OC SlamJam - Finals

by OC Slamjam

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Original Character
Length: 56007

A compilation of all entries received from the final rounds of the OC Slamjam, where authors invented OCs and were paired up into brackets to write a story about their opponent's OC and their own!

The Official Compilation of all entries from the final rounds of the OC Slamjam run by Obselescence, where authors invented OCs and were paired up into brackets to write a story about their opponent's OC and their own!

THE OFFICIAL CONTEST COMPENDIUM - Use this to find the relevant entries on everyone's OC. Control+F helps a lot in quickly finding names.

You have until 11:59 PM CST on Tuesday, September 1 to cast votes on your favorite entry from each bracket. Each chapter contains both competitors' entries, each attributed to the author who created that OC. Cast your vote in a comment on the relevant chapter by writing "[OC Name]'s Author" in bold at the top of your comment. You may cast one vote per OC pairing. Votes should ideally be cast based on characterization, overall writing quality, and how well the author utilized the character sheets contained in the official contest compendium.

To retain anonymity, authors are allowed to cast votes on their own entries. You don't need to vote on entries marked as won by default. To spread the votes around, please try not to start from the beginning.

Published 2015-07-20 21:20:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-08-28 02:52:45 UTC

Quarterfinals: Mango Leaf vs. Summer Heat - Winner: Mango Leaf (by Vote)

Author's Note

THE OFFICIAL CONTEST COMPENDIUM

Quarterfinals: Mango Leaf vs. Summer Heat - Winner: Mango Leaf (by Vote)

Mango Leaf vs. Summer Heat - by Mango Leaf's Author

"How about Candy Cane?" Mango suggested, looking down the list of guests for potential flower fillies.

"So that would make her the last with your cousins and my little sister." Gillette nodded, writing down the name. "I'll write to her parents then, to make sure they're fine coming over from Ponyville."

Mango nodded, looking at the long list of invitations, the pictures of possible venues, options for bakeries and confectionaries—from Ponyville and Canterlot mostly—lists of dress designers, lists of event organizers... so many lists.

Let's finish planning for today and go have some fun! What do you say?"

"But the wedding—!"

"Is not happening for a year," Mango insisted, getting up and walking around the table to nuzzle her. "I know you want to plan ahead, but we're in good shape!” He paused at the sullen look on Gillette’s face. “If you’re really so worried, we can keep going tonight."

Gillette raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you'll let me do any work tonight?"

Mango grinned. "I make no promises. But I'll keep you busy either way." He paused, tapping his hoof on the table. "Are you sure you want to get married?" he asked, looking up.

Gillette rolled her eyes. "Of course I do, Mango," she replied, shaking her head, almost amused. "What is it with you? You've asked me three times in as many days. You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

"No! Of course not!" Mango leaned over the table, throwing several piles of papers into disarray as he gave Gillette a peck on the lips. "I love you. I just... I want to make sure you're comfortable with the idea. That's all."

"Of course I am," Gillette said, gently, patting his hoof. "I wouldn't have said yes otherwise."

Mango nodded. "I'm just glad to hear it." He sighed.

"Mango..."

He looked up to meet her eyes, caring and slightly worried.

"What's going on? Why are you so nervous I'll back out?"

Mango took a deep breath and let it out slowly, looking out the window at the busy streets of Canterlot. He could see ponies stopping by his wagon, hoping that it would be open to aid them with the heat of summer.

"Just a sad memory, love." He smiled. "It's not important. Just go get ready love, I'll wait."

6 Years Ago

The streets of Baltimare were just beginning to bustle when he opened up shop. It was unlikely that anypony would want to buy froyo so early, but the forecast told of warm weather to come—he'd consulted personally with the pegasus in charge of the weather—and so he’d set up shop right outside Celestial Park, which had a convenient spot for vendors, as well as an attractive view of the ponds, the river and the city.

It was definitely the place where ponies would come to enjoy the day and appreciate a delicious froyo.

Place secured, he sat down on one of the benches, pulled out a map and pored over potential future stops. So involved was he, that it took him a moment to realize there was a pony standing across from him.

Mango looked up at the young mare and he felt his heart stop.

Maybe it was the rays of sunlight passing through the leaves and dew, but she glowed as he started at her. Her pink coat, russet mane and tail were just the right shades to make her smile warmer, and her icy blue eyes pierced through his own like an icicle through an unsuspecting snow drift.

The mare giggled and Mango shook his head, realizing that he’d actually leaned forward in his slack-jawed awe.

"I-I'm sorry, miss!" he exclaimed, jumping up. "Please, have a seat! Can I interest you in a Frozen Yoghurt? I have the sweetest strawberries! They’d go perfect with your smile." He paused. "Your mouth! I mean, your taste—It tastes delicious!"

"That sounds interesting. I'll have one," she replied, sitting next to Mango's seat. "My name’s Summer Heat, by the way," she added, looking over his map and noticing the various tick marks on it. "Have you been to all of these places?"

Mango nodded as he mixed the froyo, then realized she likely wasn't looking at him. "Um, yes! I like doing business all over the place so I get to travel a lot!"

He made another froyo for himself and brought the pair with him, sitting next to her and offering her one. "Here, on the house. And, I'm Mango Leaf. Pleased to meet you, Summer Heat."

"You mean on the wagon," she giggled, accepting the froyo.

Mango watched with bated breath as she lifted the little wooden spoon and sank it into the creamy froyo, lifting it up, ladden with yoghurt and strawberry. He followed its trajectory to her mouth, and he couldn't restrain a smile as it hit her tongue, her eyes widening and closing. She hummed with pleasure, letting the flavors explode in her mouth like a stream of white, fruity goodness.

"Oh, Mango, this is delicious!"

"Yes, yes you are."

"What?"

"So," Mango started after a moment of staring. "You-um, you travel much?"

"Why, yes I do!" Summer said, nodding enthusiastically. "I've been to many places you have in the list there, down south."

Mango nodded, leaning forward. "Well, I was born in Haywaii," he pointed at the islands, then traced his hoof across to southern Equestria. "And I decided to start my business and make my way north. You know, Ponyville, Canterlot, I'm hoping to go as far north as the frozen lands, where my family is originally from, then head over to Griffonia to see how they like the Froyo."

"So are you going to Fillydelphia first?"

"Yeah, then to Ponyville, stopping at any little town on the way, then Canterlot, hopefully in time for the Summer Sun Celebration... then north to Glaice. From there it's either Vanhoover if I want to stay in Equestria, or head straight to Griffonia."

"So you're not heading back south?" Summer asked as Mango stood to serve a pair of ponies that had joined them at the wagon.

"Nope!" Mango called back, quickly mixing two froyos and levitating them out to the pair. After a brief thank you, an invitation to return for more and a couple bits in change, he walked back. "I passed through Las Pegasus and Appleoosa from Haywaii. Sales went well, but I think I’ll explore a bit before I go back."

"That's nice," Summer whispered, studying the map intently. "Are you travelling on your own?"

Mango shrugged with a sheepish smile. "Well, yeah. I left everything and everypony I knew behind."

She leaned in, batting her eyelashes. "Would you like to travel together for a while?"

Mango's eyes widened. "I-Ye-but! I only, I mean, I only have the wagon and there's only one bed and I guess I could sleep on the floor but we would have to share an—" he stopped when he felt the hoof softly pushing his lips shut.

Summer Heat smiled alluringly, with eyes half closed. She leaned in until he could feel her hot breath on his ear, making it twitch as she spoke, "I don't mind sharing the bed."

"Can I have a Summer Twist, please?" the pony asked, looking at the menu to the right of the window.

"Peach, Strawberry, Mango and Kiwi, coming up!" Mango called out happily, using his magic to prepare the froyo."

"Make that two!" the pony's companion called out. "It sounds delicious!"

"No problem," Mango said, nodding with a smile. "And thank you for saying that!"

"How did you make that one up?" The first pony asked. "I've always wondered how cooks and chefs come up with recipes."

Mango glanced down to where Summer Heat was talking to a couple of stallions. "Well, I named it after my inspiration."

"Well, it's amazing!" the pony said with utmost sincerity. "You said you were going to go to Canterlot eventually right? Tell you what, I live there. When I see you there, I'll invite all of my friends to try out your froyo!"

"That sounds great," Mango replied. "Thank you!"

The pair nodded, taking their froyos with a nod and heading on their way.

Mango sighed contentedly smile firmly in place, as his eyes strayed back to Summer, who was waving goodbye to the two stallions. "We should go to the bar tonight!" She cantered up to the window and sat down. "They said that tonight's drinks are two for one, and Ponyville won't have that many places to visit once we get there."

"Sure, if you want to." Mango nodded. "Just a couple of stops more and we get to Canterlot, isn't that amazing?"

Summer giggled. "I hope we get to meet the Princess!"

"Ha! Wouldn't that be something? You think she likes froyo?"

"If she doesn't, she'll learn to love it when she tries yours," she replied, bopping him on the nose with her hoof.

Mango rubbed his nose. "If it came from anypony else, I'd call them crazy."

"But you know to trust me, right?"

"Right!"

"Good! Now, close down, I think you need a break."

"But I've only been open for a few hours and—

"Things are going slow. Come on. Close down, pull down the shutters and let me in."

"Well, when you put it that way..."

Mango nodded along to the music. Although not much of a dancer, he had a good sense for rhythm. He sipped his frozen drink, keeping a cooling spell around the levitating glass to keep the contents icy. He was leaning his back against the bar, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of Summer Heat in the mass of ponies dancing on the floor to the beat the DJ set.

The discotheque scene wasn't his scene, if he was honest with himself. Despite his urges to travel to colder climates than Haywaii and to keep away from the heat, the feel of a warm breeze, the smell of salt in the air, the good, relaxing cheer of eating in an open air area such as a luau never lost its appeal.

Music and dancing were also a big part of that, but it was a different feel, it felt less crowded, less smoky and less claustrophobic than a disco felt. The only time he would feel a breeze here was if somepony opened the door, and it was gone as soon as it appeared.

It felt constricting, funny since dancing was all about being free.

He shook his head at the stray thoughts and glanced down at the dance floor. He thought he had seen a hint of a pink coat, but it was not Summer Heat.

"Looking for your friend?" a voice behind him asked.

Blinking, Mango turned around and stared at the bar tender, an old stallion with a big moustache and crow’s feet from too much smiling. "Um, yeah, I lost track of her for just a second..."

The stallion gave him a look. It was the same look Mango's dad had given him when he’d suggested he’d revolutionize Haywaii with froyo. It was a mix of pity, concern and incoming sagely advice.

Mango didn't really want to hear it, but the old stallion was faster. Or maybe his drink had dulled his reflexes.

"Listen kid, I don't want to break it to you, but that mare's a bit more than you want to handle."

Mango snorted, sliding his hoof down to pat his saddlebag. "What, you think I'm not good enough for her?"

The stallion shook his head, and poured something on a shotglass which he slid to Mango. "On the house."

Mango stared at the clear liquid and levitated it up. The glass frosted over before he gave it a sip. "Hmm."

"Kid," the stallion started again as he dried one of the glasses he was cleaning up. "I never said she was too good for you. I said she's more than you want. In other words, you're too good for her."

Mango laughed and took another sip. "Come on, I know she'd normally be out of my league, but we're living together."

The stallion's mouth pulled back in a grimace. "It's not her beauty, kid. Been watching since you walked in. Held the door for her. Been courteous to everypony that’s sat next to you. I've seen a few mares flirt with you, won over by that smirk of yours, but you wear your heart on your hoof, son."

Mango frowned, but he wouldn't look at the stallion. He’d pulled his saddlebags up and was holding them against his chest, feeling the little container inside.

"Those mares you ignored were nice, and I happen to know that they're here to meet ponies, but also to get to know them, maybe even start a real relationship. Kid, your lady friend... she's not interested in a relationship. Or if she is, she's not interested in the type you want."

Mango scowled and downed the rest of his shot. "How would you even know that?"

"I'm a bartender," the stallion answered, as if that explained everything. "I've seen her type in here several times."

"Don't insult her."

The stallion raised his hoof. "I'm not insulting her," he said calmly. "I'm just saying I've seen her type, and yours. You both want very different things."

Mango looked down at his saddlebags. "How much do I owe you?"

The stallion sighed. "Nothing, kid. If you want to find your girl now, she went out the front door about half an hour ago."

Mango nodded, and didn't say anything, throwing a few bits into the tip jar before putting on his saddlebags, pushing away from the bar and making his way out to the cool air of Junction City.

He stumbled towards his wagon and fumbled with the keys before opening it.

There was nopony inside.

Sighing, Mango closed the door behind him and jumped onto bed.

It was her laughter outside the door that woke him up. His head hurt and his mouth was dry, but the door was opening, and he could hear her talking to somepony.

"Thanks for the fun, guys," she said, the door tilting open to allow some moonlight to paint her silhouette on the floor.

"Anytime, babe!" a voice responded.

"Let us know next time you're around, and we'll show you an even better time!" another voice added.

"Bye now!" Summer giggled, stepping in and closing the door behind her. She looked at Mango and locked the door. "Hey Mango, sorry I woke you up."

"...s’okay," Mango mumbled, groaning and rubbing his eyes. "Was looking fer you."

"Oh, I just went with Pound Rhythm and some other ponies to have some fun after his turn at DJing ended." She smirked, sliding into bed with him.

She stank of stallion and sweat and alcohol and just a bit of that smell of herself which Mango adored.

Mango didn't say anything, but she seemed to sense something.

"What's going on Mango?"

Mango shrugged, still groggy. "Nuthin', I’mma just... sleepy."

Summer frowned.

"I-I got this for you." He reached down and pulled a small box from his saddlebags. "Earlier, while you were showering before going to th' bar." His mind was clearing a bit.

"Oh, Mango!" Summer laughed, picking the box in her hooves. "You didn't need to."

Mango wasn't looking at her when she opened the box, but he could sense the change. She stopped breathing for a second, her body tensed.

"It's... it's called a 'Love Lock’", or something like that," Mango explained. "It has our initials on it, do you like it? We're supposed to lock it somewhere like a bridge or something, to make it last forever."

"Uh... y-yeah."

Mango gulped. "The other thing is... I, uh... it's an engagement band. You have me, Summer you know I'll travel the world with you and-and you don't need those other stallions. We have fun too, right?"

"Right..."

"You like it?"

Summer Heat nodded, but didn’t speak.

Mango nodded and yawned, still fuzzy. "I’mma sleep... talk to you tomorrow..." he drifted away, watching as Summer Heat lifted the band up and tried it on.

Summer Heat stared at the band around her hoof in silence. It was a light golden-pink color, slightly wavy and locked in place by a small reddish-brown gem. What had Mango called it? He’d compared her mane to a gem once...

"Axinite," she recalled. He had said that if her mane was a gemstone, it would be axinite.

She glanced from the band to Mango, passed out of bed and smelling of alcohol like never before. He’d even started drooling.

She gently slid her hoof through his mane, brushing it out of his face. She stopped when she noticed the matted fur of her coat from a love-bite from earlier that night.

She looked at the band, and the lock with the stylized Ml&SH engraved into it and sighed.

She picked it up and held it in her other hoof.

Summer Heat stayed sitting there for a long, long time.

Chirping woke Mango up the next day.

"Ugh... what did that bartender give me?" he muttered, looking around as he pushed himself up.

There was no sign of Summer.

He was sure he’d seen her the night before. He frowned as memories seeped back in. His eyes widened.

"Oh no, I gave her the band and just fell asleep!" he cried, jumping out of bed and faceplanting onto the wooden floor of his wagon as his sheets refused to let go of his hind legs. He pushed up, wiping his nose on his foreleg as he kicked the sheets loose. "She must think I'm an idiot!"

He finally extricated himself and galloped out into the bright sunlight.

He looked around the wagon, but none of the ponies sitting nearby or walking around were her.

Mango turned and walked around his wagon, trying to see if he could see her somewhere.

"Where is she?" he muttered, walking in and looking at the small clock on the wall opposite the service window. "Well, we still have a couple of hours before we need to set out." He sighed. "I'll just apologize when I see her later."

One Week Later

The golden gates to Canterlot were open wide for visitors as Mango Leaf pulled his wagon towards them, many other ponies trotting happily past.

Looking around, Mango spotted a guard, and approached him. "Excuse me, sir! Can I ask you something?"

The guard nodded. "Welcome to Canterlot, sir, how can I help you?"

"Well, I have two questions... where can I find the Chamber of Commerce?"

The guard glanced at his cart and nodded, pointing a hoof at a nearby building with several columns running along the outside and a long stairwell to a less than grandiose entrance. "You should be able to get a permit there sir. There might be a bit of a wait with the Summer Sun Celebration coming up."

Mango cringed and nodded. "Yeah, I-I forgot about that..."

The guard nodded. "And the other question, sir?"

Mango smiled sheepishly. "I was wondering if you'd seen an acquaintance of mine pass by. I realize there's too many ponies to keep track of, but she tends to stand out. Pink coat, brown-red mane... a bit disheveled, but it works for her."

The guard shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't recall seeing anypony like that."

Mango deflated. "I figured as much." He sighed, but smiled at the guard. "Well, thank you very much for your help and time, sir. Have a nice rest of the day."

"You too, sir."

Mango nodded briefly and trudged towards the chamber of commerce.

"Hey, Mango Leaf, right?"

The voice made Mango jump, and he turned to look at a pony that looked vaguely familiar. "Oh, hi! Sorry, I seem to have forgotten your name—"

"No worries, I don't think I told you it, but I bought some froyo from you back in Fillydelphia."

"Oh, sure, yeah! How are you?"

"Great! You going to sell froyo at the Summer Sun Celebration? That's awesome! I look forward to some Summer Twists!"

Mango closed his eyes and cringed. "Y-yeah, um, I'm afraid I don't... have any Summer Twists this time around."

"Aww, that's too bad," the pony sighed. "Well, I'll stop by when I see you set up. Later!"

"Later."

Mango grimaced and looked up at the Chamber of Commerce, standing in place for several minutes before shaking his head and turning, pulling his wagon behind him as he made for the gates of Canterlot.

Maybe he'd try some other time.

Present Day

"Equestria to Mango!"

Mango blinked awake, shaking himself away from the window he had been gazing at. "I'm sorry, Gillette, what was that?"

"You okay?" Gillette asked gently, putting a hoof on his shoulder.

Mango smiled and pulled her for a hug. "I'm just glad that I found you."

Gillette giggled and hugged him back, enjoying the embrace for a few seconds before pulling back. "Come on, Mango, we should really catch up with Rachis before he decides I’ve abandoned the salon."

Mango nodded, following her out of the apartment and down into the streets of Canterlot. They walked over the bridge, chatting about their mutual friend.

The pair stopped for a moment, when Gillette pointed at several love locks tied under the bridge. Mango sighed, closed his eyes and nuzzled Gillette, pulling her towards downtown. He never saw, buried among several others, a familiar lock with a rusted engraved front. It held in it's shackle a band, glittering pink in the sunlight and a single red-brown gemstone on it.

End

Playing it Straight - by Summer Heat's Author

There it was, right on cue: the priceless face that only came at the very moment when pleasure was spiked with a surge of pain. Mango had seen it countless times on countless ponies, but Summer Heat's expression was particularly exquisite. It started gently: only a slight grimace at first, then a clenched jaw, then eyes squeezed shut, and then Summer Heat threw her head back with a tight-jawed “Nnnnngh!”

Her mane waterfalled across her face and over her shoulders as she braced herself against the bench with one forehoof and pressed the other against her temple. A full-body quiver rippled through Summer Heat's neck, shoulders, flanks, and haunches, locking her in place with muzzle upturned and face scrunched as if in exertion, until her lips parted in a shuddering gasp.

Mango Leaf whistled. "Hoo! That was a good one!"

Summer Heat finally loosened her muscles and huffed out a sigh of relief. Then she shot Mango Leaf a sidelong glance and rolled her eyes. "Very funny. Glad I put on a nice show.”

"Ha! You just ate too fast, tha’s not my fault!” Mango Leaf said through a gigantic grin. “For real though, one of the best things about selling to tourists? Watching 'em get brain freeze like that."

“Yeah, I hear I make good faces,” Summer intoned. "You calling me a 'tourist' now?" She gestured to where a herd of ponies were rambling down the street, all of them brandishing cameras and wearing garish floral-print shirts.

“Well...”

Mango Leaf turned his and busied himself with packing up his frozen yogurt cart. Securing a spot here on the main beach walk had been a stroke of luck, but now the hottest part of the day was over, and the tourists were starting to move on to dinners and shows instead of shopping and sunbathing--might as well pack it in.

"... Kinda hard to call you kama'aina after only a couple years. How come you came back, anyways? You were talkin’ like it was aloha for good."

Summer Heat replied by pouting her lips and batting her lashes. "Maybe I've been craving your delicious yogurt. Just about broke my mouth!"

Mango pressed one hoof to his face as he bent forward in full-voiced laughter. When he recovered, his easy smile had returned. "Well actually, speaking of tourists, my cousin's comin’ from the mainland to visit tomorrow. Maybe you wanna meet him?"

Summer shrugged. "Sounds fun. Actual cousin or the other kind?"

"Other kind. Actually, I just saw him a coupla months ago..."

“Cousins don't shake hooves. They hug. Now come here, you big lump.”

It took a moment before Haystacks hugged back, but when he did, Mango felt himself being wrapped in the restrained power of a born and bred workhorse.

“...You missed me, then?” Mango breathed into Haystacks’ ear.

There was a delay.

Haystacks replied just before Mango would have started tickling him to get him to talk. “Of course I did.”

The power-built country boy’s voice was low and smooth; doubly so when lowered to an intimate murmur. It was the kind of voice that could make anything sound good, even the succinct phrases that Haystacks usually spoke in. A little flicker of coltish excitement passed through Mango Leaf’s gut as he tightened his hold and squeezed their bodies together just a bit harder.

The night was warm, and Haystacks’ coarse coat was even warmer, so the body heat between them was barely within the bounds of ‘pleasant.’ The same could be said of Haystacks’ scent--with his face buried in Haystacks’ shoulder, Mango could smell faint remnants of a long hot day’s worth of dry crops and damp exertion.

“Me too, bud,” said Mango Leaf. He let go of the hug after lingering for just long enough to feel Haystacks fill his broad chest with another deep breath.

Summer Heat had been listening with a hoof-tip resting against her lips. A contemplative frown spread from behind her hoof as Mango finished talking.

“Anyways, uh... so that’s my cousin Haystacks. He’s just one of those really nice guys, you know? It had been a really long time before that, so it was nice.”

Summer nodded slowly. "Sounds like he’s a really, really good guy.”

Mango nodded back, more enthusiastically. “Oh yeah, he really is. I’m lucky to have him as a--”

“You are gonna make your move when he comes, right?" Summer Heat detached her hoof from her mouth and turned it face-up toward Mango. Her voice and her eyes were utterly serious.

"Uh.” Mango Leaf felt his eyes widen. “Now I’m thinkin’ maybe I said too much..."

The smirk on Summer’s face turned into a full-on wolf grin. "Uh huh. Should’ve seen your face while you were describing him. I know that look. ”

"I mean... but...” Mango Leaf waved both hooves in circular gestures, illustrating nothing in particular. “He's pretty much family. I can’t just spring that kinda thing outta nowhere, you know?"

Summer rolled her eyes and made a dismissive “pfft” sound. "So don't! Meet him at the station, maybe bring him one of those what-do-you-call-em flower things, give a nice big hug when you put it on him. If he’s not into stallions, then you have a problem, but I haven’t heard you say that yet.”

“So, what, I should start flirting as soon as his hooves touch the ground? I told you, we’re like cousins, what if--”

Summer hardly slowed down. “Basics of the basics: say stuff that shows how you're looking at him as a STALLION, not a cousin." She jabbed her hoof toward Mango’s chest. “What, worried about ‘making things awkward?’ You’ll regret it if you don’t try, and you know it.”

Mango slumped into the bench’s backrest, contemplating the truth of those words. The sun was sinking behind the high-rise hotels and boutiques, and it was getting dark--time to either go drinking or go home.

"So,” he said, without turning to face Summer Heat, “I guess you fancy yourself a professional at this kinda stuff, huh?"

Summer pushed off the back of the bench, propelling herself so that she landed on the paved walkway all fours. "Please. Professionals get paid. I prefer ‘artist.’ Just make sure you tell me how it went when I come back for more yogurt tomorrow."

Haystacks took a deep, deep breath as he stepped off the last rung of the flimsy portable staircase and onto solid ground. Before yesterday, he had hardly even known what an airship looked like, let alone set hoof inside one, let alone spent all day and all night trapped inside a cramped metal box hanging off the bottom of a balloon that was suspended thousands of feet in the air and vibrating from the force of three massive engines, with nothing but vast ocean beneath for as far as the eye could see.

Haystacks had spent more sleepless nights than he could keep track of on convincing himself to go through with this trip, then several more making arrangements for the time he would be gone. His mother had been soul-rendingly supportive. She had scolded him for worrying about her. Told him to bring back souvenirs. And then beckoned him closer to the bed so that she could kiss him on the cheek and wish him a safe trip.

That was how Haystacks, the country boy who averaged two days away from the farm in a typical year, had up and flown across an ocean and most of a continent to stay on a tiny volcanic island for an entire weekend. That was insane. Impossible. But it had happened. All because of--because what, again? Was there really a reason sufficient to justify it all?

It was too late, of course. He had climbed off the airship, walked into the airship depot, crossed through the airship depot’s departure gate area, and exited onto the streets of a strange city named Hoofolulu. There was an emboldening rush to it, as well as a weakening chill: he had made a great accomplishment, or a great mistake.

“Hey! Who’s that big lump over there who looks exactly just like somepony I know?”

The sound of Mango Leaf’s voice was unmistakable, and it was the first pleasurable thing that Haystacks had experienced since being locked inside the cramped hellhole that was the airship’s cabin. Haystacks turned to face where the voice had come from and--yes, there it was--just like before, the mere sight of Mango Leaf’s warm colors and warmer smile were enough to bring on those feelings of friendship and familiarity; enough to soothe Haystacks’ frayed nerves and make it as if their last meeting had been only yesterday. Today, Mango Leaf was wearing a string of yellow-fringed white flowers as a long necklace, easily reaching mid-chest. Strange, thought Haystacks, but fitting for a tropical island.

“Oh. Nah, nevermind, sorry,” said Mango Leaf as he coasted to a stop in front of Haystacks.

Haystacks opened his mouth and furrowed his brow in confusion. Confusion, and--and maybe he ought to be offended?

Before Haystacks could formulate an objection, Mango spoke again with a dismissive wave. “The stallion I’m lookin’ for wouldn’t stop working if you offered him a million bits and a date with the sexiest fro-yo vendor in the world.”

Mango Leaf leveled a flat stare at Haystacks for just long enough for the words to sink in, and then he lunged with both hooves outstretched. Before the inevitable hug, something light and slightly itchy was dropped over Haystacks’ head and onto his shoulders. Oh--Mango had given him the flowers. And then they were hugging, of course they were, because cousins didn’t shake hooves.

“I’ve been counting the days, Hay.” Mango Leaf peeled away from the hug and gave Haystacks an odd look. Longing, was that the word? “I just... I’ve been thinkin’ about you a lot since last time.”

Haystacks smiled, though he didn’t know quite what to say. Knowing that he had such a good friend in Mango, well, that felt good, to be sure, and in more ways than one. But Haystacks wasn’t good at accepting flattery, so he just smiled. Then he raised a hoof to his collar and looked down at the odd, organic adornment hanging from his shoulders. “Why did you give me this?”

“It’s called a lei,” said Mango. “And don’t bother making a pun--we’ve all heard the get lei’d joke a million times.”

Haystacks rolled his eyes. “I came to see a new place and spend time with my cousin, not get lei’d.”

Mango appeared to falter just a bit, before laying the flattery on even thicker. “Big strong country boy with looks like yours, I bet you have mares and stallions lining up down the block,” said Mango with a mockingly coy lilt. “Wouldn’t blame them.”

“I haven’t met anypony. You know that.” Then he smiled again. Whether Mango knew it or not, the teasing and compliments were a welcome distraction from the stresses of travel. Just one more of the many reasons he was so glad to be near Mango.

“But if I end up with a stallion, I hope he's just like you," said Haystacks. "Cousin," he added.

The answer to that was a brief silence. In fact, they walked side by side without speaking for more than a few seconds. Haystacks felt a sudden twinge of guilt, followed by a deep plunge of worry; had he made Mango Leaf uncomfortable? Haystacks stopped and turned toward his old friend, opening his mouth and trying to find the right apology, but Mango spoke up first.

“Yeah, well, I hope so too, cousin.” Mango Leaf was looking straight ahead and still walking, but at least he was showing teeth with his smile. “C’mon--the place I was taking you for dinner closes early. We should hurry.”

"So...?"

Sure enough, Summer Heat was back for more yogurt. She was early this time; Mango Leaf had barely finished setting up. The mare had a bright, eager expression when she trotted up to the stand, which fell gradually as she got a better look at Mango’s own face.

"He said he’d love to be with a stallion just like me someday."

Summer Heat nodded slowly. Once... twice.

“...Ouch.”

Mango Leaf reared up and leaned on the stand’s counter with both forelegs. “Uh huh. So what kinda fro-yo for you?”

Her eyes flicked across the long list of flavors, lighting on names at random instead of scanning in any kind of pattern. “How long did you say he's here for?" she said, almost absentmindedly.

"Only until monday," said Mango Leaf. “I’m gonna take the weekend off for him. Still wanna meet him?”

Summer Heat didn’t break eye contact with the yogurt menu. "Monday? That’s plenty of time. What’s he up to tomorrow?"

“Hey, I told you, he said...”

Summer raised a hoof, silencing him. “You boys give up so easily. What is he up to tomorrow?”

Mango raised both brows at Summer’s no-nonsense attitude. “Uh.”

Summer continued to scrutinize the menu board for its secrets. “Well?”

“He’s doing some... some tour thing with a group. Today they’re sightseeing, and I think tomorrow is a day at the beach.”

Summer bobbed her head in a single firm nod. "Perfect. Perfect. All right, I’ve got your battle plan. But first?"

She finally looked up from the menu board with a hardened gaze, and spoke with flat conviction.

“Maple-bourbon. Two scoops. Chop-chop.”

White sand, clear skies, vast ocean, and blazing sunlight: Summer in Haywaii. The kind of scenery that pamphlets, artists, and novelists would classify as “beautiful” with almost obligatory ease.

Summer Heat found her rented beach chair, put her new pair of designer sunglasses on, and reached for the bottle of juice that she had left on the little side table. Good--it was still cool to the touch.

There they were, the tour group, all wearing matching green lanyards and setting up the volleyball net, but where... ah, there he was. Mango Leaf’s orange mane and shockingly yellow coat, incoming at top speed from eleven o'clock, were impossible to miss. Which meant that the monotone khaki-tan fellow that he was making a beeline for could only be...

Summer nodded approvingly as the blaze-yellow unicorn intercepted his “target” with a surprise hip-check, which was answered by a stumble, a confused look, and then a playful elbow jab. The two started talking--their words were drowned out by the insistent rush of the ocean, but even from a distance it was clear that they were smiling. Soon, they were chased off the court so that the games could begin.

Volleyball, as it turned out, was a sexy game.

A jet-black stallion reared forcefully, then hopped from his rear hooves for extra height on an overhead spike. His wild seafoam mane was thrown wildly by the breeze and his sinewy haunches strained for every ounce of jump power. He loaded an attack by pulling one forehoof to his shoulder, then whipped an arcing strike up and over his head in one coordinated snap of motion, sending the ball into a lethal line drive.

But the other team--a pair of pegasus mares--would not be so easily defeated. One of them dove for a desperate save, hurling her toned body across the sand and extending her long, lithe limbs as far as she could. The black stallion's spike shot hit her outstretched hoof instead of the sand, and the ball bounced high into the air as she slid a few inches and then picked herself up.

Not all of the competitors were quite so impressive, of course, but all the same, Summer Heat was glad she had decided to watch.

It took several matches before Mango Leaf and the pony who could only be Haystacks got their turn on the court. It was plain to see that Haystacks was reluctant--Mango all but dragged him into position--but it was equally obvious that where Mango went, Haystacks would follow.

Mango took his place on the back line and started the game with a clean overhoof serve. Not that Summer didn't already know about Mango Leaf's body, but his coordinated flowing form showed that there was a fine physique beneath that blinding coat.

The opponents returned with a long lob that landed in the sand directly behind Haystacks.

To Haystacks’ credit, his skills improved remarkably quickly as the match progressed. Soon, instead of watching balls fall, he was hustling to lead their paths and positioning himself to return or set-up. He and Mango were still losing, of course, which made it all the more fortunate that the turning point happened when it did.

Mango and Haystacks both dove to save the same spike, resulting in a painful-looking full-body collision. Haystacks picked himself up without too much trouble, then pulled Mango to his hooves, only to be thrown forcibly back to the ground as Mango locked him into a wrestler's grip and used the element of surprise to yank the larger stallion off his hooves.

"Nice," Summer Heat muttered.

Haystacks reversed Mango and took the top position with a sudden surge of strength, forcing Mango onto the sand with his belly facing the sun. As the larger stallion pressed down onto his kicking and arching "cousin," Summer placed the bottle of juice to her lips and took a long, slow drink. Immoral though the thought was, she found herself wishing for a camera. Or at least some popcorn.

The blue-orange-grey of the evening sky was suddenly obscured by the head and torso of a smirking earth pony mare leaning into Mango Leaf’s field of vision.

"Had fun today?" Summer Heat said.

“Somethin’ like that,” Mango Leaf said, rolling off of the bench where he had been reclining. “The group went off to see a show, but he’s with me tomorrow, then I’m puttin’ him up for his last night before going back. It’s perfect!”

“Well, well. So much confidence. What changed?"

Mango snorted. “Oh come on, do you think I’m blind? You were watching the whole time. You sure like watching big sweaty stallions jumpin’ around and divin’ for balls, huh?"

Summer turned up her nose in mock offense. "I was only there in a professional capacity, rest assured."

"You said you were an artist, not a professional,” Mango returned. “Or, what, are you saying wanna be paid now?"

Summer tapped her lips with a hoof. Her eyes fell onto the yogurt menu.

“One extra large, half honeydew-mint and half lilikoi, with condensed milk on top, and we'll call it square."

"Hoo, that’s one hard bargain you’re drivin’ for your services. Two flavors and the condensed milk?"

Summer clicked her tongue. “You want the best, you pay for the best.”

Mango Leaf smiled at her, then turned his back to get to work on her ‘payment.’ It wasn’t until he was leaned all the way into his cart that a question from before started to tug at his mind.

"So, you know... I was just thinking.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Ha.”

The lilikoi was easy enough, but the honeydew wasn’t a popular flavor. Mango Leaf had to stretch in order to reach it.

“Like I was saying. You came back, you tracked me down, and then you... well, you know, you did all this for me, even though we hadn’t talked in years. It kinda doesn’t make sense?"

Summer Heat didn’t reply immediately. When she did, it was without her characteristic sass.

“Something wrong with that? Seems like it worked out for you.”

“Oh yeah! You’re like a cousin I didn't know I needed.” With both flavors of yogurt scooped and ready, he finally leaned back from the cart’s refrigerated interior and turned toward his basket of toppings. “It’s just, I didn't think you were the type to, you know... care.”

There wasn’t an answer from Summer through the entire time Mango Leaf spent drizzling condensed milk for her.

“I mean, sorry if that sounds harsh, but--”

“Sorry, are you talking to me?” said the green unicorn standing at the counter.

Some distance away, a cutie mark depicting a sprinkle of flower petals folded itself into a crowd, and then was gone.

Bottle of top-grade 'okolehao set on the table like a centerpiece. Check.

A record of the closest approximation of mood music that Haywaii’s local musicians had to offer. Check.

Scented candles perched at random around the perimeter of the living room. Perhaps a bit frivolous, but check.

Lights turned down low. Laundry shoved in the closet. Bedroom cleaned. Head full of alternately heart-melting and blush-inducing images of the night to come. Check, check, check, check. Buying time by “heading to the store for some things” and instructing Haystacks to bring home the take-out once it was ready had definitely been a good move. Rude for a host, perhaps, but Haystacks wasn’t the type to get uppity about such things, and with any luck, it would all be worth it.

Now, though, Mango Leaf was afraid that he might have bought himself too much time; the anticipation was threatening to shake his resolve.

Eventually, Mango Leaf managed to stop pacing around his house looking for something else to prepare or clean up, and stepped out through his front door to stare up at the stars--something that always calmed him. Really, it should have been obvious: Summer Heat hadn't done a thing to help seduce Haystacks. What she had done was convince Mango Leaf to find out if Haystacks felt the same way, after all this time.

Ten minutes passed. Fifteen.

It was then that Mango Leaf first smelled the smoke.

“Hey there.”

“...Hey.”

The air-conditioned interior of the depot was mercifully empty, with only a few travelers and inter-island commuters standing at counters and waiting in lines. Even through the concrete walls, the thrumming of gigantic propellers could be heard whenever a ship came in for a landing. Haystacks was going to be boarding one of those ships.

"Here to see him off?"

See him off. The words fell heavy on Mango Leaf’s ears, full of oppressive finality. That was it, then. Haystacks was about to board an airship all the way back to his home in the heart of mainland Equestria, and there was no telling how long it would be until the next chance to see him again.

“Already did.”

Summer Heat didn’t speak up for a few seconds. Waiting, maybe. Mango didn’t oblige her. If she had taken the trip out to the depot just to hear the report, well, he didn’t feel like sharing right now.

"That bad, huh?"

“Mm.”

Mango Leaf failed to muster the effort of explaining how he and Haystacks had been forced to crash at an auntie’s house after Mango had accidentally set his couch on fire with a scented candle.

"The whole thing didn’t really happen. Sorry. I know you wanted to help.”

The worst was realizing, in hindsight, that he could have gotten a hotel room, could have brought Haystacks out to sleep beneath the stars, could have, would have, should have... but it didn’t matter now. At the time, Mango Leaf had been too exhausted, too devastated, and too guilty to think of doing anything except seek out a solution the best way he knew how: by calling upon his ‘family’ of friends.

And that was it. Mango Leaf had missed his chance, likely the only one he would get for years. Years that he would spend wondering if Haystacks felt the same way.

“Don’t be sorry. Hey.”

Mango was dimly aware that a small weight had been laid across his shoulders. He didn’t respond.

“You love him. If he loves you, that won’t change no matter how long you’re apart, no matter how much you both change. No matter what.”

“No matter what...”

The change was instantaneous. Mango Leaf yanked Summer Heat into a rough hug, planted a peck on her cheek, then turned and bolted off in the direction of Haystacks’ departure gate.

He left so quickly that he didn't see the expression on Summer Heat's face as he ran off, or how she watched for a little longer than necessary before turning back to the ticket counter she had been standing at before talking to Mango.

"Aloha, Mango Leaf," she said softly.

“...But don't worry. If we think about it together, and walk the same road, then I'm sure we'll make some sense out of it. But you promise you'll chase your dreams, right?”

Haystacks didn’t answer right away, so Mango gave him a nudge. “No matter what happens.”

When Mango Leaf tried to lock eyes with Haystacks, he saw that Haystacks had his eyes squeezed shut, and was nodding as hard as he could instead of talking.

“Whatever they might be,” Haystacks finally said, once his eyes were dry. There was only a slight waver to his voice. “I promise.”

The doors opened. The stairs were wheeled into place. The airship loomed in all its terrifying immensity.

Welp.

It had been a good trip, all told. The simple fact of how decadent it felt to take a real vacation had been one of the greatest new experiences of all.

And he had gotten to spend time with Mango, even if that time had ended with an unpleasant surprise and an unintended adventure. Not a failure, no, but... unsatisfying, really. More than a little unsatisfying, since he never would have come here if not for...

“Haystacks! Haystacks!”

The voice alone caused Haystacks’ breath to catch in his chest. Then the voice’s owner knocked the rest of the breath out of him by ramming into him with a forceful, almost desperate hug.

“What I said last time,” Mango said breathlessly, “The campfire. That’s why you came all the way out here. Because I made you promise...”

Haystacks swallowed hard, and nodded harder. It came all at once, the feelings, the memories, the warmth, all of it, and suddenly, even in front of all these people, it was hard--impossible--to contain. “D-dreams,” he choked. “No matter what happens.”

“No matter what happens.” Tears brimmed in Mango Leaf’s eyes as he curled one hoof around the back of Haystacks’ head. “Whatever they might be.”

Quarterfinals: Ace Artisan vs. Evergreen - Winner: Evergreen (by Vote)

Author's Note

THE OFFICIAL CONTEST COMPENDIUM

Quarterfinals: Ace Artisan vs. Evergreen - Winner: Evergreen (by Vote)

Limits - by Ace Artisan's Author

'Aaaaand, of course, that one's choppin' wood with the wrong side of the hatchet.'

Evergreen sighed as she surveyed the campsite. "Hoof-dah." She straightened her campaign hat, which nicely complimented her red jacket and the green hues of her coat and mane. When she spotted a pudgy unicorn chewing on a pinecone, she thought to herself, 'I swear, these Canterlot groups get greener every time.'

Two dozen ponies milled about the large, rustic campsite. Nearly all of them were unicorns that looked like they'd never been outside the city. Several wore designer clothing that had unraveled on the hike in, and most of the stallions tried – and failed – to show their outdoorsponyship by starting a fire, though none had gotten past rubbing two wets stick together.

Evergreen shook her head. 'At least they'll learn something.' She didn't mind these weekend trips that Central organized. After all, they brought a lot of money into the national park system and exposed more ponies to the natural beauty of the forest. She just hated that sinking feeling in her gut, the one that told her she'd be the center of attention whenever there was an issue. At least she had three other Royal Equestrian Rangers to assist her this time around, and with a glance upward, she remembered why she loved this job.

Pine trees towered above, filling the air with sweet scents and occasionally dropping needles onto the campers below. They shielded the campsite from the oppressive sun, and a cool breeze wound around them, comforting the aching campers. Squirrels chittered on the branches, and birds called to each other, looking for friends. Even with all the activity in the campsite (most of it loud complaining), there was a serenity about the forest that made the headaches worthwhile.

'All right, enough day-dreaming. These camper's aren't going to organize themselves.' Evergreen looked over at Corporal Periwinkle. She wished he could give the big speeches, but as Sergeant, it was her duty to lead, and she would do it with a smile on her face. Taking a deep breath, she shouted to the campers, "All right, everypony! Camp's about set up, and it's time for our first hike! It's gonna be a barrel o' fun, so who's with me?"

Most of the Canterlot denizens turned their attention her way, but she found herself looking at an earth pony who was deep into a conversation with a unicorn mare.

"Really?" Ace's ears drooped. "But… we said we were going to spend the whole weekend together."

Nocturne gracefully cocked her head to the side, her bangs gently brushing against her face in that way Ace always found stunning. She spoke with a rich, velvety voice that was perfect for a second soprano like her. "I know, Hunk, but I'm exhausted, and I'd rather just rest and catch up with Minuette."

"You're sure? The guide says it's a pretty easy hike, and…" Ace kicked at the dirt. "I don't want you to feel like I'm abandoning you or… avoiding you or anything." He looked up and made eye contact, and his voice became very heavy. "Not ever again."

Nocturne's eyes softened. "Ace, you're not abandoning me." She narrowed her eyes and gave him a smirk, and her voice dropped a few tones. "It's not like you're sneaking off to go check on the hospital, right? Because I'm pretty sure the construction site's closed for the weekend."

Ace snapped to attention. "Oh, no! Of course not, Babe! No work this weekend." He reached around her neck and pulled her in for a hug. He held her there for a moment, then spoke softly into her ear. "I'm trying to get better. I promise."

She gently nuzzled his cheek with her own. Her voice was soft and smooth. "I know, Hunk. And you're doing great."

"Thanks, Babe." Ace breathed in her scent. Even after the hike, she smelled fresh and delicate and lovely, and his head swam as warmth spread through his body. "Love you so much."

"Love you, too." She rested her chin on his shoulder for a moment before pulling away. "Now go enjoy the hike, and don't worry about me. I'll have my hooves full helping with dinner."

With a cocky smirk and a raised eyebrow, Ace chuckled. "Heh-heh. Since when can you cook?"

Nocturne pouted her lips, but Ace saw a smile creeping up the sides as she half-whined, "Well, I figure there's already going to be a fire, so I can't make things much worse, right?"

Ace smiled. "Ha! All right, all right. Have fun, but let's go stargazing tonight, just the two of us. Deal?"

"Deal." She looked behind him and pointed with a hoof. "Your group's about to leave."

Ace turned his head to see a group of ten ponies gathering by a worn trail. He looked back to Nocturne. "Okay. Have a good time!"

"You, too." As Ace turned and trotted away, she shouted, "And maybe bring back something nice!"

"Sure!" Ace trotted up to the group, though his expression soured when he noticed he was the only earth pony.

Evergreen looked up at him. "Well, wouldja look here. Got ourselves a straggler, eh? So much for that earth pony endurance. Har-har!" When she saw Ace roll his eyes, she tipped her hat to him. "Oh, I'm just teasin'. I'm sure you'll be the leadin' the pack. Now, everypony, my name's Sergeant Evergreen, and I'm pleased as punch to answer any questions ya' got." She gestured to a pale blue unicorn wearing the same clothing, albeit with fewer accoutrements. "This here's Corporal Periwinkle, and he'll be takin' up the rear."

A silver unicorn with a stylishly coiffed mane and thick Canterlot accent raised a hoof. "I say, are you quite sure this excursion is completely safe?"

Evergreen chuckled. "Har-har! Well, now, I could tell ya' some horror stories, but I guarantee you'll be safe with me." She leaned in and, with a wink, pseudo-whispered, "It's Perry ya' gotta watch out for. He tends to lose a few each trip."

Several of the gathered campers gave small but sincere laughs.

Evergreen straightened up. "Okay, then! Sounds like everypony's ready, so let's march!"

Ace slowed down. The rest of the group was falling behind again, so he stopped by a large, fallen tree to appreciate the scenery. A lush valley lie at the bottom of a crevasse, with deeply green grasses and a shallow river, and a large cliff face dominated the skyline, jutting out into the blue. It was steep but not utterly sheer – a pony could traverse it if he was careful enough – and there were plenty of small rocks and hoof-holds that looked strong enough to support a full-grown pony. In the middle of the cliff face, catching the afternoon sunlight, was a patch of green bushes with full, purple bulbs. Ace fixated on them: the color, so similar to Nocturne's, struck him, accentuated by the orange cliff walls in the afternoon sun. They swayed gently in the breeze, hypnotizing in their movements.

Ace stared at the bulbs even as the rest of the hiking party, most of them out of breath, trudged behind him.

Evergreen stopped nearby. "Scopin' the Songblooms, eh?"

Ace looked over his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow. "The what?"

"Those purple flowers o'er yonder." Evergreen pointed to them. "Quite the sight if you can manage to grow 'em."

Ace turned back to them. "They're nice."

"Oh ya! Pretty special too. See, they're called Songblooms because, supposedly, they only bloom when they hear beautiful music." She giggled. "Funny little folk tale, eh?"

Ace's eyes widened, and his brain tingled. "Is it true?"

"Well, it's hard to say. We used to sell the seeds at the interpretive center, but most ponies don't buy 'em. Hard to grow a cliff-side flower on a windowsill. Har-har!"

Ace stared at them for a long moment.

'Bring back something nice.'

He cleared his throat. "Uh… Can we pick them?"

"Well, I'm afraid you're a little limited in that department," Evergreen said, flaring out her wings. She didn't notice Ace's sudden scowl. "They're pretty inaccessible to earth ponies. Probably just better to leave 'em be." She folded her wings back down. "Now, we might wanna mosey, uh, Ace, was it?"

Ace was quiet for a moment. "Yes, it is."

"Well, Ace, the group's gettin' ahead, and I'd hate to leave somepony behind. Let's get a move on!" With a flap of her wings, Evergreen launched herself toward the front of the group.

Ace followed at a slow pace for several minutes, slow enough that Corporal Periwinkle had to encourage him to hurry. The two of them lingered at the back, hardly talking until Ace leaned in and said, "Pardon me, Corporal, but I forgot to mention: Evergreen said she had something important to tell you."

With a sharp whisper, Evergreen sniped, "Again, Perry!?" Her eyes were narrow, and she loomed over a cowering Periwinkle.

Periwinkle's pupils constricted, and he glanced over at the huddled mass of unicorns, all with wide eyes pointed directly at him. Periwinkle gulped and turned back to Evergreen. "I-I'm sorry, Sergeant! He said you had asked for me, which seemed plausible, a-and–"

Evergreen sighed and regained her composure. "Yer lucky I can't demote you any further, Corporal. Central's gonna hear about this."

Straightening up, Evergreen flipped her expression back to a cheery smile and turned to the group of hikers, which was missing its earth pony. "Wouldn't ya' know it? We got ourselves a wandering vine shaped like a stallion! Sorry everypony, but it looks like we gotta cut the hike a little short."

The sweaty hikers let out sighs of relief as goofy grins spread across their faces.

Evergreen pointed a hoof to Periwinkle, which made him flinch. "The Corporal here'll take ya' back to base camp. Everypony find a buddy and stick together, ya' hear?"

Periwinkle organized the remaining ponies into four pairs, and Evergreen, with a terrifyingly friendly smile at Periwinkle, spread her wings and took off up through the canopy.

Evergreen dashed through the sky, doubling back over the trail and scanning for hints of grey or dark blue. 'Ya' haven't lost one yet, Green. You'll find him.'

She recounted the Royal Equestrian Rangers' procedures for lost campers – she knew them all by heart – and mentally prepared for several different scenarios. 'If he's a poacher, fly to base for backup. If he's hurt, I've got my flare. If he's hysterical, stick 'im with a sedative and wait until help arrives. If there's timberwolf trouble…'

She smirked. 'Well, it won't be trouble for long.'

A spot of grey and dark blue caught her eye. "There!" The hint of a smile started to creep across her face until the rest of the picture filled in. "Oh, for Pete's…"

Ace was shakily climbing across the cliff face, high above the river and a bed of jagged rocks. He'd made decent progress, sticking to a narrow path that jutted from the cliff.

Evergreen stared down at the chasm below Ace, and her pulse quickened. A fall might be survivable, but she couldn't be sure. 'Hold on, Ace. Yer not gonna be the first.'

Evergreen tilted her wings and spiraled downward on a warm wind. She chewed her lip, and her mind buzzed with possible scenarios. 'Talk him down. Catch him. Use your authority. Get another Ranger. Grab him and guide him back.' She patted the small saddlebag on her back. 'Shoot a flare. Stick him with a tranquilizer. Bribe him.'

Appealing to authority seemed like a good place to start. She hovered several yards behind Ace and said loudly, "Ace, this is Sergeant Evergreen of the Royal Equestrian Rangers! I hereby order you to turn back around this instant!"

Ace looked over his shoulder at Evergreen, then back to the cliff. His hooves slowly found purchase, and Ace tested every hoof-hold before he put any weight on it. He didn't slow down.

'Direct approach doesn't seem to be working,' she thought. 'Talk him down. Catch him. Get another Ranger. Grab him and guide him back. Shoot a flare. Stick him with a tranquilizer. Bribe him.'

Evergreen dropped the harshness in her voice and tried to sound friendlier. "Ace, what're ya' doin'? You could get hurt up here, and I know a pretty little mare that would be awful upset if her coltfriend came back in pieces."

Ace sighed and turned his head. His voice was calm, like he didn't know he was rock-climbing with no equipment. "I'll be fine. I just need to do one thing, and I promise I'll head back." He continued shimmying across the rock.

At each little flinch, Evergreen's heart skipped a beat, but she remained calm. "Well, Ace, you leave me no choice, then. I'm gonna shoot a flare, and before you know it, a buncha Rangers will be on you like moss on a rock, and then you'll be in real trouble."

Ace paused.

Evergreen relaxed. "There we go. Let's–"

"You do that." Ace moved faster than before, no longer checking his grip so carefully.

Evergreen's eyes widened, and she cursed under her breath. With a quick hoof, she retrieved a flare from her pack. 'Don't scare him.' "Ace, I'm firing in three, two, one..."

FWOOSH!

A pink flare streaked into the sky, leaving a smoking contrail behind it.

As soon as she turned around, she found that Ace had redoubled his efforts.

'Catch him. Grab him and guide him back. Stick him with a tranquilizer. Bribe him. '

Evergreen felt a chill run up her spine.

'Grab him and guide him back.'

She moved closer to Ace and reached out a hoof. "Now, Ace, I'm going to–"

Ace kicked a hoof out, batting her away. "Stay back! I don't– GAH!" The rock beneath Ace's left hind hoof crumbled, and he scrambled to another part of the rock.

Reflexively, Evergreen swooped down to catch him, or at least slow him down. When Ace held fast, she flew up behind him again.

'Catch him. Stick him with a tranquilizer. Bribe him.'

Her options kept playing through her mind, and so did all the ways they could go wrong. 'Tranq him, and he might fall, and I don't have the strength to carry such a big guy. Talk to him, and he'll just ignore me again. That leaves…'

She looked around at the cliff-side and spotted the Songbloom bush. Her hoof met her face with a loud slap. "Ace, ya' hoser! Yer doin' this for a flower?"

Ace sighed. "Yes, and I'm almost there, so…" He looked down. "I can do this." His voice was shaky. "I-I can do this."

'Bribe him.'

"Ace, I'll get ya' yer flowers, as many as you want, okay? Just head back to the trail. Ya' gotta know yer limits."

Ace shuddered and snapped at Evergreen, "My only limit is a high-and-mighty pegasus that doesn't know when to buzz off. I'll be fine!"

Evergreen's wings ached for a rest, and her cheeks flushed with anger, but she quickly got her emotions under control. She looked again at the Songbloom bush. 'If those flowers are the problem…'

Evergreen dashed over to the bush. They flowers were even more beautiful up close. Each bulb, plump and soft, looked like it had been hoof-painted a mix of deep purple hues, streaked with a single white line on each of the petals. They looked like plump fruit, full to bursting with life and so perfect that you wouldn't dare eat them.

She shook her head. 'Focus!' With quick hooves, she yanked a hoofful of flowers from their roots. It almost hurt to destroy something so delicate. There were nearly a hundred, yes, but if she could get them all, then–

"I-I'll jump!"

Evergreen's whole body tensed, and she dropped a few feet before her wings had stabilized her position. She cranked her head to the side to see Ace leaning away from the edge. His eyes were narrowed, but his chest heaved with heavy breaths. "D-Don't think I won't!"

Evergreen's legs went slack, and her jaw hung wide open.

'Uh…'

She drifted backwards from the cliff, letting the leaves and blossoms fall from her hooves and blow away. She kept her eyes trained on Ace and tried to think.

'Uh…'

She knew he was bluffing. Knew it.

..But what if he wasn't?

'…'

Her throat felt dry. Her eyes refused to blink. Her brain felt like it had short-circuited, and her limbs felt heavy. The feeling in her body was foreign, wrong. She didn't like it, but she couldn't make it stop.

For the first time since she'd joined the Rangers, Evergreen didn't know what to do.

Ace looked back at the bush. His heart pounded, and sweat dripped down his brow and into his eyes. His muscles ached, but he was so, so close. He could see it: nearby, there was a small landing where he could get his balance, and then, with a leap, he could climb up to an outcrop where he could pick the flowers.

Without thinking, he looked down again, and his stomach jumped to his chest. The rocks below him seemed to spin, both close and far away at the same time. His jaw quivered, and a strong gust of wind nearly knocked him down.

He glanced toward Evergreen. His bluff had shut her up, if only for a moment. He could tell she was getting tired from the raggedness of her voice, but as soon as the other Rangers arrived, they'd be more than enough to overpower him.

His heart sank. His efforts wouldn't be enough. He was an earth pony, and that meant he was limited.

A stupid, limited earth pony.

Ace hesitated…

…until he imagined giving the flower to Nocturne, showing her how committed he was, and proving that she'd never have to doubt again.

Ace grit his teeth and blinked away a tear. 'I'm not limited. I can be better. Nocturne deserves better.'

More dust blew into his face, and his eyes watered as he desperately tried not to sneeze. His body shook.

"Ace, please! I-I… I…" Evergreen was stammering. He hadn't heard her stammer before. "Just let me help!"

Ace took a deep breath and, tensing his forelegs, pulled himself to the nearby landing. Shaking out his limbs, he looked up. It was right there. Just one more–

He felt a sharp sting on his flank.

And then, nothing. He felt nothing in his flank, then his leg, then his tail. The nothing spread throughout his body, and he whipped his head around to see a needle jammed into him.

Though her hooves shook, Evergreen spoke calmly and evenly. "Ace, I've stuck you with a tranquilizer. You're going to get sleepy now, but i-it will be okay."

Ace tried to say something, but his lips felt funny.

"Just lie down now."

Ace turned to the flowers. He was so close. He just needed to…

"Ace!"

With the last of his strength, Ace pushed himself into the air. He shot forward and reached out a hoof. It was there. He grit his teeth harder and fought to keep his vision from failing. Just a little more. The flowers were getting closer. And closer. And closer.

And further. Ace's eyes felt heavy, and his foreleg went slack. His vision blurred, and the only feeling left was an odd tickling in his stomach. His neck twisted, forced to the side by a hard smack that be barely felt. Something white was sticking out of his hind leg, which was bent in a way that it shouldn't have been.

And the river was getting closer. And closer. And closer.

"You know, if I find out you did this just so you could check in at work, I'm breaking your other hind leg."

Lying on his back, Ace could see the crusty light fixtures and decades-old artwork of the oldest wing of Canterlot General Hospital, an affront to the good work the ponies did there. The walls were painted a sickening yellow-orange, and the curtain on the window had a rainbow spiral design that clashed with everything.

He also saw his right hind leg propped up and in a cast.

But even with the painkillers making things hazy, he could always pick out Nocturne. Her beauty was one in a million, and her voice was the only one like it in the world.

His head rolled to the side. "I'm sorry, Babe. I… I was…" Ace shook his head to clear the fog, but his words were still slurred. "I wanted to..."

"Shh..." Nocturne rubbed his chest with a gentle hoof. "It's okay. Evergreen told me what happened."

"I… ruined the trip." Ace frowned. "Sorry we didn't go stargazing. Or try any of your… of your food."

Nocturne chuckled. "Hm-hm! Well, we're together now, at least. And don't worry about the food. I…" Her face scrunched up, and she glanced away. "…sort of burned the soup."

Despite the heaviness in his chest, Ace managed to laugh. "Heh. How do you burn soup?"

"Ugh!" Nocturne flipped her mane and griped, "So there were all these potatoes and carrots, and somepony said they were easy, so that I could, like, leave them there for twenty minutes or something." She gestured to her chest and went wide-eyed. "I mean, how was I supposed to know you need to keep stirring so the ones at the bottom don't get burned?" She furrowed her eyebrows at him. "Did you know that?"

Ace smiled. "Yeah, I did."

She was complaining, yes, but she was talking to him like any other day, like she always would after a rehearsal went poorly or when a concert was going to be out of town and they couldn't see each other for a week. For a moment, he felt normal.

"Well, I didn't." She sighed and looked at Ace. Her eyes were soft and sparkly. "So, yeah, don't worry about the food."

The room was still, and Ace enjoyed just listening to her breathing. As nice as it was, however, his guilt prodded at his chest. "I wanted to bring… bring you something nice. So you know I… I care."

Nocturne leaned in and hugged him. "I already know that, Hunk. You don't have to do something stupid for me like that. I love you, Ace."

Ace's foreleg felt weak, though he didn't know if it was from the painkillers or the rock-climbing. Regardless, he wrapped a leg around her. Her warmth soothed him. It chased away all the nothing in his body and left a feeling that he only got from her. "Love you, too, Nocturne."

After several moments, Nocturne pulled away. "By the way, Evergreen was super sorry."

Ace cocked his head to the side. "Why?"

"She said it was her job to keep you safe, and she felt bad that she couldn't, so she sent this with me." A field of magic surrounded Nocturne's horn, and she levitated a small gift bag with an attached letter onto Ace's bed.

Ace sat up, opened the letter, and read aloud:

--
Hey there, Ace,

Maybe it's not my place, but I'm sorry for what happened to your leg. I wish you–

Ace stopped reading suddenly. "Huh."

"What?"

"I… half expected her to write with that… ridiculous accent."

Nocturne threw her head back. "Ha!"

--
I wish you would have listened to reason, but I apologize for sticking you. If you're ever up by Vanhoover again, I'd be happy to take you two on a proper hike. Just no rock-climbing this time.

Hope you don't mind, but I sent Nocturne home with a little something. You seemed to think it was important, after all.

Best wishes,

Evergreen

Ace let the letter slip from his hooves and opened the bag. Inside was a potted plant, one with a distinctly closed purple bulb.

Ace smiled. "Heh."

Nocturne stuck out her lower lip. "What is it?"

Ace told her. He told her all about the Songbloom and why he had tried so hard to get it for her. He told her that it was special, just like her, and that he knew her voice would be perfect for opening it up. "Because you're the best… best marefriend ever, Nocturne. I love you so much."

Nocturne wore a quivering smile, and she blinked away a few tears.

Ace nuzzled her under the chin. "So go on…"

Nocturne cleared her throat and closed her eyes. She paused for a moment, then serenaded Ace with a lullaby, the special one she only sang when he was sick. Her rich voice filled the room, and even more than that, it filled his soul. While she sang, he forgot about the pain in his leg and the fear that they wouldn't stay together. He forgot his guilt. He forgot about work. While she sang, everything else melted away until it was just the two of them.

When she finished, Ace looked eagerly at the flower. His chest swelled with the hope that it had all been worth it, that Nocturne would finally see how special she was to him.

The bulb hadn't opened.

Ace slumped forward. He felt the weight of his stupidity pushing down on him, and he wanted to crawl someplace far away, out of anypony's sight. "I'm sorry…"

Nocturne shrugged. "Meh. Maybe next time." She levitated the flower over to a nearby table. "Really, don't worry about it. It's just a legend, and they're just flowers."

Ace blushed. "Then… flowers must not have… good taste." He looked up. Even as defeated as he felt, the radiance in Nocturne's eyes and the soft, sincere smile on her face told him that his efforts hadn't been in vain.

"Mm… No, they don't." Nocturne leaned in again and, with a warm nuzzle on his cheek, held him tightly. "But I do."

Cold Companionship - by Evergreen's Author

The ice palace’s interior was lit like the night sky. The high walls flickered in the light from the many lanterns; the ceiling sparkled with a thousand spots of light. Where they did not glow, they glistened with a smoothness like glass, in places mirroring the room and the crowds of ponies occupying it. And beneath the surface, enchanted lights pulsed, sending ribbons of blue, purple, green, and red across the walls like an aurora descended from on high.

“Still could use more supports,” said Ace Artisan.

The indigo mare next to him sighed. “Twelve. Twelve seconds. You're getting worse.”

“Can I help it if it's my job to notice these sorts of architectural deficiencies?”

She gave him a little nudge. “Right now, your job is to look nice and make this a nice evening. Are you really planning on fulfilling only half your contract?”

“Okay, point to Nocturne. You win.” He glanced down at the glass in his hoof. “Y’know, I could splash this wine on myself and force us to go back to the hotel.”

“Oh, blackmail, is it?” She grinned. “Well, if you do that, I can say for certain that the rest of this vacation won't be very pleasant for you.”

He shivered. “I could've told you that much.”

“You knew, right when they offered, that Vanhoover was going to be cold. You knew. Thinking otherwise was just self-deception on your part.”

Ace huffed, turning his attention away from her. In truth, it was actually lot warmer in here than one would expect, given the whole thing was made of ice. It was certainly better than outside, where a bitter breeze was blowing amid a heavy snow. Obviously they were trying to enhance the “winter” part of the Vanhoover Winterfest. Heck, he wouldn’t have put it past the organizers of this little shindig to have orchestrated some colder temperatures just to get everypony inside to gawk at the palace.

The layponies could gawk all they wanted, but to his architect’s eyes, the whole place looked hollow—and not just because it was. The way the walls rose straight up with only a column or two to break up the monotony, the way the ceiling was held in place only by a few arching ribs, the way most of the interior was nothing but empty air... all the flashing lights did was hide the fact that the structure was nothing more than a glorified igloo.

“Ace,” said Nocturne, “you’re getting that green-eyed look again.”

He sighed. “I know, I know.”

“Don’t fret. There’s always next year. Maybe the firm will pick your design then. I mean, they can’t give it to Von… Um… Von…”

“Von Kartenhaus,” Ace finished for her.

“Right. They can’t give it to him again. You’ll have your chance to shine, just you wait. After all, you’re Build It Higher’s representative at this whole thing, so they know you deserve at least some consolation. Just take note of that and enjoy the moment.”

Ace nodded, taking a long pull from his glass. He swilled the wine around his mouth, warming his gums, before swallowing it all at once, feeling the heat all the way down. Then, with a small sigh, he said:

“It’s because he’s a unicorn.”

Nocturne brought a hoof to her face. “Oh, for the love of…”

“It's the truth. The stallion's never worked in ice before, and yet, somehow, his designs get chosen over mine.”

She arched a brow. “You've never worked in ice before, either.”

“That's beside the point.” He cast a hoof around. “I could've made this place beautiful and capable of lasting all the way into summer!”

“Ace…”

“I tried to get him to put eight support arches in here instead of six. You know what he said to me? 'Eight is less symmetrical.' What does that even mean?!”

“Ace.”

“What?”

“Relax,” she said, putting a hoof on his shoulder. “Take all these thoughts, shove them aside, and just... cool off a bit.”

He breathed another sigh. “Okay. I’m cool. I’m cool. I’m... “ He blinked. “Wait. Was that a pun?”

She took an innocent sip of her drink, the corners of her lips curling upward. “Maybe. That's snow problem, is it?”

“Okay, you've made your point. I'll shut up.”

“Oh, no. I'm on a roll now. Nothing's going to wreck my floe.”

He gave her a bitter grin. “Remind me why I ever liked you, again?”

“Obviously it's because I've got an ice personality.”

Ace’s lament echoed off the glistening walls.

“Evening, sir. Evening ma'am. Evening, sirs. Evening. Evening. Eveni—”

Sergeant Evergreen cut off as a cough forced its way out her throat. Evidently something in the air disagreed with her. Or maybe it was simply because she'd had to repeat the same words for close to three hours now.

She sighed, sending a cloud of white up into the air. Her gaze followed it, above the milling crowds, past the myriad of ice sculptures scattered around the park, past the curtains of lit windows on the buildings surrounding the park, up to the night sky, where the city's lights cast an orange glow while blotting out the stars. A scattering of snowflakes fell down around her face, melting at the tip of her snout.

For what felt like the twelfth time today, she pondered simply taking wing and flying until she could see the stars again.

Vanhoover wasn't a bad city—goodness knows the ponies here were friendly enough—but it was still a city. Standing there on the sidewalk, with the furry collar of her winter coat pulled up around her neck and her Ranger cap nestled between her ears, she looked about as out of place as a moose at a curling match.

Still, the public needed a show of force every now and then, as her captain had said. And since Vanhoover’s population had grown by 30% because of the Winterfest, the local police needed the extra hooves. So, she did her duty, stood and waved at the crowds of tourists, gave a few words to the passing couples, posed for the odd picture or two.

Just a smiling face sandwiched between a uniform and hat.

She drew her collar a little closer, a shiver climbing up her back. The night was deepening, and the temperature was falling. Seemed like the wind was picking up, too.

That was odd. She looked up at the sky again. The city weather teams had brought in a bunch of flurries to help with the winter atmosphere, but there was a lot more snow falling than was normal for just a few snow clouds. Big, heavy flakes were raining down; she could already feel them weighing on the brim of her hat. The clouds above were turning dark.

A very different chill worked its way through her bones. “Uh oh…”

All at once, the skies opened up. Wind bellowed down from above, lashing against her face. Plumes of snow spiralled up from the ground in great curling tongues, and still more fell down on top of her like a white blanket.

Those hosers! They’d mixed too much cold air, too many clouds; they’d created a blizzard!

She leaned into the wind, pressing a hoof to her head to keep her hat from flying away. Even over the gale she could hear shouts of alarm; the ponies throughout the park were just as dismayed as she was. She spotted a group of three—a stallion, mare, and colt—stumbling through the sudden drifts. As she watched, two of them staggered and fell.

Spreading her wings, she leapt into action, bounding across the snowy expanse. “You folks all right?” she yelled over the wind.

She received a couple of nods, a shouted affirmative as she helped them to their hooves. Whipping her head around, she saw still more ponies caught out in the open. She moved to each in turn, offering what help she could, until she had a small herd of snow-driven ponies surrounding her.

They had to get to shelter. She grit her teeth, her hoof raised to shield her face. Squinting through the blinding snow, she spied a point of color in the distance. It was a doorway—the doorway to the ice palace.

“Everypony! This way!”

For what felt like the tenth time that evening, Ace wished he were elsewhere.

He’d mingled and talked and met all sorts of passing Vanhoover elites—most of them unicorns. He’d showcased himself as the representative of Build It Higher Designs, builders of this beautiful structure. He’d cursed Von Kartenhaus for not being there to do so himself.

And of course, every waking moment he fought to keep from critiquing the structure again. Even with Nocturne by his side, it was all he could do to keep himself distracted.

So, when the entrance doors suddenly burst open and a horde of ponies rushed in, he found himself not exactly grateful, but at least responsive to the change.

“What in the world—?” Nocturne cried, her mane whipping in the sudden gale.

“It’s a blizzard!” Ace yelled back.

“Who brings in a blizzard at a time like this?!”

As if on cue, a red-coated pegasus swooped into the hall, waving her hooves to the crowd. As the mass of bodies gradually tapered away, she alighted in the doorway, and put her shoulder into closing the doors. She whirled around, visibly panting, her green eyes scanning the area.

“That’s a Ranger, isn’t it?” Nocturne asked.

“Looks like it.”

“What’s going on? Did somepony on the weather team foul up?”

“I don’t know,” he said, looking up at the ceiling. “But if there’s a big storm out there…”

“What? Ace, what is it?”

All these warm bodies sending their heat up from below, and heavy snow pressing down from above…

“I don’t think this place was designed for this.”

Chaos.

Ponies scrambled, panicked. She looked around, feeling the tightness in her chest. She could handle this. She just had to stand up and take the reins.

She just had to be a Ranger.

Putting a hoof to her mouth, she blew a fierce whistle. “Everypony, if I could have your attention, please.”

Dozens of eyes turned to her. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Is anypony hurt? If so, come and see me. I can help. Now, we’re going to be here a while, judging by the storm. I need everypony to stick together. If you’ve got friends or family, keep ‘em close. It’ll help keep ya warm, too.”

Murmuring broke out as the crowd shifted, pairs and trios emerging from their ranks.

“Again, we’re going to be here a while. So, all of ya need to keep calm, and stay safe. We just need to wait it out.”

They were still frightened, she could tell. A lot of the eyes looking at her were wide. But still, most of them turned away and, thankfully, kept quiet for the most part.

She took a deep, shuddering breath. Hopefully, it’d stay that way.

“Ma’am?” Ace called out as he shouldered through the crowd. “Ma’am?”

The Ranger turned at his call, and he drew to a halt at her side. “Yes, sir. Sergeant Evergreen, Royal Equestrian Rangers. How can I help?”

“Name’s Ace Artisan. I’m an architect. This structure isn’t safe.”

She looked at him evenly, then her gaze swept the crowds. “How do you know?”

“I know the designer cut stability in favor of looking nice. This place was never built to withstand all this snow.”

Her gaze went back to the crowds. “Sir, please sit back down and be quiet.”

“B-be quiet? Ma’am, do you realize what’s at stake here?”

“Sir, please. Sit back down.”

“Why should I?”

She flared her wings and fixed him with a look that would've melted the walls. “Because right now this whole place is full of ponies who are ready to panic at the drop of a snowflake, and I’m one of them. So keep quiet and sit. Down.” Her expression softened, her wings drooping slightly. “Please.”

Ace stared back at her, wide-eyed. Then, slowly, he did as asked.

With a nod, the Ranger folded her wings and moved back through the crowd. He saw her exchange a few words with some of the other ponies, a comforting gesture or two. She was wearing that reassuring smile again, in contrast to his own expression, which was a frown deep enough to pull water from.

“I like her,” said Nocturne.

He whirled to face her. He hadn’t even noticed her entrance. "What?"

She nodded at the red-clad figure. “I said, I like her.”

His jaw dropped open. “Are you messing with me again? Because now’s really not a good time, Nocturne.”

She looked him in the eye. “She reminds me of you.”

His frown returned, but this time it was more curious than angry. “You’re going to have to explain that one.”

“She’s about the only pony here who’s actually taking a stand. Despite everything else going on, she’s up there in front of everypony.” She blinked, her eyes going distant for a moment. “A lone tree amid a storm. Hmm... there might be a song there.”

“I’m not following.”

“What I’m saying is, don’t make her an enemy. You’re on the same side.”

Ace opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a noise like a tree being snapped in two. The clear ice around the doors gave way, the ceiling above crumbling down on top of them. A cloud of fine snow billowed up the hall, blocks of hard ice crashed to the floor. The ceiling kept crumbling, dumping more and more wet snow onto the floor.

The crowd surged back, fresh screams misting into the chilly air. Ace threw himself in front of Nocturne, shielding her from the rush of white. With a few final tumbling crashes, the onslaught ceased. Looking up, he saw the entrance had completely caved in, the snow piled all the way up to the ceiling.

“Is everypony all right?” Evergreen had taken to the air and was casting her gaze around the crowd. Everypony have their buddies?”

“Sergeant Evergreen,” Ace said.

She turned to face him. There was a weariness to her features. “You had something to say, Mr. Artisan?”

“Yes, I did, thank you.”

“Go ahead.”

With a slight shake in his hooves, he stepped forward in front of the crowd. “Okay. Everypony just relax. I’m an architect. I have a plan, but I need every able-bodied pony to help with it. Give me unicorns over here, pegasi over here, and earth ponies here. If there’s anypony out there skilled with masonry or carpentry, or heck, if you’ve ever used building blocks, bring your expertise up front. And if somepony can lend me a sheet of paper and a pencil, that’d be perfect.”

As the crowd began to break up and reform around Ace, Evergreen turned to Nocturne. “That your coltfriend?”

“Yes, he is.”

She smirked. “I like him. He’s a keeper.”

“I know,” she said, nodding.

“...Now, the biggest point of stress on any of the arches is on the voussoirs just under the keystone here”—Ace tapped a hoof on the sheet of paper, indicating the blocks nearest the pinnacle of the arch—”so what we need to do is reinforce those against the weight of the snow.”

“Gotcha,” said Evergreen, nodding. “What aboot the walls? Any worries with those?”

“I don’t think so. The snow drifting up outside ought to act as makeshift buttresses. Good thing, too, because we couldn’t get out there to reinforce them anyway. No, the big concern is the vertical force weighing down the roof. Now, we might get some use out of simply packing snow into the existing arches to try and keep them from melting, but I’m thinking we’d be better served by reinforcing the whole roof via corbel arch.”

Evergreen bobbed her head. “Yah, a corbel arch. Which is what, exactly?”

He took up the pencil and started sketching again. “Basically, what we’re going to build are some additional arches along the ceiling to distribute the weight a bit more evenly. We’ll link some sheets of ice together, drive some anchors into the walls, and stack some block up to meet the ceiling.”

Evergreen smirked, nodding toward the pile of rubble at the end of the hall. “And for that, we’ve got a bunch of blocks ready to use.”

“Precisely.” He looked at the assembled earth ponies. “Any of you with some thick horseshoes, I need you to recover the biggest pieces of ice that you can. Unicorns”—he looked to the next group—“you’ll be doing most of the heavy lifting. Pool your telekinesis so we can stack these things high.”

“And pegasi,” said Evergreen, “you’ll be with me. We’re going to be helping ease things into place from the air.”

“Right.” Ace looked around at the ponies—at his work crew. “Time is critical here. Let’s make this place safe.”

Evergreen stamped a hoof. “You heard him, everypony. Let’s get to work, eh?”

They built long into the night, Ace directing the construction and Evergreen serving as his eyes in the sky. The blizzard hissed at them through the ceiling, keeping them focused. Those ponies who weren’t actively involved in the work clustered together at the far end of the palace, where Nocturne did her best to keep everyone calm with her soothing voice.

By the end of it, they had added a whole new vault to the ceiling. Evergreen had the bright idea to use some of the stray columns, and after Ace determined that they weren’t actually load-bearing—with some more swearing directed at the palace’s poor design—they were able to build one more arch than was planned.

Looking around, Ace nodded in approval. “Ladies and gents, I believe we are now secure.”

“You heard him, everypony,” said Evergreen. “Job well done, eh?”

A huzzah sounded from the group of workers. Hoof bumps were exchanged, and gradually, the ponies filtered back toward the far end. Ace and Evergreen followed behind.

“Job well done indeed, Sergeant,” Ace said, looked at her. “Now we just see if it holds.”

“I wasn’t planning on sleeping tonight anyway. I’ll patrol the ceiling and keep an eye out for anything out of place.”

“Much appreciated. I’m not sleeping, either.”

Evergreen smirked, then turned toward the crowd. Nocturne was singing a slow, smooth lullaby. A number of ponies—especially the foals—had fallen asleep against one another.

"She's your marefriend, eh?"

He smiled. "Yeah. She certainly is. I hardly deserve her."

"Don't be selling yourself short now. Everything I've seen so far says you're a great guy."

"Thanks."

They were quiet for a moment.

"How about you?"

"Eh?"

"Is there a stallion in your life?"

For a split-second, her eyes went wide, but then she chuckled. "I'm afraid the job's already got me taken care of."

"That's a no, then?"

Her gaze broke from his, falling to the floor. “There's not much room for anypony else in my life. Ya spend a lotta time out in the woods as a Ranger.”

“So what about when you're not a Ranger? What about when you settle down?”

“I…” She paused. “I guess I haven't really thought aboot that. I don't know.”

The murmur of the surrounding crowd settled between the two of them. Ace shook his head. "Sorry. I just... well, I tend to pry into the details."

She looked back to him with a grin. "Oh, no problem. That's a good thing for an architect."

"I sure hope so." He held out a hoof. “Now, it might go without saying at this point, but have we made up for our first meeting?”

She took his hoof in hers and shook it. “It’s all sap under the tap now, yah.” She tilted her head, one ear flicking back and forth. “Huh. You hear that?”

He perked his own ears up. “No. What is it?”

“I think I hear the storm passin’.”

Dawn came clear and cold, and with it came rescue. Far above Vanhoover, Cloudsdale hovered like a great, benevolent beehive; pegasi swarmed from it, crisscrossing the heavens and clearing away the last few traces of snowy clouds. On the ground, Vanhoover police and Rangers directed ponies toward aid stations; a few had hot beverages to give to the crowd making its way out of the palace.

They'd taken a construction crane to the structure itself, which, ironically, had completely wrecked what remained of the entrance. Rather than try anything with finesse, they’d simply shoveled the debris out wholesale, leaving a jagged, gaping hole where the palace’s gleaming entrance had been. Aesthetics hardly mattered to those who had spent the howling night inside, however.

“Good to smell the clean, free air again, eh?” said Evergreen.

Ace yawned. “Good to be on our way to a safe and quiet sleep somewhere.”

“I don’t know what you two are talking about,” said Nocturne. “That was one of the most exciting nights I’ve had in a while.”

“Too exciting,” said Ace. “I am now far less envious of the foremen at our job sites.”

“And see? You learned something from all this. Win-win.”

“Any landing you walk away from…” said Evergreen.

Ace nodded. “So, Sergeant, what’s next for you?”

“Please, Mr. Artisan. Just call me Evergreen.”

“Well, Ms. Evergreen, what adventures await you now?”

“Me? I’m going to have a heck of a report to submit to my superiors aboot all a’ this. I don’t think I’ll be very kind to the Vanhoover weather team.”

“I don’t think I’ll be very kind to Mr. von Kartenhaus or his architectural work. In fact, I think I’ll write a full dissertation. ‘Effects of Body Heat and Blizzard Conditions on Under-Designed Ice Structures.’”

Nocturne coughed. “That might generate the wrong sort of attention, dear.”

“‘The Importance of Additional Overhead Supports in the Design and Construction of Ice Palaces?’”

“Try again.”

“‘Form Versus Function: a Qualified Analysis of the Utility of Ice in Large-Scale Construction?’”

She nodded. “Better.”

“Well, it sounds like you two have your own plans squared away,” said Evergreen. If you’re ever up in this neck of the woods, or better yet, in the actual woods, don’t hesitate to call on me.”

Ace shivered. “No offense, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

Nocturne gave him a nudge. “We’d love to. Maybe next year’s Winterfest?”

Ace moaned. “Please, no.”

“Oh come on, Ace. They’ll probably erect an ice sculpture of you after all that’s happened.”

Evergreen chuckled. “It’d be Ranger endorsed, I can tell ya that.”

“Excuse me, Ma’am?”

The trio turned to the source of the voice. A lanky stallion with a long overcoat and a pencil behind his ear stood behind Evergreen. “Vanhoover Times. I’m looking for the architect. The one who saved everypony?”

Evergreen looked at Ace, smiling. He looked between her, the reporter, and Nocturne. His jaw hung open uncertainly.

Nocturne grinned and motioned with a flick of the hoof. “Well, there you go.”

With a confident smirk, Ace straightened up. “Yes,” he said, striding forward. “I’m the one you’re looking for.”

The reporter whipped out his pencil and notepad and began throwing question after question at him. He was soon joined by more reporters, all of them with notepads, cameras, and further inquiries. Ace smiled wide, answering each in turn, every now and then giving a humble shrug or two.

Evergreen chuckled. “He’s a good stallion. You really are lucky.”

Nocturne smiled. “I know.”

“I admit, I’m kinda jealous. You...” She looked away. “You two make a great couple.”

Nocturne looked at her for a moment, then gave her a warm smile. “Yes, we’re close. But that’s not the only way to be. After all, a lone tree puts down thicker roots, grows a tougher bark. The lone tree stands stronger on its own, provides a calm spot even in a storm, and that can be the first step in growing a whole forest.”

Evergreen stared at her.

Nocturne giggled. “Sorry, I tend to get wordy sometimes. It comes with being a singer.”

She grinned, shaking her head. “It’s no problem at all, Miss. It probably comes in handy.”

“It certainly lets me talk rings around Ace sometimes.” She looked toward him, where he was all but silhouetted by the camera flashes. “In fact, I’d better go and make sure he doesn’t start yelling at some impertinent question.”

Evergreen waved her on. “Don’t let me stop ya.”

With a final, friendly nod, Nocturne sauntered up to Ace. Evergreen watched as she put her hoof on his shoulder, and as they exchanged a deep look and warm smiles. Then they turned back to throng of reporters.

She watched them for a long moment—how they leaned on each other, the shared glances, the mist of their breath mingling in the air. Then her gaze left the pair and turned skyward. The sky was brightening, the pale blue shining unhindered, save for one cloud hanging in its own little corner of the heavens, a pointed triangle of white in the vast expanse.

The lone, strong tree, eh? That sounded okay to her.

Quarterfinals: Firefly vs. Falcata - Winner: Firefly (by Vote)

Author's Note

THE OFFICIAL CONTEST COMPENDIUM

Quarterfinals: Firefly vs. Falcata - Winner: Firefly (by Vote)

Convalescence - by Firefly's Author

Falcata tucked in her left wing and flared her right wing just so. Her neck was inches away from the manticore’s razor-sharp fangs when she snap-rolled and flew a perfect corkscrew path around the beast, poising her a hoof's span above its back.

Whither thy prey, foul beast!?

The deadly creature’s eyes widened in confusion and then alarm as it perceived the sudden reversal in their positions. Falcata’s blood sang as her heart beat furiously, wings spread wide, sword in her good right hoof, lips pulled back in a feral grin.

Now I am the hunter!

The manticore dove to evade her. She matched its maneuvers easily, more nimble in flight than the lumbering beast.

I amPegasus!

The manticore canted his wings, decelerating dangerously fast. She did not change position by so much as a hair’s breadth.

I. Rule. The Skies!

Falcata roared.

Hers again was the fury of valor in the fight against the implacable foe. Hers again was the hoof of justice thwarting those who would prey on the innocent. For the first time in over a thousand years the Falcata felt truly and completely alive. Her ears ached to hear the sound of the monster’s body hitting the ground with a most satisfying thump.

She raised her sword and began the swing that would sever the manticore’s head from its body. There was a massive crunch and...

... she awoke.

Elder gods! she moaned. The pain was everywhere, yet somehow felt very remote.

Wherefore is the sky? Above her was a closed, white surface.

Turning her head brought a bed into view.

A hospice!

The bed was occupied by an orange pegasus stallion with a red mane looking at her with concern.

I know him! It took a few heartbeats for her addled wits to deliver a name.

Firefly. The pegasus who would be a mage. How ironic!

Falcata shared a sick-room with the very pony whose attack by Everfree manticores had prompted her embarrassingly ill-executed hunt.

She groaned in shame.

“Miss Falcata!” Firefly could hardly see her cream colored coat through all the bandages and splints. Even her wings were immobilized. Her only unbound limb was the short stump of her left foreleg, the prosthetic she always wore having been removed.

He had seen her on visits to Princess Twilight, when Falcata was on duty as ceremonial guard. There had been plenty of gossip in town when she first arrived, hired by the princess despite having only three legs. Firefly himself thought it was no big deal. Pegasi could compensate for the loss reasonably well with their wings.

Far more fascinating was how before she had been petrified and lost for over a millennium, Falcata had known Clover the Clever personally. He had been itching to talk with her ever since the nurse wheeled her gurney into his room.

Firefly smiled. “You gave us quite a scare!” he said brightly.

His ears drooped when Falcata turned her towards the window. She gazed out onto the violet tinged cerulean of sunset. It was a minute before she spoke.

“Twas the second manticore that felled me, Mister Firefly?” she asked in a gravelly voice.

“So I hear.” He was surprised that she remembered his name. “Princess Twilight saw you being struck. She said the second manticore rammed into you at full speed from a dive.” He grinned. “You’re one tough old bird, Miss Falcata! The manticore didn’t survive the collision! It’s unfortunate that its mate got away, but then the princess had her hooves full rescuing you!”

In the dying light he saw her eyes grow wide and her jaw drop.

Firefly’s smile faded. “Miss Falcata, are you okay?”

The mare’s only response was a tear.

“Falcata?”

“Silence, knave!” she snapped, causing him to start and clutch his blanket tighter. She turned a face full of rage and tears towards him. “Is my shame so sweet to thine eyes that thou must needs bait me!?” She laid her head back, shaking in her restraints and breathing hard. It took a few minutes for her emotions to abate.

“Prithy, sir,” she said in a cold voice, “stay thy tongue and let me be.”

Firefly swallowed. Feeling both helpless and a bit guilty, he turned over on his side and gave the troubled mare some privacy as the room grew dark with the end of day.

Falcata pushed into the undergrowth of the Everfree forest, slashing a path through the brambles and thorns with her eponymous sword. She bled from several deep scratches to both forelegs. Behind her, Clover held her shield with his magic, preventing the remaining branches from scratching him in turn.

“Keep thee well behind me, mage!” she said with a grin. “Piking that witch’s head shall be the Legion’s work, and mine shall be the hoof to deliver the very stroke of justice!” She wiped the sweat from her brow with a fetlock, and laughed. “Thy pretty new cloak will be safe from harm, and thy dainty self to boot!”

The unicorn’s expression remained grim. “Thou shouldst be wary, Falcata! This witch hath dispatched more than one Legionnaire. She be right subtle, and quick to anger. Do not underestimate her!”

She stopped and took a few well earned breaths. “How strange these times in which we live, that after the accord of the Three Tribes, a unicorn and a pegasus would make common cause to hunt a unicorn exile!” She glanced behind to catch his reply.

He'd opened his mouth to respond when his eyes grew wide in alarm. She snapped her head forward and saw the witch a mere ponylength in front of her. With a shout she raised her falcata and stepped forward to strike the witch down. Her sword swished and passed right through her.

An illusion!

There was a loud detonation behind her. Falcata looked back in a panic. Clover stood cowering behind her shield, smoke rising from his right flank, his pea-green coat smeared with soot and blood. A movement caught her eye. The real Witch of the Everfree stood three paces to her left, along a path that had not been visible moments before.

Without hesitation she launched herself forward, falcata held high to cut the witch down before she could cast another spell. There was a blinding flash, the smell of hot metal, and blood. Taking a step back, Falcata stumbled. Looking down she saw a ragged stump, all that remained of her left forelimb. Blood fountained from it with her every heartbeat.

She heard Clover’s scream, or maybe it was her own, and darkness took her.

Falcata awoke in the dark, trembling, the echo of the scream long past still on her lips. Her trussed up limbs throbbed as her heart beat fit to burst its way out of her bandaged ribcage.

“Falcata?” said a male voice. “Are you okay?”

Firefly. Not him. Not Clover.

The ache in her heart was still there. Even after a thousand years.

Falcata forced a steady breath. “Worry not, sir,” she replied. “Twas but a nightmare, and a very old one at that.”

The stallion moved on his bed.

“Miss Falcata, I...” he began, “I wish to apologize for what I said earlier. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Her thoughts and recollections were still somewhat hazy.

“I’m sorry! Really!” he went on. “I shouldn’t have called you a tough old bird.”

Falcata snorted. And then she chuckled.

“To such as I, being styl’d a tough old bird is consider’d high praise indeed!”

The stallion continued. “And it was my fault you went on this hunt to start with. If I had been more alert those manticores would never have had been able to hurt anypony in the first place.”

“Pish-posh, sir,” answered Falcata. “Tis my duty to defend...”

Her voice faltered when, finally, the memory of their short exchange of the previous evening returned. She felt the heat of shame and bitter disappointment upon her features.

And I failed. The world felt suddenly grey and unforgiving.

Honour demands this much at least. What little of it I have left.

“Tis not I who should take offense, but rather thee.” Falcata’s ears drooped low. “No, Mister Firefly, twas I who struck out in my shame, and for that I do cry your pardon. My wrath at thee was a craven thing.” She turned her face to the window.

“You see, after my release from the cockatrice’s curse, and my wanderings in this strange, passionless echo of my Equestria, I thought I had finally made me a place for myself, here in Ponyville. I was mistaken.”

“Mistaken how? Aren’t you in Princess Twilight’s guard?”

“I am. But I will resign my commission and depart this town as soon as I be granted leave of this hospice.”

“Really? Whyever would you do that?”

“Because,” she replied hotly, “I am a guardpony. It is my duty to protect Her Majesty, not to be rescued by Her like some hapless foal!”

“Well,” replied Firefly, “why should it matter who saved whom? You’re both safe!”

Falcata shook her head. “Do none of the ponies of this age understand honor!?”

“Honestly,” the stallion persisted, “would you have prefered that Princess Twilight leave you to die and chase after the other manticore?”

“Aye!” she hissed. “Aye! A thousand times over, aye! Rather than be thus disgraced!”

“That’s crazy! You’ve got so much to live for!”

Falcata’s eyes narrowed. “Thou callow youngling! What knowest thee of life?” Her laugh was half a sob. “I have lived for over a thousand years! I have seen battles where pony fought pony and took pride in the killing. I have lost a piece of myself, been diminished and rendered useless to those I would love, and loathsome to those who would love me. I have seen life and death aplenty, and know their faces far more intimately than thou couldst imagine!”

Suddenly bone tired, Falcata lay her head down. Outside, Luna’s brilliant night called out to her, adding the pang of longing to the constant pain of her injuries.

“You see, Mister Firefly, there are no constant stars in my firmament. There is no home for me, other than in memories that fade with every passing hour. More the fool I to have hoped otherwise.” She took a deep, trembling breath.

“Miss Falcata, I’m sure that if you spoke with the princess she would tell you that she feels otherwise.”

“It is my honour that is at stake here, Mister Firefly!” she said hotly. “Not Her Majesty’s! I will not be a sham! I will not be a –” her breath caught in her throat “– a broken relic, more pitied than useful!”

Silence stretched. She closed her eyes.

“I tire, sir, and would fain cease these bitter ruminations. Let us sleep now, please.”

Falcata awoke to the enticing smell of breakfast. Firefly was awake and eating. She looked away, hoping to discourage idle prattle.

A nurse entered the room. “And how do we feel this morning, Miss Falcata?” she said cheerily.

Her stomach answered with a loud rumble.

“We hunger, nurse,” said Falcata archly. “But we also find ourselves fettered and impotent.”

Still smiling, the nurse was pushing the breakfast cart closer to Falcata’s bed when a gong sounded and a voice announced: “Code blue in room 228. Repeat. Code blue in room 228.”

The nurse jerked to a halt and turned towards Firefly. “This might take a while. Mister Firefly, you’re no longer restricted to bed, would you please assist Miss Falcata with her meal?”

Firefly nodded. “Sure.” He pushed aside his own breakfast.

Satisfied that things were in-hoof, the nurse rushed from the room.

With his muzzle, Firefly pushed the breakfast cart closer to Falcata’s bed. Rising on his hind legs, he wiped his forehooves with a cloth.

“So what do you want first, Miss Falcata, the OJ, toast, or some oatmeal?”

She looked away. “Thou need not do this.”

He laughed. “You heard the nurse! I know an order when I hear one!”

She couldn’t prevent a guffaw of her own. Nor the look of pain on her face that followed the
brief convulsion of her barrel.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “Aye. A drink of juice would be right welcome.”

He held up a folded paper box with a paper straw protruding from its end. She extended her head forward and emptied the box in two strong sips, immediately feeling better as the sweet concoction hit her stomach. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” He picked up the bowl of oatmeal in one hoof and a spoon in the other.

She stared at the spoon balefully. “I... do not share this modern affectation for shoving metal implements into my mouth. I find the taste displeasing. Just place the bowl within my reach.” He did so and she pushed her muzzle into the bowl, making short work of the oatmeal.

The breakfast was meager by her normal standards, yet she felt incapable of swallowing another bite. She burped loudly, before remembering that such was considered rude nowadays. “That will suffice, Mister Firefly. I thank thee for thy kindness and good office, sir.”

He nodded. “You’re most welcome.”

She lay back her head as he pushed the cart away. Climbing back into his own bed, he resumed eating his own meal. She noticed him glancing thoughtfully in her direction often as he chewed.

“Out with it, Mister Firefly,” she stated. “Ruin not thy digestion by holding in that which wishes to come out.”

He gazed into her eyes. “Might I ask you a question of a personal nature?”

She nodded.

“Could you tell me about Clover the Clever? Were you really his friend?”

Falcata’s ears drooped. Thinking of Clover made evident a gaping void in her life.

“He was so... unexpected.” Her gaze drew inward. “Thou must needs understand, in those days, relations between ponies of different tribes were rare exceeding, and of necessity quite... circumspect.” She blushed. “But, aye, I knew him well. If not for him I would be dead, though sometimes” – her expression was suddenly fierce – ”I would gladly barter this life of confusion for the sweet comfort of having died in his embrace.”

Firefly’s eyes widened. “You loved him!”

“Aye, I did.” She replied. Her expression softened. “He was such a timid lad, afraid of the smallest insect, yet, so fearless in defense of Harmony. He changed forever my ideas of what it meant to be a good pony.”

Firefly smiled. “How did you meet?”

She chuckled.

“I were a junior pony in Commander Hurricane’s guard, on sentry duty at the entrance of the cave wherein the tribal leaders did hold meetings, when this little green unicorn colt bedecked within an ugly brown cloak, hardly older than m’self, comes up insisting that he was Princess Platinum’s factotum!” She raised an eyebrow.

“So what did then transpire? I did turn him ’round and kick his flank back down the path whence he had come!” She laughed heartily. “I made me quite a face when he return’d with the princess and her retinue! He did approach me forthwith and asked of me my name.”

Her expression softened again. “I gave it, expecting the worst, and he introduced himself again, as if nothing awkward had ever happened twixt us.” She sighed. “Twas the first time in my life I had e’er felt friendship from a non-pegasus. From thence forward, he did make a point to come speak with me whenever we did meet.”

Firefly chuckled.

Falcata’s eyes lit up. “Aye, and there were the one time he thought some miscreant had absconded with his cloak, and he galloped hither and thither in a panic, until finally I discovered that it had naught but blown away whilst drying in the sun!”

The rest of the morning went by in a blur as Falcata fondly recounted her many adventures with Clover the Clever.

Firefly watched as the same nurse that had brought them breakfast wheeled in their lunches. Before leaving, she gave Firefly a pointed look and made a feeding gesture with a hoof. Getting the message, he nodded, and the nurse trotted out happily.

If this continues they’ll have to add my name to the staff list, he thought.

He ate his own lunch as quietly as possible, keeping an eye on his sleeping roommate. Falcata had talked for over two hours before she finally tired and drifted off. After her stories, Firefly would never read Clover’s writings the same way again.

It didn’t take long for the enticing smells to call Falcata from slumber. Her nose twitched as her muzzle turned towards the scent of food.

Firefly slid off of his bed and pushed Falcata’s meal closer. When her eyes opened she smiled. “Mister Firefly!” Her eyes widened as she noticed that he no longer wore his hospital gown. “Art thou discharged from this cheerful demesne?”

He offered her a juice box. “Please, just call me Firefly. I can leave as soon as the doctor gives me a final examination.” Falcata again downed the juice without hesitation. He lifted a daisy sandwich to her lips. “But I will be back to visit later, Miss Falcata.”

“Falcata will do,” she said, and then decimated the sandwich in four huge bites.

“You certainly have no restraint with food!”

The mare blushed. “Aye. I’ve been told it is not considered very comely to eat thus.”

“Oh, I don’t think you’re the only one who can scarf down food in this little town. Not that it’s a problem here, this isn’t Canterlot after all! And the ponies of Ponyville are amongst the most accommodating I’ve ever met.”

She turned an ear in his direction. “How so?”

He held a buttered scone up to her mouth and she took a huge bite.

“I wasn’t born here. I arrived at a very low point in my life, when I thought there was no place anywhere where I could simply be me, and not just a tool for other ponies’ plans.” He smiled sheepishly. “That, and the freedom to pursue my passion. You see, nothing has interested me more than magic since I was a foal. Admittedly, it’s an odd avocation for a pegasus. My parents were devastated. They had named me Firefly after the pegasus general.”

Falcata swallowed, then snorted. “I knew him. He was surly, miserly and vile tempered, but he flew like the wind itself.” She smacked her lips. “I’d much rather your company than his, truth be told!”

Firefly laughed and bowed. “The way to a mare’s heart is through her stomach, so I’ve heard.” He held up an apple for her to bite. “As I was saying, Ponyville is a special place. Different. The townsfolk made room for me. I finally found... myself here.” He laughed, embarrassed.

Falcata swallowed the last of the apple, including the core. “Princess Twilight is most certainly a different sort,” she said. “And hers is the light that guides this place.”

Firefly shook his head. “I thought so too when I first arrived, but not anymore.” He help a cup of tea to Falcata’s lips. He chose his words as she sipped. “Now I think that it’s not Princess Twilight that made Ponyville, but rather that Ponyville made Princess Twilight.”

“What!?” Falcata sputtered as some tea went down the wrong way. Firefly wiped her chin with a napkin.

“If you think about it, she was just an ordinary unicorn when she was sent here by Princess Celestia. Rumour has it she used to prefer being by herself. Now she’s the Princess of Friendship! This place changed her, she’s told me so herself. Also, do you think it a coincidence that all six Bearers of the Elements of Harmony live in proximity to this town?”

He offered her a drink of water, which she gulped down hurriedly. “Thou hast the right of it.” She nodded. “It beggars belief that all these wonders have come to this sleepy hamlet without some guiding agency.”

Firefly smiled. “Then Falcata, is it any harder to believe that Harmony, or fate, or whatever you want to call it, brought us here for a purpose as well? That Ponyville might just have a place for a pegasus who wants to do magic, and a warrior lost in time?”

Falcata gazed at the ceiling, lips pressed tight.

I mustn’t push her too hard, he thought. He pulled her tray away and noticed the doctor standing in the doorway, staring at him with a very wide grin on her face.

“You look perfectly fine to me, Mister Firefly,” she said. “You’re discharged from the hospital. Try not to come back so soon next time.” She turned on her hooves and left.

Firefly turned his head back to the mare on the bed. “I’ll be by to see you later, M... Falcata.”

She nodded, but didn’t seek his eye. “Fare thee well, Firefly.”

He left hoping his words had gotten through to the mare, and not just made her situation more difficult.

Mid-morning painted the walls of Falcata’s room so bright looking at them hurt her eyes. She shifted carefully onto her side. Earlier the nurses had removed the bindings on her wings, leaving her some freedom to move around in her bed. Her barrel was still bound tight due to several cracked ribs, and the limbs of her right side were still in splints.

There was a knock at the door.

“Enter,” she called.

Her former roommate came in, carrying a tall frosted glass tied with a bow.

“Firefly,” she said, “I wish you a pleasant morn!”

“Morning, Falcata!” He smiled broadly. “It must be a relief to have your wings free!”

“Aye... I mean, yes, it is.” Falcata winced internally. Will I ever get a proper grasp of modern speech?

The stallion approached her bed. “I have a little gift for you.” He held out the glass.

A huge grin split her muzzle. “Do mine eyes deceive me? Be this a Rainbow Blitzer?”

Firefly’s smile matched her own. “Direct from Minnie Milk’s Café! She says Hi, by the way, and wants you to know she’ll come by later.” He tilted his head to one side. “You know, maybe you’ve got more friends in Ponyville than you think!”

Falcata’s smile faded as she took the still frosty milkshake from him using her wingtips.“Must we again chew over that topic?”

Firefly sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like a broken record. I just wanted one last chance to change your mind before Princess Twilight comes to visit at lunchtime.”

Falcata regarded him severely. “As I did most clearly state to thee yestereve, Mister Firefly, I consider this a matter of mine own honour. I should hope you will understand and respect my feelings in this regards.”

He nodded, eyes on his own forehooves. “I understand.” He glanced up sadly. “I hope we can still be friends, though.”

“Of that I have no question!” She took a huge, long slurp of the milkshake, followed with an enormous burp. “Ah, but that’s good!” she said, putting the drink down on an elevated tray next to her bed.

Her expression serious, she looked into Firefly’s face. “I have one more favour to ask of thee, one which I fear is of a somewhat delicate nature.”

“Sure,” he replied, eyes downcast. “I’ll do anything I can to help.”

She pointed at the room’s closet with a wing. “Couldst thee fetch me and help me don my uniform? I shan’t be seen by Her Majesty wearing this infernal gown! She wouldst most assuredly boot me from without my post!”

It took a whole glorious three seconds for Firefly to work out the implications of her words. She only winced a few times when the stallion lunged forward and wrapped her in an enthusiastic hug. Looking out over his shoulder through the window, the tiny hamlet of Ponyville called to her. Whether it was Harmony or fate, or something else entirely, there was no mistaking the words the spirit of the town whispered into her heart.

Welcome home.

Falcata vs. Firefly - by Falcata's Author

Firefly had been having a perfectly ordinary day in Ponyville, the first one in a long time. Tirek, the Bugbear, Cranky and Muriel’s wedding, and the Yak visit had kept Firefly quite occupied with either cleanup or taking over for Rainbow. It had been a busy time, but finally it was over, leaving Firefly some hours to visit the library in Princess Twilight’s crystal castle. He had taken out a good mystery novel written by somepony called A.K Yearling, and was planning to curl up in his couch to read it in one night.

At least that was the plan until Rainbow Dash alighted next to him, just a few feet outside of the entrance to the castle. Firefly had gotten used to his boss’s sudden appearances by now though, so he kept a hold of his book and merely turned to Rainbow, his golden eyes narrowed.

“Hello Rainbow, how are things going?”

Rainbow grinned. “Pretty good. Unfortunately, I kinda need to ask you for a favor, Firefly.”

Rolling his eyes, Firefly chuckled. “I expected as much. What is it this time? Filing? Liaising with the Canterlot Weather Office?” Firefly suddenly swallowed. “Or are you… for some crazy reason, asking me to lead the team through the ‘Thresher’ course again?”

Involuntarily shivering, Rainbow glared at him. “You know as well as I do that we’re never having you lead the team through that course again.”

Firefly winced. “Duly noted. So what is it?”

Reaching behind her, Rainbow held out a set of saddlebags, each filled to the brim with papers. Mystified, Firefly took the bags and nearly dropped them in surprise because of their weight.

“These are resumes and cover letters for the position of part-time thunder-wrangler. I need you to interview the applicants for me,” said Rainbow. Firefly sagged underneath the saddlebags and looked at her questioningly. She gave him a sheepish smile and rubbed her head. “I need to go and save the world with Twilight again,” said Rainbow.

Firefly gaped at her. “Seriously? How am I supposed to do this, boss? I’ve barely been on the team for a year!”

Rainbow shrugged nonchalantly, but to Firefly’s eye, it looked almost stiff. “I just wanna see if you can do better here than in the clouds. It ain’t a big deal,” she said, not meeting his eye.

Firefly glared at his boss, who softly punched his shoulder and grinned. “Oh don’t look so sad, egghead. You’ll be fine. Anyway,” —she glanced at the castle— “I have to fly. See you later!”

With that, Rainbow shot off, leaving a baffled Firefly with a set of incredibly heavy saddlebags.

Muttering to himself, Firefly levered them onto his back before beginning the long trot to his office, all the while wondering how in the world Rainbow had managed to fly with them.

“So, Falcata, tell me about yourself,” asked Firefly, keeping his voice neutral as he glanced over the extremely messy cover letter and resume. He needed to stay professional after all.

He could understand the mess, though. The smiling yellow mare seated across from him was missing her left foreleg, meaning she needed to use her mouth to write and had one less hoof to brace the paper.

What Firefly didn’t understand, and couldn’t believe, was what was actually on the epic— well, really long cover letter that she had written, as well as the ridiculously long resume.

“I am a pegasus centurion from after Equestria’s unification. I came to this era after my friend Clover the Clever used a cockatrice to petrify me in stone so as to save my life after fighting the Witch of the Everfree Forest. I— uh…” Falcata tried very hard to glance discreetly at a small card she held in her remaining hoof, but frankly anypony could have seen it.

“Skills and hobbies… Ah yes. I’m an excellent swordfighter, and a strong flyer, who is cool under pressure. I enjoy pushing myself beyond my limits, reading novels, and fencing.”

Firefly raised an eyebrow. That was certainly the most unique pitch he had heard so far. Despite her use of the cue card, he could tell from Falcata’s sincere smile that she was telling the truth. Besides, he had come across an article recently studying the effects of petrification on ponies and animals. As far as the researchers of that stcudy ould tell, the magic of a Cockatrice’s petrification had an indefinite length, so her story was completely plausible. Still, Firefly needed some form of verification.

“Okay… Which legion were you assigned to?” he asked.

“Well up to the year 7 After Unification, I was with The Nineteenth,” replied Falcata.

Firefly’s eyes widened. “But I read that the Nineteenth Legion was destroyed in Trottenburg Forest in 4 AU along with the Seventeenth and the Eighteenth.”

Falcata blinked in surprise “You are very well read, mister Firefly, but while I would admit we were routed, the Nineteenth was hardly destroyed. After all, I was the one who discovered that the war mage Armanius had betrayed us to the Griffons.”

Interest perked, Firefly leaned forward and his ears perked up. “So Armanius was indeed the traitor? Why did he betray Equestria?” he asked.

Her eyes hardening, Falcata grimaced. “Bits. He was promised a princess’s ransom by the Griffon King. And he got it,” a sneer broke across Falcata’s features, “after it was melted down and poured down his throat. Apparently, letting the Nineteenth escape meant all deals were off.”

Firefly swallowed, looking a bit green, though inside he was fascinated. Historians had always wondered why in the world the Griffon King would kill Armanius after he had helped them kill so many Equestrians. Falcata’s testimony shed quite a bit of light on the matter.

Speaking of Falcata, she must have noticed his unhealthy pallor, because she began to splutter.

“Sorry! I forget modern ponies are so easily sickened… Well I didn’t, but I just thought you’d have a thicker stomach and you seemed so interested... Um...” Falcata averted her gaze. “Sorry.”

Firefly couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s fine. I really like reading about unicorn mages in history, and you’ve just answered a question I’ve had for a while.”

Coughing, Firefly straightened up in his seat. “Okay, next question: what unique skills and experiences can you bring to this position as a thunder-wrangler?”

Falcata flinched and bit her lip. Firefly resisted the temptation to sigh. He knew this question was a hard one, but he really wanted to learn more about the pegasus in front of him.

“Pardon me, but I am not quite sure how to answer this question.” Firefly blinked as Falcata looked down at the table with a small blush on her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, but it’s…” Falcata swallowed. “This is my first job interview.”

Oh… Well considering she was from a thousand years ago, he shouldn’t have been surprised. Smiling in what he hoped was an understanding fashion, Firefly explained.

“Basically, you tell me about something you did that will make me think that you will do well as a thunder wrangler.”

Her eyes widening, Falcata nodded, and her smile returned.

“Oh! Well, I’ve wrangled a cloud fort in a full thunderstorm.”

“A cloud fort?”

“A cloud shelter with a cumulonimbus outer shell that we pegasi used to hide ourselves from unicorns while we slept. They are, uhh… about as big as that colorful house with the rainbow waterfalls on the outskirts of this town.”

Firefly knew that house all too well. It was his boss’s home after all, and he had even been inside it once or twice to fetch her or make reports.

To think that the pegasus in front of him could wrangle a cloud structure of that size, made up of those bloody unstable cumulonimbus clouds in a thunderstorm...

Put simply, he was impressed.

“That’s great! How did you manage to do it?” Firefly asked while he grabbed his pen and notepad.

Falcata grinned. “Well, the trick is you have to create a break off the fort from the thunderstorm. By keeping it in a separate storm system, you can maneuver the clouds into position to make your fort.”

Firefly nodded, in both understanding and growing admiration. Falcata’s solution was the simplest, and in his opinion, the most effective given that situation. She definitely had a good grasp on cloud-formation techniques.

“Good, here’s another question. Have you ever had to solve a problem under pressure?”

Later that evening, Firefly sat in front of his desk, looking over the applications with tired eyes.

The interviews were all finished, and he had a good idea of whom he was going to choose.

But his choice didn’t sit right with him.

He was so engrossed that he didn’t even hear the door open and Rainbow Dash enter the office.

Dash froze as she looked up and saw her subordinate, eyes wide. “Hey, Firefly. What are you doing here so late at night?”

Firefly’s eyes remained fixed on the resumes and cover letters sprawled across his desk. “I’m thinking.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Of course, egghead, but what about?”

“About the applicants for the thunder-wrangler position,” replied Firefly, his eyes still focused on the carpet of paper.

Frowning, Rainbow looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “So you’re stuck between these two?” she asked, her hoof pointing to the top two resumes. One had the name Nimbus Wrestler written neatly across the top. The other resume had the name Falcata, scrawled in the top right corner of the paper, as if it had been added as an afterthought.

“Yes, this is Nimbus. He has professional training at Cloudsdale University and he’s wrangled clouds all his life in Vanhoover, which has its fair share of thunderstorms, as you know. Sure, he’s a bit past his prime, but his experience and skills make him an ideal match to take up this part-time position.”

“Alright, he seems like a good fit for this. So why won’t you just pick him?” asked Rainbow.

Firefly pointed at Falcata’s resume. “I want to give the job to her.” He reached across the desk and grabbed his notepad. He gave it to Rainbow, who began to flick through it while he continued.

“Falcata’s had a wild past. Like something out of a Daring Do adventure in fact, but it’s made her smart, decisive, and adaptable. These are qualities that are great to see in ponies, and are skills that I think will help the team. While she has no formal training, she has plenty of experience working with thunderclouds, and is good at making decisions under pressure. She’s not too proud to give up when needed, but also knows when to be stubborn.”

“Hmm, she seems qualified, less ” said Rainbow, not looking up from her subordinate’s notes. “And I can see why you like her. You’re into history after all, and she’s like a living museum exhibit.”

Rainbow suddenly frowned. “You are aware she has only three legs right?”

Firefly sighed. “I know, boss, but I still want her to get the job.”

Placing the notebook back on Firefly’s desk, Rainbow looked the stallion in the eye. “Firefly, thunder wrangling is a job for four legs. With only two front hooves you can’t get an accurate enough kick to make sure the clouds are set off right. Sure you can use your back legs to kick, but the lack of front hooves also makes shaping thunder clouds incredibly risky, and you can’t use your back legs to shape clouds as safely as you can with front legs.”

Standing up, Firefly took the notepad from Rainbow’s hooves and flipped to Falcata’s list of experiences. “I know that, but she has experience working in all kind of conditions. Look, she’s shaped thunderclouds in a full out storm!”

Rainbow’s eyes widened, and then narrowed as she scrutinized the notes. Grimacing, she put the notes down and exhaled slowly.

“But those times were before her accident.”

His head drooping towards the table, Firefly sagged into his seat. “I know.” Groaning, he turned to his boss. “What do I do, Rainbow? I want her for the job soo bad.”

Rainbow sighed and patted Firefly on the shoulder. “Talk to her, and explain why you couldn’t pick her. She doesn’t seem like a mare that would let something like this get her down forever.”

Nodding, Firefly straightened himself in his chair. “You’re right boss.” Suddenly, he winced.

“I just hope she isn’t going to hit me with that shortsword of hers before I can finish.’

“So did I get it?” asked Falcata, excitement clear in her voice as she sat down across from Firefly.

Firefly kept his face straight, hoping he could break the news gently. He had specially called Falcata over to talk to her and thus had some time to calm himself. However, Falcata was no fool. Her smile slowly faded as the silence dragged on, and her shoulders slumped.

“I didn’t get it.”

Firefly winced. “Sorry, Falcata, but–”

“‘Tis alright,” she said, but her saddened tone told Firefly otherwise.

Trying to smile, Firefly returned Falcata’s resume and cover letter to her. “There are other jobs and positions to try. If you want, I can give you some tips for your cover letter.”

Falcata took the stack of papers and straightened them before sliding them into her saddlebag.

“There is no need for that. I am just glad that you actually decided to meet me. You would not believe how many interviewers have cancelled my appointment at the last minute.” Falcata snorted as she closed the saddlebag. “One actually walked into the office, and immediately ran out screaming.” Throwing the saddlebag over her shoulder, Falcata got up and trotted to the door. “Have a good day, Firefly.”

Getting up, Firefly skirted around Falcata to block her from the door. “Falcata, I did want you to get the job, but...” He felt his voice trail off while his eyes shot to the ground.

“But why?” asked Falcata, giving him a sharp glare. “Why did you not pick me?”

Bracing himself, Firefly looked her straight in the eye. “Your leg.”

At those words, Falcata’s eyes widened and her face paled. Slowly, the three-legged pegasus sat her rump on the ground as Firefly continued.

“My boss and I liked you a lot, but thunder-wrangling is a job for two forehooves. It’s too dangerous with one. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Nodding, Falcata groaned and rubbed her head with her one leg. “Bloody hell. I should have remembered why my legatus got the vets and wounded to sit back when we built those forts.”

Firefly frowned. “Sorry, but what are vets?”

Fixing him with a bored look, Falcata sighed. “The vets are the most hardened of troops. Most of them were amputees, but it didn’t make them any less dangerous.”

Seizing upon that fact, Firefly leaned forward. “So… what happened to them when they retired?”

Falcata frowned. “Pardon?”

“Where did the amputees and veterans work after they retired?”

Falcata briefly pursed her lips in consideration. “The best veterans were mated with the best stallions and mares of Cloudsdale so that their seed might be passed on to breed a new generation of warriors.”

A part of Firefly died as he heard that.

“...What?”

Flinching, Falcata held her straight-faced expression for another split second before she burst out into gales of laughter, much to Firefly’s inner relief.

“You should have seen the look on thy face!” crowed Falcata, even as Firefly glared at her. He understood that she needed a laugh to cheer herself up, but by Equestria did he hate being on the butt end of a joke.

“Okay, you got me. Now what did those veterans really do after they served?” he asked again.

Falcata’s breath hitched in her throat as she stopped laughing, and frowned. “Most veterans were given positions in the reserves. Some were delegated to recruit and train ponies for the legions, and…” Falcata’s eyes widened. “The odd veteran was assigned to the legion’s museum, where all the legion’s battle honors and captured standards were stored, to teach foals about the history of the Equestrian army.”

Firefly grinned in triumph. “There, that’s the job that’s the perfect fit for you!”

Falcata nodded, a smile growing on her lips. “Thou art right, Firefly! I can teach foals and others about the history of the legions! I am the only survivor of them, after all. But…” Falcata winced as she pulled her resume from her bag and glanced at it. “I am not sure I can successfully apply for such a position.”

Firefly snorted. “You were pretty clear when you were answering my questions. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

The hopeful look Falcata gave Firefly turned his smile into a grin.

Deciding that Falcata needed some reassurance, Firefly’s eyebrows raised as he thought of a question that had always bugged him about the Equestrian Legions.

“Were the sleeping arrangements of the legions co-ed or segregated?”

Falcata blinked. “Pardon?”

“Uh... I mean, did stallions and mares sleep in the same area or were they kept separate?”

“Ah.” She blinked again, but answered him anyway with a small shake of her head. “Well, stallion and mare legionnaires were allowed to sleep together, provided they made no ruckus, and provided that a stallion did not get a mare pregnant while on campaign,” said Falcata matter-of-factly.

“And if a mare didget pregnant?” Firefly asked.

“She and the stallion got their pay suspended for the duration of her pregnancy.” As she finished her statement, Falcata blinked and looked at her hoof in a sudden realization. “By Equestria, I can do this.”

Grinning smugly, Firefly chuckled. “I told you.”

Nodding in agreement, Falcata put her resume away. “I know. But just in case…” She looked Firefly in the eye and grinned. “Ask me another question!”

“Gladly! Did female and male legionnaires have different roles…”

The End

Semifinals: Evergreen vs. Firefly - Winner: Firefly (by Default)

Author's Note

THE OFFICIAL CONTEST COMPENDIUM

Semifinals: Evergreen vs. Firefly - Winner: Firefly (by Default)

Due North - by Firefly's Author

– Firefly –

I lay on my belly in the dust, bleeding.

In the light of Luna’s full moon, the bloody splotches on my coat and bandages looked midnight black, as if chunks had been gouged from my body.

I snorted in amusement. I look like a changeling! Laughing hurt.

Evergreen and Falcata crouched protectively to either side of me as the timberwolves circled us in a slowly shrinking ring of dripping fangs and glowing eyes.

I wonder if they'll find enough left of us to bury.

The remote mountain lakeside had seemed like the ideal site for a few days’ rest.

I smiled. We’ll be resting all right. In pieces! And to think the day had started off so well...

– Firefly –

The lake was just as breathtaking as the brochure promised. Framed by the Caneighdian Rockies, its limpid surface flawlessly mirrored the pure cerulean sky and the thin wispy clouds of a perfect summer day.

“Ah, the air doth be full sweet in these northern climes!” said Falcata, stretching her golden-yellow wings.

My own orange wings were practically falling off after the long flight from Vanhoover. She looked askance as I knelt before a pile of twigs, and vigorous rubbed together two branches.

“Firefly! What in the name of Oatin’s fuzzy beard be thy purpose?”

“Starting a fire. Just like they taught us in Pegasus Scouts!”

She smirked and began unpacking. “Thou cans't ignite tinder so.”

“Well, I forgot the matches, there are no lightning clouds nearby, and you forbade me to use my Personal Spell Caster on vacation, so I’m doing this the old-fashioned way!”

She knelt beside me. “I ken a few old fashions m’self. E’en a thousand years afore, only a halfwit would fain quicken a fire by rubbing two green boughs!”

Oh. Yeah.

I sighed and raised an eyebrow. “Then pray tell, how did the fullwits do it, milady?”

“A lady knows naught of such things!” She winked saucily, extracting a flint and steel out of her saddlebag. It took two strikes to produce a spark setting the tinder alight. She leered at me as smoke wafted up from the flame. “Lucky us, for I be no lady!”

Falcata always gets a laugh out of making me blush.

Ignoring my discomfort, she began assembling the tents. By far the stronger flyer, she had carried both shelters in the over-sized duffel she called a campaign kit. From it she produced an impressive quantity of goods while I emptied my much smaller bag.

She was extracting some paperback books from her kit when she abruptly turned her head towards the northern sky.

A winged shape approached above the treetops. Moments later, a green pegasus mare wearing a red uniform and a brown hat, landed close by.

She saluted, then held out her hoof. “Good day! I’m Sergeant Evergreen of the Royal Equestrian Rangers. Welcome to Saddleback Range National Park!”

Falcata looked down at the proffered limb, then back up into the mare’s face. “Sergeant Falcata of her Royal Highness Princess Twilight’s Palace Guard.” She grasped the hoof firmly. The ranger’s eyes widened slightly. Muscles corded along both mares’ forelegs. Neither broke eye contact.

Before things became awkward, I raised my own hoof. “Firefly. We’ve received permission to camp here from the Park Authority.”

Evergreen looked at me. Reluctantly disengaging Falcata’s hoof, she shook mine perfunctorily. “So, what does a nice couple such as yourselves have planned for the week?”

“Har!” Falcata snorted. “The lad an’ I be comrades, but no special someponies we, as ye modern lot call it. And our plans be nopony’s business save our own!”

Evergreen raised an eyebrow. “My apologies for intruding. The note I received from the Park Authority was somewhat short on details.”

I stepped between the mares and smiled. “We have nothing specific planned. We just want to relax, go swimming, hiking, sunbath on nice fluffy clouds, you know, healthy stuff like that!”

“Aye,” added Falcata over my shoulder sarcastically. “It be a layabout’s dream here, far from worldly concerns. I do envy thee thy carefree posting in this isolated pasture, Sergeant!”

Road Apples!

Evergreen’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I wouldn’t call it carefree,” she said in a businesslike monotone. “I came here as soon as I spotted the smoke from your fire. A pack of timberwolves was seen in the area. I urge you to exercise caution. Always stay together, and above all take to the air the moment you spot anything unusual.”

Falcata’s frown deepened. “Sergeant Evergreen, these woods pose no threat to such a seasoned veteran as m’self.”

The ranger pursed her lips. “Of course, Sergeant. Well then, good day to you both.” Evergreen saluted and took off.

I waited until she was out of earshot. “Celestia, but that was awkward! Falcata, what’s gotten into you?”

She harrumphed. “Didst thou espy the fresh-pressed seams of that spotless uniform? That parade-ground poser had better keep her muzzle out of me business!” She trotted off towards the woods.

“Where are you going?” I called out. “The ranger said to stay together!”

“If there be timberwolves hereabouts, I needs must know the lay of the land. I will survey the area and return afore our mid-day meal.”

I felt uneasy as she flew off.

– Evergreen –

I was fuming when I landed on the balcony of my treetop cabin. Words came to mind, words I refuse to ever say when I’m wearing the uniform.

I placed my hat on its peg next to the door. Hanging my red serge next to it, I picked a few specks of dust off the symbol of my duty and authority. Only then did I allow myself to vent.

“Layabout!? Pasture!? Of all the arrogant, holier-than-thou, keep-your-muzzle-out-of-my-business, I-can-handle-myself-in-your-quaint-little-woods, military jar-heads!”

I stamped a hoof. And then another.

Catharsis achieved. Keep calm and carry-on!

Whenever I get frustrated I clean house. It clears my head.

I looked around my cabin for a target on which to focus my energies. My magazines were starting to pile up, so I decided to sort through them and go over the mail. I also went to the icebox, took out a sandwich I had prepared earlier, and made tea.

I finally relaxed as I sipped from the steaming cup. The letters and magazines lay fanned out on the table in front of me.

The mail was the RER Service Newsletter and a postcard from my uncle. I turned to the periodicals. One of my favorites – to my perpetual embarrassment – was Herd Weekly, trashy celebrity gossip at its insipid finest. I enjoyed the glossy pictures of celebrities and news of the endless juicy scandals in which the Canterlot elite engaged. Often, the magazine’s photos were the only pony faces I saw all week.

I was selecting back issues to trash when I spied the words Ponyville Confidential! in lurid pink. The issue was three months old. I didn’t recall reading it. At the time I had been investigating a group of crazy cultists in the woods. The magazine had several articles on the Friendship Rainbow Kingdom. When I finished reading my half-empty tea cup sat cold on the table.

Wow! Falcata isn’t some hoser, she’s a living relic! A photo showed Firefly and a cream colored unicorn in a tweed jacket accepting an award from Princess Celestia. Firefly is one of the co-inventors of the Personal Spell Caster! The widely popular devices let anypony do spell magic.

Wow! That guy is filthy rich!

Another photo showed Firefly next to a despondent looking light brown earth pony in a starched collar and tie.

Heh! He’s richer than Filthy Rich!

I sighed.

We finally have some actual celebs in the Park! Too bad one of them is so... uncool.

I finished tidying up and prepared for my afternoon patrol. My route would take me over the visitors’ campsite, so I could check in on them again. I understood their need for privacy, but I hadn’t been kidding about the timberwolves. Donning my uniform, I opened the door, spread my wings, and vaulted the balcony.

– Firefly –

I got nervous when, two hours past noon, Falcata still hadn’t returned. An hour later I decided to fly off in search of her. Just as I was about to take off, the ranger reappeared above the treeline. She landed, touching the brim of her hat in greeting.

“Hello, Mister Firefly.” Her smile faded the moment she saw my face. “Is there a problem?”

I nodded. “Falcata left to check out the area just before noon and she hasn’t returned since.”

The ranger’s eyes widened. “I believe I recommended that you stay together at all times.”

My ears folded back. “You did, it’s just that... Falcata’s kind of set in her ways.”

Evergreen hesitated a moment. “She’s the Pegasus Legionnaire that was turned stone by a cockatrice a thousand years ago, isn’t she?”

“You know about that?”

“We’re not as isolated here as you might think.” For some reason the ranger blushed. “But right now we need to focus on priorities, like finding Sergeant Falcata. Do you recall in which direction she went?”

I pondered a moment, then pointed towards some low hills. “I’m pretty sure it was that way.”

“Good. Give me an hour. If I’m not back by then I recommend you fly north by north-east. After about five miles out you’ll see a lone pine taller than all the others with a cabin near its summit. Go there and wait for rescue.”

I pawed the ground. “The only reason Falcata came here is because I asked her to. Am I supposed to just sit here on my flank when she could be hurt?”

The Sergeant flashed me a reassuring smile. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not have two lost campers to locate before nightfall! Please just stay here until my return within an hour and, failing that, fly straight to my cabin. In the meantime you could collect nearby wood and feed your fire. If Sergeant Falcata’s gotten lost the smoke column might guide her back to the campsite. Do you understand my instructions, Mister Firefly?”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“Good! I’ll be back soon with Sergeant Falcata. Don’t you worry!”

I waved as she took off in the direction in which Falcata had disappeared.

“It seems like all I can do is worry,” I complained to nopony.

She was back within thirty minutes, alone. My stomach was churning as she landed.

“So? Where is she?” I demanded.

“Mister Firefly, I’m afraid there’s been trouble.” She opened her saddlebag and extracted a bunch of golden-yellow pegasus flight feathers. The blood drained from my face.

“There were timberwolf tracks all over the area where I found these, but no blood. I doubt Sergeant Falcata could have flown with such wing damage. There were pony tracks leading away from the scene, but I lost the trail when it went into a stream. My guess is that your friend made it to the water and then followed the stream to throw the wolves off of her scent. She’s a smart mare, Mister Firefly.”

Evergreen hesitated. “Her tracks - her left foreleg is a prosthesis if I’m not mistaken.”

I swallowed. “Yes it is. Even with only three good legs, she’s still more dangerous than a manticore when she’s angry, but her attitude will only carry her so far against a pack of timberwolves. We have to find her before it’s too late!”

“We?” said Evergreen.

I nodded. “We already know she’s hurt. Can you fight off timberwolves while dragging around a wounded pony? You’ll need help.”

Evergreen chewed her lip.

“Okay.” She placed a hoof on my chest. “You can come along if you swear on your honor to obey without hesitation every single instruction I give you!” Our gazes locked.

“I do,” I said, swallowing.

She smiled crookedly. “Then welcome to the Royal Equestrian Rangers auxiliary, deputy Firefly!”

I looked at her, nonplussed. “Do I have to salute?”

“No. Just obey. You’ve got one minute to get ready. Then we go find your friend before the wolves do.”

“Yes, Sergeant Evergreen!” I saluted anyway, and galloped off to get my saddlebag.

– Evergreen –

I eyed the civilian I had reluctantly deputized.

He was right, I really didn’t have a choice. Nevertheless, the added responsibility left me feeling uneasy.

We flew a course that followed the stream. After a few minutes I swooped down to the water’s edge. “This is where she entered the stream. I’ve followed its course down to the lake already. Now we go upstream.”

Firefly touched ground. “Why aren’t we following the stream from the air?”

“The canopy thickens considerably upstream and I don’t want to risk missing the signs of Sergeant Falcata’s exit from the water. So we’re going to slog up the stream on hoof, at least for a while.”

I entered the water and moved forward at a steady pace, carefully scanning the banks to each side.

Firefly splashed close behind. “You know, something’s been bothering me. Why would Falcata go upstream? She should know going downstream would lead her back to the lake and to the campsite.”

I plodded onwards.

Splish, splosh, splish, splosh.

“She would if she was trying to lead the pack away from your campsite.”

Firefly stumbled and caught himself. “Yeah,” he said shakily. “That sounds like something she would do.”

Splish, splosh, splish, splosh.

“So tell me, Mister Firefly, do you have any idea why Sergeant Falcata reacted so negatively towards me earlier?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “She kind-of considers modern guardponies to be pushovers.”

I had no response to that. It explained things, but I still felt a bit miffed.

Splish, splosh, splish, splosh.

“Sergeant. Why did you take this post? I mean, these woods are really very pretty, but it certainly is remote here.”

I chuckled. “The beauty is part of it, certainly, but it’s not the only reason. And the remoteness doesn’t bother me in the least!”

“Why not? You’re as much a creature of the herd as the rest of us.”

Have you been talking to my mother? I sighed. “Sometimes I do miss having other ponies around. But on most days...” I wondered if he would understand.

Splish, splosh, splish, splosh.

“On most days what?”

“On most days I’m not alone, I’m living North.”

“North? Sounds like a direction, not a lifestyle.”

I laughed. “Trust me. It’s not about which way a compass needle points.”

“Then what is it?”

Splish, splosh, splish, splosh.

I chewed my lip. “North is... waking up with the sun. North is walking through the woods and hearing every leaf that falls, and every blade of grass that whispers in the breeze. Knowing every bird, and squirrel, and beaver and bear. Living a whole day without having said a word but having had a thousand conversations. North is getting to know the silence and what it has to tell you.”

Splish, splosh, splish, splosh.

“What about you, Mister Firefly? Why did you and Sergeant Falcata come here?”

“I can’t rightly speak for Falcata. She never told me why she agreed to come. Maybe she thought an egghead like me wouldn’t last ten minutes in the wilderness without her.” He chuckled. “As to me...”

Splish, splosh, splish, splosh.

“I came to escape, I guess.”

“And what’s chasing a wealthy, eminently eligible bachelor such as yourself?”

He sighed loudly. “All of it! I used to be just an odd pegasus with strange notions about magical devices. Now I'm the co-inventor of the Personal Spell Caster and everypony and her sister wants a chunk of my time, a portion of my fortune, or a piece of my hide.” He snorted. “Everything and everypony has changed, and it seems like all my silent moments have moved out of town!”

“Still, you’ve invented a device that’s changing the face of Equestria, though I admit I don’t use one - no local unicorn around to recharge it!”

Splish, splosh, splish, splosh.

“Hmm. Falcata isn’t interested either. Although she admits to using my PSC once in a while.”

Falcata uses a PSC? That stiff... Ahem. In uniform.

“She does? What for?”

“She says she uses it to remotely cut up onions and then fry them in a skillet. She gets really embarrassed if anypony thinks she’s been crying!”

Splish...

I froze. Behind me, Firefly splashed to a stop.

I pointed out claw marks on a stump fallen next to the stream and raised a hoof to my lips.

“Timberwolves!” I whispered.

– Firefly –

Evergreen motioned for me to follow her out of the stream-bed, moving through the underbrush along the bank quiet as a shadow. I tried my best to match her step for step, but still ended up making as much noise as a marching band. We had progressed like this for half an hour when she crouched down and motioned for me to do the same. Peering through the bushes, we saw that we had reached the lee of the forest, where it gave way to gently rolling fields. Multiple trails of bent grass showed where several individuals had emerged.

We took to the air and flew several ponylengths above the fields, covering ground much more quickly. I appreciated the faster progress. Every minute we hadn’t found Falcata added to my dread. We finally saw figures ahead, just before the scrub gave way to trees again. A lone yellow-colored speck stood surrounded by three menacing forms.

“FALCATA!” I shouted, surging forward.

“Stay in the air!” ordered the ranger as she dove to assist Falcata. I hesitated, and then began circling the scene.

A great weight lift from my heart. Falcata was alive!

– Evergreen –

It took me a moment to make out her words. Her angry expression made her feelings abundantly clear.

“Fie and fie again! Thou unmuzzled, addle-pated jolt-head! Wherefore didst thou bring the scholar hither?”

She balanced on her forelegs and bucked back an attacking timberwolf behind her.

“Halfwit! Fumblehoof!”

She spun to repel another wolf who had lunged at her.

“Flee!” she shouted. “Arise! Get thee hence, whilst thee still can!”

Even a ranger has limits to her patience. I glided in to snatch the ungrateful mare from behind and lift her away.

“Get ready for a pick up, Sergeant!” I shouted.

“Neigh, you foal!” I saw her anger turn to fear just as I glided in. There was the smell of wolf, then both my wings were engulfed in blazing agony. I fell, somehow managing to end up on all fours.

Turning my head over my back I saw huge gaps in my wing feathers.

I suppose any pegasus in that situation has a right to scream her loss and feel no shame in doing so. Instead, a feeling of calm and crystal clarity descended upon me. There would be time to be a pegasus, later. But now? Now, I had a duty. Now, I was in uniform. Now, there was justice to be done. And justice would not be denied. Not on my watch!

I turned to face opposite Falcata. Folding back my wings was torture, but necessary to make full use of ground fighting techniques.

“Sergeant Falcata, it appears we’re going to have to fight our way out of this mess,” I said.

Falcata pawed the ground. “Aye. Sergeant, thou hast more spleen that I had account'd in thee, if even less wit!”

Touché!

“I’ve never heard of timberwolves attacking pegasi’ wings before,” I remarked. “However, that does not excuse my ignoring your sound advice. My apologies, Sergeant.”

Falcata glanced in my direction, first looking surprised then barking a laugh. “I blithely preceded thee into the trap! I would be a knave to besmirch thee overmuch for doing the same!” Her expression relaxed. “I have much experience with timberwolves. Usually one dispatches the alpha and the pack disperses. However, this pack be more than passing strange, for I have yet to spy its alpha.”

A strange voice called from the lee of the forest. “Hello little ponies. Gordo is alpha now.”

A dark shape rose on two legs and approached through the grasses. Ragged ears, ragged clothing, and ragged tail. A diamond dog!

“Old timberwolf die and Gordo take his place. Gordo teach timberwolf new trick. Gordo has many tricks!” He smiled and raised a loaded crossbow, pointing the business end at Falcata.

“Pony can also tell pony in the sky come down, or pony on ground become pincushion. Yes?”

– Firefly –

As I circled I saw the diamond dog emerge from the woods, followed by some twenty timberwolves.

“Flee, Firefly! We two will teach this flea-bitten cur some manners!” shouted Falcata.

“She’s right, Firefly,” called Evergreen. “Go to my cabin!”

The dog growled. “Gordo count to three. If pony in sky not on ground before finished, pony on ground finished!” He laughed as if this was a particularly clever joke.

“One!”

“Heed me, Firefly! Or I shall bat thy ears bloody when I catch thee!” Falcata took one step towards the dog.

“Gordo not like pony attitude. Pack eats this one first for supper... Two!”

Belatedly, I let myself drop towards the ground. Too high! You won’t make it in time to save her!

“Three!” called the diamond dog.

Everything happened in slow motion.

Falcata rushed the diamond dog, with Evergreen close behind.

I hit the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of my lungs, legs and wings splayed wide.

Falcata raised her prosthetic left foreleg just as the crossbow bucked in the dog’s arms. The bolt skewered her leg, with half of its shaft protruding on either side.

Evergreen reached the diamond dog as he was reloading. Rearing, she dealt the crossbow a massive strike with both forehooves. Pieces of the weapon flew in every direction.

Falcata tripped as the mechanism in her prosthetic leg seized. Looking up, she screamed my name.

I felt both my wings and part of my soul rip as timberwolves tore at my feathers with tooth and claw. When they bit down on my other limbs I screamed.

– Evergreen –

Seeing Falcata struggling to rise, I abandoned the dog, rushing to defend Firefly.

I caught one of the timberwolves by surprise, bucking wildly. It would take it a while to reassemble itself. Another backed into Falcata, who similarly dispatched it. The third was nowhere to be seen, along with all the others. Falcata and I exchanged glances.

“Help Firefly. I’ll keep watch.” She sank to her haunches and began extricating the crossbow bolt from her leg.

The setting sun cast long shadows all around us.

“Firefly, can you hear me?”

He nodded.

I got out the first aid kits from both our saddlebags. “I’ll patch you up as well as I can.”

“I… I really screwed up, didn’t I?” he asked.

“Actually, you may have saved our lives! Your distraction enabled us to disarm the diamond dog. If he hadn’t been concerned about getting you to land he could just have shot us both from a safe distance.”

“Listen to the sergeant,” said Falcata as she trotted up, her prosthetic functioning. “This sly melting away of the pack disturbs me greatly. What thinkest thou be their intent?”

Good question. “They followed the alpha. And I don’t think that diamond dog will risk returning without his crossbow.”

Firefly snorted. “Let’s hope he had just the one!”

“Indeed!” agreed Falcata.

As the sun was setting, the third of our attackers reemerged from the woods, the pack slinking behind him. It was easy to read what had happened in his swagger, an alpha’s swagger. The blood on his muzzle confirmed it.

Poor Gordo ran out of tricks!

As the moon rose, the wolves formed a circle around us. Teeth and claws flashed silver in the pale moonlight.

Falcata and I assumed guard positions around Firefly, and waited for the attack.

– Firefly –

We’ll be resting all right. In pieces. And to think the day had started off so well...

The pack closed in on us with huffing breaths and clacking jaws. The mares had been incredible, but they were on their last legs. It was just a matter of time now.

Tremors ran up and down my spine as I pulled open my saddlebag with bleeding lips. I extracted the large medallion that was my Personal Spell Caster. Even this small effort nearly made me black out.

The alpha timberwolf pushed through the ring.

I activated the PSC, hoping it had enough charge. I only had it in me to try this once. Focusing on the amulet, I envisioned the spell that would turn my will into reality, an act of spellcasting that I, though a pegasus born, believed was my destiny.

Light poured from my eyes. The alpha timberwolf’s muzzle lit up... and then flared out, leaving it with a beard of smoking embers.

Oh, yeah. Green boughs don’t burn easily.

That’s when Evergreen moved. In a blur of motion, she stepped up to the timberwolf while pulling a bottle from her saddlebag. She splashed its contents onto the still smouldering beast. It howled in indignation, and then burst into bright blue flame.

Alcohol!

The alpha collapsed into a burning pile of tinder. The remaining timberwolves pulled back in confusion. Leaderless, they fled howling into the woods.

At that point, I passed out.

– Evergreen –

Falcata and I did a lot of talking on the walk home, sharing the burden of carrying Firefly. The walk up those stairs to my cabin had never felt so long before. Probably because I always just flew up.

Falcata was turning into a real friend. She even liked the extra-hard local cider.

Firefly awoke the next evening. His first words were: “I guess it worked. Good thinking!”

Falcata snorted. “Aye! Else we’d be stinking piles of timberwolf dung ‘ere now!”

“Uh, you two getting along?”

Our gazes locked.

“As thick as thieves, begging your pardon, Sergeant!” replied Falcata, nodding in my direction.

I smiled. “Mister Firefly, would you like a sip of cider?”

He nodded.

“Careful though, it’s a bit stronger than what you’re used to down south.”

Falcata’s eye twinkled. “Indeed. This Caneighdian cider be akin to that quaffed by ponies in mine own younger days.” She chuckled. “Compared to it, the standard Equestrian brew be like... fighting in a canoe.”

“Really? How so?” asked Firefly.

“Because it’s bucking close to water!”

Falcata was right. Making Firefly blush was fun!

Finals: Mango Leaf vs. Firefly - Winner: Mango Leaf (by Vote)

Author's Note

THE OFFICIAL CONTEST COMPENDIUM

Finals: Mango Leaf vs. Firefly - Winner: Mango Leaf (by Vote)

Mango vs. Firefly - by Mango Leaf's Author

"Shouldn't you be in Canterlot, Mango?"

Mango Leaf looked from the map to Bon Bon, then back to the map. "Well, you know I needed—"

"I've known your order for three months now," she interrupted. "I got it along with my invitation to the wedding. It's in one month, Mango! You shouldn't be wandering around again, much less going into the Everfree! You're having a kid!"

"I know, I know!" Mango grumbled. "But legend has it that this place has an ingredient that can make just about anything change! Imagine if I could get it and find out how to make it change flavors an—"

"Look, you have everything you need. Go home to Gillette."

"One more ingredient, Bon Bon," Mango muttered. "Just one more and I'm done."

"Sure. Just like the four before this one. How was Vanhoover?"

"I mean it this time!"

"Sure you do, now get out." Bon Bon made shooing noises with her hooves. "Go home, Mango."

"Alright, alright," Mango grumbled, rolling up the map and putting it in his saddlebag. "I guess I'll see you in a month?"

Bon Bon smiled. "You can bet on it!"

Waving a hoof, Mango stepped out of Bonnie's Chocolates and Candies and into Ponyville, letting the door close behind him.He shook his head and started walking to the edge of town, in the direction of the Everfree.

"Wait!"

Mango stopped and turned around, watching one of the customers from Bonnies—a thin, red-coated, pegasus with some golden bug as a cutie mark—step out and trot towards him. "Um, yeah? Can I help you?"

"Yes... yes, I do apologize for running up to you like this, but I could not help but overhear your conversation with the chocolatier—"

"Bon Bon."

"Yes, her, well I heard what you were discussing. An ingredient that can change anything?" the pegasus asked, then blinked. "Oh, I am so very sorry, Firefly at your service. I'm usually more reserved and the abruptness of our meeting did have quite an effect on my manners."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Mango said, waving it off with a hoof before extending it. "The name's Mango Leaf, and I'm—"

"A frozen yogurt maker and vendor, yes," Firefly interrupted. "I remember you won the competition for best dessert a year ago with your most magnificent magical frozen strawberry creation. Doubtless, it wouldn't have been possible to do without magic, correct?"

Mango rubbed the back of his head. "Possibly... but if Derpy and Bon Bon hadn't helped me, I don't think my magic alone would have managed to—"

"Yes, quite." Firefly interrupted once more. "Unicorn magic allows the most amazing results that would otherwise would be impossible for earth ponies or pegasi to achieve."

"But I was about to say—"

"Now, imagine if a pegasus could cast unicorn spells. Or an earth pony. Wouldn't you say that it would make all our lives easier? Why buck trees when you can cast a spell to remove the apples? Much more effective! Why buck clouds when you can summon the elements to do it for you?"

"Because... it's... how things... work?" Mango said slowly, taking a step back. "Everypony can do what the others can if they put their minds to it. They just do it in different ways. You don't need magic to solve everything."

Firefly gave him a look. "Well, perhaps it's too much to ask for somepony who has always used magic to do things for them just how convenient it would be for others."

"I'll have you know that I don't use magic fo—"

"Which brings me to the reason I'm here right now." Firefly looked around before leaning a bit towards Mango. "If this secret ingredient of you exists... perhaps it is the missing element in a project of mine... I call it, the Thaumalogical Reading and Utilitarian Laum and Yield Sensing Tactical Unified Pendant of Indispensable Dweomers."

"That's long." Mango glanced to the side. Maybe he could run away? "You should work on shortening it."

"Yes, the acronym is on the works," Firefly said, clearing his throat. "As it is, I volunteer to join your expedition to the Everfree to secure this elusive ingredient."

Mango stopped and looked at the pegasus. "And why should I take you instead of somepony else?"

"I have been to the Everfree on several occasions, and my weatherpony job makes me ideal to help you plan in the eventuality of unexpected weather, as well as being able to fly and seek assistance if needed. Why, I even work closely with Rai—"

"Alright, alright, you can come," Mango said, putting his hoof on Firefly's mouth. "I'll be heading there now, though, are you okay with that?"

Firefly looked up and around, satisfied that apparently he hadn't been spotted, he quickly nodded to Mango. "Do we need to do research? The Prince—"

"Nah," Mango levitated a scroll out of his bags. "I got a map! Come on, less showing off you know important ponies and more walking!"

"..and that's how I got my scars. Rainbow Dash forbid me to ever attempt that again."

Mango nodded in understanding. "I assume you decided to give up on your bramble-diving after that third..."

"Fifth."

"Fifth attempt. Yes." Mango shook his head. "Look, I guess I can see you trying to impress your boss by doing something 'daring', but it sounds to me like you just need to, you know, do your job and she'll probably like you better."

Firefly muttered something before glancing at the floating parchment. "Well, whatever. Where are we right now?"

"If your directions earlier were correct, I think we're about a mile or two away from where the entrance to the temple is supposed to be."

The pair walked in silence for a while, keeping eyes open and ears perked. Although the alleged entrance to the temple wasn't too deep into the woods, both were well aware of the several dangerous creatures that inhabited the forest.

They were lucky however, and they finally made it to a small vine-wrapped shrine in the middle of a glade.

"Huh." Mango walked around it, peeking curiously at it. "When I was told 'temple' I imagined something bigger."

Firefly looked from the map to the sky then to the map again. "Unless we missed something somewhere on our we should be in the right location."

Mango nodded and placed a hoof on the shrine. "I wonder if we push it..."

"No! What did you do?" Firefly gasped. "Did you check if it was magical before you did that?"

Mango blinked. "Um. No. Should I?" He took his hoof off the shrine, noticing that it was starting to glow. "Oh. I guess I should've."

The shrine flashed and everything went dark.

Mango shook his head and slowly stood up. He wasn't standing on the soft earth of the Everfree anymore, however. He took in the ornate walls and floors and strange, blue light emanating from crystals on the domed ceiling above.

"It's seems we found it!"

A groan next to him drew his attention down to Firefly, who was slowly regaining consciousness. But that wasn't the only thing that caught his attention. He felt something tug at his shoulders and grimaced, already preparing for the worse. He looked over his shoulders.

"W-what happened?" Firefly asked and began to push up when Mango bowled him over. "What the hay?!" he shouted, pushing Mango away and glaring up at him. "What's your problem?"

"Firefly! Something terrible has happened!" Mango cried, orange wings flaring on his back.

"Mango?" Firefly gasped. "Are you a princess?!"

"What?! NO! I have wings! No horn! You have horn! No wings!"

"I have a horn?" Firefly gasped, touching it with his hoof. "Amazing! This is amazing, Mango! It means that whatever is in the temple can change things!"

"Well, no offense, but I was rather fond of being a unicorn!" Mango grumbled, fluffing his wings. "Hm. At least now I'll be able to join Gillette for flights."

"I'm fairly certain that the effects we are experiencing are temporary," Firefly said calmly, pushing Mango away and standing up. "It stands to reason that if the temple can do this, we can turn back upon leaving. However, this is a great chance for me to prove to a unicorn that using magic is much more effective than doing things by hoof, like pegasi and earth ponies do!"

"Again with this?" Mango huffed. "I keep telling you, we don't do everything with magic!"

"Are you telling me you don't use magic on your froyo?" Firefly smirked.

"To keep it cool, yes, or maybe to play around with temperatures, but I make the froyo by hoof. You can't make yogurt instantly with magic! It tastes horrible!"

"We'll see." Firefly started walking further into the temple. "My studies in magic have taught me the basics of how unicorn magic works. Just wait and see. You'll be wishing for your magic in no time."

The temple wasn't too big, but it was old enough for geography to have changed. As soon as they stepped out of the small hallway where they had appeared, the place opened up into a large cavern containing half the temple on their side, and the other half on the other, separated by a cliff and a waterfall. Several vines and plants grew all over the place, and the remains of a stone bridge were scattered at the bottom of the ravine. Faint clouds of vapor hung relatively close to them, and Mango wondered if he would be able to touch them now that he was a pegasus.

"Well," Firefly smirked. "This should be a problem. I'll just teleport to the other side."

Mango's eyes went wide. "No! Don't!"

But Firefly had already gathered magic and his new horn shone with golden energy. His eyes focused on the other side of the room, and suddenly, with a Bang! he fell to the floor, smoke spiraling off of his coat.

"But—" Firefly coughed a small amount of smoke. "Why?" he wheezed.

Mango checked him over. "Every unicorn knows the theory behind teleportation, but very few have the power to do it! You're lucky you didn't end up worse than this!"

Firefly glared at him from the floor. "Well then, Mr Unicorn, how are we going to cross without magic? You don't know how to fly."

Mango hummed to himself. "Well... we could climb..." He gazed at the walls, before brightening. "I think I have an idea! Can pegasi push clouds so thin together?" he asked Firefly, pointing at the faint vapors he had noticed earlier.

Firefly gave them a disdainful look. "I suppose. But you wouldn't be able to do much, they're not too stable."

"Well, I want to try something, but if you want to help, I could use a vine or two," Mango replied, pointing at the vines growing around them.

Firefly rolled his eyes, but pushed himself up to his hooves and concentrated, using his magic to tug at a bunch of vines. "I can't! It's too hard!"

"Relax!" Mango said, "You're just trying to do too much at once, you're still a beginner. Try with one vine first. It might even be enough."

Firefly released his magical hold and was about to reply, but Mango had already walked up to the edge and found—to his delight—that he could touch the clouds now. With a grin, he started pushing it closer together gathering as much as he could to make a cloud big enough for him to hop on. Then, with a nervous look down, he jumped on top of it.

"Well, congratulations," Firefly muttered. "You made a little cloud cushion. For all the good it will do us."

"I don't see the vine."

Firefly grunted and after some tugging managed to loosen up an end with his magic. "I... I can't." He gasped, sweat rolling down his forehead. "It's only one vine!"

"Hey, calm down, you just tried to teleport, for Celestia's sake!" Mango replied, bending down to pick up the loose end of the vine. Holding it with his mouth, he pulled and pulled again until the vine finally ripped off of the wall.

"Wishing you had you magic back there?" Firefly asked.

"Nah, that vine was stuck there. If I had tried ripping it out with magic I would be exhausted by now!"

He proceeded to tie the vine around himself, then the other end around Firefly.

"What are you trying to do?" Firefly asked warily.

"This!" Mango laughed, jumping onto his cloud and then, holding it tight with all four of his legs and hooves, like a giant pillow, he started beating his wings as fast as he could.

"H-hold on!" Firefly shouted, but it was too late. The pair shot from the edge, and he found himself holding on to dear life to the vine wrapped around him. He watched in half-terrified, half-frustrated stupor as they slowly made their way over the cliff, until they were close enough to the other side for Mango to swing him onto the road.

Grinning, Mango stood up on his cloud and jumped onto the floor.

"How did you even think that would work?!" Firefly shouted, frantically trying to undo the knot with magic before giving up and using his hooves and teeth. "For all you knew we could have died!"

Mango untied himself as well and grinned. "Nah, my fiancée told me about this trick when we met in Haywaii. She offered to do it, but I was too much of a wimp to try then."

"It's not fair! Why is it that you can just do what you want even when you're not using your magic and I can't do anything?" Firefly snapped, pushing Mango against the wall and glaring at him. "I studied this for years! I know the inside out of how magic works! Why can't I use it to do what I need to do?!"

Mango rubbed his shoulder. "I don't know, okay? I'm doing things as I usually do anyway! That's probably why. I'm not trying to be a pegasus!"

"But that's just it! Why don't you use your magic for it! It makes everything easier!" Firefly cried, getting uncomfortably close to Mango once more.

Mango slammed his hoof down and smacked him away with a wing. "Because that's not how things are! Just because unicorns can use magic doesn't mean we do everything with it! We're taught not to rely completely on it! What did you think it was like? We just want stuff to happen and it happens?"

"There's no point in doing things with your hooves or brute strength if you can do it with magic! That's why I'm inventing something to be able to use magic even if I'm not a unicorn!"

"Well, I hate to break it to you but there's no point in doing things with magic that you can do with your hooves just fine!" Mango snapped. "I make my froyo by hoof, and it's the best froyo in the market! Why should I start doing it with magic just to make it simpler? It's what I love to do!"

"Magic will help you do it better!"

"Really?" Mango asked, venom dripping from his voice. "So far you've proven that your studies in magic amount to theory. And you've been wasting so much time on this, that your actual skills—the ones that you use for your job—are not to par with anypony else! You even admitted that you're the worst flyer out there! You're so convinced that magic will save your sorry life that you've ignored every other advantage that you had!"

Firefly recoiled as if slapped.

"You whined all the way from Ponyville to the temple about how "Rainbow Dash said I couldn't do this right. Or that. Or that I was wasting everypony's time on work hours." Rainbow this. Rainbow that. For what? Just so you can make something that helps you pretend to be a unicorn? Where's your pride at being a pegasus? How many earth ponies and unicorns do you think wish they could have wings like yours? Huh? How many times do you think I've looked at my fiancée flying into the air and wished I could be there with her on the same level?"

"But Princess Twi—"

"No unicorn out there is Princess Twilight Sparkle! Get over it! She's basically made of magic! It doesn't work for everypony the same way! You don't love magic, you want to turn it into a commodity!"

"I do not! I just think that magic will do things easier for everypony!"

"Magic is not about making things easier!" Mango retorted. "Magic helps on certain things, but it's no replacement to an earth pony for their strength or ability to grow things. A dear friend of mine uses her magic while growing plants. You know why? To create beautiful things that couldn't be created otherwise!" He poked Firefly in the chest. "But she doesn't use magic to grow all of them. She doesn't use magic to make sure they're strong and healthy. She uses her hooves and her understanding of plants to achieve that. She would never go for the easy way and if you took her magic away, she would still do what she loves!"

"That's just one unicorn! You can—"

"My fiancée's best friend, Rachis, created spells to help preen pegasi wings! He didn't do it for himself, or because he's too lazy to do it by hoof! I've seen him do it, it takes hours of careful casting and hoofwork to do what he does."

"Well! What about earth ponies?" Firefly countered.

"Ever met the Apples?" Mango muttered. "Or I could introduce you to my army buddy Haystacks. Tell him that you want to use magic to do his job so that he can lazy about his farm. He won't be very loud, but he will be laughing while he escorts you out, and so will any self-respecting farmer! In fact," Mango growled, "why don't you ask your boss, Rainbow Dash, if she thinks it's fair for anypony to store a spell in that machine of yours and make them as fast or faster as she is without any effort or training?"

Mango shouldered past the cringing pegasus-turned-unicorn. "What you want to do is spit in the face of everypony that has put effort into what they love to do with that philosophy of yours."

Mango saw a large, double door at the end of the hallway, and headed straight there. He had almost made it to the door that must likely contained the magical ingredient when he heard the Firefly's voice behind him. "Well, what about you, Mr. high and mighty Mango Leaf?"

"What about me? I told you I don't use magic for making froyo."

"I mean your philosophy of running away," Firefly whispered bitterly. "Here you are, ranting at my dreams while you waste the dreams and time of others as well."

Mango's hoof hovered on the surface of the door, but he didn't touch it. "What do you mean?"

"The fact that you're here instead of back home, like Bon Bon told you?" Firefly asked. "I heard your conversation. This is not the time to be around treasure-hunting. And it's not the first time you've done this. From what I heard you spend as much time away from your fiancée as you can!"

"Shut up, I love Gillette!" Mango snarled, whirling around. "I just want this wedding to be the best! I need the best ingredients to do so!"

"So you risk life and limb for it?" Firefly snorted. "What's missing for your wedding? Flowers? Venue? Catering? Or the groom?"

Mango ground his teeth, glaring at Firefly. "I'm not running away!"

"Then why are you here?" Firefly asked, looking up at Mango straight in the eye. "Look at me and tell me with a straight face that the need for some stupid dessert is more valuable than you being with your fiancée. Or that she would understand you dying in the Everfree Forest for a spice for your wedding. Come on. Tell me!"

Mango opened his mouth and closed it several times, but didn't speak up. Finally he turned around to face the door. "I don't need to explain myself to you."

"Oh no," Firefly galloped up and elbowed Mango away from the door. "You don't get to stomp on me and walk away when I throw truth right back at you!"

"Step away from the door." Mango hissed.

"Say it to my face," Firefly said, standing in place. "Tell me that you running around is more important than your fiancée and your foal."

Mango Leaf seemed like he was about to tackle Firefly but after a moment of looking straight into the eyes of the other pony, he looked away. "She's more important." He sighed and rubbed his face with a hoof. "I just don't want my free life to... change," his eyes widened and he looked up at the door. He swayed in place before falling down on his haunches. "Oh Celestia," he looked up at Firefly. "I'm just like you. I'm in denial."

"I'm not in denial!"

Mango shook his head and stood up, stumbling away from Firefly. "Whatever. You know what, you can have it."

Firefly shuffled closer to the door, almost protectively. "Why? Where are you going?"

Mango hesitated. "Home. You're right. I shouldn't be here. I'm done."

He walked away from Firefly, his last glance at the other pony revealing that he had sat down and was simply staring at the door, deciding what to do.

Just as Mango left the room, the world seemed to brighten around him, and Mango found himself standing on the edge of the Everfree. Looking over his shoulders, he realized his wings were gone. He touched his hoof to his horn and sighed. He looked around but there was no sign of Firefly.

Shaking his head, Mango started walking down to Ponyville. He needed to get his wagon and get going.

Gillette frowned as she compared one decoration to another, then another. Although she had taken it upon herself to decide the color scheme for the reception, it was still a lot of things to take into account.

Her ears twitched when she heard the front door open. "Mango?" she asked in surprise when he walked in. "What are you doing here? I thought you had important business in Ponyville?"

Mango sat next to her and leaned on her shoulder, nuzzling her neck and making her giggle. "I'm all done. I think I'll be staying here with you for the rest of the month, so we can finish all the last details in time." He looked over at the table. "What are you working on?"

"The decorations," Gillette replied. "And seating arrangements." She smiled and nuzzled him. "I'm glad you're back, I don't know where to seat all of your friends! And we need to make sure our parents are in the main table with us..."

Mango chuckled. "Well, to begin with, we should make sure Lilligold and Haystacks seat next to each other..."

Gillette smiled and brushed his mane with her hoof. "Mango?"

"Mhm?"

"What happened in Ponyville? Why are you really back?"

Mango sighed and looked out the window. "Somepony finally made me realize that there were some things I needed to change to make sure we were happy."

Gillette raised an eyebrow. "So this pony is seating at the main table?"

Mango chuckled. "I'm not sure if I would count him as a friend but... he has a lot to think about before deciding if he should go to a wedding."

"Think about what?"

"Whether to open that door or not."

The End

A Contest of Wills - by Firefly's Author

Mango Leaf trotted into Stinking Rich Memorial Park, pushing his cart ahead of him with magic. He paused and chuckled. Every time he passed under the commemorative gate, the same thought came to mind: Anypony who names their kid Stinking needs to have their head examined!

He had arrived just yesterday in the Friendship Rainbow Kingdom – another moniker for the ages! – and immediately experienced great satisfaction selling Fro-yo in the very same park. As in previous visits to Ponyville – a thoroughly sensible name for a hamlet full of ponies – he had parked his wagon near where the library tree used to be, before the scuffle with Tirek had destroyed it. This time, however, he had expanded his sales options: he had purchased a new magically insulated push cart that allowed him to sell Fro-yo where his wagon couldn’t go, such as within the confines of many parks and even indoors. It had turned out to be a great investment, demonstrated by the day’s excellent sales!

This afternoon, he wandered in a different direction than on the previous day, looking for new souls to bless with his frozen good humor. A turn around some tall hedges brought him to a small lake lined with willow trees. They provided welcome shade for several stone benches from which ponies could observe as ducks, geese, and swans engaged in their own culinary pursuits.

At the shallow edge of the lake, two small foals played with toy boats under the kindly supervision of a frizzy red-maned filly in her early teens. A lone orange-coated pegasus with a fiery-red mane sat on the middle bench, head down, as if completely oblivious to the picture-postcard prettiness around him.

Ah-hah! A pony in dire need of Fro-yo if I ever saw one!

Mango approached, already smiling in anticipation of that wonderful moment when the stallion’s eyes would light up with that first magical taste.

“Hello sir!” he called out, “You look like a pony in need of an epicurean epiphany!”

The stallion looked up at him in confusion then concern. “What? Cure? An epipen?” He rose up from the bench and stood teetering on his hind legs, his right hoof touching a large amulet hung from a silver cord around his neck, his left clutching a rolled-up scroll. “Are you having an allergic reaction?”

“No! No! Certainly not!” Mango laughed and waved a hoof in a pacifying gesture. “I meant, you look like you could stand some Fro-yo felicity!”

The stallion looked at him as if he was from another planet.

“Fro-yo!” Mango repeated. “It’s a dessert made from –”

“– frozen yoghurt. I know.” The pegasus slowly sat down. His cutie mark seemed to be some insect with a glowing posterior. A firefly. “No thanks,” said the pony. His head dropped down as he resumed the same introspective posture as when Mango had first arrived.

Mango's lips compressed. Oh-ho! A challenge! His smile came back even wider.

“Fro-yo is not just frozen yogurt! It’s a delightful concoction that can also include fruit, chocolate, candies, special essences, spices, even certain vegetables. Why, the possibilities are endless! Now, I’m sure I could prepare a Fro-yo cup that would simply change your life for the better. I guarantee it!”

The pegasus flicked an ear. “No, thanks.”

“Sir? Have you ever tried Fro-yo before?”

The pegasus chewed his lip for a moment.

“Nope! And I don't intend to.”

Mango felt one of his ears fold back. “As I take your reticence for a challenge, I offer you, sir, your very first Fro-yo cup absolutely free!”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Really, I insist!”

“Really, you shouldn’t.”

“And why shouldn’t I?”

“Because I still won’t eat it, even if it’s free!”

Both of Mango’s ears fell flat against the back of his neck. Despite his words, the stallion’s expression had hardly changed during the entire exchange. Mango prided himself on being able to handle even the most skeptical of Fro-yo deniers, but the fact that the orange pony couldn’t care enough to even look annoyed was beginning to annoy him tremendously.

Time for a change of tack.

Mango took a deep breath to calm himself.

“Look, maybe we started on the wrong hoof. My name is–”

“–Mango Leaf and you pass through Ponyville selling frozen yoghurt once or twice per year. I’ve heard your name from the other townsponies, and my former boss won’t shut up about you and your Fro-yo whenever you’re in town!” He finally looked up again, sighed, and extended a hoof. “The name’s Firefly.”

Mango Leaf’s eyes widened. Firefly – the inventor of that personal magic thingy! His smile restored, Mango shook his hoof.

“I’d be honored to serve my signature dish gratis to such a distinguished pony!”

Firefly sat back and crossed his forelegs over his chest. “Like I said, no thanks.”

Mango stared at him, nonplussed. “And why in Celestia’s name not!?”

The pegasus glared up at him. “Because, I hate eating anything frozen!”

Mango stood, dumfounded. His ears twitched, his fur itched, and all four legs trembled as the bitter words echoed through the farthest recesses of his mind: ... hates eating anything frozen... It was impossible to unhear what the stallion had said. It took him several heartbeats to recover his customary aplomb.

“Hate is such a strong word, Mister Firefly. How did a respectable stallion such as yourself come into possession of such a calamitous culinary handicap?”

“Handicap?” Firefly’s ears rose up. “I’ve never seen it that way!” He shook his head. Then his eyes narrowed and his wings sprung partly open. “Wait a minute! I’m an adult, and I’m free to like or dislike whatever foods I choose, especially the ones that give me brain freeze!” As if only now noticing his outburst, the pegasus blushed. Looking sheepish, he folded his wings back into place.

“Brain freeze,” remarked Mango. “You know that only happens if you eat frozen foods too quickly.”

Firefly’s blush deepened. “Well, for me it happens every time!” The pegasus seemed to shrink-in on himself.

Mango felt his heart melt. The poor pony looked so miserable!

“Besides...” said Firefly in a small voice.

“Besides what, my good pony?” ask Mango leaning closer.

Firefly smiled shyly up at him. “Besides, everything tastes better warmed up, anyway!”

Mango felt his heartbeat stop. Or at least he thought it stopped. How could it go on beating after hearing such heresy? He slammed a hoof against his chest to make sure the poor thing awoke from its stupor. He was relieved to hear its beat resume, although the episode left the taste of bile in his mouth.

On a sudden inspiration, he floated a frozen strawberry from his cart. “I am going to prove scientifically the error in your assertions! See if you can resist this fabulous frosty fruit!”

Firefly rubbed his amulet. The unicorn-head shaped gem at its center glowed and a gold-colored magic field retrieved the fruit from his own. Mango had seen many ponies wearing such amulets recently.

“Wow! So that’s how those Personal Spell Casters work! You know, I’d never thought to check them out –” he tapped the tip of his horn with a hoof “– seeing as I’m a natural spell caster myself.”

The strawberry spun in the air as Firefly examined it from all sides. “You’d be surprised how many unicorns use PSCs these days. They’re very convenient for storing long spells, or bundling a bunch of smaller ones together into a magical toolbox for doing more complex incantations. Some ponies have even begun selling packaged spells to automate tasks.” He nibbled the berry delicately, and after a moment made a face. “Frozen strawberries are really very bland.” He rubbed his amulet again. The fruit’s color deepened as he flash-defrosted it, then popped it into his mouth. He chewed contentedly for a moment. “Told you, warmer is much better!”

“But, but...” Mango stuttered. He toasted my frozen strawberry!

Mango engaged in a breathing exercise he’d learned from a wise old stallion during his travels in the Haymalayas. All the while, Firefly licked his lips appreciatively.

Time to up the ante! Mango’s horn glowed once more. This time he selected some nuts and chocolate bits. “This is one of my most popular garnishes for Fro-yo! Nopony who’s ever tasted it has walked away dissatisfied!

Again, Firefly took the chilly treats from Mango and floated them over to his mouth. He nibbled some chocolate, and then crunched a nut in his mouth pensively. “Better, but...”

This time Mango noticed that Firefly’s eyes glowed as he rubbed the PSC amulet. The nuts and chocolate began to swirl around each-other. Soon they were moving so fast all he could see was a blur. There was a flash and the movement slowed to a stop. A slightly elongated lumpy brown mass levitated in front of Firefly. He took a bite and chewed contentedly.

“Mmm–mmm! Not as good as one of Bon-Bon’s chocolate-nut bars, but I don’t exactly have a kitchen here!” He winked at Mango Leaf. “Want some?”

The unicorn repressed a shudder as Firefly took another bite and chewed. His muzzle sported a big smile flecked with bits of melted chocolate.

Mango glared at him and flipped open the cart’s cover. A quick scan inside provoked a feral grin. Perfect! He floated out a frozen pineapple spear. “This is one of my greatest discoveries from my wonderful years in Haywaii. Let’s see what you think of frozen pineapple!”

Again, Firefly took the piece in his own magic field. He gnawed one end carefully. “Definitely better. Not bad, even! Say is that cinnamon, and this salt?” Two small shakers rose from Mango’s cart.

He nodded. Firefly floated them over and dusted the pineapple spear liberally with both. His magic field then flared white hot, wrapping the spear in an intense flame that lasted several seconds. The fruit had been seared golden-brown. He took a bite, and raising one eyebrow offered it to Mango.

The unicorn tasted it. Memories of Luaus came back in a rush. Faces of friends, cousins, aunties and uncles played in his mind’s eye, his first sight of Gillette, astonishingly beautiful as she hovered over the beach in Hoofalulu. The images brought a sudden longing for that happy time in Haywaii. It was a moment before he noticed that he’d eaten the entire spear.

“Told you,” Firefly said with a smile.

Mango wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “I’m willing to concede that you may have a point with the pineapple.” He looked again at the smirking pegasus and his magical amulet. His melancholy hardened into resolve.

No more foaling around! It’s time to call out the A-team!

“Hey, kids!” he shouted out loud. “Anypony want some free frozen yogurt?”

Three heads locked onto his faster than he could have thought possible. Then the two foals turned towards the filly, as if waiting for a signal. She trotted at a dignified pace to the center bench.

“Mithter Firefly,” she lisped, “do you know that thtallion?”

“Yeah, Twist. He’s Mango Leaf, the Fro-yo guy. I’ve only heard nice things about him.”

She leaned closer and whispered into Firefly’s ear. “Tho it’th okay to thay yeth?”

He smiled. “Sure. Go ahead. Tell your parents and Mister and Missus Cake I said so, if they ask.”

“Gee! Thankth!” She turned to the lake where the two foals waited still as statues in the inch-deep water. “Pound and Pumpkin, you want thome ithe-cream?”

The youngsters barreled out of the water and screeched to a halt next to the filly. They nodded vigorously as they shook the water off of their fetlocks one leg at a time.

What a sweet bunch! If this sight doesn’t get him to try Fro-yo, nothing will! thought Mango with glee.

“Pound’ll have the lemon-mango-orange with thprinkleth, and Pumpkin the blueberry-cranberry-banana with thocolate,” said the filly.

Mango raised an eyebrow. He scooped ingredients with a bar of Fro-yo into a mixing press. He extruded the result into a cup and hoofed it over to the little orange-maned foal.

“You certainly know your charges very well, Miss Twist!” She blushed under the praise as he started making the second foal’s cup.

“Mith Pie ith teaching me how to babythit. Thee knowth everything about everypony! It’th a lot to remember!”

The moment he gave the little colt his Fro-yo he dug in with gusto.

“I’m sure it is. And what about you, miss? What flavor of Fro-yo do you want?”

The filly pulled some peppermint sticks from a small purse she kept around her waist. “Can you make one with thith?”

He examined the candy carefully. “Sure!” He put one of the sticks aside, and with his horn field snapped the others into pieces, which he then put into a mixing press. Finally, he extruded all but a spoonful into a cup which he gave the filly. He then squirted the last spoonful into his own mouth. His taste buds exploded with the spicy dual zing of peppermint and cinnamon.

“Wow! This is really good!” he said. “Is that cinnamon with the peppermint?”

“Un-huhn! It’th my own thecret rethipe!” said the filly, smacking her lips. She gave him a brilliant smile. “Thankth, Mithter Leaf!” she turned to Firefly. “And you too, Mithter Firefly!”

With squeals of excitement the kids retreated excitedly back to one of the other benches, laughing as they ate and sampled each-others’ Fro-yo.

Mango sighed. “Isn’t that a sight!”

Firefly looked on the happy trio with affection. “They’ll remember this for a long time, Mister Leaf. It’s memories like these that lift a pony up when life throws them a real zinger.”

Mango felt that something was off. He took another look at the stallion sitting on the bench. His posture didn’t match his words... There’s more than Fro-yo aversion going-on here! he thought. His instincts bade him to sit down next to pegasus.

The only sounds were the day’s light breeze wafting through the willows, and the contented sounds of the children eating and whispering secrets to each other. Mango let the summer’s gentle serenade of sunshine and crickets sing sweetly to them for a while before he spoke.

“You can call me Mango. Tell me, are zingers why you’re navel gazing on a park bench on a beautiful day like today?” he asked.

Firefly’s eyebrows flicked upwards briefly before coming back down slowly. He took a slow breath. The corners of his lips curled up. “There are zingers, Mango, and then there are zingers.”

He nodded, letting the pony take the conversation where he would.

Firefly looked at him sideways. “Do you know what cutie marks really represent?” he asked gently.

Mango raised a single eyebrow. The question surprised him, but having an unshakable faith in his own cutie mark, Mango didn’t hesitate to answer. “They represent a pony’s special talent, the thing they can do better than anything else. Sometimes the meaning of the cutie mark isn’t that obvious to others, but to the ponies themselves there isn’t any doubt!”

Firefly gazed out over the lake. “I guess that’s true for most ponies, but somehow, not for me.” He crossed his forelegs again, the scroll crumpling slightly where it was crushed against his chest. “I’ve always known I wanted to do magic, but unlike all my friends, I never could connect what my heart told me with my cutie mark. It’s been a major point of argument between me and my parents my entire life. Even after I started the whole Personal Spell Caster thing, I still couldn’t figure it out.”

Mango scratched his head. “Come to think of it, I don’t see what a firefly has to do with spell casting, either.” He shrugged. “But then frozen food’s my specialty, not metaphysics.”

Firefly chuckled. “It isn’t mine either, so I decided to consult an authority: I asked Princess Twilight about it. At first she was surprised I would ask and then she told me pretty much the same thing you just did. When I continued pestering her she admitted that she’d never really given it much thought! She got this funny look on her face and then spent nearly a week obsessively trying to find the rationale behind it.” He laughed. “That’s when her assistant Spike forced her to send a letter to Princess Celestia asking for her advice on the matter.”

“Wow. Your question made it all the way to the biggest kahuna of them all! So did our Lady of the Sun shed any light on the issue?”

Firefly nodded. “Yes, but it didn’t make much sense to me at the time.”

Mango waited. The pegasus looked at him out of the corners of his eyes.

“She said that cutie marks are in actuality a reflection of a pony’s destiny. That’s why in the majority of cases it naturally reflects their talent, but sometimes a pony’s particular talent isn’t the defining aspect of their life.”

“I can buy that,” said Mango. “But it sure doesn’t help me figure out the meaning of your cutie mark. How about you?”

“Oh, it didn’t help me either. And that’s the way things stood until yesterday.”

Mango felt uneasy. The stallion had left the door open for him, so probably he wanted him to ask the question, so he did.

“What happened yesterday?”

He smiled. “I found out that I’m a firefly.”

Mango leaned back. His gaze fell on Firefly’s amulet and he pointed to it with a hoof. “Well, you certainly glow when you use that thing!” he laughed. “But I don’t think that’s what you meant!”

Firefly laughed with him. “No, unfortunately for me it isn’t.” He took a deep breath.

Mango scratched an ear. “Okay. Let’s see. What else are fireflies known for...” he gulped as the realization hit him. Their gazes met, and the pegasus nodded.

Mango felt his chest constrict.

“How... how long?” he asked in a low voice.

“Two weeks. Maybe three.” replied Firefly.

“There’s nothing that can be done? The hospital? The Princesses?”

“Nothing... but wait for my destiny to be fulfilled.”

They sat in silence for a while. Mango was dumbstruck. The whole idea made him feel a bit angry, and helpless at the same time. “But you don’t look like somepony who’s... you know! How is this possible?”

Firefly shrugged. “I’ve had a few close calls already, mostly of my own doing.” He touched his amulet. “There were a few bumps along the road getting to this, and I’ve accumulated a lot of damage along the way.” He grinned. “Run-ins with manticores and timberwolves didn’t help. So the doctors tell me my body has run out of resources and things are... coming to a head just now.”

Mango’s throat felt swollen. He swallowed, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

“So why aren’t you travelling? If I were in your horseshoes I’d be... I dunno, trying to fill out my bucket list, see everything I can, before... well.”

Firefly held up the scroll. “Busted!” His hoof dropped down to the bench. “Or at least, I tried to write a list, but when it came right down to it, the few years I’ve spent here in Ponyville have been by far the happiest of my life. I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”

“What about your family, your friends? Do they know?”

Firefly lifted a hoof to his lips, and flicked his gaze briefly towards the foals. “I’m being very discreet about this. Other than the doctors and Princess Twilight you’re the first pony who’s heard about it, and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell anypony else.”

Mango’s anger deepened a bit. “That’s a pretty selfish point-of-view! Don’t you think they deserve to know?”

Firefly’s eyes widened. “Well, when you put that way... but, I guess I just don’t want them making a big fuss about it and moping around for weeks on my account.”

“Firefly!” Mango started loudly, but then glancing at the youngsters, he moderated his tone. “Tell me, which do you think will be worse for your friends, a few weeks of sharing the end, or a lifetime of regret at not having spent some of those precious last days together? Sure, this is a crappy thing to have happen, but you’ve got what most other ponies will never have: a chance to tie up loose ends and make proper goodbyes.”

Firefly hid his face in his hooves. It was a while before he lowered them again. Turning moist eyes away from the foals, he wiped the fur on his face with a hoof and rose.

“Thanks, Mango. You’re right. They’ll feel even worse later if I don’t tell them, and I don’t want to do that to them.” He looked towards Ponyville. “I think now I can scrape up the courage to let a few special ponies know. I owe it to them.” He rose from the bench. “Well, there’s no time like the present. Besides, it’s too beautiful a day to waste feeling sorry for myself, don’t you think?”

Mango glanced around. The brightly shining lake. The breeze in the willows. The laughing children. “Yeah. On that count you’ll get no argument from me!”

Mango stood up and Firefly offered his hoof again. They shook and with a nod Firefly turned towards the direction from which Mango had arrived. He’d barely taken a step when tiny Pumpkin Cake galloped up, her little horn sparking as she floated her Fro-yo cup over her head. She screeched to a halt in front of the pegasus and a spoonful of Fro-yo rose out of the cup. It was an amazing feat of levitation for such a young unicorn.The spoon wobbled precariously as it floated in front of Firefly’s muzzle.

“Try?” she said in a sweet pre-schooler’s voice.

Uh-oh! Thought Mango. He moved to intervene, when without objection Firefly opened his mouth and floated in the spoonful. He made a big deal of chewing and then smacked his lips loudly.

“Like?” asked Pumpkin.

He knelt down and gave the filly a hug. “I sure did! Thank you, Pumpkin! That was the best Fro-yo I’ve ever had!” With a final pat on the filly’s head and a wink to Mango, he rose to all fours and waved goodbye to the youngsters. Then he made his way along the curving path between the willows until he was lost from sight.

Mango sat down on the bench. He rubbed a fetlock across his eyes.

Time.

He’d always thought of time as an infinite resource, that the days stretched before him without end, and if today didn’t fulfill his ambitions, well then, there was always tomorrow. It’s strange how something that’s infinite has no value!

But then, for Firefly tomorrow wasn’t infinite at all. Tomorrow had, through scarcity, assumed almost limitless value. The thought made him shiver!

Mango thought of all the ponies he loved and who loved him, ponies he had left behind in his wanderings through Equestria. The sweet face of Gillette swam to the fore in his mind’s eye. The way she looked and how she’d hid her tears when, again, the urge to travel had led him to leave Canterlot. A mare like that wouldn’t wait forever.

And she shouldn’t have to!

Again, resolve firmed within his breast.

Firefly’s right. The day is too beautiful to waste! Allthe days are too beautiful to waste!

He stood up and grabbed hold of his cart. It was time he got back to Canterlot and gave Gillette the answer she had been patiently waiting for all this time.

It was, finally, time to go home.

Third Place Run-Off: Lilligold vs. Evergreen - Winner: Lilligold (by Default)

Author's Note

THE OFFICIAL CONTEST COMPENDIUM

Third Place Run-Off: Lilligold vs. Evergreen - Winner: Lilligold (by Default)

What Doesn't Kill Us - by Lilligold's Author

April 2nd, 1004
8:02 a.m.
Home

I received a letter from Princess Celestia of Equestria today. I wonder how many journal entries in the world start with that. I know that this will be my seventh that starts that way, but it may in fact be the last, for this letter is different! I’ve photographed the letter for posterity, and I’ll allow it to speak for itself:

FROM THE DESK OF PRINCESS CELESTIA

Dear Lilligold of Elmshire,

I am writing in regards to your recent request for Royal Permission allowing for an independent expedition up Mount Draggle, specifically an expedition to locate, study, and sample the plant known as the phlume. I would like to start by thanking you for your letter. It was professional and extremely heartfelt, both qualities I value. I would also like to say that your sheenflower arrived safely, and I appreciate the gift.

Your qualifications are impressive, your determination is admirable (it hasn’t escaped me that this is the seventh time you’ve written in two years), and your recommendation from Duchess Debonnaire goes a long way. In light of all this, as well as in thanks for your services during my niece’s wedding and towards the Equestrian New Year’s Foundation, I am willing to grant you full access to Mount Draggle and the surrounding forest. Furthermore, should you encounter the phlume, I will permit as extensive a study of the plant as you see fit, so long as you make no attempts to breed it, harvest its seeds, or modify its structure in any way that may enhance its destructive capabilities. You are also prohibited from harming or killing the plant, unless in self-defense.

I must, however, put my hoof down in regards to an independent expedition. While you are indeed qualified, Mount Draggle is forbidden from the public for a reason, and remains at #7 on the official list of Equestria’s most dangerous territories. As such, I have contacted the Royal Equestrian Rangers stationed in Vanhoover, and they have agreed to supply a qualified member of their ranks to accompany you on your expedition. I understand this may upset you, but please understand that I’ve done this for your own safety. I cannot emphasize enough the danger of your endeavor, Miss Lilligold.

Should you accept these terms, you are to report to the Royal Equestrian Rangers Headquarters at seven in the morning on the 8th day of April. From there, you will meet your guide and may begin an expedition that is to last no longer than four days. If you have not returned to the Rangers by midnight on April 11th, a rescue party will be sent to recover you. If, however, you do not accept my terms, send a response indicating such, and the expedition will be called off. The offer will remain available unless otherwise noted.

Again, thank you for your correspondence. I sincerely hope I have not made a mistake in allowing this. You have my faith.

Be careful,
Princess Celestia of Equestria

P.S.: On a personal note, be extremely wary of the phlume. That plant is older than I am, and it was frighteningly strong when I encountered it. I have no idea what it is capable of so many centuries later. Don’t let your ambitions blind you. Take care of yourself.

Needless to say, I am ecstatic beyond words! Forgive me if this entry is a shorter one—I’m just far too excited, and I have so much to prepare! Before anything, though, I must go thank Debs for her recommendation, since that seems to have tipped the scales. Perhaps I’ll gift her with another dynasty lotus to mark the occasion.

In regards to the escort from these Royal Equestrian Rangers, it’s not ideal, but it shouldn’t be cause for worry either. Knowing myself, I’ll be an awkward mess around whoever they’ve assigned, but hopefully that means they’ll be just as willing to ignore my company as I am to ignore theirs. Either way, I won’t let it bother me. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, after all!

Brainstorm of the Day: Naturally, a golden dynasty lotus. A simple project, but a monumental one.

***

April 7th, 1004
9:56 p.m.
Ranch Springs Hotel, Vanhoover

I opted to travel to Vanhoover a day early (can you blame me?). It’s quite a lovely city from what I’ve seen. The district of Old Vanhoover even reminds me of Elmshire a smidge. The climate is quite cold, but I’ve come prepared for that—and prepared for much, much more. So much, in fact, that it necessitated the use of my bottomless pitcher plants to hold everything. This city mare is more than ready for you, Mount Draggle!

Out of curiosity, I stopped by the Headquarters of the Royal Equestrian Rangers. The outfits they wore were so unique! Tan campaign hats and scarlet overcoats all around. They were quite inspiring, truth be told. Unfortunately the pony who will be accompanying my expedition—one Sergeant Evergreen—wasn’t present. She was off doing field work of some description. I should take that as a good sign, I suppose.

At any rate, I have an early start tomorrow, so I’ll wrap up here. I may stay up a tad late looking over my research notes for the phlume one last time, but I have them pretty well memorized anyway. I must do something to bide my excitement, though. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough!

Brainstorm of the Day: Mountain palm trees. Red trunks and tan leaves, with the same snow enchantment as the everwhites. Not extraordinarily original, but probably quite pretty.

***

April 8th, 1004
~9:00 a.m.
Enroute to Mount Draggle

My goodness, Sergeant Evergreen is a character. By far the most pronounced Vanhoover accent I’ve heard. “Aboot? Hoser? Eh?” Needless to say, she should make for an entertaining companion. She was rather quiet when we first met up, but then, so was I. Now that we’re out of the city, she’s a little more talkative. Not much, though, which is fine by me.

I’m not sure how much she trusts me out here in the wilderness. Granted, I don’t look nearly like your average outdoorspony, but I’ve had more than enough camping trips to the Woodwind to know my way around a compass. And my research on The Drag is extensive enough, I’d wager I know parts of it better than the good sergeant herself. She’s never even heard of the phlume!

For future reference, “The Drag” is a nickname the Rangers have coined for Mount Draggle. Surprised I never encountered it in my research. It’s quite clever. “No hike in the Range doozier than The Drag,” so Evergreen tells me. As if I didn’t know.

The forest is getting thicker, but I don’t think we’ve crossed into the Hydious Woods quite yet. Still no danger, and no unique plants or creatures to speak of. We did stumble upon an anthill, which I did my level best to pretend didn’t exist. I swear, insect repellent is among ponykind’s greatest accomplishments. Evergreen seems content to whistle along with the cicadas and flutter with the butterflies, so I’ll let her deal with all that. I know I’ll have to grow accustomed to the bugs if I want to do this expedition, though. So long as I keep my goals in mind, I should be alright.

From here on, I’ll probably keep these entries short but frequent. I’ll want to document anything interesting, but I can’t spend too long with my nose in the book. Back to the silence of the trail, I suppose.

Brainstorm of the Day: Swarmtrap. An aerial flytrap that seeks out and consumes any type of insect. I love you, Audrey, but flies are only a sliver of the problem.

***

April 8th, 1004
~3:00 p.m.
Hydious Woods

~~Just encountered a very peculiar breed of plant. It looks like a vine with pine needles growing along its length. It’s coiling up and around a tall spruce tree. It’s mostly green with bits of black, and~~

Nevermind. Evergreen just informed me that it’s a highly venomous millipede. I nearly jumped out of my skin. She got a good laugh out of it. It was rather humiliating. I’ll do my best to forget it ever happened, and I hope she can do the same.

Who am I kidding? That’s a story she’s going to keep.

***

April 8th, 1004
~3:30 p.m.
Hydious Woods

We’ve just stopped for our first lunch break. Normally I probably wouldn’t make an entry on this, since I’d assumed we were simply going to eat in silence, but Evergreen surprised me. She was curious about my breed of magic, and she wanted to see it in action. I did the old mosslight trick, and she seemed quite thrilled with it—more so than most who see it. I believe her exact words were, “Golly, I figured it’d be just for show. Ya didn’t tell me there was a practical use for your tricks!” I don’t think she meant to offend me, but it came off quite rough.

She suggested I could use mosslight as a natural trail marker, which is quite a good idea honestly. Why didn’t I think of that?

***

April 8th, 1004
~10:00 p.m.
Mount Draggle Base Camp

I feel like a filly on a camping trip with her mother.

Evergreen’s heart is in the right place, and her survival knowledge has certainly been helpful (especially with a particularly giant wasp that is sure to appear in my dreams tonight), but I really don’t think she trusts my own capabilities. She wants to do all the dirty work—if I see a plant that piques my interest, she insists upon gathering it (or avoiding it, in one irksome case). She doesn’t understand that I need to get into the thick of it myself for this expedition to pay off. Second-hoof observations won’t cut it for my purposes.

Despite the interference, though, this first day has been rather productive. No signs of the phlume, which is to be expected at this point, but there were several flowers that were also on my checklist (lion blossoms!). Notes on all of them can be found in my research notebook, of course.

Evergreen and I have agreed to do the night watch in shifts, so we both get a chance to sleep. I think during my first shift, I’ll take the opportunity to explore the surrounding area on my own. I can’t hear any animals, nor did my research indicate any dangerous wildlife living this low down the mountain. Plus I saw an interesting microswamp that Evergreen suggested we avoid on the way in. It’ll be dark, but the mosslight should help.

***

April 9th, 1004
~6:00 a.m.
Base Camp

Went out to the microswamp at around three in the morning. I found nothing unusual save for a large root that didn’t seem to belong to any of the surrounding plants. It was bulbous, and I believe it was purple in colour. Perhaps a remnant from a plant that used to live there, but I have no way to know,

Allegedly, Evergreen saw me leave in the night. She says she followed me to keep an eye out and was impressed at the level of caution and expertise I displayed. Maybe she’ll be more willing to see me as an equal rather than some nosy tourist now. Regardless, we’re going to begin our ascent today. Things should get more interesting from here.

Brainstorm of the Day: Songshrooms. Small mushrooms that can sing, each one producing a note in the sequence of a song. Simple in theory, but probably very hard to fine-tune. Table this idea.

P.S.: Evergreen makes a mean oatmeal. I must ask her how she learned to use a camper’s stove so well. I’ve never been good with it.

***

April 9th, 1004
~9:00 a.m.
Draggle Ascent

Pink snow. Pink snow! It’s so unbelievably simple, but so beautiful too. I’m stunned I’ve never heard talk of it. Evergreen calls it watermelon snow. She says it’s actually quite rare, and caused by a certain breed of algae, which makes it all the more wonderful! Note that it doesn’t actually taste like watermelon, and that ingesting it may kill you.

She’s laughing that I’m so excited about this. I don’t care. Pink snow! It’s the same shade as my coat! I’ve taken a sample and preserved it carefully. I can’t wait to do work with this plant.

Second Brainstorm of the Day: Everpinks! Everwhite trees combined with this special algae. Also make the snow safe to consume, and make it taste like watermelon. Eat your heart out, Mango Leaf!

***

April 9th, 1004
~12:00 p.m.
Draggle Ascent

We happened across a family of dead moose.

Pardon that tonal shift—I’m just not sure how else to put it. Evergreen is quite stricken at the moment, so we’re taking a break. I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen her not smiling. She clearly needs this moment alone.

It was a rather grotesque sight. We have no idea how these gorgeous creatures died. They all have a peculiar yellow sap mixed in with their blood, and strange-looking flowers are budding from their fur. I’m not nearly crass enough to even consider sampling those flowers. The look on Evergreen’s face… I know when to leave well enough alone.

Perhaps I’ll go see how she’s doing. We need to continue our hike, but I would hate to push her too quickly.

***

April 9th, 1004
~8:00 p.m.
Second Camp

After the events of today, we opted to set up camp a little bit early. We found a nice sheltered area, which should be nice since Evergreen says it might rain during the night. I don’t claim to be a meteorologist, and I trust her instincts, so it’s best to be prepared.

I found fewer odd plants today, but the wildlife is becoming more and more diverse. We had one particularly striking encounter with a snow badger. I think it helped to calm Evergreen’s nerves after the earlier incident. She seems to have a great appreciation for all the fauna around here—and the flora, if I’m being honest. She’s become much more at ease than when we first began our trip. Perhaps I have too.

Still no indications of the phlume. If the rumours are true, it should be nearer the summit, but I’ve never found anything detailing the exact location. We haven’t even seen any caves where it might be dwelling yet. I suppose we’ll just have to call it a night and hope for the best in the next two days.

Lo and behold, just as I wrote that and closed my journal, Evergreen whisked me away to a nearby clearing. Apparently stargazing is a favourite pastime of hers, and she wanted to take the opportunity before the clouds rolled in tonight. I must admit that it was rather gorgeous. The way the galaxy and the stars all swirled together like a luminescent sea. It’s something I’ve never seen through Elmshire’s lights. I’m glad she shared it with me.

***

April 10th, 1004
~4:00 a.m.
Near Second Camp

Something attacked us in the middle of the night. I have no idea what, and neither does Evergreen. It came during her part of the night watch, and she thought it might’ve been a bear, but it had tentacles of some kind. Nothing in this forest should have tentacles. The closest thing should be vines.

We made it out safely, although we had to sacrifice our camper’s stove in the process. It was an ingenious move, but I suppose campfires will be our kitchen now. I’m sure that will be no issue for Evergreen.

***

April 10th, 1004
~11:00 a.m.
Draggle Ascent

No matter how much research I did, no matter how many urban legends surrounding this mountain I’ve heard, no matter how much Evergreen told me about her experience in this region, I don’t think anything could have prepared me for what we just encountered. It was both beautiful and terrifying. Mostly terrifying, though.

I think Evergreen called it an arachniden. A very large, very foul-smelling clearing taken up almost entirely by a truly massive corpse flower. The flower itself was a masterpiece of nature, but what the flower was host to… that’s what unnerved me. It was crawling with gigantic wooden spiders—timber widows, apparently. I don’t think I’ve ever stood more still in all my life.

We made it away from there unnoticed, and Evergreen did her best to calm me down (bless her heart). Writing this journal has helped soothe my nerves, but I’m still shaken. We must keep going though. I can’t let a mere living nightmare scare me away from finding the phlume. That would make this whole thing ~~a horrible waste of my time and of Evergreen’s.~~ Evergreen asked me to scratch that last. Blame her.

I’m almost positive that flower had no relation to the phlume, but perhaps its size has something to do with the phlume’s influence. Only further exploration will tell.

***

April 10th, 1004
~6:00 p.m.
Cavern, Nearing Draggle Summit

We’ve stumbled across a rather small cave. It’s actually not the first we happened across (we took our lunch break in the first), but it’s revealed something monumental.

There are strange tendrils poking through the cave ceiling. They’re reddish-purple in colour with yellow specks all along their length. There are also black, bulbous growths on all of them, pulsating. This is significant because it’s in line with reports of what the phlume is supposed to look like. I wonder if these are the roots of the phlume, but there’s no signs of the plant above the cavern.

On second consideration, these tendrils remind me of the odd root I found in the microswamp earlier in the expedition. If my hunch is correct, then what could that mean for the phlume? A root system that spans all the way to the base of the mountain? How big is this plant?

Do I still want to find out?

***

April 10th, 1004
~10:00 p.m.
Very Near the Summit

Things are very quiet in our camp. No birds chirping, no wolves howling—even the wind seems reluctant up here. Neither Evergreen nor I have been in much of a mood to talk lately. Perhaps I’ll try talking to her after this entry. I have a horrid feeling we’re both thinking the same things.

At the very least, our campsite is quite nice. It’s a rocky outcropping that stretched far from any of the mountain life, and it has an astronomical (no pun intended) view of the night sky. It feels safer than any of our other campsites. Just myself, Evergreen, and the night. No curious sounds or sights, and hopefully no chance of another midnight attack.

Alright, I’ve been dancing around the subject, but I suppose if there’s any safe place to talk about it, it’s here. I’m scared to keep going. Yes, I want to find out what’s at the summit, and yes, I’m still determined to see the phlume with my own two eyes, but I’m terrified that it might be the last thing I ever see. Strange things are happening on this mountain. Even Evergreen, for all that she seems to thrive in the wilderness, seems very on edge.

It’s bittersweet, really. On the one hoof, I’m glad Princess Celestia arranged for her to accompany me on this trip. I’m surprised at how well we click, and I can’t even imagine trying to endure this experience on my own. I was foolish to think I ever could. On the other hoof, though, I deeply regret having brought her into this mess. She clearly doesn’t want to be here anymore. I’m actually stunned she hasn’t exercised her authority as a sergeant to call this expedition off. At this point, I doubt I would argue.

But we are very near the summit. Hopefully we’ll be on our way back down by noon tomorrow. Until then, I’m going to see if I can coax some conversation out of Evergreen before we go to sleep.

Brainstorm of the Day: Almost forgot to do one of these. Luna’s rose: a flower you put near your bed that makes your dreams pleasant and keeps nightmares at bay. Difficult to execute, but would be a great salvation right about now.

***

April 10th, 1004
~11:00 p.m.
Third Camp

Keeping this brief so I can get back to night watch. Had a wonderful heart-to-heart with Evergreen. Turns out she’s scared too, but she wants to see it through for my sake. She admires my passion, saying it’s a rare commodity these days. That was the gist of it, anyway. She said it in her own Vanhoovery way, which I’ve come to adore.

I hope to have a new penpal once this expedition is done with.

***

April 11th, 1004
~7:00 a.m.
Third Camp

Just as the night wound down, there was a very brief moment where Evergreen grew too tired to maintain her watch and we both fell asleep. In that time, something came into our campsite. The ground nearby is covered with the same yellow sap that the dead moose had in their fur, and Evergreen says the dirt on the rock has been disturbed by some massive creature.

We are both fine, aside from our nerves. I don’t know what it was, and I pray we don’t find out. Either way, we’re starting for the summit.

***

April 11th, 1004
~11:00 a.m.
Cave Entrance, Draggle Summit

We have arrived, and I have a very difficult decision to make.

The summit is almost completely barren. There’s rock, there’s snow, and there’s a cave. I don’t think the cave is exceptionally large, but I have no way to tell from the entrance. We can tell a few things from here though. For one, the air inside is hot, humid, and putrid with a smell like death. I can make out a few roots pulsing along the cave’s walls, ceiling, and floor—whether they belong to the phlume is uncertain, but that’s the safe bet.

The worst of it is the sound, though. Horrid, strangled breaths are echoing to us from within. It could be some creature in great distress, or it could be the phlume itself, either in distress or causing distress. And every so often, a bloodcurdling howl comes from inside. I have no doubt in my mind that I will find the phlume if we venture into this cavern, but I fear what else we might find.

Evergreen just used her headlight and noticed traces of yellow sap dotting the cavern. I’ve never seen her face so pale. Still, she’s not vetoing the option of going inside. Is she really that determined to see this through? For my sake? We only just met a few days ago. It startles me how profound of an impact we seem to have had on one another. Four days alone in the wilderness will do that, I suppose.

I have to think this through carefully. One of my life’s ambitions sits just around the corner of this cave. But now that I’m standing here, I’m not so sure I want to find it anymore. Especially when it’s not only my life on the line.

I don’t know what to do.

***

April 15th, 1004
7:18 p.m.
Train to Elmshire

The phlume is the king of plants. It’s a flower and a monster rolled into one—a multi-headed beast that puts some of the horrors of Tartarus to shame. Its petals are jagged and red, arranged to look like a blood-drenched maw. Its body is a great, eldritch cluster of violet blobs speckled with red, staring every which way like a thousand dead eyes. It has vines for killing and a hunger for meat. It is the single most dangerous, terrifying botanical specimen in the world.

That’s what all the rumours say anyway. I wouldn’t know—I’ve never seen it.

What I do know is that there are some things in this world worth more than your passion. Friendship, for instance, is a rather big one. No matter how extravagant your talents, no matter how mind-boggling your feats, it all feels hollow without a friend to share in it. And under no circumstance should you ever, ever put your friends in danger, not even for your own benefit, or for theirs. I understand that now.

Evergreen and I had a perfectly safe, quick trip back to Vanhoover. We arrived just before our deadline, and I spent the night in her living quarters. After that, we spent a few days getting to really know each other, without the constant threat of some unseen monster looming around us. We even went on a few smaller, safer, and altogether more enjoyable hikes. I’m glad The Drag happened, but those other few days with Evergreen are far and away the highlight of my trip.

I don’t think either of us really expected something like this to happen. We both seem content with isolation, but somehow we found even more comfort in one another. I think I can safely say I’ve grown as a pony through this endeavor. So thank you, Evergreen. I look forward to writing you.

Brainstorm of the Day: None today. Just take comfort in knowing that the Tree of Harmony already exists.

Discussion Chapter

Quarterfinals: Luster Lock vs. Lilligold - Winner: Lilligold (by Vote)

Author's Note

THE OFFICIAL CONTEST COMPENDIUM

Quarterfinals: Luster Lock vs. Lilligold - Winner: Lilligold (by Vote)

What You Love - by Luster Lock's Author

Prologue

A clack, a whir, and a clack.

“INFERNAL FERN,” read the title card in splotchy, childish hornwriting. A quill scratched on paper in the dimly lit room.

Clack, whir, clack.

“Fern made of fire! Didn’t last long, though.
FIRST USED: Lit fireplace, with The New Spell.
TRYING TO REDO WITH: Ugly torch, with The New Spell.”

More scratching, then clack, whir, clack.

A low table was pictured, behind which was a unicorn filly, light of coat and lighter of mane in the sepia. Young enough for her star-and-lily cutie mark to be wondrous, but old enough for it to be broken in. On the table lay a gnarled and cloth-wrapped bit of wood.

Clack, whir, clack.

Three quarters of the next slide were blackened and warped, and the rest showed the wide eyes and open mouth of the filly—possibly screaming.

More clacks and whirs, but the next three slides were even more damaged.

“TUMBLERWEED,” read the fourth. A moment passed, and then a sigh disturbed the silent air. There came a fervent scribbling, and then more of the normal scratching. Then the next slide was slotted in.

“Really cool metal vines, with a working keyhole!
FIRST USED: Lock on granny’s hope chest (NtS: Apologize!), with The Spell and The Other Spell.
TRYING TO REDO WITH: Padlock, with The Spell and The Other Spell.”

Yet more quill-scratching. Clack, whir, clack.

The same table as before—though scorched in the center—with the same filly behind it and a solid-looking padlock sitting on top.

Clack, whirrrrrr, clack.

“ZENBREATH SPROUT,” read the slide.

A growl rang out. At once, a pale green glow flared brightly and lit the patch of the room by the projector, then a series of lanterns came to life and finished the job.

A unicorn mare sat hunched over an open journal on the projector’s table, set up in the center of a small room—otherwise barren but for mostly empty bookshelves along one wall and the stacks of boxes along another. And the dust coating most every surface.

The mare, a lively pink excepting the dark bags beneath her eyes, reached a hoof forward and powered off the projector. With a screech of wood on wood, she stood from her stool and peered down at the projector’s carousel.

The spaces before the currently loaded slide were empty.

She growled again, sitting her star-and-lily-stamped flank back onto the stool. The quill on the table rose up in her magic, and as it started scratching away once more, she eyed the journal’s page.

~~How about a fruit that tastes different every time you bite into it? Bowl of fruit, with Spell #7?~~
Weeks and can’t stop making it taste like all at once. Move on.

Flowers with perma-dew that doubles as a sweet juice drink? Hibiscus, with Spells #5 and #14?
Perfected in half an hour. Where’s challenge?

~~A phoenix-like plant that regrows after it gets burn~~
Called a pine tree, idiot.

~~Maybe a type of grass that sings when wind~~
No no no! Did last year and was utterly dull!

~~What if I could~~

~~A reed~~

Gardener’s Block Therapy

Maybe look through old trials for something to perfect?

~~Onyxrock Pepper. Orig: mine vein, Spells #1 & #6. Redux: large gemstones, Spells #1 & #6.~~ Failed to reproduce.

~~Wallow-well Moss.~~ Perfected back then.

~~Infernal Fern. Orig: fireplace, Spell #3. Redux: torch, Spell #3.~~ Mane is just how I like it.

~~Tumblerweed. Orig: grandma hope chest, Spells #1 & #2. Redux: padlock, Spells #1 & #2.~~ Failed to reproduce.

7.

The mare stared at the page, eyes bloodshot but blank. The quill hovered, jittering slightly.

She flipped to a blank page and started writing.

Gardener’s Block Therapy (Cont.)

Inspiration vacation. Close Glimmering Gardens and block new commissions.

Tired of woods. Always woods around Elmshire, or deserts. Tired of Elmshire! Tired of country!

Tired of deserts.
Visit Equestria? Where in?

Always a happy little town over there.
No more woods, no more deserts, no more happy little towns. Urban?
Elmshire is urban…
~~Go to urban place.~~ Go to reasonably urban place. Small city, not too crowded.

Go get spark back.

What You Love

Free Writing

Okay okay okay, alright. Elmshire far behind. Can I write again? Think of plants? Am I creative yet? What have I done what have I done, well, I caught one of those fancy dirigibles. Way more bits than trains or a ship but last time I took a vacation was before I opened the store. Years Mother used to say treat yourself but I never

First time on a dirigible and it’s a beast of a thing all dark and it looks scaly and they might have used real dragon scales on the outside. I bet it’s just lifted with light gas or magic but I picture the insides like a hot air balloon from Tartarus fire roaring

The little mare held for dear life onto her mount, its roars and belching flames piercing the sky.

“Steady!” she called up from its back, but the wind was too strong to carry the command. It was all she could do to keep her hooves wrapped around one of its massive black spines.

She made the mistake of

She looked down to the world below, and marveled. Her dragon was bringing her over the sunny sands of the San Palomino. The mare had walked that land as a foal, soaked up its heat for days on end like a sword in a forge, and grown strong. That knowledge burning in her mind, she called once more, “Steady!”

The dragon checked its turbulence with a grunt, at last, and the little mare looked ahead, towards the green lands of their destination.

Equestria. It would be hers.

Something beautiful, but hard and dangerous. Try to get some dragon scales. And some nice, thorny sorts of roses? Spells #2 and #7?

Hoofington was chilly. It was well into the afternoon, but mist hung low about the dirigible landing pad just in from the city’s outskirts, and the skies were more white than blue.

A single-file line of ponies came down the great airship’s tiny staircase, many of them dressed in sharp suits or sober dresses. A few others were undressed, and all the rest wore only enough for the temperature.

A pink-coated, silver-maned, star-and-lily-marked mare in a forest green scarf reached the base of the steps. One hoof held a paperback journal close to her chest, the front cover of which read, “Property of Lilligold,” then, “a.k.a. A Unicorn,” then, “i.e. Open at Own Peril!”

Lilligold peeled the journal open as she walked, and she drew a quill out from her scarf with her magic and set it to the page.

Never tried turning something into a cloth or other textile kind of thing. Decorated so many weddings, but what if I could make a living dress material for a bride? Any colorful flowers. Might need a new spell.

Hoofington had no skyscrapers, no grand monuments. No towers and nothing towering. Past the loose cobblestone pathway in from the landing pad was a small commercial district, filled predominantly with squat, utilitarian brick buildings.

Color came in the form of signs, mostly, shining with neon and magic in shop windows or above awnings. Traffic was subdued but not negligible, and Lilligold pony-watched even as she moved deftly through and past groups of fellow pedestrians.

Formless neon flower(s), definitely Spell #3. Easy, though. Maybe a self-reshaping glass shell for it, too? Spells #1 and #7, with a little tweaking.

Lilligold was smiling brightly, scratching away at her journal without even having to look. Instead, her eyes darted all around herself.

To the busy intersection, carriages whizzing by. To the clothing outlet with the sparkling gowns on display. To the food cart selling a variety of aromatic teas. To the abandoned side street with the boarded up buildings. To the cheerful, bronze-painted street performer. To the dubious smoke shop with the tinted windows. To the toy store with the chintzy tune pouring out its open door. To the inky shadows in the cramped alleyway.

Her quill had eaten two full pages by the time she came to a break in the district: a bridge over a river that ran right through the city. On the other side appeared to be more businesses, though their signs were less elaborate and the buildings themselves were somehow even squarer.

But Lilligold’s eyes were wide as she crossed the bridge.

On its sides were fencing to keep ponies from falling (or leaping) to the water below, and on the fencing were hung a multitude of padlocks. Some were dark and basic, others bright and elaborately engraved. Some were cheap and tinny, others encrusted with gems. Some fat, some teeny, some sharp, some curvaceous. Many, many of them were in the shape of hearts.

Lilligold slowed to a stop as she took more of the sight in, and her expression slipped into blankness. She stood aside from the flow of ponies over the bridge, flipped back a few pages in her journal, and read. Then she skipped forward to a fresh page, raising the quill.

Temp. Notes

If you found these notes, stop reading here. This means you!

Tumblerweed.

Originally made from grandma’s hope chest’s lock, Spells #1 and #2. Tried to remake with padlock (unsuccessful).

Spell #1 = frame spell, tangible base material → plant. Probably didn’t cause the failure.
Spell #2 = manifestation of emotion/intention.

Emotion or intention w/ padlock? Probably little to none. I think I bought it that day, just to try to make a tumblerweed? I didn’t care much about it, any rate.

Granny loved that hope chest (never apologized for uglying it up, you jerk). Gramper gave it to her, had lots of “memories” inside. That lock meant something, to her at least.

Protects something important.
Want to make a tumblerweed, probably need a lock somepony cares about.

She ripped the page from her journal with a hoof, tore and crumpled it up, and tossed the remains over the fence. A couple of passing ponies aimed scowls at her back, but said nothing.

Lilligold stared hard at one of the padlocks before her. It was simpler than most of the others—a heart, flat-fronted like it had been cookie-cut from a pan of steel, with a perfectly stereotypical keyhole in its center. Colored a glossy, even azure, and its clasp a polished silver.

Her horn’s glow suddenly flared a few notches bigger and brighter—but just as quickly diminished back to only its hold over the quill. She bit her lip, and she brought the quill down.

NtS: It’s not right to experiment on other ponies’ things without asking. You know this. Stop.

Lilligold let her journal float in her magic as well. She brought her freed hoof up to the heart-lock, lifted it, and tilted her head. The edge of the back read, in letters embossed on the metal, “Lock’s Locks, Ltd.”

“Welcome to Lock’s Locks!” said a high-pitched male voice the very second that Lilligold walked in the door. She winced and held her journal even closer, but turned all the same. She found an off-white, older unicorn stallion with a curly green mane and particularly glittery eyes, who continued, “I’m Block Lock, and I’d bet bits to bolts you’re new to the place. Anything in particular bring you to our store this afternoon, miss?”

Lilligold’s eyes roved over the shop and the other patrons milling about. It had a very focused design scheme, certainly: from where she stood could be seen many tall, matte gray, hardware store–like shelves stocked with a great many different kinds of lock paraphernalia—padlocks, chains, things with locks pre-mounted in them like knobs or small strongboxes, a selection of what looked to be precise little tools, and more.

Thin, metal plants that shape into tools on command! **Fourth-quarter project, all on its own.

All of it was very iron-and-steel, very cold and dark. Except—Lilligold started when she saw it—the swirling rainbow patterns of the entire western wall’s papering, and all of the colorful locks mounted on the great chain link fence that stretched across its surface. Most of the ponies in the store were concentrated there.

She pointed a hoof to it, saying, “I passed by a bridge, and—”

“Say no more, miss.” Block Lock, grinning, began walking towards the back of the shop.

Lilligold hesitated in taking her first step, but she followed a moment later.

“Hey, Ellie!” called out Block as they passed the edges of the last shelves and came to a more poorly lit portion of the building: a small work area off from the counter with the register. Two pegasus mares were bent over a large workbench there, bright lamps pointed down at locks their wings were working with.

The pegasus that looked up at Block’s call had a dim gray coat and a bluer, longer, and even more curly mane than him. Plus a cutie mark practically identical to the heart-lock back on the bridge, with an open clasp. She said, “Yeah, Pop?”

He nodded towards Lilligold. “Got another love lock initiate here. From out of town, I think.” At Lilligold’s blank stare, he added, “Bit of an accent, miss. And the bridges are old news by now.”

‘Ellie’ let the tools fall from her wings and onto the benchtop. She turned to the other mare, blue-coated and straight-maned, and said, “Leave mine alone this time, Ma.”

The older mare just sniggered, not taking her eyes or wings from her work.

Ellie came forward into the light, and looked to be roughly the same age as Lilligold—though of the two of them, Ellie’s eyes looked far duller, at the moment. Her smile was bright, though, and she extended a wing to Lilligold. “Luster Lock.”

Lillig

“Oops, um.” Lilligold’s horn flared brighter, and she hovered Luster’s wing firmly up and down. “Lilligold,” she said, putting a smile on as well. “So… not ‘Ellie’, then?”

Luster shook her head, and she started towards the western wall. “Ma’s named pretty much the same thing as me. Gets confusing.” The pair arrived at the chain link fence, and she turned back to Lilligold and continued, “So yeah, love locks. Haven’t heard of ’em, I’m guessing?”

Lilligold shook her head.

“All the rage a couple months back,” said Luster, “with all the other locksmiths around copycatting, but I've been at it way longer. Got popular when I finally got ’em classed as interactive art instead of vandalism—you’d need to check your own place’s rules on that, by the way.” A mock-stern glare. “Not liable, us. But yeah, point of ’em is they symbolize unbreakable love between the owners. You set one up someplace and get rid of the key.”

Her eyes wide, Lilligold said, barely above a whisper, “Perfect.”

Luster smirked. “Got a special pony back home, then?”

But Lilligold said quickly, “Luster, I have something of a queer proposal.”

“Er.” The smirk fell steadily from Luster’s face. “Not that I’m not into that, but if we’re talking love locks and, like, commitments, then I don’t know how it goes where you’re from, b—”

Face burning pinker than pink, Lillgold waved a hoof wildly about. “No!” she yelled, before shoving the hoof over her mouth. She lowered it again only after the other patrons stopped staring, and continued, much more quietly, “I meant a business offer.”

The smirk resurfaced. “Oh, right on. What’s the deal?”

“A short summary.” Lilligold’s stance went professionally rigid, as though there were a podium in front of her. “I own, operate, and stock a specialty agriculture store in my homeland. Magical plants, artistic and practical both, all of them my personal designs and breeds—and such a thing requires a great deal of experimentation.”

“Right…” Luster’s eyes darted down to Lilligold’s journal and back up. Her expression didn’t change, but her tone was a touch less enthusiastic as she said, “When you say ‘experiment’, you’re not glossing right over some freaky, cauldron-y stuff or something, yeah? Nothing super weird?”

“Not…” Lilligold frowned. “Cauldrons aren’t involved as a rule, and certainly not in my proposal. Why?”

“Because I think I know where this is headed.” Luster’s eyes were keeping a laser-focused watch on Lilligold’s face. “Listen, Lilligold, we sell top-notch locks here, and you wouldn’t be the first or even the fortieth eccentric pony to come in with some well thought-out story for why your shed happens to need a wagonful of ’em, or just the strongest lock in the whole—”

“Please stop.” Lilligold slipped her journal into her scarf and rubbed her hoof to her temple. “It’s nothing as nefarious as all that, I assure you. I keep my work very private, yes, but what I need the locks for… here.”

Lilligold looked about—no one but Luster was looking her way. The unicorn shut her eyes, and her horn brightened, magic swirling visibly along the pattern of its fluting. The air in front of Luster’s face glowed lightly and began to spiral just the same. The spiral spun faster, pressing into itself, and in a matter of seconds, the air in the field was a dense and visible thing.

Luster’s eyes widened, and in the next instant, the glow was gone and the air had taken a floral shape: a long stem topped with petals blooming in a spiral pattern, pinwheeling slowly. It began floating to the ground, more lightly even than a downy feather, and Luster reached out a wing, catching it undamaged.

“Free sample,” said Lilligold, opening her eyes. “It should last a few days, kept outside of any tightly enclosed spaces. Just do not get it near an open flame.”

Luster raised and lowered her wing, guiding the ghostly, delicate bloom through the air for a few moments, before looking back up to Lilligold. “This is the sorta thing you want to do to my locks?” Her eyes were fuller, more awake.

Lilligold shook her head. “As I was saying, my work takes experimentation. Your ‘love locks’ might be just what I need to complete an old project, and only after I can verify th—”

“What do you need?”

Luster’s eyebrow rose. “You just carry them around in there…?”

“It always pays to be prepared,” said Lilligold, shutting her journal and sliding a sheet of parchment and her quill across the table to Luster.

One that read, at the top, “Glimmering Gardens Official Oath of Secrecy.”

The storeroom of Lock’s Locks was much like the showroom, in that its lighting was fighting a losing battle against the sheer size and quantity of its shelves. More so, given that there were no windows. Still, room had been found for a pair of stools and a small table, from which came the room’s only sound: a quill tip scratching on parchment.

“Done,” said Luster, and her other wing relinquished its hold on a love lock, which fell to the table with a heavy clank. “And done. Now c’mon, lemme see it!”

Lilligold smiled and lit up her horn. The form and quill tucked themselves into the journal, and the lock—an orange and green thing, shaped into a side view of two kissing, closed-eyed pony faces—moved to the table’s center.

The glow turned intense. It was as though it was thickening, looking almost solid enough to be touched and felt. The lock rattled against the wood. Still, the magic expanded—Lilligold was grunting through gritted teeth, now. The lock was beginning to dent the table.

And then the magic winked out. Lilligold was lightly panting.

“That’s it?” said Luster, face deadpan. The lock was still a lock. “Did we really just waste that much time?”

“A failed experiment isn’t a waste,” said Lilligold, picking the love lock up in her hooves. “Though… I really did think I was on to it.”

Luster sat back on her stool. “On to what, exactly?”

Lilligold stared blankly into Luster’s eyes for a moment, then said, “I suppose you’re sworn to secrecy either way—I do hope you took note of the hefty fines, by the way—so there’s not very much harm in telling you. I suspected that there’s an emotional component to the process of making this breed. Somepony has to care about the lock. About it protecting something important.”

Luster blanched.

Running her hoof over the lock, Lilligold continued, “I saw your cutie mark. It’s you that makes these, correct? If I’d been right, the love and intention you imbue into them just through the act of creating them would surely—”

“Er.” Luster gave a dry, weak chuckle. “Since we’re already sharing secrets—” She held up a hoof as Lilligold’s mouth opened. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You can have mine for free, long as you promise you won’t go blabbing to my parents—it might break their hearts, and I couldn’t do that to them.”

Lilligold shut her mouth, and she nodded firmly.

Luster steepled her primaries, fidgeting. “Well, they think the same thing you probably do. That I got my cutie mark making my first love lock, or whatever—and I did get it right around then, and it probably does have something to do with why it looks how it does, but…

“I got my cutie mark by picking a lock, not by making one.”

Silence settled back into the storeroom’s air.

“So…” said Lilligold. And after a moment, “Your special talent is picking locks?”

Luster winced. “Yeah and no.” She sat forward on the stool again, setting her hooves on the table. “Thing is, when I was a filly, before my parents trusted me to take care of myself, we had double cylinder knobs installed on the shop’s doors—locks not just outside, but inside, too. This one night, some school friends want to go to some bad concert, and I tell myself I need to go with them—any excuse, right?—and so I bust out. And then I just walk around Hoofington, feeling the night air on me, and I get my mark. Don’t even go to the concert.”

She sighed and continued, “Next day, my parents think I was up late working hard on my love lock design and got my mark like that. And I couldn’t set ’em straight—couldn’t say I think locks kinda suck, at least when they’re in my way.”

Lilligold placed the padlock back down on the table. “And these?”

Luster’s ears fell apologetically, and she said, “I really don’t care about them, past that they’re a lot more fun to make than a standard kind of lock. Artsier. They’re… just a good outlet, you know?”

Her hoof sliding over to touch her journal, Lilligold gave a small nod. “But they’re not what you love.”

“Right,” said Luster. She stood up from her stool. “I guess this means…?”

Lilligold nodded more firmly, picking her journal up and standing herself. She looked to Luster, and said, “We don’t have any further business. I apologize for taking so much of your time.”

They made their way to the door, Luster waggling a wing and saying, “Nah, it’s no big thing.”

The showroom was empty of other ponies; darkness had fallen fully outside.

Lilligold smiled, shaking her head as she walked. “It was inexcusable.” Past the shelves, at the front door, she added, “In fact, I insist on a proper apology.”

Before Luster could get a word out, Lilligold’s horn was surrounded by magic. It expanded, thickening to opaque, and coated the front door’s knob. A tingling filled the air, and built.

And then wiry, dark vines sprouted out around the knob’s lock. They reached and spread, all along the door, fattening as they went. Coil after coil wove about one another, until at last, every vine had reached the floor or part of the doorframe and braced itself there, hard. The glow faded.

“No matter your feelings on locks,” said Lilligold, quietly, “there does indeed seem to be something in this shop worth protecting.” Lilligold turned her smile on Luster, and continued, at normal volume, “This free sample, at least, should be much more permanent.”

With wide eyes, Luster produced a small key from within her wing and fitted it into the ‘doorknob’. She jumped as the vines suddenly retracted exactly opposite how they’d grown out.

Lilligold opened the door, stepped out, and breathed the air. “Have a good night, Luster.”

She started away, pulling out her journal.

Epilogue

Luster moved between the shelves, snuffing out lanterns as she went. The pitch black outside the shop windows took a firmer and firmer hold on the room. She reached the work area, where her lamp was putting out the only light on the floor, and she approached the workbench.

The lock she’d been struggling to restore earlier in the day sat shining beneath the hard light. Pristine and fully assembled.

Luster sighed, smiling. “Damnit, Ma…”

She sat at the bench, taking the lock into her wings. Eyeing it. Running her feathers along it. Just holding it. Holding it.

Another sigh.

She set the lock down and drew open one of the bench’s underside drawers. Out came a paper and a pencil, and she placed them beneath the lamp.

Dear Guys,

Next time I talk to you, I know you’ll tell me you felt it coming, and you get it.

Bye for now. Probably for a real long time, for this one.

Love you both to bits. Be safe.

~ Ellie ~

L-Block - by Lilligold's Author

The golem dropped her in the cell, and only then did Luster Lock realize how much trouble she was in. She wheeled around and bared her teeth at the stone monstrosity—it stood on two legs and blocked her only escape, staring at her with snakebite eyes that glowed honey yellow. “See something you like?” Luster growled.

As if in response, the golem shifted. Its body filled the exit, blocking the tunnel off entirely. The lights in its eyes faded—the only trait separating it from the surrounding stonework now were two black points where its eyes had been. With that, Luster was alone with the sound of her own breathing.

She reared back and spat on the golem. The saliva oozed towards the floor with the consistency of a blood clot. Luster turned away and collapsed on her haunches. She felt like she’d just run a marathon in the dead of summer. Her body ached, her mind throbbed, her nostrils burned, and all she wanted was to go home—not an inclination she normally had, but the quiet of Hoofington would be paradise next to the silence of prison. It wasn’t an option though, so she put it out of her mind. She focused instead on assessing the isolation chamber for all it was worth.

It was cramped. Widthwise she barely had enough room to fully extend her wings, and less than twice that lengthwise. The air inside felt like it hadn’t moved in centuries, and it smelled of dust and sewage. The floor, ceiling, and walls—even the golem, now—all consisted of the same fat cobblestones. Thin lines of magic ran where the mortar would be, the same sickly yellow of the golem’s eyes. Otherwise, the room’s only features were a dark, smelly gutter near the exit and a high slit of a window on the room’s far side. The view outside was almost immediately blocked by a wall of earth. Only the final crumbs of sunlight reached Luster’s cell. Moss crept past the bars and hung on the wall like a stain.

No immediate options for escape presented themselves, and that frustrated her immensely. Even the exit lacked a lock to try and pick. Her body begged for rest, but her mind screamed at her to find a way out. If not for herself, then for Trixie. That was the whole reason she was in this mess anyway.

Trixie… Luster’s body tightened. The image of Trixie shackled and silent behind bars burned in her mind’s eye—that red thing clamped around her horn, locked by such a pedestrian mechanism. If only Luster had been a little faster.

Her eyes steeled over. She closed them and shook her head. Frustration wouldn’t help her right now. As much as she hated it, Luster knew she had to play the long game. She lay down and let exhaustion overwhelm her.

***

Lilligold had heard commotion in the next cell over—she was certain she had. She’d been prone to a few delusions in the time she’d been imprisoned, but none had made any sense until now. It had been the grinding of a stone golem and the voice of a pony, both echoing to her through the gutter. She was positive: another unicorn had been sent to solitary confinement.

Naturally, she said nothing. The last thing she needed was attention. She wanted nothing more than to be alone with her thoughts. The confinement was solitary, after all.

She rested her head against the wall. Her horn made a peculiar tock noise as it tapped the stone. A painful reminder of the magic capacitor binding her horn. Every time she remembered it, she reflexively tried to cast a spell. And every time it sent the same, disgusting wave through her, like she’d ingested something that her body was rejecting. She screwed up her face and tried to ignore it.

Her thoughts wandered back to her plants, as they always did. She always tried to recall the happy memories—the store she had built and groomed and loved with all her heart—but the trauma of her last night there always thrust itself upon her like a bleeding gash in her mind. Every detail pounced at her and bit like snakes. How those golems had come from nowhere and wreaked pandemonium. How… he had grabbed her in his slimy magic and stolen. He, with his savage eyes and voice like wind.

Lilligold bit her lip. Her eyelids fluttered in vain to cool the heat of her tears. She’d grown so weary of crying, but she still couldn’t help it. The thought of all her plants, stolen or silenced amid the carnage. Years of work she’d put her heart and soul into, gone in the span of no time at all.

And Audrey…

That did it. That always did it. A sob wrenched from Lilligold’s chest. Crying burned her lungs and stung her throat, but she needed it. And so she sobbed. It was the only sound she found familiar lately, and that only made her sadder. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Hey…” rasped a voice. Lilligold cinched her lips.

“Hey,” it said again. It came distantly through the gutter. “Hey. Is somepony there? I think I heard crying.” A pregnant silence ensued. It lasted a decent while, and Lilligold nearly thought the mare had given up, but then she heard, “If you are there, say something. Please. I could really use someone to talk to.”

Lilligold said nothing. She was in solitary for a reason—they both were.

“You probably could use someone to talk to too, right? C’mon. It’s not like we’re getting outta here anytime soon. Not without some help, anyway. Gimme something to work with here.”

Still, Lilligold’s lips remained locked. Nothing she could say would help this pony. Nothing this pony could say would help her. It was hopeless.

The pony groaned. “Look, I know I heard something, alright? There’s no way I’m already going crazy down here. So stop messing around and say something!” The vigor in her voice struck Lilligold less than the scratchy undertone. Her heart screamed at her to say anything, but she wouldn’t.

Dungeon silence resumed. Lilligold didn’t dare move lest her hooves click too loudly on the stone. She only listened, praying the pony would give up and fall asleep before long.

“Please…” the voice said. “Please be there. I can’t be alone down here. I just… can’t.”

Those words sent a pang through Lilligold too sharp to bear. She silently cursed her conscience and whispered, “I’m here.” She waited, and when no reply came, she moved closer to the gutter and said, “I’m here.”

“You are?” Lilligold made to reply, but the mare was quicker. “Ha! You are! I knew there was somepony there. Why didn’t you say something before?”

Lilligold worked her tongue uselessly. How could she even hope to articulate it? She finally settled on a lie. “I don’t know. Disbelief, I suppose. It’s been so long since I’ve spoken to another pony.”

“Seriously? How long have you been down here?”

“Two months, perhaps a little more.” She knew that only because she’d been counting her… punishments. Once weekly, and there had been eight so far. She shivered.

“Yow. What did you do to get locked down here instead of in the main building with all the other ponies?”

Despite the fact that the mare couldn’t see her—or perhaps because of it—Lilligold blushed. “I… would rather not say.”

There was a moderate pause. “That bad, huh?”

Lilligold swallowed hard. “Perhaps we could discuss something else.” She thought for a moment. “My name is Lilligold, by the way.”

“Oh, right. Luster Lock, locksmith and former escape artist. Irony’s a bitch, eh? I got caught trying to bust out an old friend, and now I’m here. What’s your story?”

That caught Lilligold’s curiosity enough. “Caught? You weren’t abducted?”

“Uh, no.” In the ensuing silence, Lilligold realized she’d said exactly the wrong thing. “You were?”

Lilligold’s throat dried up, so she nodded. When she realized how silly that was, she said, “Yes. All of us were. Except for you, it would seem.”

Even though Lilligold couldn’t see Luster Lock’s face, she imagined her mouth to be hanging open. “What kind of prison is this? Why were you abducted?”

At that, Lilligold was lost for words. Unfortunately, fate seemed determined to answer the question for her.

The golem in Lilligold’s door stirred. She reflexively yelped and curled as far from it as she could, trembling in the corner like a schoolfilly anticipating a scolding.

“Lilligold?!” Luster called. “What’s going on?!”

“No! No!” Lilligold screamed. The golem stepped forward and reached an arm out to her, its soulless eyes burning deeper into her memory. “Please! Not again! Stop!”

Luster Lock was yelling something, but it was muffled behind the ringing in Lilligold’s ears. The golem clenched its fist around her tail and yanked her into the air. She kicked and thrashed and pleaded, but the golem continued unabated. It carried her out of the cell, her screams echoing through the dungeon blackness.

***

The tiredness was becoming downright painful now, but Luster was determined not to fall asleep. Not until Lilligold came back. She needed to know what was going on in this place. All she really knew was that Trixie had gone missing while touring in Elmshire, and she’d tracked her down to here. Beyond that, she had no idea.

Soon enough, the silence was disturbed by a distant rumbling. It grew closer and closer, until the roar of grinding stone was nearly on top of her. Luster perked her ears up. Something thudded, and the sound of the stone golem faded. As it did, she heard a soft sobbing coming through the gutter. Luster frowned. “Lilligold?”

There was a gasp, and then the sobbing resumed. Luster tried again. “Lilligold, what happened? Where did you go?”

Lilligold’s sobs redoubled. Her breaths came in erratic pulses, like a pony on the verge of mania. Something that sounded like speech tried to break through the weeping, but Luster couldn’t make out a word.

Stretching for something to say, Luster found herself at a loss. Lilligold’s sobs struck her tired mind heavily. She’d never been much good dealing with serious situations, and this was about as serious as they came.

“We’re gonna get outta here, Lilligold,” Luster said. “I don’t know how, or when, but we will, okay? I’ve gotten out of way worse jams than this.” She wasn’t sure that much was true, but it sounded right. “We can do it. I know we can.”

Whether her words had any impact or not, Luster had no idea. Lilligold’s sobbing seemed to be winding down, at any rate. It descended briefly into sniffles, then stopped entirely. Silence dominated once more.

“Lilligold?” Luster said. When no response came, she didn’t bother trying again. She still had exhaustion to sleep away herself, and now she had a lot more to think about too. She curled up against the wall and was gone in a matter of minutes.

***

The potted flytrap sat before Lilligold, barely more than a sproutling. She bit her tongue and focused. A complex web of magic appeared in her mind’s eye. She wove it into the plant carefully, making sure every spell was precisely aligned, and taking great care not to damage the plant.

When she was done, Lilligold opened her eyes. The flytrap squirmed a little and flapped its leaves. It made raspy mewling noises, tilting its pod every which way. Tears immediately flooded Lilligold’s eyes.

“Hello, little friend,” she said. “Welcome to the world.”

***

A heavy clattering snapped Lilligold awake. She wiped the tears from her eyes—they were still puffy and sore from the previous night. She coughed up some dust and spores, then turned to the door, where the golem was shifting back into place. A wooden bowl rattled at its feet. A thick, black substance rested in it, the surface congealing before her eyes. If she didn’t know any better, she might’ve guessed it was cold tar. The sight always made Lilligold’s stomach turn, but she drew the bowl closer anyway.

“Lilligold?” came Luster’s voice. It jolted Lilligold’s heart a bit. “You awake?”

“Yes,” she said. She dipped her muzzle into the bowl and ate a glob of the stuff. It glued her teeth together, and it always made her fur sticky and rock-hard, but at least it was edible. It tasted about as good as hot slag smelled, though.

“What in Equestria is this stuff?” Luster asked.

“Oatmeal, once upon a time.” She processed what Luster had just said, then asked, “You’re from Equestria, then?”

She heard Luster spit, followed by something skidding across the floor—Luster’s bowl of ‘oatmeal,’ probably. “Uh huh,” she said.

“Quite a long way you’ve come.”

“I was bored. When I heard Trixie’d gone missing, it was the perfect excuse to beat the rhythm, y’know? Little adventure, save a friend, perfect summer.”

“Ah.” Lilligold took another bite of oatmeal.

A brief silence settled, then Luster said, “So, about last night… what exactly happened?”

Lilligold chewed on the oatmeal longer than necessary, buying time to muster up some courage. She eventually swallowed and said, matter-of-factly, “I was taken away for punishment.”

“Punishment? What did you do wrong?”

Despite her efforts, Lilligold could sense heat building in her eyes again. “Nothing. Nothing at all. He just… does it. For his own pleasure.”

A long, thick silence ensued. “Who does?”

“The pony who abducted us. The one keeping us here. He—” Lilligold’s voice hitched. “He takes us, one at a time, and makes us hurt. He puts us through trauma, and just… watches.” She closed her eyes, and a metal greenhouse flashed through her mind.

“Why?”

Lilligold wrenched her eyes shut. “I don’t know,” she squeaked. A sob forced itself from her. “I just want to go home.”

She managed to choke back any further sobbing, waiting for Luster to say something. “You will get home. We both will! I promise, I’ll bust us outta here before you know it.”

Biting her lip and shaking her head, Lilligold said, “It’s not possible. No one can leave this place.”

Amazingly, Luster chuckled. “Clearly you don’t know who you’re talking to. Never met an escape that could stand up to the Radium Maiden! We’ll be out of here in a jiffy.”

Lilligold’s eyes glazed over. “How?”

When Luster’s voice came back, it was downtrodden beyond recognition. “I… haven’t gotten that far yet.”

The silence resumed. And what a long silence it would be.

***

Several months passed in no small time.

When she wasn’t sleeping, Luster was asking Lilligold questions about anything and everything, as though she couldn’t bear the silence—or the solitude. Lilligold had been hesitant at first, but she’d eventually told Luster all about her plants and her shop and her talents. She carefully avoided mentioning Audrey, because she descended into an inconsolable mess whenever she did. Luster only knew her name, that she was a plant, and that she was Lilligold’s oldest friend.

Lilligold didn’t ask so many questions. It was universally Luster who initiated the conversations, and Lilligold preferred to listen unless asked something directly. She gathered that Luster had been an assistant to a street performer named Trixie a long while ago, and she missed that time greatly. Clearly she didn’t find much joy in her profession as a locksmith, but she was always more than happy to bring up Trixie and wax poetic about her memories there.

As the weeks dwindled on, Luster brought up the topic of escape less and less. Whenever she did, Lilligold tended not to comment on it. She couldn’t tell if Luster’s willpower was dwindling, or if she’d simply chosen not to talk about whatever plans she had. All she knew was that the outside world still seemed very, very far off.

In all those months, Luster never left her cell. Lilligold was taken away every week for her punishment, and the process never got any easier. If anything she cried more and more with each passing punishment. She never went into detail about what the punishments entailed—if she tried to, she wouldn’t get very far before succumbing to sobs again.

It was after one of these punishments, and the sleep that followed, that something pivotal happened.

***

Lilligold sat in a vast green field, smiling at Audrey. The flytrap stood about as tall as Lilligold herself now. She rested in the grass, her pot discarded and her roots bare.

With a little giggle, Lilligold sent a ripple of magic through the grass. It brushed up against Audrey, and she turned towards Lilligold. She smiled and chirped, then pulled herself through the grass with her vines.

Lilligold beamed. “Good girl!”

***

“Argh!” Luster slammed her hooves against the golem again. It didn’t budge. She screamed and punched and screamed and punched, rendering her throat raw and her hooves swollen. Her eyes bulged, bloodshot and wet as they were. “Let! Me! Out!”

“Luster,” came Lilligold’s sleepy voice. “What are you doing?”

She smashed both her hooves against the golem and came to a rest, breathing heavily. “I can’t take this anymore, Lilligold! This is killing me! I’m cold! I’m hungry! I’m dirty! And there’s no way out of this fucking cell!” She continued to pound on the rock. Streaks of blood appeared on the wall.

“Please, Luster, calm down! I understand your frustration, believe me, I do, but—”

“I’m so useless!” Luster slammed the golem. Something cracked in her hoof. She didn’t care. “I couldn’t get Trixie out. I can’t get us out. And I don’t even have a purpose in this stupid dungeon! At least you get some attention. At least you get to leave this place for your damn punishments!”

Lilligold didn’t answer for a long time. Again, Luster didn’t care. She just kept blindly punching, though her jabs were losing force.

“Luster, you don’t know what you’re saying.” Her voice was trembling. For whatever reason, that grated on Luster’s nerves. “Those punishments are torture of the worst kind. I would much rather be stuck in this room for years on end than endure even one more of those sessions.”

“Cry me a river!” Luster pivoted and punched the wall above the gutter instead. She rested there and said, “You don’t know what this is like for me. You don’t even know me! You’ve had months to get used to those punishments. Stop being a wimp, already!”

“Pardon me!” For the first time, Lilligold had raised her voice. “Do you even know what those punishments consist of? Would you like me to tell you?!”

“If you can get it out between your crying, be my guest!”

“They make me kill Audrey!” The words rang through the two cells like a guillotine’s thud. “They let me use my magic to revive her, only so they can take her away. Again! And again! And again! So don’t you dare tell me I’m not the one suffering in all this. How would you like to have your dearest friend—your life’s ambition—flaunted before you and be unable to do a thing?”

Luster said nothing. A fire still smoldered in her gut, but it was dwindling into embers. Eventually, she growled, “What life’s work?”

With that, the both of them went quiet. Luster collapsed at the golem’s feet. Her hooves throbbed and gushed scarlet. Her throat ached of dryness. But her headache hurt worst of all. She wasn’t sure she’d wake up again if she lost consciousness, but her body was desperate to quit, and she fell asleep before long.

***

Something smacked Luster in the head, conking her awake. She groaned as lukewarm black goop seeped into her mane from the upturned bowl on her head. She managed to shake the bowl free, but the oatmeal stuck hard in her mane, giving her ironclad hair.

She didn’t even bother trying to rouse Lilligold—they both needed time to think. Instead, she just lay there. Blunt pain wracked her body, but her hooves had stopped bleeding at least. She pushed herself into a sitting position, grunting at the stiffness of her limbs, and set about picking the oatmeal from her mane before it hardened too much.

Much of her hair had clumped together into straight black rods. “Ugh, come on,” she grumbled. But try as she might, the oatmeal was dead set on molding to her mane. She tried to at least separate some of the hairs, but the clump simply bent at her touch. It held firm in its bent position, making it look almost like a lockpick.

Luster blinked.

***

Lilligold stood at the base of her stairs, tears in her eyes as she looked up at Audrey in the mangled doorframe of her bedroom. The cloaked unicorn had Lilligold frozen in his grip—all she could do was stare.

Audrey lunged a vine at the unicorn, but he dodged. “Buffoons!” he called to the two golems ransacking Lilligold’s shop. “Neutralize this vegetable. I want it.” The golems dropped whatever plants they’d been mangling and marched towards Audrey’s vine.

Another vine shot out and nailed the unicorn. Lilligold was freed from his magic grip and collapsed to the floor. “No!” she shrieked. “No! Please!” She summoned her magic and nailed one of the golems. It fell, but it was too late.

The other golem gripped Audrey’s vine. A howl split the night, and the flytrap went limp.

***

“Lilligold!”

Lilligold’s eyes fluttered open—she couldn’t recall a time she’d awoken with more tears in her eyes. She sniffled and rose to sitting. She pulled her bowl of oatmeal close and began eating in silence.

“Lilligold! Come on, get up!”

“I’m in no mood, Luster,” Lilligold mumbled. She wasn’t even sure it was loud enough to make it through the gutter.

“No! Look, I’m sorry about last night, okay? I went crazy and took it out on you. Whatever. But you have to listen! I can get us out of here!”

Lilligold clenched her teeth. “Please stop talking,” she said. “I requested solitary confinement for a reason.”

Wherever Luster had been going, that seemed to derail her. “You what?”

“I prefer to be left alone. I am better off alone. That’s why I asked to be placed in isolation.” She slammed her bowl on the ground and glared at the gutter. “But then you come along and give me false hope. You make me relive my most painful memories time and again. And then you have the gall to trivialize all of this and get angry with me! I’m done with you, Luster Lock.”

In all her life, Lilligold had never scolded anyone so badly. Her conscience screamed at her to apologize, but she refused to listen.

“That’s not true. We need each other, Lilligold. You needed me, and I sure as shit needed you. Now more than ever. Please, Lilligold. You have to believe me. I can get us out. Today.”

Lilligold stomped a hoof on the ground. She was trembling from head to tail. “It’s impossible. You said it yourself.”

“It’s not impossible. It’s just really, really sticky.”

Despite everything, that got Lilligold to raise an eyebrow. “What?”

In the quick silence, Lilligold imagined Luster to be smirking. “You didn’t eat all your oatmeal, did you?”

***

It took two grimy, disheveled manes, many hours of explanation on Luster’s part, and many hours of fumbling on Lilligold’s, but they managed. Lilligold twisted her hair-made-lockpick in the keyhole of her magic capacitor for the umpteenth time, and it clicked. A chill swept through her, and the device clattered to the floor. Magic immediately swelled to her horn like a newly undammed river.

“Was that it?” Luster asked.

Lilligold stared at the magic capacitor, lying in two pieces at her hooves. She chuckled as she lifted the pieces in her magic and launched them down the gutter. “You’ve done it! You’ve done it! Ah ha ha!”

“We did it! All I did was make a mess of my mane and… be a locksmith, I guess!”

“All you did? That’s no small feat, Luster!” Lilligold clasped her hooves around her horn. It tingled with and ambient frequency she’d missed so dearly. “How in the world did you even know how to instruct me on a lock you’ve never seen?”

“I saw it real quick when I tried to bust out Trixie. Looked dead-simple. Turns out it was!” At that, Luster’s tone exploded into one of sheer ecstasy. “Now blow a hole in the wall already!”

Lilligold turned on the dormant golem. “With pleasure.” She lit her horn like a brazen sunflower and fired a shock of magic into the golem’s eyes. It groaned in the doorway, then collapsed into her cell, motionless. The yellow lines criss-crossing the dungeon turned five-alarm red.

Lilligold leapt over the golem and turned to the right. “Stand back!” she shouted. Another beam shot from her horn and struck the second golem guard. It toppled forward with a final thud.

A dark gray mess soared into the corridor and wrapped her in a tight embrace. Lilligold staggered but returned the hug fully, even as the alarm lights flashed all around them.

Luster pulled back and looked Lilligold in the eyes. Her grin was downright infectious. “You look nothing like I imagined, you know that?”

“Likewise,” Lilligold choked out. She was beaming from ear to ear. “But I don’t think this is quite the time.”

“Right.” Luster released her and looked forward down the dank corridor. “Let’s get outta here. Together.” She galloped away.

For a brief moment, Lilligold looked at her own bedraggled mane, still bent in an oatmeal lockpick. “Yes,” she said. “Together.” She took off after Luster.

Semifinals: Lilligold vs. Mango Leaf - Winner: Mango Leaf (by Vote)

Author's Note

THE OFFICIAL CONTEST COMPENDIUM

Semifinals: Lilligold vs. Mango Leaf - Winner: Mango Leaf (by Vote)

How Mango Leaf Stole Hearth's Warming - by Lilligold's Author

‘Twas the first week of winter in fair Canterlot.
And the snowclouds, they snowed. They snowed quite a lot.
There was chill in the air, and frost underhoof,
And icicles lining each eave of each roof.
The foals frolicked gaily, built snowponies wide,
Till the sun winked away and bade them inside
Where their parents awaited with plates of warm food
And mugs of hot cocoa. ‘Twas just the right mood!
For the essence of winter can always be found
In desserts that are warm and sleep that is sound.

But this tale, dear friends, does not start so warm.
It features a pony quite far from the norm.
A stallion who somehow had grown to despise
Those cups of hot cider and warm apple pies.
Yes, any hot food would give him a rise!

Mango Leaf walked, shopwagon in tow,
Through the coldest of nights and deepest of snow.
The smells from the homes drew a scowl to his face.
They smelled of fresh bake, which smelled of disgrace.
“Dumb winter!” he cried. “You make it so hard
to peddle my wares. My dessert avant-garde!
Why is it that this, the season of cold,
Should hinder us few who love cold tenfold?
It’s all I desire to share my dessert.
My love for this tastiest frozen yogurt!”

Mango huffed and he pouted, it just wasn’t fair!
That for three months a year he was doomed to despair.
Yet he saw no way out. Not a one. Not a bit.
It seemed that, for now, this was all. That was it.
And till spring rolled around, he might as well quit.

But then, what he saw on the street’s near’st corner
Lifted his spirits and dispelled his self-mourner.
For there, twixt decor of Hearth’s Warming glee
Was an independently owned travel agency!
“Now there’s an idea!” he said. “What a score!
Why haven’t I ever thought this up before?
I’ll travel someplace where winter’s unseen!
Someplace with sky blue, and grass evergreen!
And then, once I’m there, it’ll be time to shine!
To share my dessert that’s one of a kine!”

He strolled to the store, in through the front door,
And just ‘cross the floor stood a mare, who looked bored.
“Aloha, good mare!” said Mango mid-trot.
“I’d like to be sent someplace that is hot.
Where summer’s eternal and winter is not.”

“Uh huh,” groaned the mare in a voice not quite hers.
She slid forth a bundle of travel brochures.
“Hoofolulu?”
“Been there.”
“Palomino?”
“Done that.”
“The city of Elmshire?”
“…Now where is that at?”
“Just south of the desert, it’s really sublime.
Please can you say why we’re speaking in rhyme?”
“No can do,” Mango said. “Now I’m Elmshire-bound!
Please sell me one pass for a trip not-so-round.”
With a sigh, and a stamp, and a series of clips,
She hoofed him a pass. “That’s two hundred bits.”

His coinpurse weighed less, but his spirits were high.
With a smile and a wave, he bade her goodbye.
He stepped back out into the night, and then shivered.
“Come morning,” he said, “it’s bye-bye to this blizzard!
Look out, sunny ‘Shire, for the Great Froyo Wizard!”

***

The trip took twelve hours, from six until six.
So far as sleep went, Mango’d gotten his fix.
So rested was he for the sojourn ahead,
By the time he awoke, the sky had gone red.
As the countryside rolled like an emerald sea
Mango yawned, and he smiled. “I can’t wait to see
All the sights and delights this city might hold
So far from that nasty Equestrian cold.
But what’s more than that: I’m dying to share
My dessert so divine that none can compare!”

“Next stop: Elmshire!” the conductor proclaimed.
“Make sure when you leave that your baggage gets claimed!”
Mango grinned out the window, but something was off.
A chill coursed his veins, and he sputtered a cough,
For the city of Elmshire was covered in frost!

But not just frost. No! Also ice! Also snow!
And everything wintry that Mango did loathe!
“What?!” Mango roared. “But this can’t be right!
Where’s the heat? And the sun? And the summer so bright?!
Don’t tell me I’ve traveled so many long miles
To learn that I’ve fallen for wintertime wiles!”
He shot to the front of the train as it stopped.
The door squealed open. To the platform, he hopped.
As snowflakes danced ‘round, he glared long and hard.
He looked ‘cross the station and found a street guard.

“Hey!” Mango called as he galloped headlong.
“What’s with this snow? It has to be wrong!
I was told this is where only summertime lives,
But it’s blizzarding now. So tell me: what gives?”
The tone of his voice seemed not at all his.

The guard wore a smile. “Oh, isn’t it great?
Now we can ski! We can sled! We can skate!
All thanks to the latest of royal decrees,
Mandating the placement of everwhite trees!
One on each block, and two in town square.
Praise be to the duchess! She really does care!”
With a scoff, Mango said, “That’s completely insane!
Decreeing it winter? She’s sick in the brain!
Where is this duchess? I’ll give her my reason
Why summer should be the ultimate season.”

The guard’s mouth turned down. “I’m not sure I should.
If your word with the duchess does more harm than good…
But you seem quite earnest, and I feel divine!
So I’ll show you the palace down Parapet Line.
But first, can you say why we’re speaking in rhyme?”

***

His wagon retrieved, and a stomp in his gait,
Mango Leaf passed through the palace front gate.
In a city created of buildings aglow,
This opulent manor was star of the show.
‘Twas wider than wide, and taller than tall.
And wore enough holly to deck every hall.
The rooftops were sharp, trimmed wholly in gold,
Yet paint gone so dull, it had to be old.
But Mango cared not for aesthetics just now.
There was too much at stake—forget being wowed!

The guard led him in, up two flights of stairs,
Down six corridors, past three working mares.
At long last they came to a lavish oak door.
He knocked on it thrice, and then knocked once more.
“Duchess! A pony has asked for the floor!”

“Let them inside,” said a voice, so demure
That it straddled the line of being mature.
The door rumbled open, and Mango walked in.
A throne stood inside, a cute mare sat within.
She looked far too young to be done with school
Never mind on a throne, solitary in rule.
She smiled so coy and said, “You look strange!
Foreign, are you? From Equestria’s plains?”
Facing the mare, Mango bowed low and said,
“Actually, Duchess, I’m Haywaiian-bred.

“But that doesn’t matter. Not now, anyway.
There’s only one thing that I’ve come here to say:
I came here in search of a summer retreat
For I wish to share a great frozen sweet,
But your new decree has gotten me beat.

“I ask of you now, please lift your decree.
Take torches to ev’ry last everwhite tree,
For only in heat can you eat my dessert.
My scrumptious, fantastical frozen yogurt.”
The duchess’s mouth drew in a straight line.
She chewed on her words. She chewed for some time.
“I worried on this. On these trees. Even told
Their master—my friend, dear, sweet Lilligold—
That perhaps our fair subjects would not enjoy winter.
And now here you are, in quite a big dither.

“But my word is my bond. I will not go back.
The trees, they will stay till they’ve all fallen black.
And only one thing will alter my choice:
Hearing your plea in Lilligold’s voice.
That’s the one way you might find rejoice.”

Mango considered. The task sounded tame.
He just had to sway this Lilligold dame
To taste his sweet froyo. To taste it just once.
And surely the flavour would make the fair dunce
Relinquish her chase of the cold winter season.
She’d chop down the trees. She had to see reason!
“Miss Duchess,” he said, “just where can I find
This Lilligold mare? I might change her mind.”
“I doubt it,” said Duchess. “Her mindset is hardened.
But still, you may find her at Glimmering Gardens.”

With a smirk and a bow, Mango Leaf said,
“Thank you, Miss Duchess!” And outside he fled.
The duchess waved bye and called, “Anytime!”
She slumped in her throne, but ‘fore she reclined
she pondered, “Did all that just happen in rhyme?”

***

Road after road after serpentine road
Mango Leaf carted his heavy cartload
Of froyo supplies. And it just gained more mass
As the wheels gathered snow. This trip was not fast.
So late was the hour when he reached the store,
The red in the sky was not there anymore.
‘Twas all black and blue, great flurries blew ‘round,
The howling of gales commandeering all sound.
His bones has grown cold, his hooves had gone numb.
But he still soldier’d on. Determined, or dumb.

He hammered the door, at eleven-oh-four,
Of Glimmering Gardens: a floral-type store.
“Hello?” Mango said. “Please, let me in
This weather is brutal. It’s cold as all sin.
So open up, please, ‘fore frost bites my skin.

The shop made no sound. The windows were dark.
But someone was there, for one light did spark
On the store’s second floor, the window topmost.
And soon, to the door came the probable host.
The entry swung open, and standing inside
Was a beautiful mare who seemed beyond tired.
“Oh dear. Yes, of course. Come into my home.
Just please mind the plants. Each one is home-grown.
I’ll fetch you a blanket to help with the cold.
And in case you stay long: my name’s Lilligold.”

“And mine is Mango. So nice to meet you.”
His words came out kind. His thank-you was true.
He stepped from his cart and crossed the threshold
Into the warmth, and out of the cold,
But froze when he saw just what this shop sold.

‘Twas full up of plants. Complete as a jungle!
But each plant was strange, a natural bungle.
From flowers that glowed with ethereal light,
To pinecones that blended right into the night,
To pumpkins that floated up high like balloons,
To roses that seemed to be made of monsoons,
To cacti that burned, looked ripe to explode,
To min’ature trees making min’ature snow.
Despite his own thoughts, Mango was quite impressed
By this greenhouse that danced with such magical zest.

Lilligold came back, wool blanket in hoof,
Hot tea in her magic. So Mango’s head shook.
“No tea for me please, but thanks anyway.
I actually have something I quite need to say.
I’m afraid it can’t wait, not even one day.”

With a smile so soft, the mare said, “Of course.
Say what you will. The floor is all yours.”
Huddled deep in his blanket, Mango Leaf said,
“I’m here not by chance but by choice. From the head
Of the city, the duchess, I’ve come. Seeking you,
For this winter you’ve made has got be quite blue.
I came to this city to sell my dessert—
To share with the masses my frozen yogurt—
But no one will buy it in this kind of storm!
The sun must be up! The air must be warm!

“So here I am now. I’m begging you, please!
Take away all of your everwhite trees
And bring back the summer with radical haste.
I promise you now, it won’t be a waste.
Especially after this yogurt you taste.”

He offered a cup full of lemon-lime swirl.
He’d whipped it up prior, for meeting this girl.
Lilligold took it. Her frown was so small.
As was her frame: she’d shrunk ‘gainst the wall.
Not even licked once, she set far aside
The frozen yogurt. She heaved out a sigh.
“You speak from the heart. Of love and of passion
For this dairy treat, served in a cold fashion.
Your plight is quite sound. I’m so very sad
This winter has rendered you so very mad.

“But passions are plenty among ponykind
Perhaps you have noticed this passion of mine
To breed plants of magical manifestation.
The everwhite tree is my latest creation,
And one that I opted to share with the nation.”

“But why just that one?” Mango said with a shiver.
“What’s so compelling ‘bout a tree that brews winter?”
Lilligold fell pretty silent at that.
She looked away, petting her mane like a cat.
“The needs of the many. The needs of the few.
Which one weighs more? I ask that of you.
For many long years, Elmshire has suffered
A desolate burden: eternally summered.
The heat was a threat. I answered the call.
Now winter is here. I’m afraid that is all.”

With slack in his jaw, and cold in his brain,
Mango still found the strength to complain.
“I’ve traveled so far. I’ve worked hard and long!
I’ve come too far now to meet my swan song.
My ambition is just. It cannot be wrong…

“Can it?”

“I implore you to stay,” said fair Lilligold.
“Sleep on the thought where it’s cozy, not cold.
I think in the back, twixt soil and pots,
I have what I need to build makeshift cots.
Stay till the morn, and after sunrise
We’ll see if this winter, you still so despise.”
Mango Leaf wanted to speak, but he yawned.
So tired was he, that he could not respond
With anything else but “Fine. I will stay.
“I’ll follow your lead. Please show me the way.”

In the store’s storage room, it took little time
For Lilligold to weave a cot out of vines.
She found him some sheets, then faced him and said,
“Have a good night!” before going to bed
Not knowing the plot that had formed in his head.

***

Just one hour later, a tick past midnight,
Mango could no longer stand the dread sight
Of blizzarding blackness just outside the shop
He slid from his bed and said, “This must stop!
Elmshirites want this? They don’t even know
What they’re missing, dismissing my yummy froyo!
I’ll end this myself! Before break of dawn
Ev’ry last everwhite tree will be gone!”
He borrowed a scarf, set of boots, and a toque,
And went out to end this wintertime fluke.

An everwhite tree stood tall, and quite bright.
‘Twas a mere evergreen whose spines had gone white.
Mango beheld it and smiled quite bold.
“This should be simple, everything told.
I’m Mango Leaf: Master of Magic That’s Cold!”

With a flick of his horn, he invaded the tree,
And dismantled the magic. Internally.
Faster than fast, the everwhite withered.
And all ‘round the block, ‘twas no longer blizzard.
The cold crept away, as though it had never
Been there at all. ‘Twas spring-ishtime weather!
Mango Leaf blinked. “It’s really that easy?
This winter is weaker than even a breezy!
The city’s quite big, but I have lots of time
‘Fore anyone wakes. This season is mine!”

So Mango Leaf went, for hours and hours,
Sapping out ev’ry last everwhite’s powers.
One on each block, and two in town square,
He conquered them all with quite little care,
Restoring the summertime warmth to the air.

It took all night long, right up until eight.
And despite his exhaustion, Mango felt great!
The snow was now quickly succumbing to melt.
No ice underhoof, no chill to be felt.
The horizon grew light. Daybreak would come soon.
And Mango would be there the whole afternoon
In Elmshire Square, shopwagon in tow,
Prepared to deliver his own brand of snow!
His sole motivation. His chilly dessert.
At last he could dole out his frozen yogurt!

As Mango prepared all his treats to be sold,
He couldn’t help but to recall Lilligold.
His heart did a twist. He felt a bit bad.
But then he said, “Sure, I guess she’ll be mad.
But only till she tastes my froyo so rad!”

***

When ponies awoke and greeted the day,
They all looked confused. Confused sans-pareil.
They flooded town square, looking quite like a mob.
And, in total sync, they spat, “We’ve been robbed!
Where is our winter?! Is this some big coup?!
Where are the trees?! And just who are you?!”
With a humbling grin, and his cart open wide,
Mango Leaf shouted, “It’s Froyo Riptide!
I’ve cleaned away winter! Now who will be first
To sample my buffet of frozen yogurts?”

The ponies all roared, and raised their hooves high.
But before they attacked, the duchess arrived.
A phalanx of street guards put halt to the din.
With voice so serene, and mouth lined so thin
The Duchess of Elmshire commanded, “Seize him.”

Mango Leaf paled as the guards all advanced.
Tired as he was, he stood not a chance.
“You don’t understand!” His effort, last-ditch.
“I had to perform this seasonal switch!
I wanted to share my treat so divine!
My frozen yogurt is—”
“Save it, fruit rind,”
Said a guard. “You’re causing a lot of unrest.
By Law of the Duchess, you’re under—”

“Wait!”

The world went silent, and everyone turned
To the voice that every last pony had heard.
‘Twas Lilligold there! She stepped through the crowd
And right past the duchess, who made herself loud,
“Guards! Step away! May her path be allowed!”

The guards cleared away, leaving Mango alone.
As Lilligold neared, his gut turned to stone.
But ‘fore he could speak even one single line
Lilligold said, “One, please. Lemon-lime.
I never did try that dessert yesterday.
Can it be truly as good as you say?
By… killing my trees, you’ve cut me quite deep,
And hurt our fair town by the winter you reaped.
What led you to that, it must be quite nice.
So one yogurt please. Served overtop ice.”

As silence ensued, Mango Leaf stared
Into Lilligold’s eyes, and the hurt that lay there.
A lump in his throat, and guilt in his eyes,
He set slow to work with his froyo supplies.
And when he was done, the silence reprised.

He hoofed her a cup of dessert, yellow-green.
She lifted it up with her magic white sheen.
And with her first bite, she managed a smile.
The first one that Mango had seen in a while.
A smile of someone who, for the first time,
Had tried his dessert, and found it sublime.
Lilligold said, “It’s really quite good.
Quite good indeed. Your plight’s understood.
I’ll speak with the duchess. You will not be chained.
But please.” Her voice cracked. “Don’t come near me again.”

She teared up her eyes, turned tail, and ran,
Once more leaving Mango alone with his stand.
He looked to the crowd, and found only hate.
He looked to the duchess and saw nothing great.
He saw Lilligold, and shouted, “Please wait!”

To his full surprise, the mare really stopped.
Mango picked up the froyo she had dropped.
He tossed it aside to the slush-laden quarry.
He bellowed a cry. He bellowed, “I’m sorry!
There isn’t a treat in the world worth this.
This stunt that I pulled was completely remiss.
It was selfish of me. The only way I could see
To share with this city my froyoing glee.
But my plan was so wrong! Reckless and dumb!
Should’ve left you alone to your wintertime fun.

“If you’ll let me, I would like to help you rebuild
Those everwhite trees. I’ll stay till we’ve filled
This city to bursting with ice and with snow.
It’s the least I can do in an effort to show
My truest remorse for stooping so low.”

A pause. A long pause, where Lilligold stood
With her back facing Mango, which couldn’t be good.
She turned to the duchess and spoke in hushed tones.
Her eyes were not dry. Her words were unknowns.
The duchess replied, with a smile quite clear.
Though that did quite little to bide Mango’s fear.
Lilligold turned with the smallest of sighs
In a voice barely there: “Your insight is wise.
It would be rather nice if you help my trees live.
Indeed, a good step on the road to forgive…

“…ness.”

***

Several weeks later, Mango Leaf found himself on a frosty metal bench in Elmshire’s market district. As far as he could see, he was the only pony not wearing winter clothes. Somehow, that made him smile. He took a bite of agave froyo and looked around.

The everwhite trees were back in full force. He’d never taken the time to appreciate how they gleamed in the sun like great marble spires. They were really quite beautiful, despite the surrounding weather. But even the weather wasn’t so bad. Mango had helped Lilligold refine some of her spellwork to prevent the trees from making it too cold or too windy. It was winter, but it was an optimized winter.

“Aha! There you are!” He turned and saw Lilligold trotting up. She smiled, wearing a full set of pink winter clothes.

“Aw, shoot,” Mango said. “I hate goodbyes.” He smiled anyway.

Lilligold settled in next to him and said, “You’re not getting away that easy!”

“Ha, shoulda figured.” He offered her a spoonful of yogurt. “Agave?”

She took the spoon and wordlessly set it in her mouth. A gentle silence fell between them, broken only by the crunchy hoofsteps of passersby in the snow. Eventually, Lilligold dipped her head and whispered. “I… really feel like I owe you an apology.”

Mango nearly did a spit-take. He chortled and said, “You’re kidding me, right? After everything I did, you owe me an apology? Ha!” When Lilligold’s face remained straight, Mango let his smile fall. “What for?”

“Well…” She looked up at a nearby everwhite. “What you did was certainly wrong, but your heart was in the right place. You just wanted to share your joy with ponies, and you tried to do that the only way you saw how.” She broke her stare and looked Mango in the eyes—something she rarely did. “No matter how misguided your goal, I should’ve recognized your intent. Perhaps my fault was lesser, but… Regardless, I’m sorry.”

“Pfft, you think I’m that sensitive, girl?” Mango waved her off. “Nah. I goofed up big time. Of course, no one’s perfect, so I’ll take that as an apology for not being perfect and we’ll call it even, yeah?”

Despite herself, Lilligold giggled. “You are so strange.”

“Just learning this now?” Mango laughed heartily, and Lilligold joined.. It was quite a peculiar sight: two ponies smiling as they shared frozen yogurt in subzero weather. It was strange, but then so was the city, and so were the ponies.

Lilligold glanced up at the nearest clock tower—just five minutes until Mango left for his train back home. “Well, before we say goodbye,” she said, “I do have one last question.”

“Shoot,” Mango said.

Clearing her throat loudly, Lilligold said:

“Your company’s nice, I quite liked our time.
But why did so much of it happen in rhyme?”

Mango Leaf vs. Lilligold - by Mango Leaf's Author

Welcome to Glimmering Gardens!
At this time, we are:

CLOSED

HOURS OF OPERATION:
Mon-Fri: 9AM-6PM
Sat-Sun: 9AM-1PM
(Closed on Holidays)

He knocked on the door once more, but got the exact same result as before:

The entrance to Glimmering Gardens was still locked, the lights were still off, and the shutters down.

Mango squinted at the sign and looked over to a nearby clocktower. It was already eleven in the morning, and there had been no sign of Lilligold. He had even arrived an hour earlier, thinking that Lilligold would already be hard at work with her flowers, but it appeared that her friend's shop would not be opening its doors at all.

It was even worse because he had the nagging feeling that somepony was inside. Whether it was Lilligold or somepony else was anyone's guess. But whoever it was, they were clearly not answering the door for anypony.

Frowning, Mango looked down at the envelope in his hoof. It was plain white, with Lilligold’s name on it in a stylized golden writing. Gillette had wanted to just mail the invitation and arrange for flowers from home, but Mango had insisted that it'd be much better to talk to his friend in person since he had to go on that route with his Froyo Cart anyway, and after some whining, she had relented.

Now... he wondered if he'd be able to do either. He grimaced, put the invitation in his saddlebag, and started walking away. The nagging feeling returned, and he turned around and looked up at the top of Glimmering Gardens, where one of the curtains had shifted. He caught a glimpse of a silvery mane and smirked.

His horn glowed and an ethereal hoof materialized just outside the window, knocking on it three times before dispersing. "Lilligold! Open up, it's Mango!" he called. "Come on, I know you're in there! Don't you have time for old friends?"

For a moment, he thought she wasn't going to answer, but the windows opened up with a familiar turquoise aura enveloping them. Lilligold leaned out of the window, blinking in the sunlight. "Mango Leaf?" she asked, looking down at the grinning unicorn below. "Is that really you?"

"The one and only!" Mango waved at her. "How about you open the door and we can talk a bit more in person?"

Lilligold hesitated, looking down to her store before taking a deep breath and nodding. "I'll be right there, give me just a minute."

"Sure thing!"

Mango walked up to the door and waited patiently, glancing around the street. Although the outskirts of Elmshire were much more rural-looking than the center of the city would have indicated, it had a slightly medieval charm from its short, stone-made fences and tiny, manicured front lawns. Mango enjoyed the view every time, and although the last hour had mostly inoculated him to the charms of the local houses and shops for the foreseeable future, he still wouldn't deny that it was a very beautiful place.

The door behind him rattled and he could hear the locks slide undone one by one. Just as he turned to face it, the door swung slowly open, just enough for one pony to fit through. Mango did just that.

The first thing he noticed was that the lights were still off, and it took his eyes a moment to adjust from the bright light outside to the gloom inside Glimmering Gardens. When he was finally able to see, he couldn't help but gasp. The place was downright dreary. Where Lilligold's shop had had a vibrant, loving energy before, now that seemed to be gone. There were no plants on display, and the signs above each shelf where potted plants would be simply hung in place as almost ghostly reminders of what had once been there.

"What happened here?" Mango asked, looking at the dusty shelves, the empty pots and the cobweb that stretched from the corner of the cash register to the table. "Lilli this place looks like you abandoned it completely!"

Lilligold shifted in place, refusing to meet his eyes. "I-I just..." She slouched and looked up at him with watery, begging eyes. "S-so, what brings you to Elmshire, M-Mango? I-I thought you had enough fresh spices for your experiments?"

Mango's smile thinned at the obvious change of topic, but indulged her. "Well, I had two things in mind, actually... Uh, well, first of all, here!" He levitated the invitation over to Lilligold.

She smiled a little when she read the contents."You're getting married? That's fantastic! Congratulations, Mango!" Her face immediately fell and her eyes widened. "Oh. Oh no, you... came here to buy flowers from me for your wedding?"

"And to invite you," Mango added. "I was hoping to get a couple of your flowers to make a Family Garden, like the one we talked about all those years ago. You know, the one where we plant a long-lived flower for each family member? Gillette thought it was an amazing idea."

"O-oh," Lilligold visibly tried to smile again. "That's g-great, I'm just not..." She trailed off, looking regretfully at the state of her store. "I just can't."

"Okay."

"Meep!" Lilligold squeaked in surprise and indignation as Mango suddenly levitated her.

She held the wedding invitation to her chest as they made their way upstairs to her home. She glowered at him as he floated her further into the apartment, and she crossed her forelegs defensively when he slowly lowered her onto a chair.

Mango blinked when he noticed her table was covered in crumpled papers and closed notebooks. He knew better than to push his luck and attempt to read anything, but the fact that they were all out and on display like that...

"So... you've been writing much?"

Lilligold looked away and her magic shoved a notebook onto his chest, so suddenly that he barely caught it. "Are you sure you want me to look? I know ho—"

"It's okay," she interrupted.

Shrugging, Mango sat down across from her and opened the notebook. His eyes roamed over the page and then he flipped over to the next, and then the next, a frown slowly deepening. "Um, are you sure you gave me the right one?"

Lilligold nodded.

"But... there's nothing here!"

Lilligold nodded.

"Lilli, what's wrong?" Mango asked, closing the notebook and using his magic to organize the table a little. He could tell some of the crumpled papers had writing on it, so he was careful not to open them or look at their contents if they were exposed.

"Nothing," Lilli answered, carefully placing her wedding invitation on top of the table. "I'm fine."

"Lilligold," Mango sighed. "It's very clear that there is a problem. Why won't you tell me? We've know each other what, five years now? Six?"

When she didn't answer, he reached across the table and placed a hoof on top of hers.

"No flowers? No writing?" Mango shook his head. "That's not normal. It's like Haystacks not being the perfect host. It just doesn't happen."

"Oh," Lilligold perked up. "You saw Haystacks?"

"Don't change the subject," Mango smirked, leaning back. "And yes, I also brought you a picture of him."

Lilligold blushed an adorable, deeper pink. "T-thank you."

"But," Mango continued, "You won't be getting it until you tell me what happened."

Lilligold shot him the dirtiest look she was capable of as she fidgeted in place, clearly struggling with herself. Finally, she let loose a long breath before reluctantly nodding. "Okay," she whispered, before raising her angry eyes to Mango. "But you have to give it to me now," she added with a much stronger voice.

Mango grinned and levitated the picture out, only for Lilligold to snatch it with her own magic and bringing it up to float in front of her. Her hooves came up to her mouth and she whimpered adorably.

"Now, now," Mango chided. "You can have all the time you want with the Haystacks picture, but you did promise that you'd tell me what the problem is."

Lilligold rolled her eyes and stood up, walking into her room for a moment, before returning without the picture. It had been replaced by a magazine, which she dropped on top of the table. Mango blinked and looked down at it, noticing that it had a picture of the front of Glimmering Gardens on the cover.

The title for the cover story read: "The Most Wonderful Flower of All", and Mango quickly found the article itself inside. It took him a few moments to read through and look across the table at Lilli. "This is great! Wow, Lilli, I wish I could get a review like this one on my Froyo!"

"No, you don't," Lilli muttered.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You don't!" Lilligold spoke up, looking up fiercely at Mango. "You don't! I never wanted my store to be famous! I just wanted to grow my beautiful plants and make Equestria a prettier place with them! I used to love helping ponies with their parties and weddings and events but when that—that thing came out, I just was crowded by ponies that didn't care about them! They would only buy the most expensive ones all the time a-and they they would come back and tell me they had let them die and then they would just want more!"

As she spoke, her eyes had slowly started trickling tears. "And that's not the worse thing! I was so distracted I-I just I just couldn't keep track of my own plants and I completely forgot to water and care for my Shimmering Daisies a-and they died!"

She started crying in earnest, sinking down on her seat and burying her head on her crossed forelegs on top of the table.

Mango sat speechless for a few moments before walking around and placing a comforting hoof on her shoulder. "Shh, it's okay Lilli, you—"

"It's not okay!" she retorted, sniffling. "I realized that I had no business growing plants," she said, sniffling. "Anypony that knows how to take care of them wouldn't have let it happen!"

"Come on, Lillli," Mango insisted, "You were just overworked, it can happen to anypony."

"If I was better at what I do it wouldn't have happened!" Lilligold retorted. "I was wrong! I have no talent for this!"

Mango grimaced before an I idea formed in his mind. He gently prodded her until she stood up. "Come on, Lilli, let's take a walk, I’ll make you some froyo, and we won’t have to think about this for a while, okay?"

Lilligold gave him a curious look, but nodded, using the back of her hoof to dry her eyes. "S-sure, just let me clean up," she said, heading to the restroom.

Mango nodded, walking to the window and looking outside as he tried to figure out how to get his idea to work.

"So you're trying to figure out new flavors for Froyo?" Lilligold asked, tilting her head to look at Mango, who nodded.

The walk to the open market was already having an effect on Lilli; she seemed more energized, and her drooping slouch slowly returned to her natural, relaxed look. She wasn't flinching so consistently, nor had she stammered again or burst into tears. Just as Mango had expected, she had desperately needed to get out into the sunlight.

"Just like a flower," he whispered.

"What was that?"

"Oh, sorry, I was just thinking aloud... but the answer to your question is yes. I feel like I've gotten a bit complacent with the flavors I have in stock, so I'm thinking maybe other edible toppings that I haven't used before could work!"

He gazed at the market, with a very attentive Lilligold clinging to his words with more and more interest as he talked about his favorite topic, all signs of her earlier depression slowly fading away as she got infected by his enthusiasm.

"Imagine all the flavors we could discover just in there! Ingredients I never thought about! Combinations that will create that umami that confounds the senses and yet makes us want more! Or a mixture of spices that will bring out the sweetness of other ingredients that I already use!" He grinned, bumping shoulders with Lilligold. "Imagine the faces of ponies when they discover cold foods that surprise them with unknown, delicious flavors and leave them speechless!"

Lilligold giggled. "You are too much, Mango."

Mango Leaf's grin didn't diminish. "It's my passion! There's nothing else I'd rather do. Even if my cutie mark changed magically into something different, I'd never stop loving this!"

"Hm," Lilligold nodded. Mango could imagine her mind working on possibilities as her imagination fueled possible flavors and presentations. Just the act of thinking about something slightly challenging had her already trotting around with new vigor. "What toppings are we talking about here?"

Mango hummed. "Well, the one thing I've never seen done is adding flowers to Froyo. Most of the time it's fruits and even vegetables, or some sort of candy... but why not add some of our traditional foods to it? Besides it tasting delicious, I'm sure the look of the finished product would be very original!"

"Ooh! I like that!" Lilligold tittered. "I wish I had brought my notebook to write down ideas! Are you going to use spells on the ingredients too?"

Mango nodded. "Well, yes, some of the ideas I had were flowers... and for them to look good and keep their taste profile and their texture, I would definitely need to develop some spells... I'm not very good with those, but I imagine one of the spells for conserving fruits should work just fine."

"Oh no, you don't!" Lilligold gasped. "That would be a terrible idea!" Her head whipped around, looking among the vendors until she saw a scroll maker. Without even pausing, she levitated a scroll and a pencil and dropped a few bits on the vendor's table. Immediately she started scribbling down notes and comparison charts.

"Petals are very delicate! If you use anything, it would have to be something like the spell you used to keep that vanilla cloud from dispersing!" Already she had a formula slowly evolving on the scroll, and she made corrections on it as she spoke. "The problem is going to be the texture, as I'm sure you would know!"

The pair paused next to a wall where she displayed her calculations. "The cold would wilt them and the yogurt would make them too soggy. We need to combine the cloud spell with something that will basically repel the other elements from affecting it until it's being chewed on!"

"I see... so, would I use the same spell if I used daisies or rose petals?"

"The rose petals are a bit more resistant to the cold, so the spell for daisies would be perfect for either, however you wouldn't want to use the same strength for cherry blossoms, those would need a stronger protection to keep consistency all through the experience."

By then they had arrived at a stall with several consumable flowers and the pair appraised them briefly. "So, what should I look for when I buy them as ingredients?" Mango asked.

"The color, of course. The more vibrant the better... make sure to check the tips of the petals for any sign of wilting... it doesn't mean it will taste bad but it will definitely give you a good idea of how long you have before it's too late to use them." Lilligold started writing what she said on the scroll.

"I'll give you the scroll so you can get the spell and the tips more easily," she muttered as she wrote. "Make sure to ask where they originate from and what sort of earth was used when planting them. You might not think it but flowers can be a bit more bitter or sweet depending on whether they were found in the wild or what kind of fertilizer was used on them."

Mango chuckled. "Well, I'm glad I came to the Equestrian authority on Botanical Cuisine!"

Lilligold blushed. "Oh, you know I'm not the Equestrian authority it's just my..." She trailed off, looking back at the flowers on display. "My passion."

"And that is what makes you the authority on it." Mango smiled.

Lilligold shook her head, looking from the flowers to her notes to Mango. "Don't push it mister. I know what you did."

Mango chuckled, but didn't deny anything.

Lilligold took a deep breath, and looked at the flowers. "I just... don't know if I could handle it if it happened again."

"You can," Mango said nudging her so that they could continue walking. "You just weren't expecting it. Anypony can get overwhelmed, right?"

Lilligold giggled. "They can. Yes. Just like that one time when—"

"Hey," Mango interrupted, pretending and failing to look serious. "If you're thinking about the time I think you're thinking about, remember we promised to never talk about it again."

Lilligold grinned. "Spinach."

"Hey!"

Mango Leaf levitated the last pot into place and stepped back, overlooking their work. The dust had been swept away, the counters cleaned, and every pot had been filled with new rich earth and a seed planted by Lilligold herself.

"This is looking a lot better!" he called out, turning to Lilli, who was just in the process of pulling up the curtains to let the sunlight in. "You'll be back on track in no time at all."

Lilligold walked up to him and took a look around sighing in content. "Yes. A bit of time and magic... but I'll definitely have the flowers for your wedding."

Mango's smile couldn't be bigger. "I look forward to seeing you there, and thank you, I couldn't think of anypony else to ask for such a thing."

Lilligold's laugh was almost an additional ray of sunshine. "Oh Mango, never change."

Mango pulled Lilligold into a hug and hoof bumped her before heading to the door. Once he reached it he stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Oh, and by the way, I'm not the only one looking forward to seeing you there."

Lilligold rolled her eyes. "You already told me Gillette wanted to meet me. She sounds like a wonderful mare, Mango. I'm sure we'll be good friends too."

Mango's smile turned into a smirk. "Oh, I have no doubt. But I wasn't talking about her. I did mention you to Haystacks, you know?"

He watched in satisfaction as Lilligold's eyes widened.

"I even showed him a picture. He think's you're cu—"

"Okay! Okay! I'll be there, but for the love of Celestia please stop teasing me!"

Mango winked. "Never."

The End