Borrowed Time

Chapters

Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Recap with DIscord - Guest Chapter
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 1
Chapter 6
Chapter 16
Chapter 41

Chapter 2

It had been a tumultuous couple of weeks for Spike the dragon. A fugitive from Tartarus had nearly stolen all the magic in Equestria, a ginormous castle had sprung up from nowhere, and Ponyville was… not much really had changed, had it?

Billions of bits in lost productivity, widespread damage, and a national panic one week, and the next week Equestria bounces back. You’ve gotta wonder how it does that, Spike thought as he followed Twilight, checking off each book as she reshelved some “light reading”. So far the princess had been her new library’s only patron—yet another point that had changed little from before. Rejecting the royal suite of the element of magic, she had habitually taken up residence in the small bedroom above the ninth floor library.

“Come on, Twilight, are you sure you don’t want the royal suite instead? It has a hot tub for pony’s sake!” Spike said, “A hot tub!

Twilight stopped and turned her head, saying with a twinge of annoyance, “No, Spike, we’re the only ones here, so this makes the most sense. It wouldn’t be very efficient for you to walk back and forth every morning; that would take approximately four minutes and twenty seconds out of our schedule daily. That’s nearly a day wasted every year!”

“But you already have to teleport your friends up here every time they visit, so why can’t you just poof me back and forth?”

Twilight gave a sheepish look before recapturing her stern elder sister face. “No, Spike, as long as it’s just the three of us, this is what works best. Besides, I can’t occupy the chamber of the element of magic when the others are vacant; it’d be completely asymmetrical.”

Spike raised a pointed finger to argue.

“Besides, if we start living on the thirteenth floor, that would mean twice as much cleaning for you.”

He lowered his claw.

“I mean, this really is too much space,” Twilight said as she took wing to shelf a book on the second floor. “Servants’ chambers, multiple kitchens, a guard barracks — I can understand why Princess Celestia would need those things, but she’s ruling all of Equestria. But I’m still trying to find my new role in Ponyville, a village this palace could probably house all on its own.”

She had been bringing up her princess status a lot lately. It seemed strange to him that she had, in a few short weeks, gone from worrying about her title being in name only to fretting about the grand scale of her personal Castle of Friendship. All her ascension had meant to him was that he no longer had to worry about filing Her Highness’s taxes. And thank Celestia for that! He certainly didn’t fancy the prospect of digging through the Equestrian tax code for the subsection involving self-assembling magical buildings from an ancient chest erected on city land.

“Didn’t you sing a song about this already?” Spike answered. “You know, it will just take some time, or something?”

The alicorn fluttered down to eye level and stroked his back with a wing. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Still, things were easier when Princess Celestia would just tell me what to do next.

As if hearing her, his stomach met her declaration with a familiar sensation of indigestion as Spike let loose an involuntary puff of dragon breath, which unfurled into a scroll.

“A letter from Princess Celestia! Maybe it’s a surprise homework assignment!”

Spike groaned. “She can’t exactly give you homework if you’re not her student anymore.”

Twilight’s broad smile dipped only a little. “You never know, right? Maybe it’s an early birthday present!”

Twilight covered her mouth, and they both froze in place, glancing to the right and left to scrutinize every illogical place Pinkie could spring from. While Pinkie had thwarted most empirical analysis, Twilight had recently managed to quantify the probability of certain words and phrases summoning her. Naturally, ‘birthday present’ had been near the top of the list.

The coast clear, Spike cleared his throat and unfurled the scroll.

“But wait—Princess Celestia hardly ever sends me letters anymore,” Twilight said, ducking into a dead end path between shelves. “Is all of Equestria in danger?” Her expression hardened, and he saw the gears turning in her head. She froze suddenly and her wings briefly spasmed as her expression changed once more. “She told me before my greatest test was yet to come. What if she meant that literally!? What if this is a pop quiz!?

“Twilight—”

Twilight settled into nervously pacing, the echoes of her hoofsteps building on one another, dancing in and out of sync. Her mane slowly took on the frazzled quality he was all too familiar with.
“The last one was a practical test, and I know I did great, but what if she follows it up with a comprehensive written exam to test my diligence? Oh no, I need to reread all my old friendship reports” her horn glowed and dozens of scrolls and a familiar journal scattered in front of her.

“Twilight—”

“But wait, it’s been three months since I last reread Helping Hoof’s nine-volume treatise on friendship. What if there’s something I’ve forgotten!”

“Twilight!” Spike shouted, causing her to grind to a halt. He could smell a smoldering ash scent from the trail of gray smoke rising from the scorch marks. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

Twilight opened her mouth to retort, but decided against it. A second later, she blushed and turned her head slightly away. “I suppose you’re right.”

Spike smiled.

“After all, the abridged seven volume set covers everything important,” she said, levitating a set of yellow volumes into a pile taller than she was. “I guess I was freaking out. Thanks, Spike!”

Baby steps, Spike. Baby steps, he consoled himself.

“Can I just read the letter now?” the young dragon finally asked after an awkward silence.

“Go ahead.”

“Ahem. Dear, Twilight Sparkle: We humbly request your presence at once. Exhausted and ragged, our sister has requested your immediate presence for a matter she deems critical to the future of Equestria. I have dispatched my personal chariot to the rooftop terrace of your castle. Use it if you wish, but speak of this matter to nopony.

~~Princess of the Night and Stars~~
~~Stewardess of Dreams~~
~~High Priestess of the Tides~~
~~Third Team all-Equest~~
-Princess Luna

Twilight started freaking out again. “The princess!”

Spike belched once more and took in claw the small scrap of paper.

"P.S.

Our humblest apologies. Our sister hath informed us that I have neglected to mention that she is quite fine. She ax you bear in mind the “Smarty Pants Incident” and remain calm.”

Spike wondered to himself if the princess was psychic before a familiar magic surrounded him. With a pop Twilight and Spike teleported to the top of the castle, and he immediately spotted the thestral-pulled chariot descending.

Luna’s guards, like Celestia’s would do, bowed deeply to Twilight before pausing to mentally debate Spike’s status among themselves. It seemed like nopony knew what to make of Spike’s status these days. Was he a fellow vassal as the number-one assistant to a Princess? Or was he nobility by virtue of association? Or maybe he was the coolest dragon in all of Equestria? Only the last one was known for sure.

In any case, this pair of ponies elected for a halfway compromise bow to the drakeling. Spike could definitely see why Twilight was tempted to decree against bowing to her. He was the same Spike he was before, why did ponies need to start bowing to them?

He let that worry drift away as the chariot lifted off the ground and began picking up speed. It was smaller than Celestia’s model, but the two of them had more than enough room. By now, Spike was well-accustomed to the flight between Ponyville and Canterlot, but rarely did he have the time to himself; normally, he would be working on a last minute checklist of some sort, but this time, Twilight was lost in thought while fidgeting with her hooves.

Spike watched the ground below him race by. Either Luna’s bat ponies were faster flyers, or today did hold some kind of special urgency. However, watching it too long made Spike dizzy, so he turned his attention forward. In no time at all, Canterlot castle came into view as they began their rapid descent.

They landed in an open space in the garden just outside the maze. Princess Luna was there, waiting by herself for them. Spike and Twilight disembarked, Luna gave a small smile and dismissed the saluting guards who pulled the chariot.

“Thank you for responding to our summons so quickly, Princess Twilight Sparkle.”

“Hello, Princess Luna,” Twilight said. “What’s wrong with Princess Celestia? Is she okay?”

“At ease, Princess Twilight Sparkle,” the lunar monarch responded. It would appear that I was overzealous in my concern. It appears she suffers from not more than magical exhaustion.”

“That’s a relief,” Twilight said, briefly relaxing.

“Wait, magical exhaustion? As in Princess Celestia running out of mana? What could do that to her?”

“Follow me.” Luna turned around. “This is all I can say for fear of eavesdropping.”

The three of them walked in silence, save for the clinking of armor and the scurrying of various maids and couriers. Spike knew the castle fairly well by now and wondered to himself why Princess Luna was taking the long way. However, he knew better than to question it. After all, he didn’t want to anger her and be solely responsible for the return of Nightmare Moon. He attempted make a silent query to Twilight, but she was occupied with something else.

“So, how have you been, Prin—uhh, Luna?”

“It… matters are improving,” Luna answered stiffly. “While most of our subjects have forgotten my history, the fact is that my sister has ruled alone for a thousand years. Though they dispute not our equal status, they yet defer all important manners to her.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will get better… Princess,” Twilight assured her. “A generation of foals will grow up knowing you protect them from nightmares.”

“We suppose…”

Spike and the two princesses walked up a winding staircase without a word. The silence was overpowering, bringing every hoof beat to his attention; it was as if both ponies were holding their breath.

“We haven’t talked much have we?” Twilight finally asked.

“Nay… we have not.”

“I’m sorry, Luna. I should have reached out to you earlier. We should know each other better, especially now that we’re seeing each other a lot more. I just… well now that we’re both princesses it feels like it’s different… and..”

Luna stopped, faced her and smiled. “I can certainly empathize. It is as if I had just accepted you as a friend, not a subject, and now, you are an equal, and a friend, and I knew not how to address that. Truthfully, the proper etiquette is beyond our—err... my experience.”

“This is rather silly isn’t it?” Twilight asked.

“Quite,” said Luna.

“Well, I want to be your friend, what about you?”

Luna beamed. “Fain. Perhaps when this matter is settled we could once more partake in ‘fun?’”

“I’d love to.”

Spike, fed up with being ignored in favor of the sappiness, interjected, “But isn’t this matter that could affect all Equestria something really bad that needs to be taken care of?”

“That remains to be seen,” said Luna. “I for one, believe it could be a boon to us all.”

Spike could see Twilight had three questions ready to fire, but a pegasus guard pre-empted her, handing off a heart-sealed pink letter to the night princess.

She looked it over and said, “I see. Princess Cadance is unable to make it. It would seem likely our sister neglected to mention her condition in this correspondence…” She turned to Twilight and Spike. “We must not dally any longer. Come.”

Luna took wing, and Spike hopped on Twilight’s back to follow her. In no time at all, they were before an opulent set of gold-trimmed white double-doors.

“Our sister’s private chamber, as you know. We should warn thee, though: while what we are about to discuss may be profound, we implore thee to keep in mind our sister’s actual frailty.”

They nodded and Luna knocked once with her magic.

“Luna, is that you?” asked Celestia in a raspy voice.

Luna cracked open the doors. “As requested, I have brought Twilight Sparkle and her ‘number-one assistant.’ Princess Cadance hast declined thine invitation. Shall I reiterate our request for her attendance?”

“No, Luna. I don’t want to worry her. Besides, the two of them more than deserve their honeymoon to themselves; they’ve waited long enough.”

“Very well. We shall enter now,” she said, slowly pushing the door open.

Celestia sat perched on a nest of pillows that blended into her coat. She wore none of her usual regalia, and looked clearly exhausted. Spike didn’t know if he was supposed to look away or what. She looked like a normal pony, vulnerable.

“Princess Celestia! Are you all right?” Twilight cried, rushing to her mentor’s side.

“I am fine, Twilight. Thank you for your concern.”

“What happened?”

“You could say I got carried away…” Celestia said, looking away.

Meanwhile, Spike was already prodding the golden barrier surrounding Celestia’s bed. While mostly opaque, he could almost see inside by putting his eye to the surface.

“Hey, doesn’t this look like one of those humans from the other world?” he asked.

“Really!?” Twilight said rushing to the barrier. “You’re right. But why is he still a human. Shouldn’t he have become a pony if he came here through the mirror?”

“Yes,” Luna said, “I believe you owe me that explanation as well.”

Celestia levitated a pillow below her chin and began, “Centuries ago, that mirror was but one of many similar models created using a principle devised by Star Swirl the Bearded.”

This clearly excited Twilight, but she restrained herself and waited for Celestia to continue.

“Much like you did, I traveled between worlds. It was a stimulating diversion when the stresses of our early reign became overwhelming. And there were other things that… caught my fancy. At any rate, I am in possession of an artifact that allows scrying into other dimensions. It was a distraction I had left behind me—at least, until last night.”

“The mirror you used, Twilight, was a special case,” Luna explained. “It has built-in mechanisms for transforming species into their logical equivalents. While this is highly useful for maintaining surreptitiousness while traveling, it is even more to the benefit of those traveling to Equestria.”

Celestia started to look guilty. “What you might not have noticed is that the magical signatures of extra-dimensional species—even those with knowledge of magic—are often completely random and nonsensical.”

“Now that you mention it,” Twilight said, “I never thought to read the signatures of Canterlot High’s inhabitants.”

“As you will see, this becomes an issue when I see suffering in other worlds. I’ve spent countless hours in front of that mirror during hard times, so naturally, I would witness inevitable tragedy about to fall upon some. Unfortunately, there’s usually no way to reach them with the mirror portal with its useful conversion properties. Nevertheless, Luna and I have saved upwards of a hundred different beings from agony or imminent death over the years. But when we brought them here with a long-range teleportation spell, Equestria’s natural harmony transforms them according to their magical signature. Essentially it sees them as the victim of a botched transformative spell and morphs them, ironically, into the closest Equestrian equivalent of their distinctive magical signature.” Celestia smiled in remembrance. “One of them lived a long, happy life as queen of the minotaurs.”

Luna scowled. “However, those that were happy were a minority. Before we had the sense to check the signature, most beings we saved ended up as plants, or domestic beasts at best. Even when we revised our approach, most were dissatisfied with what they became, finding their new forms displeasing, if not offensive. Camicaze the Conqueror was one such case, and even in a thousand years, the Breezies have not recovered from his tyranny” She shot a judgmental look at Celestia. “Unable to resist helping those in need when we saw them, we agreed never to use the scrying mirror again.”

“Yes…” Celestia said, averting her gaze. “At any rate, it may be possible to send this boy back. For the moment, my absolute containment field is holding, but we need to work out a solution as quickly as possible, for we cannot leave him safely in stasis for much longer.”

Twilight pressed her muzzle up against the golden bubble again. “Yes, he does remind me of the boys in Canterlot High, but he’s small enough to be the little brother of one of the girls, but those muscles are completely out of place. “Why did you bring him here, Pr—Celestia?”

Celestia closed her eyes and exhaled. “I was under pressure, and I may have made a mistake. He was about to be killed after sacrificing himself for another, and his magical signature gave him... a better future here than most others.”

“I don’t understand,” Spike said. “What’s the problem, then?”

“Well, Spike, in fairness to him, we want to offer him as many choices as we can. If we can get him home before the changes take root, we are obligated to offer that option to him. Or, if we can stall the changes to ultimately make him more comfortable, that would also be desirable.”

Luna turned to the bed. “Though I feel she would be happiest here, it is through the virtue of my sister’s benevolence that she is offered these options.”

“How long does he have once the field wears off?” Twilight asked.

Celestia smiled. “Actually, my dear student, I was hoping you could tell me.”

Twilight perked up at the challenge. “Well, I have studied harmonic equilibrium, but nopony has been able to reliably model it yet.”

“I know you can do it, Twilight. You have at least a month to work on it before the clock starts ticking.”

“But…”

“It doesn’t have to be perfect, and every bit you learn helps.”

“Princess, this is fascinating, but shouldn’t I be concentrating on more princessy stuff now?”

There was a glint in Celestia’s eyes as her smile widened. “This matter is actually very ‘princessy.’ It’s a task that can shape Equestria’s future.” She paused until the weight of her words sunk in. “Besides, I summoned somepony to help whom you might be familiar with. Giants’ Withers, if you would…”

Luna shared the conspiratorial smile, while Twilight’s jaw dropped. An elderly unicorn mare slowly limped into the room. Her gray mane had just begun to turn white, falling over her face in short locks, while her faded silver coat had clearly seen better days. Though she didn’t look very impressive to Spike, Twilight instantly flapped her wings to hover over to her.

“You’re, Dr. Withers!?”

“Yes?”

“The real, Professor Dr. Giants’ Withers?”

“Yes, if memory still serves that is. And you must be—”

“Twilight Sparkle—Princess Twilight Sparkle, but maybe I shouldn’t call myself princess because you already knew that, because of the wings and everything, and IamsuchaHugeFAN! You’re my favorite scientist ever. Well, except if you count Star Swirl the bearded, but he didn’t call himself a scientist—I’m not sure if scientists had been invented yet, but that’s not any slight against you—you’re top two, top three easily!”

“Huh,” the mare said, momentarily forgetting to blink.

“Your frogs to oranges experiment was brilliant! I’ve actually tried to repeat it myself, but my results were never as good!”

“Yep, took me eleven tries to get my data to fall nicely on the curve. The data was noisy, but I had my hunch and pushed through.”

“Ooh! You’re even more amazing in pony!” The fanfilly alicorn summoned a pile of papers to her side. “Would you sign my copy of your meta-analysis on the material properties of harmonically decaying magical constructs?”

“What now? You want my autograph? But you’re a princess…”

“You’re right! We’ll have a lot of time together to sort that out now that we’re working together. Let me show you my old lab!”

With a flash of light, Twilight and the visiting professor vanished. Spike was still a couple seconds behind processing Twilight’s rapid-fire comments. Grounding himself back in the moment, he realized something.

“Umm, Princess Celestia?”

“Yes, My Little Dragon?”

“You weren’t done, were you?”

“Exactly right. I still have yet to explain why this is a matter that will affect all of Equestria.”

Luna approached Spike with a small fragment of parchment. “I’ve summarized the main details in this note if you want to pass it along,” she said, extending it to him.

“But I have no idea where Twilight went. She was so hyped-up she could have shown her around half of Ponyville by now.”

“Quite a vexing problem,” Celestia said, not bothering to hide a playful smirk. “If only there were a way to remotely send pieces of paper to far away ponies.”

Spike facepalmed. “I gotcha I gotcha,” he mumbled before exhaling his magical flames.

“What now, Tia?” asked Luna. “Do we wait for Twilight Sparkle?”

Celestia laid her head down on the nearest pillow. “Five... Four... Three... Two... One,” she counted down, not once looking up.

“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?” Twilight shouted, reappearing in Celestia’s bedroom. “Why on Equestria would you want to prevent this? This is great!”

“Twilight—”

“An alicorn filly?! That would mean a new princess!”

“Twilight,” Celestia said weakly, resigned to letting her finish.

“This is amazing! She can grow up in the castle around you and Luna, read in the library everyday after school, have the best foalsitter ever, Princess Cadance! And I can teach her magic; that’s even better! Do you have a name picked out? But I suppose he already has one...”

“And therein lies the problem, Twilight Sparkle. He hadst his own life before coming here. Those experiences thou hast just described are essentially thine own foalhood, are they not?”

Twilight nodded weakly.

“Don’t feel bad, Twilight. It is natural that you would defend a destiny akin to your own. However, this boy is not you. And we should respect his wishes if we can; after all, he did not ask to be brought here.”

“Right. I guess I got a bit too excited…”

“Hardly the first time today,” Spike snarked, earning a glare from the blushing Princess of Friendship.

Celestia stood upright and stretched.

“Well, I don’t make it a habit to kick ponies out, but I think the Sun will hit the hay now,” she said, yawning. “And then I’ll follow its example. I’ve already exerted myself more than Luna would have liked today, and I fear if you keep me from rest any longer Luna might chase you out with the royal battleaxe.”

“We have no such thing!” Luna said, pouting. “... Anymore.”

Twilight giggled. "Actually, Celestia, there is one thing: Luna mentioned in the letter to not speak of this to anypony. But I’m not sure if it’s right for me to keep this from my friends, given what I represent. The strength of the Friendship Rainbow Kingdom comes from all of us, so I’d like to discuss this with all of them.”

“I understand this, Twilight. It is commendable that you want to be honest and forthright with your friends, but when it comes to secrets of national importance, I have my reservations. I fear if you told Pinkie Pie, she would be… less than subtle.

“Yeah,” said Twilight, “I guess she would probably throw a ‘welcome new extradimensional princess’ party. But I would like to at least ask Applejack what she would do.”

“I will defer to your judgment. Just promise me you’ll handle the knowledge; it could cause a riot if made public.”

“Cross my heart and hope to fly. Stick a cupcake in my eye,” Twilight recited, going through the motions.

“Where is this cupcake you speak of?” Luna asked, confused.

“Oh, that’s a Pinkie Promise,” Spike explained. “You never want to break a Pinkie Promise. As she says, breaking a promise is the fastest way to lose a friend.”

“FOREVER!”

The four of them turned to the source of the noise to find Pinkie Pie herself erupting from the pile of pillows.

“Hi, Twilight. Hi, Princess. Hi, Princess. Hi, Spike. Why are you whispering all dramatic-like,” she said before suddenly taking notice of the bed’s golden barrier. “Oooh! Is this the new princess. That’s strange. He doesn’t look like a princess. And besides how can a colt be a princess? That’s silly!”

The four of them shared a look of stunned silence.

“Perhaps we are... misappropriating her talents,” said Luna.

Author's Note

Special thanks to Boldish42 for editing and for listening to my crazy ideas.

Chapter 3 Author's Note

Thanks for the enthusiastic response!

This chapter was originally tacked onto the end of chapter 2, but on reflection, I thought it conflicted with the mood too much.

After the staggering reception the story got, however, I felt obliged to show my hand. Here goes!

Chapter 3

All stood at attention as our instructor stepped into the classroom. A bearded, long-haired man of sixty, Lt. Davies had an aura that demanded respect. Few cadets liked him—if a few hushed complaints in close-knit conversations could be extrapolated. After all, few were foolish enough to risk a demerit.

The room was adjacent to the practice gym, where we had just been. Prior exertion, combined with the summer sun beating down on the concrete floor, meant most of us were sweating heavily. Nonetheless, we stiffened our bodies and erased any signs of discomfort, saluting methodically as Lieutenant Davies passed through each row in a circuitous path to the front of the room.

Though I—a three inch-tall pony—was one of the tallest boys in the class, this short man still towered over me. As he passed, I raised my left hoof to my forehead, finding it difficult to get my bunched-up fingers into position. Fortunately, it seemed he had missed my botched salute.

After a tense minute and a half, our teacher came to a sudden stop at the front room, facing the blackboard. Suddenly, he turned on a dime and stamped his foot, commanding, “At ease, cadets!” As if a wave was rippling through the room, the class of sixty took their seats row-by-row, and he began:

“With the completion of yesterday’s practical, you should now all be thoroughly versed in channeling our planet’s energy. If by chance you are still uncomfortable, then you should be well prepared to be made mincemeat of on the practice floor.” He cleared his throat and scanned the room for the slightest sign of inattention. “Three days from now, your first official training matches will commence. These will be the backbone of your education for the next four years. Proving your mastery of geomancy through them could grant you a starting rank of sergeant or higher. Consequently, let me make myself clear: Under no circumstance will you hold back. Yes, you will be fighting your friends and brothers, but the enemy will not hold back, so neither should you! Is that understood!?”

“Yes, Sir!” the chorus of students rang out.

“Now, before we move on to combat applications of geomancy, it is imperative that you understand the nature of this conflict, the only reason you are sitting before me at this moment. After all, a soldier is not the weapon in his hand; rather, they are defined by what they protect, the ideals they uphold.”

I was excited; it wasn’t very often we would get a history lesson. Without turning my head, I was able to clearly see the reactions of my neighbors: Jerich to my left looked moved, while Marcia to my right probably thought the lieutenant was getting too full of himself again.

“Following the depletion of Rhod’s eponymous rhodium veins, our people were released from the shackles of slavery, and the world was placed under probation by the powers that govern this corner of space. Little knowledge of them remains; our entire understanding of them hinges on rumors passed down and what we can gather from the Arbiters’ Accords. Still, it is clear we were allowed to rebuild with the promise of eventually rejoining the community as equals rather than spoils of war. And in a few short centuries we had gone from what was essentially a blank slate technologically to early industrialization—that is, until they showed up.

I had to quickly stop myself from pouting; I knew exactly where this was going

“Those wild animals, suddenly awakened from their extended hibernation and wasted no time in making enemies of us. With little warning—other than tree-hugging nonsense about unsustainable practices—they began their campaign of sabotage: destroying our factories, razing our crops, caving in our mines…” Davies paused and looked over the class, his eyes shining with conviction. “This is what this is all about, cadets. We have a great dream—rebuild our culture and one day rejoin the rest of humanity in the stars—but these rabid things tell us we should be content to live in the dirt with them, never aspiring for more. “We are fighting for our right to exist! Do you understand!? To abandon progress, to abandon innovation, is to abandon being human. Rhod itself is but a means to an end. We’ll use it as we please, for this is our planet!”

“This is our planet, sir,” we boomed, echoing the slogan. However, I was a little late to respond for some reason; something just felt... off.

“They are but barbarians who seek to destroy all we have strived for! However, we would be fools not to recognize their advantages. Who can tell me what those are?”

We were silent, for he had not given anyone explicit permission to speak.

The lieutenant looked almost disappointed nobody had taken the bait. “How about you, Liu?” he said.

A dark-skinned girl of ten stood up at the front of the class and recited, “Their magic aptitude is better than ours, allowing for combination spells; their stamina is greater, limiting how long we can melee with them; and they require fewer resources to sustain due to their metabolism, rendering them hardy against attacks on their supply lines.”

“Very good. You may sit,” Davies said.

It had been a textbook answer—as in literally every word had been pulled directly from the text. Liu’s fantastic memory and overall toughness had put her at top of the class despite having joined only a few months prior. Lacking the magical ability most girls were gifted with, she had been reassigned to a career path on the frontlines. Those boys who didn’t resent her for her talent found themselves eerily drawn to her lithe body and sharp wit, myself among them. She made our hearts pound in a way we didn’t understand yet.

Come to think of it, I thought, that’s kind of weird, since I’m clearly a filly.

For a brief moment the whole scenario started to come undone at the seams.

What am I doing among a bunch of preteens? I’m just a foal.

None of it made sense, actually. Where was my mom, anyway?

But in any case, it was a matter of no importance. I was clearly a student here, so there was no point in questioning it; after all, nobody else found it weird. Realizing I had spaced out, I hopped onto the surface of my desk and crawled forward to get a better view of the instructor.

Davies still in the midst of his morale lecture: the bearmen were wicked, while we were brave, industrious fighters; we will prevail because it is our home, our planet; and one day we will beat them all the way back to their capital of Lifesberth. Thinking on it for a moment, I realized that the second point no longer made sense. We had just learned that they had been hibernating possibly before we had even settled the planet, yet he treated the matter of ownership as if it was obvious. Since the topic of the lecture was ethics, I thought it might even come up on the test.

“Now is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir!” we parroted.

“Questions?” Usually this would be met with silence and prompt dismissal, but today I raised my hoof.

“Yes?” The lieutenant seemed almost stunned.

“I know we always say Rhod is ours and the bearmen are the enemy, but you said they were hibernating for a really long time. Because I guess they were here first, why don’t they have any stake?” It was a good question. It would clarify parts of the lesson, and I was genuinely curious why dibs did not apply to the enemy.

“What do you mean?”

The lieutenant’s scowl drove those words right through me. My hooves started shaking as I stammered out, “Well, if I lost my dog… I’d want it returned—not that I’m saying we should give up the fight—more what I mean is shar—share… like a compromise…Not that we should c—compromise anything in our efforts, but why is it obvious—”

“Oh, now?” he said with disgust, taking several large strides towards me. “You’re saying you find a stray dog that is untrained, underfed and unkempt. And you spend a century training it into a loyal companion, nourishing it with the fruits of your labor and grooming it with meticulous care—and you say you would just give it back!?” He glowered at me. Standing at four-foot seven, to a child he may as well have been a giant.

“No, I sai—I wanted to say—”

“And what is this dreck about “sharing”. Did nothing I say penetrate your puerile skull!? They are the enemy—savages! We can no more share a planet with them than your dog could have two masters.. It is us! or them! Is that clear!?”

I hastily nodded before giving up and curling into a ball, sobbing. Tears stained my thin fur as it tickled my nose, like a bunch of soggy cotton tips. The insults and the dismemberment of my question continued. I was no match for an adult’s intellect; all I could do was wait for the storm to end.

The word treason had been uttered for the third time by the time I dared lift my tiny head again. Surprisingly, not only had Lt. Davies’s tirade stopped but he was seemingly frozen mid-syllable. I saw color slowly leave his face and the surroundings. This was followed by the rest of the room, the students, the bamboo desks. When everything had turned gray, the room fizzled and disappeared, taking even the concrete floor and its radiated summer heat with it.

“It is but a nightmare, young foal. Thou mayest now be at peace,” came a serene voice.
A colossal, midnight-blue horse materialized into view in a puff of white energy. I had seen similar creatures ridden by great heroes in historic images, but nevertheless, I was in awe of its sheer size, easily a head taller than the largest adult I knew. It could crush me with a single misplaced step, yet I felt strangely calm.

She continued speaking in a refined, feminine manner, but the words didn’t register, as my eye was drawn irresistibly to her forehead. Scrutinizing the long horn atop her head, I raised a hoof to my own forehead, feeling for a bump I knew was there. My attraction to her wings was even stronger; I found myself wondering what it would be like to be wrapped in them.

My stomach suddenly rumbled, and I looked to her. I thought perhaps this creature would be able take care of me. But it really was weird to think that; in fact, all of my thoughts were getting messed up. I was pretty sure I wasn’t a filly. She said it was a dream, but that’s the one thing people in dreams will never tell you.

Suddenly I felt my hooves lose their grip on the ground and gravity seemed to relax. I started to hover, ensconced by a bluish aura. I was confused and panicking, though comfort simultaneously washed through me.

Is she doing something to me? Why do I—

She opened her mouth to flash a set of herbivore teeth at me, her tongue reaching out towards my face. Sudden, rational fear took over, and a sense of helplessness gripped my heart, I could only clamp my eyes shut and prepare to be eaten.

With my heart pounding, I jolted awake. Finding myself in a finely-made but unknown bed, I exhaled in relief.

Ten years later and I still dream about that day, huh? I thought to myself.

It had easily been the worst day of my life. For borderline treasonous comments, I had been suspended for an entire week, sullying my family’s nigh-perfect reputation. And my parent-imposed punishment at home lasted several times longer. Needless to say, I had learned my lesson. But despite the traumatic memory, that day was a turning point, and afterwards, I strove to be the best I could for Rhod. Davies may have been harsh, but he had molded me into something great.

I racked my brain to recall more details about the disturbing dream, but found it quickly fading. There also had been something else—something with a horse monster. But before I could recall, it occurred to me that I had no idea where I was.

And that I was supposed to be dead.

I felt a flash of disorientation as the world shifted once more: featureless white walls melted into monumental mounds of snow, and a frosty sky painted itself into existence above me. Confused, I looked down to once more see little black hooves framed by blue fur.

Hmm, I thought, I guess I am a filly after all. Why did I think I was dead?

But this thought was interrupted as I felt my hooves squish into the snow.

Wait… this isn’t snow it’s—I licked my hoof—ice cream!

I looked down again and found I was sitting on a gigantic plastic spoon. Oblivious to any weirdness, I scanned the array of multicolored ice cream hills below, which sloped downwards into a valley of fudge.

Well, the hard stuff can wait. This looks fun!

Without a care in the world, I shifted my weight to the front of the spoon. I basked in the exuberance of the bumpy descent, giggling.

Pulling her consciousness back to the physical realm, Luna opened her eyes to look on the throne room at sunset. It was entirely devoid of ponies, save for her sister’s scribe and a few night guards. The former was too nervous to say a word, while the latter weren’t talkative at the best of times—though their lack of expression did make them neigh-unbeatable in poker.

Since the Canterlot nobility had elected to save their trifling concerns until her sister’s return, this left her with nothing to do during standard Day Court hours. Bored, she had defaulted to monitoring the newcomer through his dreams. Despite Celestia’s provisions, the magic of Equestria had already started acting on the alien: his dreams were varied and mostly nonsensical, but in a growing percentage of them, she was the filly Equestria believed her to be. This was an effect well-known to them by now, but most of the time it failed to correlate with actual acceptance of one’s new form.

Luna regretted startling the foal, but at the time, she had felt a strange instinct to lick a stray strand of her mane back into place. It didn’t help that the foal’s colors were so close to her own; though that was likely the dream reacting to the older alicorn’s presence. Still, alicorn foals were amazingly cute. She had seen pictures of Cadance, but they simply didn’t do the real thing justice.

Even though she was still angry that her sister had broken their agreement, she now better understood what had gone through her head. The Nightmare had so blinded her with selfishness that she hadn’t realized that Celestia too must have been lonely these past thousand years. As much as she loved her ponies, few would see more than infallibility. And now, recently, she had been able to watch Mi Amore Cadenza and Twilight Sparkle grow up before her eyes, but always from a distance.

Tia would love her own foal, Luna thought. When forced to choose, she was willing to risk her life for this sliver of a chance.

Pondering, she restlessly shifted her body on the throne. But she’s too self-sacrificing, always doing the right thing for everypony else and never once stopping to think of herself—that befits her so.

She scratched her chin with a wing and pursed her lips. While ‘tis noble for her to attempt to return him home, it would be a waste; an alicorn foal could bring much joy to the kingdom—and to her.

Nevertheless, she could hardly keep her here against her will, and keeping the truth from him would be no different.

How could she get him to want to stay here?

Luna smiled. The question suggested the answer—she just had to make her fall in love with Equestria! That would be the outcome best for everypony.

Excited, she immediately started devising schemes to make a most splendid first impression!

But, pulled back into the moment, she then realized she was almost late to lower the sun. Their ponies could be embarrassingly forgiving about this, chalking up most mistakes as Celestia knowing better than them. In fact, just last Thursday, Tia had overslept by almost three hours, and still, most ponies went about their morning business hours behind schedule, denying anything was out of the ordinary. Yet somehow, Luna doubted they would be as forgiving were she to blunder in her sister’s place...

Chapter 4

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Chapter 5

Luna sat perched on the throne, her posture perfect. At her side was Quick Script, looking even more nervous than usual. They had both dressed for the occasion, Luna wearing her favorite sapphire tiara and marble white regalia—which brought her sister to mind, but she supposed this was appropriate given the current situation—while the young earth pony scribe wore an elegant emerald-green dress that wouldn’t be out of place at the Grand Galloping Gala.

The Night Princess was filled with an eager nervousness, for the imminent meeting with the human Aron could very well become a historic one, one that may impact generations to come. In truth, their nation would need at least a couple more alicorns to keep up with the governing needs of their rapidly growing population; the re-emergence of the Crystal Empire certainly hadn’t helped in that regard. While coercing the filly-to-be to stay would be unacceptable, it was surely in her mandate to act in the interest of Equestria. Plus—although she tried her best to push the thought aside—she admittedly would love to have a niece to spoil.

At last, the heavy doors to the hall opened and a purple pegasus guard trotted in. She was a lean, athletic mare with a short-cut black mane. Despite Luna’s best efforts, she had refused every incentive offered to transfer to the Night Guard—a shame, since her sharp wit, color scheme and crafty poker game would have made her a perfect fit.

“Good afternoon, Star Chart. I take it Trusty has returned with our guest? Hopefully, I may presume your second report brings similarly auspicious tidings as the first?”

The guard made a point to getting as close as etiquette allowed before finally speaking. “I am afraid not, Princess. It appears your visitor provoked a fight with a minotaur client in a local eatery. Neither party was injured and property damage was minimal, since Trusty Stead immediately called our escort into the restaurant.

“Explain,” Luna said. Her wings then jutted outward, a sort of dramatic display she hadn’t quite fallen out of.

“We aren’t entirely sure. According to Trusty, he at first appeared docile and timid—like a scared foal, truthfully. This makes an altercation over something as trivial as an accidental collision all the stranger.”

Luna looked down and away. She could only blame herself for this. The fact that Chart had strongly disagreed with their present course of action only served to compound her shame.

“I understand and accept full responsibility for this blunder. Nevertheless, we should stay the course. We owe him an explanation in any case; though our discussion may not be as smooth as expected.”

Luna glanced around furtively, suddenly bashful, before continuing.

“I won’t order you as your princess, but for the sake of her health I beseech thee as thy friend to refrain indefinitely from informing my sister of this matter,” Luna said, stress causing her to slip into classical parlance.

“Inform me of what?”

The Princess of the Night froze, and the earth pony at her side bowed deeply. Celestia casually strode into the throne room, devoid of any regalia. Her mane and tail had started to regain some of their luster, though their flow of colors remained slow.

“T—Tia, how was Marezona? Did it speed thy recovery.”

“It was rather pleasant actually,” Celestia said, nonchalant. “I think a warmer climate did me well. The lack of bridge-related inquiries was refreshing, so I believe I did well choosing it over Bridleton.”

“Then thou art feeling better?”

“Indeed. My magical dexterity is returning bit-by-bit, but the harmonic core will take a bit longer to heal. In some ways it’s been a much-needed vacation: I can interact with my lesser-visited subjects while I take in the magic of the land.”

“W—what brings you home so soon?” Luna asked, half-listening as she tried her hardest to think of a way out of this one.

“Twilight’s report is due today,” Celestia said with an amused smile. “I was wondering if you would like to join me after you stop procrastinating and explain to me exactly why you didn’t notify me that the boy had awakened.”

Luna blushed. Such a gambit may have worked when Celestia was a much more distractible filly, but she was in a sorry state indeed having to rely on it now . Barring a random musical number roping in all the ponies in the castle, it seemed nothing could keep her out of trouble this time.

“Well, you see… there is a good reason behind it… I—”

“This covers most of it,” Chart said, handing her report to the elder princess.

Luna aimed her best look of indignation at Chart, who countered with an expression that said, “this is for your own good.”

Celestia broke the seal and skimmed through the detailed account in seconds. If Luna had to hazard a guess, Twilight Sparkle’s voracious appetite for books likely owed a lot to her sister’s speed-reading techniques.

“I see. So his name is Aron…” Celestia mused.

Luna took a deep breath and tried to regain her composure. She had to present her case. While she had made a mistake, there was no reason to come off like a filly caught with her hoof in the cookie jar.

“I can see you took some precautions, but shouldn’t you have gotten a better read of his temperament first? Some soldiers are so only by circumstance and hate violence as much as our little ponies; others, however, glorify conflict for its own sake,” Celestia said.

“My actions were largely colored by what I have observed in the human’s dreams. Like the others, he sometimes appeared in them in his Equestrian form. I even spoke to her as such, and she mostly behaved like a normal filly,” Luna replied.

“But that doesn’t always mean who they are has changed. Besides those that arise from physical differences or those made naturally through experience, In fact, I’m no longer convinced Equestria’s assimilation efforts enforce any changes on the psyche at all.”

“I understand. Though we haven’t yet reacquainted ourselves with the science of these things, I understand this well. However, I also spoke to him in dreamscapes untouched by the Land’s harmony. He was hardly foalish then, but still seemed naturally calm. We suppose that which had impressed us the most was his want of any disdain for his people’s enemies. Enmity powerfully contorts dreams. Though even when engaging the bear creatures in memories of battle, I could only feel loyalty towards his comrades.”

Sensing a storm brewing, Star Chart crept to the main door and silently closed it.

“I can forgive your lapse in judgment. What I can’t forgive so easily is that you lied to me, Luna.” The words themselves seemed to sizzle. Most wouldn’t see more than placidity, a testament to their ruler’s unshakable poise, yet Luna knew better—her sister was furious.

“Y—you would have pulled him straight in here and handed down his fate like a decree. Is that what we want his first impression of our kingdom to be? A prison within a loathsome hourglass, counting down on his state of being?”

“It is what he deserves! Honesty is never easy when it truly matters. It doesn’t matter how he sees us; that’s his decision to make. Since I brought him here, I must accept whatever judgment he may cast upon me, much as I did unto him.”

Luna took a step back. “That’s exactly why, Sister. You would have downplayed the selflessness of your act and pushed him out the door with your guilt. This one could become an alicorn princess. If young Aron makes that choice, think how much good she could do. As our population expands we will need more rulers to match. Don’t we... want him to stay?”

It had sounded better in Luna’s head, but now that she had misstepped, she could only brace herself.

“WHERE ARE YOUR PRIORITIES, SISTER?!! FOR OUR OWN GAIN WE THROW A DISPLACED BEING HEADLONG INTO A WORLD HE KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT! WITHOUT A CLUE OF WHY HE’S HERE!.”

The throne room itself seemed to rock from the Royal Canterlot Voice. Stunned, Luna watched Chart comb her now-disheveled mane back into conformity. Even she looked rattled by the rare show of anger.

“T—thou art correct… we have acted rashly to-day… even if we were going to inform him now, there’s no excuse.”

Celestia took a deep breath. “Why, Luna? Why didn’t you want to involve me? I can understand not wanting me to rush back in my current state, but this sort of single-minded pursuit isn’t like you.”

Luna swallowed then let her gaze hit the ground. “It was for you…”

“Luna... whatever do you mean?”

“B—because if it weren’t for me you—your foal would still be—”

Luna broke into sobs, and, through misty eyes, saw her sister’s expression shift. A moment later, she felt a warm wing envelop her.

“Oh, Luna. Have you been carrying that around all this time? I don’t blame you; you couldn’t have known…”

Embracing each other fully, tears stained both of their faces. The conflict itself seemed to melt away as the sisters embraced in understanding. Luna’s guilt still stung, but it started to ease. In this moment her world was solely in the moment.

“Umm. Do you want me to take note of the hugging and crying?” the scribe asked meekly.

“Quick! When did you get here?” Celestia asked, suddenly embarrassed.

“Truthfully, I had forgotten she was here,” Luna said meekly.

“Sorry,” Quick squeaked, almost reflexively.

Star closed the distance between her and the scribe and put a hoof over the other mare’s withers. “Happened to me just last week. I take it as a sign you’re doing your job right.”

Three pairs of oversized eyes locked onto me. The small, purple one on the left, Twilight, seemed anxious, but simultaneously eager. Starry-maned Luna had a look of calm sympathy. However the tallest of the three, Celestia, showed the most emotion by far. I could almost feel the profound somberness of her constant apologies against my skin. She scooped up the fat kettle in front of me with a golden aura and stopped pouring only when my untouched tea threatened to overflow.

I wanted to be angry. After all, an enormous, looming risk had been thrust on me. Celestia’s sincerity just came through so strongly, though. I might well have been more upset, but her sister had done very well in clarifying how small the risk actually was.

After two minutes silence, she finally spoke: “I know this is a lot to take in. If you have any questions at all, don’t hesitate to ask.”

I just felt numb, like a battery of contrary thoughts and passions had collided, annihilating one another. Blood rushed to my head and throbbed with each quick beat of my heart.

“I don’t know,” I said, truthfully. “I—this is a lot to take in.”

She closed her eyes and nodded her pristine, white muzzle. “I understand. In the meantime, I can give you free rein of this wing of the castle. I feel bad limiting you so, but I cannot stress how symbolically important alicorns are. If those with evil intentions learned of what you have the potential to become, I fear you could be kidnapped, hunted, or worse…”

I idly gazed straight down at my teacup, momentarily distracted by the unusual shade of blue of its contents. “It’s fine. I think laying low would be a good idea. I’m sure your culture is wonderful and works for you, but I feel… out of place here.”

“Thank you for hearing us out,” Luna said.

Following another awkward pause, I noticed a half-folded white wing gesturing gently towards the door. I had expected it to be “princesses first,” but perhaps they were saving me the trouble of having to maneuver around three large ponies in such a tiny room.

I stood up, nodded weakly, and opened one of the double-doors that together took up half of the front wall. A familiar guard nodded as I exited, and I slowed my gait. Strangely he didn’t follow. Instead he immediately prostrated himself as soon as the first royal hoof stepped outside the door.

“Princess Celestia, Princess Luna. I’m so sorry, after Scenic Route got sick I wanted to show you that I could step up—that I could do anything. I’m a failure as a guard!” the pony whined.

The sisters exchanged a brief glance.

“No, Trusty,” Luna said. “There were many factors. Thou needst not whither the blame.”

Tears were now growing in his eyes. “But… I took him to the restaurant meant for young foals and—I really messed up! I thought Aron was a 'human' foal. I didn’t understand what you were telling me, but I didn’t want you to think I was stupid!”

“Be at ease, my little pony. Lots of guards have similar worries when they start out. Just know that you don’t have to be perfect; after all, we make no claim of perfection ourselves.”

Tears streaming from both eyes, an overgrown smile sprouted on his face. “Thank you, princesses.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Sappy, melodic music filled the air. I looked around, expecting another spontaneous song, but fortunately, no other ponies were around.

“I learned that I shouldn’t be afraid to ask for help. If I’m unsure of something, it won’t make me look dumb to ask for clarification. What’s really dumb is letting it cause a problem that could have been prevented."

Celestia smiled politely, while Luna seemed a bit unsure.

“A valuable lesson indeed,” the elder alicorn said.

He wiped both his eyes, hemming and hawing a bit before finally whispering, “I need to unpack my suitcase” and scurrying off.

With him gone, I let my confusion show through. “What was that? And where was that music coming from?”

“What music?” asked Celestia.

“Indeed. I don’t know what music you speak of, but I can answer your first query: It seems sometime within the past thousand years our subjects have developed the custom of voicing to us moral epiphanies. Come to think of it, I don’t understand why either…. Tia, do you know from whence this custom originates?”

“I’m… not sure,” “Tia” said, blushing.

“Umm, Luna, Celestia, if you don’t mind…” the forgotten third princess said.

Realizing their large frames were obstructing the doorway, the alicorn sisters awkwardly shuffled to the side to let her through.

“Do you wish for me to show you to thy chamber?” Luna asked.

“No, I think I know the way. I may just lie down for a while.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Celestia said. “I’ll have food brought to your room later. Any particular likes or dislikes? We could even scavenge up some meat if you wish.”

“Food is food,” I said. “As long as it’s not hay or grass. I’ll eat it.”

I looked between the three princesses and tried to come up with a good note to end our meeting on. Words failing me, I simply gave a quick bow and walked away. This corner of the castle was by far the least decadent, populated by only a few servants from what I’d seen. It was immaculately clean with wide halls, a common area, and low-key wallpaper that provided a nice reprieve from the full-palette assault of bright colors the rest of the world was proving to be.

I wondered why an apparent prey animal would develop such eye-grabbing colors, but this thought was interrupted as I found myself tripping over a suddenly materializing purple pony princess.

“I’m sorry,” she said, offering me a hoof up. I refused it, somehow perturbed that I hadn’t shaken her balance in the slightest.

Shaking off the feeling of defeat, I dusted myself off, stood up and asked, “How did you do that?”

“Oh, I teleported. Not many unicorns can do it, so I get a lot of questions about it. It can be hard to avoid appearing at inopportune moments, though. Sorry about that.”

“Teleporting?” On any other day, that might have come as a surprise. Having had my fill of surprises, remembering her status, I did a half-bow and turned to continue on my way.

“Actually, I was hoping to talk with you.”

“What do you need?”I said turning to regard the mare more closely. She was the youngest of the three, and it shone through in her complexion. Whereas the other alicorns had an unshakable aura, hers was more insecure, perhaps somewhat childish. Throughout our meeting I had gotten the impression that she was waiting impatiently for the end.

“Well,” she said, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you some questions about where you come from. I’m sure you’ll have a fascinating perspective. Of course, I can understand if you don’t want to talk to me after what we just told you.” Her ears drooped a bit.

“No, I think I’m still in shock about what might happen, but I don’t hold it against you. What do you want to know?”

The pony happily flicked out her wings and her entire being instantly perked up. I briefly stared, transfixed by the perfectly arranged purple feathers. She took a deep breath.

“Does the weather control itself? What about the sun and the moon? What other species are there? What’s magic like on your world? You said something about a ship to move you through space to get you back home—how does that work? Do you have a high school? A Battle of the Bands? What about upbeat musical numbers? How many friends do you have? What is friendship like where you come from?”

At the apparent end of her barrage of inquiries, she let a long piece of parchment unfold and scanned it.

“And then we can move onto architecture, and after that, move on to section 1B.” She flashed me an excited, hungry smile.

I had to strain myself to recall half of her onslaught of inquiries, but nevertheless, there was something strangely likable about this pony that made me want to help her.

“I don’t know what half of those things are, so I’ll start with what I do know: I think you were referring to weather satellites by asking that first question. No, we don’t have them; of course, they were very advanced, so very few ever had them. It would be nice, though, since we’re mostly desert. I don’t know what you mean about the sun. It and our three moons orbit normally; that’s just gravity. Other than our enemy that I mentioned before, we’re its only inhabitants. I actually don’t know how spaceships work; the technology has been lost. It’s about universal on nearby planets, but we—what are you doing?”

The scratching of her quill came to an abrupt stop. “Taking notes. Go on.”

I opened my mouth to continue, but I was suddenly distracted by the pink glow emanating from her horn. It seemed to demand my attention and somehow had a soothing air to it, as if it was touching all my senses in a way I couldn’t describe.

“What is that light you are using to hold the pen and paper?”

“What do you mean? You said you can use some magic. It’s just levitation.”

“Is it something uncommon, like the teleporting?”

“No, most unicorns can do it. Didn’t you see them carrying things with their magic?”

I thought back and nodded. “Yes, I saw things floating around, but there was none of that light.”

She put a forehoof to her chin. “Hmm. I don’t know why that would be. Everypony can usually tell when a unicorn is using magic. Do you have another method of levitating things?”

Instinctively, I thought to conceal knowledge of my capabilities to better safeguard myself and our operation. However as the pony looked at me with enthralled eyes, I reasoned that any attempt to bluff would quickly fail.

“Actually, we aren’t very proficient at magic at all. While our enemy is, we have to rely on a focus and an amplifier crystal. Even then, all I can create is a magic arrow. It’s only good at close range, since I can’t sense it at all. Most males can’t; I assume that’s the case here as well.”

“No!” Twilight sharply responded. “That’s been continuously debunked by every major study in the last hundred years. Occasionally something that looks like a slight trend will emerge, but it’s never statistically significant. Honestly, I wish that stereotype would go away.”

“Sorry if I offended you,” I hastily said with a bow.

“No, you’re fine,” Twilight said, taking a deep breath. “Bad science is a pet peeve of mine, even more so when it’s used to justify mares’ majority privilege. But I can’t expect it to be the same for humans—that is what you call yourselves, right? I’m sorry. I just assumed…”

“You’re fine. We mostly call ourselves Rhods to distinguish us from the rest of humanity beyond our planet. There are a few that don’t like the word for certain reasons, but it’s not a common sentiment.”

Princess Twilight soaked in every word, enthralled. But then, a sudden frown spread across her face and she nervously rubbed her hooves on the carpet.

“I probably should have brought this up sooner. I never was going to keep it from you, but, well…”

She levitated shards of a familiar golden crystal. A stub remained attached to the armband, while the biggest piece was only the size of my thumb.

“Apparently this broke when Princess Celestia brought you here. We’ve had several artificers try to fix it, and then I tried too, but nopony had any luck. I’m sorry.”

For a moment I wanted to berate these ponies for their carelessness, but before I could even weave a single word, the cause was clear to me.

“Oh, you’re upset, aren’t you?”

I shook my head; then it occurred to me to wonder if such a cue was universal.

“If you ponies are that skilled at magic, it comes as no surprise that you would overload it. We on the other hand, are dependent such amplifier crystals; without them, it would take hours to gather enough power to do anything with.”

“Focus crystal? Is this what you mean?” Twilight asked, levitating an intact emerald crystal mounted to a leather wrist strap. “I was just coming to give it back to you. I had tried to study it in hopes of fixing the other one, but I don’t understand it at all. It looks like a mana crystal, but any energy I put into it rapidly decayed. Is it even designed for storage?”

“It’s the opposite: it’s intended as a compact generator. It gathers ambient magic for the amplifier to use immediately. After pocket fusion was invented by the manufacturers, these quickly became obsolete as a power source.”

“I guess I can see why, but the functional mechanism fascinates me. Tiny interconnected pieces of metal with a plastic surface—it’s like no magic crystal I’ve ever seen.” Her eyes shone with passion as she lovingly gazed into the focus crystal. “If you don’t mind, I’d love to study it some more. Please?”

She gave an adorable pleading look, and I almost found myself agreeing before common sense kicked in. Here I was, weakened and without my geomancy. Even half a weapon was better than nothing. Strapping the focus crystal on, I felt a little safer as an anxiety I hadn’t even noticed was numbed.

“It probably won’t do me any good, but I’d prefer to keep it. I’m so used to it. Feels weird not wearing it.”

Twilight let only the slightest of disappointment come through in her voice: “I understand: it’s all you have of your home after all.”

“If you want you can keep studying the amplifier. As it is, it’s no longer any use to me.”

“Thank you!” she said. “Comparative technology can teach us all types of things!”

“What is that? I can’t see,” came a somewhat raspy voice from the side.

I turned on a dime and dropped into a fighting stance.

“Shh, Scootaloo, they’ll hear us. I really don’t want Twilight to catch us.”

“Well, maybe ya’ll should’ve thought of that before sneakin’ out.”

Locating the source of the voices, I stutter stepped towards a tall chair with a green chair skirt draped over it. With one swift motion I flipped the skirt up and jumped three paces back as I looked under the chair. From my angle, I could see three balls of orange, white and yellow fur.

“He’s found us,” came a high-pitched whisper.

“Don’t move. Maybe he can’t see us if we don’t move.”

“Didn’t Fluttershy tell us that was for giant salamanders?”

“Well, it might work.”

“It won’t work fer nothin’ if you two don’t hush up!”

“Talking cats?” I asked, perplexed, turning to Twilight.

The princess put a hoof to her muzzle to stifle the tiniest of laughs.

“We’re not cats; we’re ponies,” said the raspy voice as a tiny orange and purple unicorn popped out from under the chair.”

“That’s silly cats can’t talk,” said a yellow and red pegasus as she joined her friend.

“Aren’t griffons technically part cat?” said a white and mauve earth pony, rounding out the trio.

“I think they’re s’posed to be half-lion.”

“Whatever,” the unicorn said.

As if reacting to an unseen cue, they fell into some sort of formation.

“I’m Scootaloo.”

“I’m Applebloom.”

“And I’m Sweetie Belle.”

“And we’re… THE CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS!” They said in unison.

It was now obvious that they were ponies, as they clearly had hooves. Still, I wasn’t sure what surprised me more, that young ponies were so small or that their apparent fear had completely evaporated in moments.

“Girls, I told you to stay put!’ Twilight scolded. “How did you get in here?”

“The door was unlocked…” Scootaloo hazarded.

“That’s not what I mean. You three shouldn’t be wandering around the castle on your own.”

“I told you we couldn’t get cutie marks as castle-ants,” Scootaloo said.

“It’s castellans,” Sweetie corrected.

“Whatever. House-sitting sounds lame anyway, even if it’s for a princess.”

“You were the one who wanted ta sneak out the most!” Applebloom said.

“Details,” Scootaloo quipped.

“Is this one of them hyoo-mans you mentioned,Twilight?” Applebloom asked.

“I didn’t expect them to be so big,” Scootaloo said, circling me.

“What’s your cutie mark like,” the light-colored earth pony asked with wide eyes.

“Didn’t Twilight say her friends in the other world had their cutie marks on their clothes?” the pegasus said, starting to inspecting me. “But Ah don’t see anything.” The other three promptly joined her and they began circling me like a trio of fluffy sharks.

“Are these your kids, Princess Twilight?” I asked, looking to the alicorn for assistance.

“We’re not goats either! We’re ponies!” Scootaloo said.

She blushed profusely. “No… they wanted to see the castle, so I brought them along to help with my research—”

“Cutie Mark Crusaders test subjects YAY!!” The three cheered.

Twilight then looked at me pleadingly. “I swear I didn’t do this to them. It was a—well, a friend.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, out of the loop.

“Oh! Right, you’ve never met them before! Well, Sweetie Belle’s usually a unicorn, Scootaloo a pegasus and Applebloom an earth pony. A draconequus named Discord used his chaos magic to mix things up.”

I raised my brow. “You said he’s a friend of yours?”

“Well sort of. He meant well this time—I think. He usually does mean well—except when he reversed the personalities of my best friends. And when he ruined my day with Cadance. And when he betrayed us and nearly led to the doom of all of Equestria... Come to think of it, why are we friends again?”

I could only shrug my shoulders. The change of topic combined with the fast pace of the three mini-ponies made me feel rather out-of-place. Thankfully, the awkward silence soon gave way to the rattling of metal and fast-approaching hoof-steps. The girls exchanged a look and suddenly shot back under the chair just in time for an armored tan stallion to come around.

“Excuse me,” he said, “have you seen you seen three school-aged fillies around here. They told me there was free ice cream down the hall and darted off when I went to check.”

Twilight seemed simultaneously occupied by indecision and stifled laughter. I however, immediately pointed under the chair.

“Hey!” Sweetie Belle squeaked as the three of them took off down the corridor I had come from, the guard taking after them.

“I’d love to keep talking about your world’s magic, but I probably should go after them. Let’s pick this up later.”

“I don’t mind,” I said.

She nodded and took off into a reserved run, as if trying to rush while still retaining something of a regal poise.

“Heya, Twilight. I heard there’s ice cream!” said an unnaturally perky voice from around the corner.

“Pinkie, not now!”

Finally alone, I looked around almost in disbelief. I was briefly at peace, until I remembered the looming possibility of transformation hanging over me. As I returned towards my room I ran my hand across the bony nub on my forehead. I wanted to believe it was just a bruise—perhaps some local reaction caused it to swell up in a strange way. However, in light of what I had just learned, could it be a horn? I shook my head. It didn’t seem likely, as neither the alicorns’ nor Scootaloo’s horn looked anything like this strange bump.

Lost in thought, I had missed a turn, so I gathered my thoughts and mentally re-checked the route. Worry still returned fairly quickly. Even if it may be something innocuous, it seemed prudent that I check with someone just in case. Logically, it made sense, but I still had my pride as a soldier. Liu had even broken my nose during a particularly heated sparring session, and still I refused to give in. It was a testament to my character that I had refused treatment, where others would cry “medic!”

“Excuse us,” a cool voice said from behind me.

I carefully combed my bangs over my forehead, hiding the aberration before turning around.

I turned to see the Princess of the Night, now sporting heraldry to match her title.

“We—I wanted to apologize.” The black and blue diarch bowed her head to me.

This caught me off guard. “Did you do me any wrong?”

She picked her head up and leveled repentant eyes at me. “Well, it was I who arranged for your ill-conceived tour of the city. My reasoning was that it might put your mind at ease before we burdened you with such impactful news. However, I acknowledge that failing to brief you beforehand may have led to more stress.” Her posture wilted again. “And perhaps without such stress, your regretful encounter with Mr. Iron Will may have been avoided.”

That… was not exactly what I expected. I dug deep and attempted to respond to her diplomacy in kind. “I can appreciate the spirit if not all of the content. While your food was some of the freshest I’ve ever eaten, a warning about the musical greetings of your shopkeepers would have been appreciated. As for my engagement with the minotaur,” I stood more firm and rigid to show my resolve. “I accept its full consequences and hope it did not offend you. Nevertheless, while the ordeal was avoidable, I do not regret my actions.”

Luna looked genuinely curious. “Why not, pray tell?”

I paused to think for a moment. How to explain something so fundamental?

“Well I guess the old scripture sums it up best: ‘When struck, turn not the other cheek.’ Though much of The Book has been forgotten, that line, above all others, endures. We’ve been subjugated by other species before, so we’ve vowed to always stand our ground.”

“I see…” she said, apparently at a loss for words. “Oh, I am sorry. I had not stopped to consider that all of this must have taken a toll on you. Let me not delay you any longer. She nodded, flared her wide wings, opened a window with her magic and took off towards another corner of the castle.

That’s our philosophy, I thought. Though I may not always agree with it, I refuse to be the link in the chain that gives way.

I was nearly back to my room, and I greatly looked forward to being left alone with my thoughts.

Thus, almost predictably, I came to find the second alicorn sister sitting outside my door. Unlike her sister, she had not replaced her regalia following our meeting. Looking tired, she stood up and regarded me gently.

“Hello again, Aron. I know it must have been difficult to escape Twilight’s curiosity and you probably want to rest, but there is one more thing I forgot to mention, and I didn’t want to give you the impression that we were keeping it from you.”

I nodded for her to continue.

“Among the risks of your presence here, this one should in theory be the most minor. In Equestria, there a manifest concept of destiny working in the background. Though, not all-controlling, it has influence over a variety of things large and small: it can be something as simple as bringing two ponies together in love or friendship, or something as grand as a chosen pony averting disaster. Though rare, the latter case has been a great cause of concern for us. In dozens of cases of bringing other beings to Equestria, it has only happened once; however, once was enough for us to never want to repeat it. In short, if you are designated as a central figure in a certain development, the forces of harmony themselves may strive to keep you here.”

“Does that mean I may not be able to leave?!” I asked, utterly failing to contain my chagrin.

She raised her hoof to quiet me before almost apologetically lowering it.

“Fortunately, we have since found a solution. Once a pony who was burdened with the constant nagging of destiny. Everywhere he went, no matter what he did, he was constantly fulfilling an unspoken prophecy of some sort or another. He carried this burden for many years until it started to drive him insane; he was no longer sure of his sense of free will in anything. That is when he turned to us. It took months of work by our best mages, but we ultimately developed a spell to cut him off from destiny entirely. It is the same spell we have used to insure you against the possibility I just outlined.”

I was a little bit annoyed by them casting magic on me without consent, but I couldn’t fault their logic.

“So what do I need to do?”

“Nothing at all,” Celestia said with a smile. “I have enchanted the clothes I prepared for you so that they will continually renew the protection we placed upon you. As long as you don’t go without clothes for multiple days straight, there should be no issue.”

I gave a silent sigh of relief. “I appreciate you telling me, but it seems like a non-issue.”

The princess shook her head. “Unfortunately, no spell is perfect. Though magic is built on so-called laws, sometimes it can behave in ways unexpected. But fortunately, the pony I mentioned lived the remainder of his life deaf to the call of destiny. The odds are overwhelmingly in your favor, but I felt obligated to disclose every possibility to you.”

“Thank you. It’s not a situation I want to be in, but I respect your proactive response.”

She looked down guiltily. “You shouldn’t thank me—not yet, anyway.”

I let the silence hang for a few seconds; silence in the presence of royalty should have made me uncomfortable, but there was something serene in the air as I took in the image of the majestic, white mare.

The atmosphere unsettled me so I opted to break the silence: “Any idea when you can send me back?”

“I don’t know. It will take me some time to recover my strength. Unfortunately, since I had to use volition magic to bring you here, only I can send you back. If I could do anything to expedite the process, I would, but it’s magic of the sort you don’t want to take chances with.”

“Okay. I get it, and… thanks.”

She smiled. “And thank you for your understanding of this matter. All things considered you’ve taken the possibility of becoming an alicorn foal very well.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “As long as I get out soon enough, it won’t matter what I might have become. Besides, you alicorns are pretty impressive, so becoming a younger version of you isn’t the worst prospect when weighed against the alternative of life as a plant or a dog.”

She laughed. “Still, I would have expected you to be a bit unsettled that you would be a filly instead of a colt.”

Filly? There was that word again. Though I was amazed by my ability to mostly comprehend their language, this word was outside of my vocabulary. By context, I had inferred that filly and foal meant roughly the same thing, referring to an immature pony, but by her reaction I wondered if I was missing something.

‘Princess Celestia?”

“Hmm?”

“I have to confess that although you and the others have used the word ‘filly’ a couple of times today, I’m not entirely sure what it means.”

Celestia froze. In a flash her expression turned from surprise, fear and then to embarrassment.

“Well, how to say it—“

“Let us go!” Applebloom whined as the tan unicorn guard from before carried her and her friends by in a blue cloud of magic.

Celestia took in a deep breath and nervously gestured at the trio of young ponies—the trio of female young ponies.

“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?”

Author's Note

Everything that went wrong with this one did. I got halfway through a long-winded exposition scene before deciding it was absolutely terrible and splitting it up into what are hopefully more manageable bites. I'm just hoping this one wasn't too slow. Maybe one day, I'll publish a chapter that doesn't compel me to apologize in advance in the AN.

Thanks to LostThoughts, AuroraGleam, Boldish42 and Fourpony for helping make this one presentable.

Chapter 7

I can’t believe I’m doing this, I thought

My pony hosts were friendly—overly so in fact, so I couldn’t believe I was volunteering to spend extra time with them. It was highly pertinent to me though, so I thought it might be worth sitting through the purple one’s boundless enthusiasm. To be fair, her energy aside, I had liked her well enough. Besides, I found myself with exactly nothing to do otherwise.

I found the designated room quickly. It was a fairly open space to accommodate the slightly larger crowd. It was largely unfurnished and gave the impression of being rarely used. The three fillies from before were shuffling their feet restlessly, while an older-looking unicorn mare was talking with the three princesses.

“Aron! I didn’t think you were going to come!” Twilight said. I could practically feel the questions about to stampede towards me.

“Am I interrupting?” I asked, trying to read the room.

“Nay, we have yet to start,” said Luna.

“Then can we hurry up now that he’s here? All that education gave me a headache.”

“Scootaloo, don’t be rude,” Twilight scolded.

Celestia laughed slightly. “It’s more than all right, Twilight. We have no need to cling to formality here.”

“Yes,” Luna agreed, “‘Tis refreshing when the young ones say what the adults dare not speak aloud.”

“Very well,” the older mare said, eyeing me with interest. “Let us begin.”

“Right!” Twilight said. “Now Discord, our favorite work-in-progress, overheard the Cutie Mark Crusaders arguing and thought it would be “enlightening” for them to walk a mile in each others’ horseshoes.”

“We weren’t even arguin’ all that much,” Applebloom interrupted. “I got a teensy bit upset, but I knew Sweetie Belle didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”

Sweetie Belle slumped a little. “I still feel bad, though. Nobody ever told me that earth ponies had to practice their abilities the same as the other tribes.”

“What bothers me is that Discord thought we needed to learn to respect the other tribes. Our performance at the Equestria Games was all about earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi living in harmony, for ponies sake,” Scootaloo groused.

Celestia didn’t seem surprised.“This isn’t the first time something like this has happened.. Ever since I made him his redemption punch-card, he’s been surprisingly.... eager,” she said, amused despite herself.

“Yes, eager to a fault. It took me almost a week to re-file everything after our embodiment of chaos itself deigned to try his paw at organizing...” Luna said, reminiscing. “The filing system he employed apparently works well with tropical birds, but not much else.”

Twilight’s whole body straightened and her whole being seemed to snap back to focus.

“In any case,” Twilight continued, “instead of having him undo their flip-flopped tribes, we decided to observe the girls as Discord’s magic wears off naturally. Alicorns and Draconequi are opposites in more than just the symbolic sense; our magic is in many ways a mirror image of Discord’s. To model Equestria’s restoration of their normal selves Professor Withers and I measured tribe specific traits, including their wings, horn, and in Sweetie Belle’s case, the gaean duct. To our surprise we found the regression of these traits to be discrete events falling into a Poisson distribution. Experimentally determined lambda was found to be around 4.3 in a day. For chaos magic, it was rather well behaved mathematically speaking. This is at odds with the results published in Withers, Beaker and Rat, wherein the model functions all had in common repeated eigenvalues...”

Oh boy, this is going to be a long night.

The princess continued to prattle on in a language I barely understood. I looked to the rest of her audience and found that besides the professor, everyone was just as lost as I was. The other princesses, though, were doing much better at feigning interest and attention than the children were.

“Uh, guys...”

“Shhh. Not now, Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle whispered.

Suddenly a purple aura started to coalesce around Scootaloo’s horn. It’s brightness and size doubled just as fast and, with no additional warning, jumped from her horn and surged towards me. A half formed concept flashed through my head and before my brain caught up, my arm shot up in front of me, using the crystal strapped to my wrist as a shield. The crystal lit up and sparks scattered in every direction.

Twilight was quick to react and erected a glowing magical shield around the fillies, while the royal sisters shielded themselves with their wings.

“I’m sorry, Air-un! I didn’t mean to. Honest!” Scootaloo said, looking guilty.

Twilight lowered the shield. “Don’t feel bad, Scootaloo. Most young unicorns experience magical surges from time to time. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m sorry, Aron. Few young unicorns can control magical surges, let alone one who’s not used to even having a horn. Are you all right?”

I lowered my hand slowly. “Yes… I’m fine.”

I had to leave my comments there, as I was starting to have doubts about the supposed magical mastery of these unicorns.

Really?! Twice in one day!

“Do you need a moment to recover?” Celestia asked politely.

“No,” I answered, immediately cursing myself for missing the perfect excuse to retreat.

Returning to her lecture, Twilight smiled happily at me. “Now, to show our work, we’d like to walk everypony through it step by step.”

With a poof, an easel and a large piece of paper appeared. Twilight unrolled it to reveal a confusing series of colored lines. Strange symbols appeared to label the charts. My mathematics training lacking, it was no surprise I couldn’t make sense of the confusing markings. It goes without saying that her explanation of them clarified exactly nothing.

A quick glance at the rest of the audience confirmed that yes, this was still nothing anyone else understood or cared about. Through Celestia’s eyes I could almost make out a message: “I’m sorry, but this means a lot to her. Please bear with it.”

“Furthermore if we adjust for the discretization—”

“Twilight,” Celestia whispered at a volume audible to everyone in the room.

“We can convert functions 17a and 16c into second order difference equations.”

“Twilight!” she whispered a second time.

The purple pony snapped out of her single-minded trancelike concentration and looked towards the larger alicorn. “I’m sorry. Did you have a question?”

In response, Celestia pointed to the three sleeping fillies sprawled out on top of each other.

Luna smiled warmly at them. “I’d wish them sweet dreams, but ‘tis hardly more prudent to wish when we can actualize.” Her horn glowed briefly.

“They had a full day today. I suppose all that learning really did tire them out,” Celestia said.

”That’s strange. I need Spike to remind me to go to bed once every couple days when I’m busy learning.” Twilight looked genuinely confused, which sharply contrasted with her normal aura of knowledgeability. “Should we pause and put them to bed?”

“I think their purpose as visual aids has been well served,” Celestia said.

The old professor nodded her head and looked at the fillies fondly.

Twilight once more became excited. “I’ve been working on a more efficient way to teleport others. It combines automatic collision detection with conceptual visualization. Look, Professor!”

Twilight’s horn glowed with magenta light and I heard a loud pop. Once more, thaumaturgical danger was speeding directly at my head. This time, I knew exactly what to do as I raised the crystal to intercept it. The crystal slowly started to take the magic in and I felt the enormous pressure. I flexed every muscle in my arm, but still couldn’t stop my body from shaking. It felt like trying to brace myself against an onslaught of crashing waves.

The crystal glowed more brightly than I had ever seen it, and I heard a pop. A beam of light erupted from the crystal and directly hit the sleeping fillies.

My heart stopped.

I…. did I kill them? No...

“Girls! Oh my gosh! Are you okay!?” Twilight shouted, galloping towards them.

Luna glared at me intensely, but her anger fell limp as soon as she took a look at the “victims” of the misfired spell.

“What the hay’s all the commotion about,” Applebloom groaned.

“If I can’t sleep through class, at least let me have this,” Scootaloo grumbled.

“Hey, girls, look!” Sweetie Belle said, pointing at her friends and then herself.

The other fillies quickly examined each other and then perked up in realization.

“We’re back to normal! YAY!”” They danced in place excitedly and pumped their front hooves.

Twilight’s eyes fell to the ground. She looked shell-shocked. “I don’t understand… I haven’t lost control of my magic like that in forty years—not since I was a young filly of twenty-three”

“I see…” the professor said as she examined the little girls. “You can be at ease, Princess. If my theory is correct, you were no more responsible for the misfire than young Scootaloo was for hers.”

“What do you mean?” Twilight asked, curiosity steadily overcoming her guilty complexion.

“First of all, Aron, are you aware that you didn’t fully block the spell?”

My blood felt cold for a moment. I felt up every inch of my body from bottom to top. At the end of my search it hit me: my formerly light blond hair was now an ostentatious azure. I felt it carefully, noting the subtly changed texture, even pulling a hair loose and dangling it in front of my face. I sniffed it and turned it in place to examine it from every angle, disbelieving.

“Indeed. I believe we’ve just witnessed the meeting of two harmonic correction events,” the professor began to lecture. “Conventional understanding is that intermediates between the tribes cannot stably exist. The most obvious evidence for this can be plainly seen whenever ponies of different tribes mate. Despite possessing DNA from both parents, only the traits from one tribe are expressed. Here, as the traits from one tribe receded, the fillies were moving closer and closer to having no tribal alignment. Such a state is even more unstable than their flip-flopped states, so the force of Harmony was motivated to spark a reaction to change them back instantly. In other words, as the fillies got closer and closer to being neutral ponies of no tribe, the probability of a reaction such as this approaches one. Normally it would wait until a point where ambient magic could get the job done, but it seized the opportunity a spell as powerful as teleportation offered. Aron’s state of incongruence with his magical signature served as a further catalyst, and well, it was an opportunity Equestria couldn’t pass up.”

Twilight seemed to have recovered and was enthralled with the explanation. “I see! That’s good news then. This shouldn’t be a problem for Aron as he’s no sort of pony yet. Short of sprouting a tail, he won’t be read as a tribeless pony.”

“Maybe...” the old mare said

She slowly approached me, and without asking for permission in the slightest started feeling me up. She started with my back and had to start standing on her hind legs as she worked her hooves up to my shoulder blades. I couldn’t tell if this was a further manifestation of the ponies’ appalling lack of personal space, or if this mare was too old and tired to bother with common courtesy.

I felt numb, an empty shell, as she levitated a stool in front of me and set it down with her magic. I had lost something I had taken for granted. Something I had rarely thought twice about, though it still hurt to lose it—the very color of my hair.

Giants’ Withers knew exactly what she was looking for as she softly tapped the bony protrusion on my forehead. A weird sensation, like a miniature psychic headache, briefly pulsed through my scalp.

Exposed, I looked to the princesses for help instinctively. With the further stress of the breaching of my secret, I didn’t know how to handle it.

“Aron, is that…” Celestia gasped.

“A horn?” Luna finished.

Mercy! How could I have been so blind. I thought. After acknowledging the elephant in the room, I felt as if the denial dam burst as clarity dawned on me. In truth, I had known all along.

“Aron. Aron!”

I saw the sister princesses mouthing words at me, but I was occupied in scanning their faces, desperate to see, through their expressive eyes, if the way they looked on me had changed.

“Aron, we need to know! When did you get that? Why didn’t you tell us?” Celestia asked with increased urgency..

“Oh, uhh… I thought it was a minor injury, just a bump” I said, feeling somehow guilty.

“Ooh, this is bad!” Twilight said, starting to hyperventilate slightly. “Tell me everything you can remember about it.”

I put my face into my hands and started to speak, as if confessing.

“I got into a fight with the bull at the restaurant. Sudden movements felt difficult and I couldn’t fight properly. He knocked me onto a table and I fell onto some cream. It was for a filly with a broken horn, I think?”

“I see,” Giants’ Withers said. “As you do not possess magic native to this world, your very movements were resisted by ambient magical pressure. Although… that alone shouldn’t have altered the probability of you coming into contact with the medicinal cream; impulse-based reactions need a significantly strong driving imbalance.”

I sighed through my hands.

Since I’m telling them everything else, I may as well….

“I tried to use my geomancy, but it felt wrong. The power of the planet felt completely different, and I couldn’t use it to augment my strength.”

Celestia’s stoic mask crumbled and a look of shame emerged.

“I see,” the professor said. “Equestria doesn’t usually mesh well with non-native magic...” She then paused to look genuinely sorry for me.

“It’s like earth pony magic…” Celestia said, shaking her head. “Here I was taking precautions against analogs to unicorn magic, as if that was the only form that mattered. Have I learned nothing these thousands of years?”

Giants’ Withers seemed deeply moved by her ruler’s sudden show of emotion. The situation left her clueless about what to do. However, in a show of determination, she channeled the demeanor of a crime scene investigator and a desire to strike while the iron was hot.

“Have you felt the slowness of movement since?”

“No.”

“Then, the harmonic core is probably already formed,” Twilight inferred. “It is important to all life in Equestria, but it is especially important and stronger in alicorns. Unfortunately, this means that Equestria will now see you as an incomplete unicorn.”

“Wh—what do I do?” I asked.

I felt like a child depending on her for help like this. I had no way of handling this on my own and was at her mercy. Part of me sincerely believed she could and would help me.

“Well, to start you should avoid young unicorn foals. Adults should be fine as long as they don’t use magic stronger than levitation around you.”

“We put him on the right floor then,” Luna said, desperately trying to inject some optimism. “It’s full of earth ponies who prefer keeping their feet closer to the ground.”

Palpable silence hung on the air for what felt for two minutes. I wearily scanned the room and noticed that at some point the Cutie Mark Crusaders had slipped out of the room.

“So… what do we do.”

Twilight looked like she was struggling to keep her sympathetic mask as she eased her way towards a bookshelf. Nevertheless, her tail started to wag as she pulled a book from the shelf.

“To the secret lab!” Twilight said, enthusiasm coming through.

I felt a sinking feeling under me as the floor slid out from underneath me. I registered the room’s furnishings clinging to the walls as if suddenly magnetized; then, I started to fall.

At the time, my mood was such that a giant slide down what felt like multiple floors, was met with only dull surprise. In a daze, I let the ponies lead me towards a variety of various apparatuses as I underwent a gauntlet of scans, tests and measurements that I couldn’t begin to identify.

Nervous conversation surrounded me, but their words stopped registering fairly quickly. All my focus was on the implications rushing through my head.

Further fear gripped me with each moment. I was here alone with something overtaking me that I barely understood. I had lost a part of me. My hair color, which had formerly been uniform and orthodox, was now indulgently bright and gaudy. I would be a laughingstock. A soldier couldn’t have hair like this.

“Would you like to go back to your room?” Celestia asked. I couldn’t tell if fifteen minutes or an hour had passed. I gave a weak nod in response.

I felt too weak to stand and started to stagger. She smiled at me and extended her otherworldly mane towards me. I took it in hand and marveled at its wondrous texture. I didn’t have the words to describe it—it felt like safety, like everything right in the world.

We exited through what appeared to be a solid wall on the outside, which sealed behind us as we stepped out. I would have normally complained about the needless slide experience when there was another perfectly good entrance, but I had bigger concerns on my mind.

“Will… will I ever be able to go back?” I asked, slightly tightening my grip on her mane as she guided me.

She smiled serenely. “It’s okay. You’ll be fine I promise. There are spells to change your hair back. And if you’re outside of Equestria, the spell will never wear off. I apologize. We had foreseen this possibility and determined it easily resolvable, but we had forgot to fill you in.”

I nodded in acknowledgement. It was truly good news, but I wasn’t much in the mood to appreciate a windfall of optimism.

“That secret lab slide is pretty fun, isn’t it?” Celestia asked, cautiously cheerful.

I weakly nodded.

“Twilight’s been meaning to convert it into a roller coaster for some time now. Won’t that be fun?”

What the heck is a roller coaster? I thought.

I let the conversation die there, and before long, she guided me into my room. Strangely enough, my first impression was how clean the room was.

“Do you need me for anything?” Celestia asked.

I shook my head. She gave me a look that spoke of sympathy and moved to leave. However, she paused at the door and turned back.

“I think I have something to make you feel better,” Celestia said.

She stepped out of the room and closed the door. A moment later she returned holding what appeared to be a small hand mirror.

“Would you like to see your world again?”

Author's Note

This one got delayed for the stupidest reasons. It would have been longer, but I couldn't think of anything that wouldn't clash terribly with the tone.

Chapter 8

I don’t remember exactly how long I gazed, transfixed, into the portal mirror. Frame-by-frame, I patiently watched my comrades in arms clash with those hideous monster bears. My interest peaked when I glimpsed my sister. The captain of her own corps of archers, she let her leadership and battle prowess shine through despite the lack of sound on my end. It took a full minute for each one of her arrows to land, but as if compelled by duty, I watched patiently. It was then that I realized that it was only through Equestria’s magic that I could now see the previously undetectable magic arrows. I was begrudgingly grateful for this, as otherwise the slow-motion combat was intolerably dull. When the magical light show’s novelty wore off, I wanted to stop; however, an ingrained need demanded I soak in as much of my homeland as possible.

For her part, Celestia patiently peered over my shoulder the whole time, completely silent. When I did glance back, she was mostly unreadable, but for a single moment I thought I saw a grain of disappointment—as if frustrated in her search for something unknown. Otherwise, she was only there compliantly adjusting the plane of view whenever I signaled. I knew I would have to thank her when I was finished, but I fell asleep before I got the chance to.

For a while, images of battle just witnessed danced through the forefront of my subconscious. Magical arrows flashed otherworldly light. Crystals flashed. Frontline brawlers exchanged cushioned punches. A pearl of awareness amidst my dream-addled state likened the illusion of harmlessness given by the slowed battle to the ponies’ soft training.

I suppose when you live in a gentle world everything starts to look soft, I mused, strangely philosophical.

Then, the dreamscape suddenly shifted, and the arid battlefield gave way to a small village road framed by flowers and cottages. The first thing I noticed was an earth pony couple gardening in their front lawn. They smiled and gave me a wave, which I was happy to return. However, I gestured not with a hand, but with a purple-furred hoof. I briefly found this odd, but purple was a pretty color for my cute little hoof, so what was the problem?

I gripped my bright-orange school bag tightly and started trotting hastily down the road. I couldn’t be late for my first day of school! Unfortunately, the endless road refused to cooperate. The houses compressed into nothingness and the path seemed to consume everything. I looked down at my tiny body, which was now rose-colored and my breast moved as I panted. I briefly tried twitching my undersized emerald wings, but lacking experience, I was unable to get any lift.

Tears started to drop to the ground in spite of myself. My perfected stoicism was completely absent as I sniffled, muzzle defeatedly pressed to the ground.

“Hello! You must be the new student,” a kind voice said.

I looked up at an adult earth pony, who was easily four times my size. His eyes shone with an unreal empathy, and I could felt residual warmth just by being near him.

“We’re all very excited to meet you. Can you tell me your name, young lady?” asked the chocolate-brown stallion.

“Umm…”

With another temporal jump, I was at the front of a garishly painted classroom filled with equally garish colts and fillies. They were all staring expectantly, and their mere gaze seemed to pierce my skin and inject raw anxiety. It was all I could do to hide behind the massive lectern at the front of the room.

I awoke, heart racing, in a cold sweat. I patted my body down and sighed in relief that no more of my features had progressed towards those of a baby horse. The fear I felt in the dream wasn’t surprising, but my reaction to it was. Why exactly was I so afraid of facing a bunch of pony children? I could understand being freaked out from suddenly being a filly, even if I was strangely okay with it in my dream. Fortunately, though, this acceptance did not seep into my waking attitude.

Who was that stallion, though? Do I know him?

Despite the brevity of his appearance, something about him stood out.

Figuring it unimportant, I shook my head and reached for the mirror on the bedside table. Finding it absent, I combed the room in search of itt. Although fruitless, my search did turn up a piece of paper which I was pretty sure wasn’t there before. I turned it over and saw a short series of puzzling hieroglyphs. Among them were multiple four legged stick figures and something that looked like a sun at the bottom.

Did Twilight leave her math notes in here or something?

Doubting it pertained to me, I set it on the bedside table. I then dressed myself in the least colorful clothing that had been provided and brushed my new hair with the brush in my personal bathroom. It perturbed me how effective the pony brush was, but I quickly got over it. Besides, it felt good to brush.

I pulled the door open, realizing I had no idea what this day would hold. My answer came in the form of the familiar armored pony waiting at the foot of the doorframe. I had to flail backwards to avoid tripping over him.

“Trusty?”

He lifted his head and let out a yawn. “Oh hi, Aron. The princess wanted me to give you this.”

Reaching into some unseen pocket, he procured a plain looking steel ring.

“This has a magic spell to help you blend in. It’s a disguise you can slip on and off as needed.”

Warning lights went off, and I recoiled.

“Wait! Wouldn’t that trigger another magical reaction if I get near it?”

Trusty smiled. “Oh, that. Princess Twilight explained to me that magical artifacts are mostly inert Apparently it takes a lot powerful magic to release any magic from within the ring. I thought Princess Celestia had explained it to you.”

“I see,” I remarked, turning the ring cautiously over with the hand I had the crystal strapped to.

What he said made sense. Otherwise, the spell keeping me free of ‘the call of destiny’ would be liable to transform me further. There was also the presumed translation spell they had also cast on me, which I was honestly surprised they hadn’t mentioned it yet.

I glanced briefly at the stallion. Trusty was an idiot, but he hardly had a malicious bone in him. If he said the princess wanted me to wear this, it was probably the truth. Swallowing nervously, I slipped it on. At first, I felt a phantom breeze cut through my clothing and felt a little bit lighter. I became aware of my breathing and every subtle movement of my body.

I looked expectantly at the pony. “Anything?” I asked.

He put a hoof to his chin. “Hmm. I don’t see anything different. Maybe the ring’s defective. Oh no, I’d hate to have to tell Princess Twilight.”

The maid pony from yesterday then came around the corner, carefully balancing a flower vase on her back. She took one look at me and started beaming.

“Oh what a cute colt! Is he a relative of yours, Trusty? What’s your name, little one?”

“Err, my name is… well” I stammered, unsure whether to lie or not.

She craned her neck back and pulled out one of the flowers, extending it towards me. “Are you hungry, sweetie?”

Thankfully, Trusty came to my rescue.

“This is Aron, actually. We’re trying on a new disguise so he can blend in. Given he’s a non-native species, we don’t want to attract too much attention, which hanging around the princesses and the royal guard tends to do.”

On cue, I slipped off the ring, feeling absurd in expecting some reaction. Nonetheless I got one in spades.

“Oh my!” the mare shrieked. “You were such a tiny colt, and now you’re so big again! What neat magic!” Still holding the rose, she offered, “You’re still welcome to the flower if you want it.”

I just shook my head, and she seemed to get the hint that my diet was thankfully flower-free.

“Okay. See you around!”

She gave a four-legged curtsy and went off to do more maid things.

“Wow, that really worked!” Trusty said.

I nodded in agreement, but then I became confused.

“Hang on,” I said. “Why can you see through it, but she can’t?”

The pony cocked his head. “I’m not sure.”

Eager to get the bottom of this, I commenced all sorts of experimentation taking the ring on and off. In no time at all, I determined that when Trusty was watching me slip on the ring he could see the illusion. Otherwise, his knowledge of my true form did nothing to penetrate the illusion.

“So what do I look like?” I asked, curious.

“You like like a colt on the smallish side with a caramel coat. Your hair is the same color as it is normally—well normally as of now I mean.”

I flinched at his lack of tact around what was still a very sore subject. Picking up on this, Trusty lightly hit himself with a forehoof.

“That reminds me: we can go to the salon to dye your mane now if you want.”

I thought about it briefly then shook my head.

“It’s fine. As long as they think I’m a pony, I don’t really care if I’m seen like this.”

It also didn’t help that my mental image of a pony salon involved a constantly singing barbershop quartet. Besides, I wasn’t exactly amenable to the idea of any type of salon, especially one that’s a pony princess’s personal paradise.

Hmm, alliteration, I thought, I wasn’t even trying for it.

Following my pitiable showing last night, I wasn’t eager to run into any of the princesses just yet, so I agreed to another day out with my “favorite pony.” We went down another awkward set of stairs for use of the castle staff. Every mare we passed seemed intent on cooing over me, which was a definite downside of this disguise. Apparently, the illusion didn’t adjust for the relative position of their perception, as they would awkwardly pet my shins and thighs.

Apparently Trusty had learned a lot from our previous outing, and this experience was considerably better. We weaved in and out of the various streets and side streets of Canterlot. We weren’t looking to buy anything, but every time we wanted to enter a store Trusty scouted ahead to absorb the brunt of a musical number if there was one. Ponies had such a fascinating variety of stores that I wondered how the economy could sustain all these niche business.

There was a store that exclusively sold books on Llamas and Alpacas, a store specializing in small porcelain figurines and even a shop that only sold items that rhymed with oil. It was particularly creepy when the proprietor tried to pawn off his worst-selling item on us—boil growth cream. However, the store that made us want to finally break out our wallets—read: Trusty’s wallet—was the corner bakery. The smells were truly tantalizing, smelling of the freshest bread and confectionaries. Trusty was eager to jump on a quarter dozen muffins and some frosted sugar cookies. Loathing all things sweet, I opted for some simple bread. I was not disappointed, as it was easily as good as the bread served at the princesses’ table, if not better.

We took a break to eat at the local park. It was a huge, wide-open space peppered with all sorts of trees, berry bushes and an abundance of flowers. Many ponies had set up picnic blankets and were chatting amicably with each other. Like most of the city, the majority were unicorns, with a small minority of earth ponies and pegasi. There were almost no foals, and I also noticed most of the ponies around us were mares. I speculated this was due to differing gender roles. We had different life paths for the sexes on Rhod, but perhaps here, the stallions were primary breadwinners here.

Getting up off the bench, I heard something running towards me. I immediately got on my guard and spotted a purple-maned silver unicorn filly dashing towards me.

“Oh no! I’m late! Master told me off just last week, and here I am late again. I am her number one apprentice, so I don’t see why I should have to bother with school. I guess just have to mix these up at school. Whoa!”

The filly tripped over some exposed tree roots and her saddlebags went flying. The filly quickly recovered, but she gave a look of horror as her precious cargo catapulted into the air. I didn’t even need my trained senses to tell me it was hurtling straight towards me. Trusty moved to catch her bag, but I picked him up and didn’t stop running until I heard the shattering of glass behind me.

Trusty frowned.

“Aron, why didn’t you help her?”

I shook my head at his slow uptake.

“By the sound of it, she’s a potion maker’s apprentice. What do you think would happen if I tried to catch her bag?”

His face showed understanding, but it became puzzled once more.

“Well, why didn’t you let me help her, then?”

“Call it a hunch, but I bet if I was within a hundred yards of you, your kindness would end up juggling a vial straight into my face.”,

“No….” the filly cried. “My elixir of true form. I worked weeks to get it just right, and now it’s all gone!”

I gave Trusty the smuggest look I could muster, and it was then that the filly caught sight of me and came stomping towards us.

“What are you smiling about!? Laughing at me, are you? You think my misfortune’s funny, so you just let my stuff break?!”

I shook my head.

“Sorry, I just didn’t think I could catch it, so I ran. Forgive me.”

This incensed her.

“Catch it!? You’re a unicorn, stupid! Use your magic!”

“Oh, I can’t use magic,” I responded, hoping to extricate myself from this angry tirade. I had half a mind to take off the ring, since I doubted she would keep flinging insults at someone five times her size.

She huffed.

“I might believe that puny horn on yours couldn’t do it, but you just picked up a royal guardspony for pony’s sake!”

I was stumped. Given what the illusion magic had made her see, she had a point.

“Hey!” Trusty interjected. “That’s uncalled for. Some ponies have smaller horns, but that’s no reason to put them down. How would you feel if someone picked on you for what’s different about you?”

The filly hid behind her mane at the guardspony’s rebuke.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I just worked so hard on those, so I was upset. I guess I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Trusty said with a compassionate smile, stroking the filly’s mane. “So, where do you go to school, my little pony?”

Suddenly the filly’s look of regret turned to fear. “Oh, no! You’re not a truancy officer are you? Is that why he’s with you?”

“No, I’m not. I just thought I could walk you there if you wanted.”

“No, I can get there on my own,” she said. “I go to First Canterlot Elementary.” Her answer was directed at me. “So, where do you go to school?”

“I...uhh,”

“I’m late because I’m Bubbling Cauldron’s one and only apprentice. What’s your excuse?” she asked haughtily.

“I don’t….”

Dang it! Why didn’t these ponies give me a cover story?

“These aren’t hard questions. Do you even know your own name?” she asked accusingly.

I turned to Trusty for help, and once again he delivered.

“His name is Sapphire Luster. He’s staying at the palace as part of an exchange program. He’s new to Equestria, so I’m showing him around.”

“Neat!” The filly said, smiling. “My name is Pestle Mix. Where are you going to go to school? Probably the School for Gifted Unicorns, right?”

“Err….”

“Actually, he hasn’t decided yet,” Trusty filled in.

The filly took three steps towards me, invading my personal space.

“You should come to Canterlot First. The School for Gifted Unicorns is full of stuck-up know-it-alls. After all, they clearly couldn’t recognize a prodigy such as myself.”

You’re one to talk…

“Well, I’d better get going,” Pestle said. “I hope you make the right choice; it sure would be nice to have another pony with advanced magical ability. And I could use another test subject after I turned the last one into a calf…”

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing. I’d better get going. Nice to meet you, Sapphire,” she said, leaving with a wink. I stared at her retreating flank and noticed her unique symbol, a fizzing cauldron and beaker.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Trusty chanted, “Aron’s got a marefriend!”

“Oh, shut up.”

We resumed our walk through vibrant Canterlot. I was starting to grasp some of the appeal of this world, as the endless pattern of pony colors and symbols parading by provided an endless variety of sightseeing. It seemed only fitting that the architecture surrounding them was just as diverse and creative. Although, it did strike me as wasteful; standardization certainly had its advantages, and as a soldier I understood that very well. Even if the ponies could never understand, our way was certainly better.

We had to push our way through the lunch crowd, eventually deciding to duck into a side-alley just to get out of the crowd.

*Clang!*

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Mister!” “Sorry!”

A female voice and Trusty apologized at the same time as two sets of armor collided. A pair of helmets also rolled onto the ground, giving me a good look at the mare. She was a fuschia-maned butter-colored pegasus wearing a white set of armor with hearts on it.

“Umm… I wasn’t paying attention. I’m sorry. It—it was my fault.”

“No, need to apologize, miss. After all, I shouldn’t have noticed you first. Especially—umm especially a mare as pretty as yourself.”

The pegasus blushed profusely and hid behind her long bangs, which were already covering most of her face.

“That armor—are you in the guard too? I haven’t seen you before. What’s your name?” He was wearing his typical goofy grin, which seemed a little bit broader than usual.

“Umm… Wallflower”

“I”m sorry, what was that.”

“... Wallflower.”

“What?”

“Wallflower.” Upon saying this she covered her mouth as if embarrassed for catching herself yelling.

“I’m Trusty Stead. Nice to meet you, Wallflower,” he said, extending a forehoof to her.

She shyly touched it, and he took two steps closer to her.

Noticing me for the first time and happy for the distraction she suddenly approached me and hugged my legs. “What a cute colt! What’s your name, little one?”

Apparently my disguise was extremely disarming, as it was the boldest she had acted yet.

“Sapphire Luster,”I said stiffly.

“Oh you’re a darling! Mr. Stead is this… umm… your son?”

“No, I’m just looking after him for the princess. He’s an exchange student.” He cleared his throat. “So, anyway, what’s a guardspony like you doing in this dirty alley?”

She looked down and away.

“Well, I was going on leave to visit my sister in P—Ponyville, and they gave… ummm… gave me the wrong ticket at the station. I didn’t want to bother them, so I made a round trip back to Canterlot. I wanted to buy another ticket, but umm… I was out of bits. I was hoping to find my b—boss, but I got lost…”

“I’d be happy to help you, Wallflower,” Trusty said. “I know this city quite well, and I could help you find your boss. But I assume you’d rather go see your sister instead, right?”

Wallflower weakly nodded.

“Then take these bits,” Trusty said, pulling some coins out of a special pouch I hadn’t seen before.

Wallflower backed away.

“I couldn’t… you don’t have to spend your money on me.”

For a moment, Trusty took on the aura of a competent—heroic even—guardspony.

“Nonsense. My division started carrying these pouches for precisely this reason—helping ponies in need. Princess Celestia has been thinking about instituting it across the board. Just because you are part of the guard doesn’t mean you need help any less.”

“Th—thank you, Mr. Stead.”

“Please call me Trusty,” he said, coming off somewhat cool.

She shyly accepted the bits and started backing away. She ducked out of sight, but had to come back to retrieve her helmet.

“I think I can retrace my steps to the train station—not that I don’t want your help, Trusty. I’m sort of good at directions, so I don’t need to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Wallflower.”

“No,” she squeaked. “You’ve already done so much for me, I couldn’t trouble you any more. Thank you again. Oh, and bye, Sapphire!”

“Good Luck!” Trusty called after her as she took flight and rounded the corner.

For a moment, Wallflower peered back around the corner, and locking eyes with Trusty she blushed and flew away again.

Trusty, starstruck and blushing himself muttered, “She’s beautiful… Oh, I hope I made a good impression.”

He nervously rubbed his front hooves together.

“Oh, I think you have a shot,” I said, nonplussed.

“What makes you say that?”

“Oh, just a hunch,” I said sarcastically.

“Well, we should be getting back to the castle,” Trusty said. “The princess doesn’t want you cooped up in the castle too much, but at the same time she’s also worried about you being out in the open for too long.”

“I understand. It’s those ‘changelings’ that she’s worried about, right?”

Trusty nodded. “Among other things.”

We waded back through the lunch crowd, taking a different route. There were fruit stands set up alongside the street, peddling all sorts of fruits and vegetables.

One particularly impressive gold maned, red earth pony was presiding over a stand of solid gold apples.

“Golden Exquisite! Golden Exquisite! Get the finest apples in all of Equestria. They’re of such exquisite taste that only a pony of great worth can appreciate. One-hundred bits apiece! Get them while they’re fresh—there’s no other way to eat them,” he called.

Whispering to Trusty, I asked, “Is that a lot?”

Trusty nodded.

“It’s more than a day’s salary for me.”

Running into a particularly thick mass of ponies, we stopped, and I took the opportunity to watch the luxury stall. A suspiciously short pony covered by a potato sack was approaching. The proprietor sneered and looked down his muzzle at the newcomer. Catching himself, he returned to a facade of professionalism.

“Welcome, my good pony. Will one be all? I can throw in an extra if you buy by the dozen. Smart ponies build wealth by taking advantage of great deals when they arise. Surely one as ‘sophisticated’ as yourself can appreciate this.”

The pony said nothing, but instead reached his or her muzzle forward and grabbed one of the golden apples, immediately dashing away.

“Stop! THIEF!” The owner cried.

He motioned to follow the bandit, but realized he’d be leaving his stall unattended. He then spotted Trusty.

“YOU! Do something!” the owner ordered.

Trusty nodded.

“I’m on it.”

He dashed after the thief, but soon the crowd made it impossible to continue. Meanwhile, the thief was using their short stature to duck under the crowd to make their getaway.

Not if I can help it.

Using my height, I jumped up on the wooden roof of a nearby house and jumped to an extruded stone block and onto a roof. The drab potato sack easily stood out in the crowd, and I didn’t take my sight off the thief for a single moment as I jumped from roof to roof.

The pony was fast, but fortunately my conditioning had given me considerable speed, even without my geomancy. Soon he or she turned onto a less crowded street, and I saw my opportunity. Cushioning my fall with a fabric awning I bounced to the ground, rolled into the pony thief and, using all of my strength, dragged the undersized pony to the ground. The golden exquisite apple dropped from their mouth and rolled a bit off the side of the road.

They tried pulling away with all of their strength, but I grabbed their tail and then pinned them to the ground. I felt a powerful kick from a set of back hooves. It hurt, but it was barely stronger than Trusty’s magically weakened kicks from when we sparred. I smirked, loving that they were putting up a fight.

Time to show them what thieves deserve.

I raised my fist with no intention of holding back, relieved that violence was the answer for once in this world. However, just as I was ready to bring it down, a flash of fire appeared between me and the thief. Momentarily blinded, I rubbed my eyes before taking a second look.

In front of me was a small orange bird wearing a sun-shaped mask and a miniature jumpsuit. For some reason, it was slowly shaking its beak at me. Then it landed on the bundled thief and pointed a wing down at it. All the while, a small crowd of ponies was gathering around in awe at the scene before them.

“Praise Celestia! It’s Rising Sun,” A mare exclaimed.

“Rising Sun? You mean the mysterious sun-themed, masked vigilante?” a male voice asked rhetorically.

“Yes, that’s the one all right. Nobody needed that information, Exposition Sayer.”

“I can’t help it, okay. It’s my special talent, okay? For better or worse.”

“Aron! Wait!” a commanding voice bellowed.

I turned my head to see the Princess of the Night descending with Trusty Stead securely held to her barrel. She put him down and turned to the masked bird.

“Well done, Rising Sun. Good work.”

The masked bird saluted and flew off.

I returned my gaze to the ponies and they were looking at me disapprovingly.

“What!? This pony stole from an honest street vendor. They’re the bad guy here!” I said, defending my intended retaliation.

“That’s not how we do things here in Equestria,” Luna said, shaking her head. “And besides, you may want to take a closer look at the “pony” you were about to hit.

“What do you mean?” I asked rhetorically.

Curious, I reached under the potato sack and attempted to pull the pony’s head out without releasing them. Shockingly, the thief’s body split in half under the potato sack, and what I had in my grasped was surprisingly light. To my surprise, the thief was actually a blue-furred orange-maned colt no bigger than Pestle.

“Let go of me!” he said, struggling in my grip. “You unicorns think you’re so great with your magic! In a straight-up fight you know you’d lose.”

“Blueberry, don’t say bad things about unicorns,” the female voice from before said. The other half of the thief’s body emerged in the form of an orange-maned, purplish-red filly.

“Ow!” she said, and I realized I was still pinning her tail.

“Sapphire, you can release them,” Trusty said..

Luna looked confused for a moment, but comprehension seemed to quickly dawn on her.

“But they stole that golden apple! They’re thieves; they’ll bolt the moment I let go of them.”

Luna approached us and looked the filly and colt in the eyes.

“Will you run off if he lets you go?” she asked sternly.

The foals flinched away, intimidated by Luna’s sheer size—and perhaps something else too.

“No…” they whispered in sync.

Luna looked at me with the same authoritarian expression. “Let them go, Sapphire. I trust them.”

Reluctantly I set Blueberry down and took my knee off the filly’s tail. The pair of them glared at me, but their attention quickly returned to Luna.

“Follow us,” she ordered.

The foals nodded bashfully, clearly knowing they were in trouble. As Luna scowled my way, I began to suspect I was too.

I’m not liking this ring too much. It makes everyone treat me like a child.

We followed Luna in silence back to the castle, with Trusty rounding out the rear of our party. The foals were practically shuddering, as not one peep was heard from them. Also, Trusty was apparently in professional mode, eyes fixed straight in front of him. It may have been a tense atmosphere, but I felt at home in it. After all of the day’s activity, it was nice to get a breather that silence could provide. After all, who knew what the second half of the day would bring.

In no time at all, we arrived back at the castle. The bustling sound of hundreds of hooves hard at work replaced the silence. We were led into a large throne room with ornate stained-glass windows. Guards were in each corner of the room, while three ponies stood at the center of the room, only two of which I recognized.

Celestia stood beside a pink alicorn with a multicolored pink, white and purple mane. Beside her was a buff unicorn stallion with a white coat and blue mane.

With a wave of a hoof, Celestia motioned us forward then waved over a white and pink earth pony who was holding a quill and piece of parchment.

“Quick Script, take note: we, Princess Celestia, Princess Luna and Princess Mi Amore Cadenza hereby claim jurisdiction of this case: Apple Exquisite vs….”

Celestia glanced inquisitively at the colt and filly, firm but not completely devoid of gentleness.

After a long pause, the two finally realized that she wanted them to supply their names.

“I’m Blueberry Citrus,” the colt said.

“Raspberry Citrus,” his apparent sister supplied.

As they finished, the earth pony started rapidly scribbling on the parchment.

“When will the plaintiff arrive?” Celestia asked her sister.

“Soon,” Luna said. “He closes his stand in fifteen minutes and should be here soon after. I don’t expect him to press hard given his grumbling about time and money.”

“Very well,” Celestia said, suddenly turning to me. “Aron, could you come with me, there’s something we must discuss.”

Somewhat nervous, I nodded and followed her out of the room, Luna on my tail.

With luck, I’ll never have to use that expression literally.

As we put the room behind us, I could hear Princess Mi Amore ask the children, “Can you tell me where your parents are?” in the sweetest manner possible.

Celestia led me to the first room down the hall to the left, and given this world’s propensity for comedy, I half-expected it to be a broom-closet. However, almost, disappointingly, it was a fairly spacious conference room.

“You can take off the ring,” Luna said curtly.

I happily complied, but the atmosphere of the room meant this gesture couldn’t provide me with much relief.

“You’re late,” Celestia said, trying to downplay her annoyance. “I figured you were out with Trusty—don’t get me wrong he was perfectly within his right to take you; I figure it’s good that you feel comfortable with him. However, I thought my note stressed how important this is. I never like coming off like our time is too important to lose, but Cadance and I had some events planned, which we had to cancel because we were waiting for you. I suppose it worked out all right, since we can now settle this dispute, but why, Aron? Did you just lose track of time?”

I felt like I should apologize, but nothing she had said made sense. “Hold on, you never mentioned any of this. I didn’t know, and Trusty didn’t seem to know either.”

Celestia frowned. “Didn’t you get my note? I even enchanted it so you couldn’t miss it—a useful bit of magic, though easy to abuse.”

“Well I didn’t see—hang on, you mean that piece of paper with all those weird symbols? That was from you?”

“Yes, didn’t you read who it was from? I suppose my signature is a bit stylized, but it’s still perfectly legible.”

This seemed to be a sore subject with her.

Luna turned towards Celestia with the look of a half-formed epiphany on her face..

“So you did have the foresight to cast a translation spell on Aron’s clothing? Good thinking. I confess I had not remembered to take precautions for the language barrier myself.”

Celestia’s expression immediately became the opposite of her sister’s, warping into befuddlement.

“What do you mean, Luna? I cast no such spell. Weren’t you the one who cast the translation spell?”

The confusion spread to Luna’s muzzle as she slowly shook her head.

“And I had assumed it was you. Perhaps Twilight?”

“No. Although Rarity aided in preparing Aron’s wardrobe, I detected no residual magic on the clothing when we received it. Twilight couldn’t have had access to the clothes after that.”

“Then how...”

“I...I don’t know?”

The sisters gazed into each other’s eyes, exchanged a rapid, non-verbal conversation and seemed to come to an understanding.

“This is most troubling,” Luna said, “but we can understand if you couldn’t read it. Perhaps… Aron, are you literate? In your native tongue I mean.”

“Yes…”I said, trying my best not to be offended. “I can read both my native tongue and the language we are speaking now—we call it Lucens.”

“Hmm, any translation spell should have also applied to literacy as well. It doesn’t make any sense, but a spell is the best explanation we have,” the Night Princess mused. “But wait, most translation spells map the target language onto the user’s native tongue. Do you know of any exception, Tia?”

“No, I do not. This is most strange.”

Celestia made it a point to smile at me.

“In that case, it is a lack of diligence on our part. We should have foreseen this and informed Trusty of our plans. I hope you accept our apologies,” the Sun Princess said.

“No need to apologize,” I said. “Although, I am curious why didn’t you just have Trusty relay the message. He had to bring me the magic ring after all.”

“There is a reason, though not necessarily a most compelling one given the outcome,” Luna said. “It was by design that Cadance and Shining Armor’s arrival was kept a secret. If word leaked out to the housekeeping staff, they would have worked their tails off making the castle perfect. We could have told them this is unnecessary, since the royal couple will be here for only a short while; however, we doubted they would listen.”

“In other words,” Celestia said smiling, “maybe we should have trusted the pony with trust in his name.”

“An apt way of putting it,” Luna remarked.

“Aron, I have a proposal,” Celestia said, clearing her throat. “We would like you to observe this proceeding. We think it would be helpful for you to observe how we rule in Equestria.”

“Hang on! I have no intention of staying here, and you shouldn’t expect me to—”

“That’s not what we mean,” Luna said, waving her hooves in front of her defensively. “We confess that should you become a princess of Equestria this experience will indeed be useful. Instead, however, our intent is that you learn how justice is dealt in Equestria. I’m sure your home world does it more punitively, correct? That is why you wished to castigate the foals physically?”

I nodded tentatively.

“Then this will be a good chance for you to see our way. Come, let us return to the throne room.”

I followed them back and we waited in stiff silence for the better part of twenty minutes. Finally the shopkeeper entered in a huff.

All three princesses straightened their bodies. Despite still being drained of vitality, Celestia still emanated an aura of royal grace. She began by dictating the case name, the date, those presiding over the case, and witnesses present. Once finished she seemed to acknowledge the trial’s participants for the first time.

“It has been established that you, Raspberry and Blueberry Citrus stole this trademarked Golden Exquisite apple from Apple Exquisite’s stall”—she levitated the golden exquisite apple into view— “You then fled on foot before being captured by the combined efforts of a passing colt and local superhero Rising Sun. Does either party dispute these facts?”

“I do not,” the earth stallion said.

“No,” the foals squeaked out.

“There’s no need to be scared,” the pink princess said warmly. “As long as you tell the truth, you will be protected by the law. This version of the case isn’t set in stone, so you should speak now if you disagree with this version of the story.”

The children quietly deliberated amongst themselves before once more affirming that Celestia’s version of the case was correct.

“Then with this, we can proceed to the reparations stage. Apple Exquisite, do you claim damages beyond this single apple?”

The stallion looked bored, clearly thinking he had better things to do.

“I do not.”

“As restitution, will you accept the return of this apple along with the apologies of these foals?”

The stallion shifted his gaze towards the children and sneered at them, clearly holding a grudge.

“I will not,” he said. “Those apples, grown through our patented process, are sold with the ironclad guarantee of quality. I couldn’t possibly breach the trust of my customers by selling them something that has touched the street.”

Celestia, unmoved, simply responded, “Then what if I bought this apple from you? Would any grievance remain?”

The stallion looked relieved, but nonetheless he put up a token facade of politeness.

“Princess, I couldn’t possibly sell you tainted goods. It would be a slight towards you to accept full price for an apple that has touched the ground.”

“I’m sure somepony will still be able to enjoy it,” Celestia said curtly. Clearly she thought he was making a big deal out of nothing.

“Then, I humbly accept.”

He took a small bag of bits in mouth, and relieved to be done, trotted out the door, in-between two pegasus guards.

Celestia magically split the apple and gave a slice to everyone in the room, including the guards. It was small enough to eat in a single bite, and I chewed it, savoring the taste. Its sweetness was leveled out by a tinge of bitterness, but given the freshness it shared with most food in this world, I still enjoyed it.

“Such a pedestrian taste,” Luna griped.

“Indeed,” Celestia affirmed. “You can pick any apple off an Apple family tree, and it would be better. I do not understand why the nobles make such of a point of paying so much for these apples.”

“They’ve got to show off the wealth somehow,” Cadance provided, sounding like she was speaking from experience.

The foals held these apple slices in front of them, unsure what to do.

“You may eat,” Celestia said. “It is my apple, and I am allowing you to have some.”

After a few seconds of silence, the foals desire to comply with the maternal alicorn won out over their hesitation. From their expressions they clearly had had better apples before. Though they didn’t dare voice this complaint, it was obvious that they thought it sour.

“Now, can you tell me why you did what you did, my little ponies?”

The siblings looked at each other and nodded. “There’s a mean filly at our school named Annuity,” the sister said.

“She’s the worst,” Blueberry chimed in.

“She’s always picking on us,” Raspberry said.

“And her friends never let us play with them.”

I was wishing Celestia would ask, “What does any of this have to do with stealing an apple?” but for her part, the princess patiently waited for them to get to the point.

“She makes fun of us all the time because our family isn’t rich like theirs,” Raspberry said.

“She told us we could be friends if we brought her a Golden Exquisite apple”—

“But our moms said no—"

“And that there was no good reason why we shouldn’t be happy with regular apples.”

With how they were finishing each other’s sentences, I figured the two of them must be twins.

Then again, my brother and I never had any of that twin sync going for us, I thought to myself.

Princess Cadance chimed in, sweetly coddling the foals, “Did you tell your parents why you wanted it?”

“Yeah!” the colt answered quickly.

“But Mama Peach never believes us.”

“She says there’s no way in Equestria the daughter of Generous Endowment could turn out rotten.”

“Everypony always says that!” the filly whined.

Luna nodded in understanding. “Generous Endowment… he has quite a reputation. There’s certainly no shortage of charities and public libraries bearing his name. I hear he even volunteers himself on occasion.”

Celestia cleared her throat in an unassuming manner; nevertheless every pair of eyes in the room turned to watch her.

“Bullying is nothing to take lightly, and I will see what I can do about your situation.”

“Where do you go to school, little ones?” Princess Mi Amore Cadenza asked

“Canterlot First,” they answered simultaneously, smiling and hoof-bumped each other.

“HOWEVER,” Luna articulated, thrusting out her wings. “This is no excuse for thievery!”

The children shook a little. “But all we needed was one little apple—honest! We’ll never do it again!” Raspberry said.

The pink princess slowly shook her head. “What do you think would happen if everypony did what you did today?”

After a pause, the blue colt said, “Mr. Exquisite wouldn’t have any apples left.”

I had to stop myself from snickering at the simplistic answer to the much more general philosophical question.

Celestia smiled warmly at their answer and gently explained, “In a way you are correct. Little misdeeds add up and can escalate into much bigger problems. If everypony took what little things when they needed them, nopony’s belongings would be safe. Do you understand?”

The foals nodded remorsefully.

“How do you propose to atone,” Luna asked, stepping slowly towards them and stroking their withers with a wing.

“I...I guess we can pay for the apple,” Blueberry offered.

“That is one solution,” Celestia said. “However, if you had one-hundred bits, you wouldn’t have taken the apple in the first place.”

“Right…” Raspberry said.

“Instead, I want you to do something for me.”

The foals looked up. “Do you want us to slay a dragon?” Blueberry asked.

Celestia laughed. “No, much simpler than that: I just want you to help some ponies in the community by volunteering. In the same way that acts of petty thievery can hurt ponies, I want you to see that little acts of kindness towards others can go a long way towards making Equestria a better place.”

From here, the princesses explained that the two were to do five hours of community service each and laid out several suggestions. The three princesses expressed a hope that they would continue volunteering beyond their sentence.

Then, a pair of mares showed up to retrieve the children. They were clearly upset and thoroughly chewed out their children in front of everyone present. Clearly, the mares had their own sentence to dish out on top of that of the law. I, however, was more interested in these ponies’ relationships.

Did I assume too much? Are they not brother and sister? But then, why are their mothers lecturing them together?

Judging by their mane colors, Blue-maned Peach Spring was Blueberry’s mother, while fuschia-maned Lemon Rose was Raspberry’s.

Afterwards, the three princesses and the unicorn I assumed was a prince brought me to the dining room from before. This time, we didn’t bother with the secret passage and instead found the proper entrance not far from the throne room.

The newcomer’s introduced themselves as soon as we sat down in the cramped room: Princess Mi Amore Cadenza went by Cadance, while her husband was called Shining Armor.

“So are you a Prince?” I asked.

“No, no,” he said waving his hooves defensively.

“Guilt by association,” Luna explained, turning to Celestia. “I fear your ‘nephew’ has ruined that title for generations to come.”

Cadance smiled at me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Aron. I can’t wait to get to know you better, even though, fortune willing, our time together will be short. Naturally, you want to return to your real family, but know if it comes to it, I will love you as your big cousin.”

I knew I should have been annoyed with the way she casually brought up the possibility of me being stuck here as a filly, but she was so earnest that I just had to forgive her for relishing the thought.

“So, Aron, what did you make of the trial proceedings?”

I sighed, deciding to be honest. “Well, Princess, I thought the children got off too easily. I understand it’s not the standard here, but I would have been beaten if I had stolen something as expensive as that apple. Even so, if you let them off so lightly, would that deter anyone else? I understand they are children, but the punishment should be somewhat proportional to the crime."

“So you subscribe to the doctrine that the punishment should fit the crime,” Luna said. “Indeed, that was our way once, but we have since abandoned it, for punishment is not the objective of justice.”

“Our philosophy,” Celestia explained, “is that a trial deals out what is necessary for the good of everypony. In this case, the foals didn’t seem like they would do it again, so we ordered them to community service in order to help them grow as ponies. Doing this is the best outcome for all, whereas extracting a fine from their poor family or hurting them would only make them resentful. We don’t want to punish them and have them wrong other ponies.”

I wanted to debate this, but the food then arrived. It was a vegetarian palette much of the same as before, save for a large, iced cupcake prominently placed at the center of each plate. The ponies wasted no time in devouring this treat, while I carefully ate around it. I tried to push it to the side of my plate in a vain attempt to make it less obvious, but Luna nonetheless noticed.

“Does your kind, not know of cupcakes?”

“No,”I said, “I know what a cupcake is; it’s just that I don’t eat them.”

“If you’d like we could bring in some cookies instead,” Celestia offered.

“No,” I said, “I don’t eat any sugar on principle.”

“None at all?” Cadance asked, appalled.

“None at all. On my world it’s considered a vice. Sugar rots the teeth and is detrimental to our health.”

“Hmm...” Celestia said, “For ponies it is the complete opposite—fascinating.”

“Reminds me of Twilight—the way you said that,” Shining Armor said, chuckling. “Has she ever turned down learning something new? Actually, I’m surprised she’s not here with us.”

Celestia laughed along. “Well, where do you think she got her sense of curiosity from?” she said coyly. “No, no, I can’t take all the credit. But to answer your question, she’s been away from Ponyville for some time and missed her friends. However, I’m sure she’ll come galloping back here once she learns of the mystery of the phantom translation spell. Aron, I hoped you enjoyed your stay in Twilight’s lab, because chances are you’ll be spending a lot more time there.”

“Great…” I said sarcastically.

From there, I told them about my day, filling in the parts they didn’t know. They gasped when I told them of the close call with Pestle Mix, and agreed that it was Equestria becoming increasingly aggressive in its attempts to correct me. Cadance found Trusty’s encounter with Wallflower absolutely adorable. She explained that her special talent was Love, and she loved hearing about all forms of romance.

“Wallflower’s one of mine,” Cadance explained. “She was one of the first pegasi to join the new Crystal Guard.”

“She’s more than a wee bit shy, but she has proven she can pull her weight,” Shining said.

Cadance seemed to be reminiscing. “Being in love can be so hard when you can’t confess. I wish her the best of luck.”

“Hey now,” Shining said, nuzzling his wife. “It’s not so easy for the stallions either.

“Hehe. I know dear,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheeks.

These ponies just met! I thought. Why are they so certain there’s going to be something between Trusty and Wallflower?

“Oh, that reminds me,” I interjected. “I thought those foals were brother and sister, but then two different mares showed up to get them? Are—I don’t want to sound absurd, but were they…”

“Yes, Peach and Lemon are special someponies,” Cadance explained. “Raspberry and Blueberry are lucky enough to have two mothers. There are three mares for every two stallions, so it’s natural that some mares fall in love with each other.”

Luna frowned in realization. “Do you have a problem with this?”

“No, no,” I said quickly. “We haven’t had taboos around that sort of thing for ages; although we are encouraged to marry for children, so it’s not preferred…”

I paused, thinking how to phrase my next question, concerning the children’s father. However, at that moment a certain purple alicorn poofed into the room, shouted, “Hi, everypony. Bye, everypony,” and picked me up with her magic to whisk me off to her lab.

I spent the next three hours being asked some variation of, “Can you understand me now?”

It was not my idea of an exciting afternoon.

Author's Note

Whew. I may have gone overboard with the sheer number of new developments here. At least I'll have material for a while.

Chapter 9

Several hours later I slumped out through the inconspicuous wall. Twilight followed a few paces behind, monologuing to herself.

“This can’t be. There’s no way a language, independently invented across universes could have a similarity threshold less than eighty. The similar vocabularies alone have a p value less than 0.005. And that’s not even taking into account the identical slang and grammar! Are you sure you showed me the right world in the mirror?”

I shook my head perturbed.

“I think I can identify my own homeworld—and my own sister for that matter.”

The mare got a wild look in her eye, but then she started shaking her head vigorously followed by stretching her face with her hooves.

Taking a deep breath, she said, “I think I’m going to lie down.”

She definitely needed a long, long nap, though I kept this observation to myself.

Walking parallel to the wall, she stopped abruptly as another secret doorway opened in the inconspicuous wall. A familiar masked bird flew through and posed dramatically.

“Hi, Rising Sun,” Twilight yawned. “Out to fight for love and friendship?”

The bird squawked, nodding.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask: can I get an autograph for Spike? He’s a big fan.”

She summoned a pen and paper with her magic, and the crime fighter signed in what even I could tell was an illegible scrawl. The bird then saluted and flew off.

Should I even ask?

“Twilight,” I asked, too weary to bother with her title, “I know this place isn’t prone to acquiesce to common sense, but why is there a crime fighting bird coming out of the wall?”

“Oh, Rising Sun? Well, when I was remodeling the castle for my secret lab, the renovators were running a buy-one-get-one-free special on secret lairs. It seemed wasteful to leave the other empty, so Celestia let Rising Sun move in rent-free.”

“That… doesn’t answer my question.”

“Weren’t you asking why Rising Sun’s secret lair is next to mine?”

“No, I mean why is there a crime-fighting bird coming out of the wall? Why am I surrounded by talking ponies? And why does this world think I’m an alicorn filly?”

I panted a little bit. I’d had no idea how much I needed to get that off my chest.

Twilight cocked her head.

“I’m not sure how the first question is any different from before? I’m still trying to understand the third myself.” She smiled. “But the models to answer the second are actually fascinating. Scientists currently think that song magic latched onto the primeval ponies’ brains and speech was developed to express what they felt. Other species are thought to have developed language from observing this. Although, this theory is criticized for being pony-centric, but I personally feel it has the best evidence.”

I yawned, not knowing how long Twilight had kept me under the microscope. Clearly she wasn’t the only one in dire need of rest.

Walking along with her as she rambled on, I let my mind drift, mulling on the absurdity of it all. It was mostly an intellectual exercise as I had become inured to much of the strangeness around me. Perhaps the best evidence of my fast adaptation was that in thinking I could no longer be surprised by this world, something was almost certain to prove me wrong.

“And furthermore, the fact that most animals show a basic musical competence suggests that it may be a precursor to developing speech.”

“Hi Twilight! Hi, not-Princess Aron!” bellowed the most enthusiastic voice I’d ever heard.

With an audible bounce a very pink pony bounced in front of us and smiled wider than I’d thought possible.

“Pinkie, what are you doing here?” Twilight asked, happily surprised. “Shouldn’t you be back in Ponyville preparing for—you know...”

“Well, I was working super-duper hard, running all around Ponyville getting ready when I didn’t realize what kind of cake to get for the—” the pink earth pony closed the distance between us instantly and put a pair of earmuffs on my head.

Between suppressing my reflex to counterattack and processing what had just happened, it took me several seconds to pull the earmuffs off.

“—think a Princess theme would be a good idea,” Twilight said.

“No sugar!?” the hyperactive mare squealed, as if appalled by the mere words.

Twilight shook her head with understanding. “None.”

The pink one turned pale and fainted, all four hooves in the air.

I moved closer, looking her over.

“Is she—”

“Okay!” She exclaimed, springing up to her hooves again. “I Pinkamena Diane Pie accept the challenge. I’ll make it the best ever! Just for you.”

“Make what?” I asked dumbly.

“That would spoil the surprise, silly filly!” she said, booping my nose lightly.

Am I supposed to know this crazy pony?

“Well, I have an express train to catch. See ya!”

The mare was out of sight before I could muster any sort of reaction. Twilight started to lead me back to my room, and I accepted the courtesy without a word. However, soon enough, my curiosity overcame me.

“Princess Twilight.”

“Yes, Aron?”

“Who in Tartarus was that? Wait… don’t tell me she’s another princess?” I had more than enough to keep track of already, but from my experience thus far I wouldn’t have been shocked if every town was governed by its own princess.

Twilight giggled.

“Equestria would certainly be more… fun, to say the least, if Pinkie was an alicorn. But no, she’s one of my friends back in Ponyville. I can’t exactly say what she does without spoiling the surprise, so you’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Oh, and I don’t know if Celestia mentioned it, but she wants you to wear the ring—at least until we get there.”

“How has that been working, by the way?” she added as an afterthought.

I stopped abruptly.

Looks like someone’s codes are compromised, I thought, using the old military idiom. Is proper and timely communication too much to ask for here?

“Wait…” Twilight said, flapping her wings to turn on a dime to face me. “Did I whisk you off to my lab before Celestia could tell you we’re going to Ponyville tomorrow?”

I glared at her.

“Sorry…”

She blushed profusely. I studied her face closely, overwhelmed by cuteness.

My trip aboard the Friendship Express was mostly tolerable. The food was a noticeable step down from the palace, but that was to be expected. My only complaint was that “Sapphire Luster” continued to invite fawning from passing mares as well as stallions. As there were no other foals aboard, I stood out. Some asked why I wasn’t in school, and thankfully I had Trusty’s cover story. Even though the commute was short, I yearned to take off the ring. I voiced this desire as soon as we stepped off the train and onto the platform.

“Not now, Aron, wait until we’re safely in the castle. Normally you being seen wouldn’t be much of an issue, but I don’t want to take any chances—not today.”

With little time to ponder that cryptic comment I was immediately rushed by a familiar filly unicorn.

“Hi! Are you new? There aren’t many other unicorn foals in Ponyville. Do you want to play? We can be friends. It’s really boring having to stay out of school.”

“Dinky,” said her pegasus mother, “He’s with Princess Twilight. I’m sure what she wants with him is important.”

She eyed Princess Twilight, as if expecting approval. The alicorn shied away, clearly uncomfortable with something.

Dinky’s horn had healed considerably since I had last seen her. As opposed to the fractured state from before, it now only looked chipped around the tip. My slumbering brain put the situation together lackadaisically: Filly unicorn. Chipped horn. Volatile.

I am ashamed to admit that the pony princess reacted before I could. As if anticipating the magic even before the first sparks started to fly, she erected a hemispheric purple barrier between me and Dinky. A brief jet of yellow light shot out of her horn and was absorbed effortlessly.

She blushed and hid behind her mother, without even an apology.

“I’m sorry about that,” the mare said. “The truth is my little muffin still has a problem with magic surges. Please don’t tell anyone.”

Reaching into the courier’s bag at her flank, she pulled out a muffin and offered it to me. I did my best to politely decline, which seemed to disappoint her. She then introduced the two of them as Ditzy Doo and Dinky Doo, and I offered the usual pseudonym in return. For obvious reasons, both Twilight and I were in a hurry to end the encounter, so we bid them farewell.

“I don’t want to steal Pinkie’s thunder, but let me be the first to say welcome to Ponyville.”

In a word, my surroundings were idyllic. We strolled past rows of identical straw-roofed cottages. I found the uniformity of these structures unbecoming of this land. As if in response we then walked by a building stylized to look like it was made of gingerbread.

“That’s Sugarcube Corner,” Twilight explained. “Pinkie Pie works there during the day. But she and the others are waiting for us at the castle. I can’t wait to introduce my friends to you!”

“Then why are we walking in the wrong direction.”

Twilight looked confused.

“You’ve never been here before, how did you know that?”

I raised a brow at her.

“The giant purple palace on the horizon isn’t exactly inconspicuous.”

Twilight shook her head and pressed a hoof to her temple.

“Sometimes it’s the most obvious details… But, to answer your question, I promised Rarity I’d do her a favor.”

We soon came to what looked like a circus tent made of fine fabrics. The whole block seemed to be themed in a similar matter, but this one was definitely the most extravagant. Twilight knocked on a second story window with her magic.

“Sweetie Belle!” Twilight called. “Are you awake?”

The unicorn filly I knew best slowly pushed open the window and yawned.

“Hello, Twilight,” she said nasally, sniffling. “What do you want?”

“Nothing,” Twilight said. “I just was checking up on you for Rarity. Are you doing all right?”

“If by all right you mean sick as a diamond dog, I guess—say, who’s that with you?”

“Well—” Twilight turned to me and nodded, and I quickly removed the ring and quickly replaced it. “This is Aron’s disguise.”

“Hi, Aron. That’s a cool disguise. It’s nice to see hhh—you…”

Sweetie Belle closed her eyes and gave a few huffs. Reacting instantaneously, Twilight slammed the window shut with her magic. A moment later, the filly sneezed, shooting out a light green beam with her horn simultaneously. The window shattered outward with a crash. However, Twilight effortlessly caught the pieces with her magic and just as easily reassembled them into one piece and set it back into the window frame.

I was torn between conflicting emotions. Part of me berated myself for once more having to being slower than Twilight to recognize danger. On the other hand, I was in awe at how Twilight’s magic was able to restore something so thoroughly broken to its original state. I was almost envious; though who wouldn’t want something so useful? I’m sure my people could make great use of it.

“Sorry,” Sweetie Belle sniffed.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Twilight said reassuringly. “Get some more rest, okay? Your parents should be here soon.”

Too tired to answer, Sweetie Belle nodded and shut the window with her own magic.

“Thanks,” I said hesitantly as we headed towards the castle.

“No problem.”

Our walk was eerily silent. Twilight was more alert than I had ever seen before, scrutinizing every passing pony and constantly monitoring our surroundings.I appreciated this and resolved to be just as vigilant, scanning the gaggles of earth ponies for any horns among them. But aside from cautiously grabbing my hand-mounted crystal a few times, the walk was uneventful.

I was tempted to toss the cursed ring away for good once we arrived, but I checked that irrational feeling. The first thing I noticed on entering was the pristine new-castle smell. I couldn’t explain it, but it smelled exactly how a new castle seemed like it would. Celestia’s castle had been immaculately clean itself, Twilight’s looked as if it had no concept of dust or grime.

I followed the castle’s regent into what appeared to be her throne room. However, instead of one crystal throne, seven surrounded a large glass table. Each had a colorful symbol printed on it.

“I’ve been meaning to ask—I hope this isn’t out of place—but what’s with those symbols. Trusty, the guard, told me about his, but what are they exactly? And what do they mean?”

“Cutie marks? I suppose you wouldn’t know about them, which isn’t all that unusual, but it’s another thing I guess we take for granted. Basically, when a pony discovers what their special talent is, their own one-of-a-kind cutie mark appears on their flank. It’s a rite of passage, and it proves to the world that the pony is capable in the pertinent profession. On a more personal level, it’s the core of our sense of identity, representing who we are as a pony.”

I scowled.

“Sounds like more destiny-policing to me,” I said scathingly. “So they just appear and tell you what your place in the world is?”

Twilight seemed confused as to what was distressing me.

“No, they don’t just appear on their own. Normally a pony has to reach an epiphany about what they enjoy most in this world, or achieve something that leaves no doubt about their aptitude. It means a lot to most ponies; earning it is usually the happiest of memories.”

I stood stiffly, not daring risking the impudence of sitting down in one of the thrones. I knew the ponies weren’t ones to snap at breaks in courtesy, but I still owed the princess a certain amount of respect for her office.

“Of course,” Twilight continued, “It’s often up to the pony to determine the meaning of their mark. My friend Fluttershy, for instance, has a cutie mark of three butterflies. She could take this literally and become a butterfly keeper, but that would be a misunderstanding of who she is as a pony. Instead, her cutie mark is proof of her gentle, caring nature, and she chose to channel that part of herself into caring for animals. She could have conceivably gone into foal services, or become a social worker or nurse. With hindsight, those would have been less of a fit for her, but she still could have applied her mark to them and been happy. How do you do it on your world Aron? Does everypony just choose something without guidance?”

I froze. It was a sobering realization: I had had less free will in choosing my lot in life than ponies who had destiny scribbling their fates on their butts.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Twilight quickly added, detecting my discomfort. “Of course, some marks are easier to understand than others.”

“Howdy, Twilight,” a mare’s voice said, slurring her speech.

It’s owner was an orange and blond earth pony wearing some sort of felt hat. She had a powerful build. Though not any bigger than any other mare I had seen, she was more muscular than even the royal guards. With Twilight’s explanation in hand, I took note of the trio of red apples on her flank. I certainly didn’t need to be a seer to guess what this one might mean.

“Sorry Ah’m late. Ah had some extra chores to do, since Big Mac can’t be counted on fer nothin’ durin’ the hoofball playoffs. Who’s this little fella?”

Once again I removed the ring and replaced it in order to quickly dispel the illusion for this new pony. She seemed taken aback at my sudden increase in size. I still didn’t know who was supposed to be in on the secret and who wasn’t, so I opted to keep it on going forward.

“It’s fine; you’re still actually early, Applejack,” Twilight said. “‘Everypony else is already here, though, so we can get started. I’m sure Aron is dying to know why he’s here.”

I nodded tentatively at this, and we followed a couple of hallways towards what felt like the back of the castle. Their conversation was clearly one between friends, and I felt out of place.

“By the way, thank Big Mac for me for taking Spike to the hoofball game. It means a lot to him to be able to bond with one of the guys. Besides, I personally can’t stand the noise.”

“Yeah, Ah know. I can appreciate the physical part of it, but I don’ see where the fun is in tryin’ to run other ponies over.”

“I don’t know either, but I guess colts will be colts,” Twilight giggled.

“That they will,” said Applejack.

After a few minutes of walking we came to a polished purple door marked with three butterflies. We pushed it open to reveal an open outdoor space decorated with luxuries for pets. A pristine pond sat in the center, birdhouses hung from the castle roof, and there was even an agility course. A few birds were eating out of nearby feeders, chirping happily and a stray cat was scratching on a post; however, it was mostly unoccupied.

“This is Fluttershy’s room,” Twilight explained, “the chamber of the Element of Kindness.”

I looked around, confused at what appeared ostensibly to be a yard. The only accommodation for ponies I could spot was a simple hammock hung by the bird feeders.

“Hello, Twilight,” a sweet, melodious voice came from above.

“Oh… hello, Princess Twilight…”

Two pegasi alighted. One was a pink-maned butter-colored pegasus. who owned a cutie mark identical to the symbol on the door. Cowering behind her was a near-identical pegasus, I was sure I had seen before.

She smiled at me, saying, “Hi, Sapphire.”

Now I know.

“Hi, Fluttershy. Hi, Wallflower,” Twilight said.

Wow she looks different without the armor, I thought.

Curious from the earlier discussion, I looked to her flank and saw her cutie mark—it was a violet.

“How are you liking your room, Fluttershy?”

“Oh… it’s very nice, but I would—I mean, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll keep living in my house. The animals like it better there—and me too.”

She seemed to shrink away at uttering that admission.

Twilight approached Fluttershy and put a hoof on her withers.

“It’s fine, Fluttershy. Everypony else feels the same way.”

“Yeah, mah cabin suite sure is cozy as far as a home away from home goes, but that don’t make it mah home. I still have apples to buck; I can’t go movin’ in here.”

“I understand,” Twilight said, slightly saddened. “But remember that you’re always welcome to come and go as you please.”

“Okay…”

“Will do.”

Distracted, I was caught unaware by Wallflower creeping towards me.

"I didn’t expect to see you here, Sapphire. Are you a friend of the Cutie Mark Crusaders?” Wallflower asked.

“Actually, this is Aron,” Fluttershy explained. “Remember what we talked about? How he’s the human who came here from another world.”

Wallflower retreated a few steps back and tried to hide behind her sister. This didn’t work very well, as she was about a hand taller than her sister. I almost snorted at this sight, but I had the sense hold back.

“He’s not dangerous,” Twilight said reassuringly.

I looked Wallflower in the eyes and she took a few steps back; however—

“Oh, I just can’t help it you’re too cute!”

And she pounced on me with a jump backed by the strength of her surprisingly powerful wings, wrapping her forehooves around my ankles and nuzzling them.

If hugging children you barely know is a norm in this world, I really need to leave soon, or there will be a lot more of that in my future. I cringed

“Now, Wallflower, you’ll see him later. Why don’t we see if we can invite more birds here,” she said, winking conspicuously at her sister.

“Oh—oh okay.”

With that, the two pegasi took off lazily into the sky.

“Let me introduce you to my other friends,” Twilight said. “Fluttershy’s the exception; the others’ rooms are on the highest level.”

I nodded wordlessly and I followed her in silence up several flights of purple stairs. I briefly wondered if the concept of garishness even existed in this world, until I remembered that I couldn’t exactly comment with my ridiculous hair. Remembering this, I briefly pawed at my new hair. It was longer than I remembered. Of course, any growth was noticeable since I kept my hair cropped short in the back, but I had to be suspicious of any change. At any rate, these stairs were much more convenient for me, though still too short to be natural. She had mentioned pony-centrism as a political idea. Perhaps this castle was an attempt to be more accommodating to other races.

I was so occupied with my thoughts that I followed her unthinkingly out of the stairwell. It only occurred to me a minute and several hallways later that this wasn’t the top floor.

“Umm… Twilight?”

“You’ll see in a second.”

She opened a door into a huge, pitch black room and gestured me in. I complied, asking, “What do you mean.”

The lights suddenly flashed on.

“SURPRISE!” a chorus of voices shouted.

Caught off guard, I looked around in a flash and saw dozens upon dozens of colorful equines, unicorns among them. Naturally this was my first concern, but before I could voice it, Pinkie Pie came bounding in front of me.

“Were you surprised? Were you?” she asked eagerly.

I let my confusion shine through on my face as I asked bluntly, “What’s this? What’s happening.”

She giggled.

“This is your welcome to Ponyville party, silly.”

“And what did I do to warrant this ‘welcome to Ponyville party?’” I asked. I then worried about sounding ungrateful and added, “It’s a very nice ‘party’ thank you.”

She seemed oblivious to the fact I was completely flabbergasted as to why almost a hundred ponies were surrounding me, talking amongst themselves and enjoying refreshments.

“I throw a party for everyone who comes to Ponyville for the first time. It says right here in Pinkie’s Manual to Eccentricity 5th edition that I am duty-bound to throw a party for everypony—nonponies included.”

She pulled out a book, which Twilight hastily grabbed in her magic. She opened it, and half a dozen rubber snakes sprung from it.

Overloaded by the strangeness, I turned to Twilight and voiced my immediate concern about the dozen or so unicorns in the room.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Twilight said. “Everypony here had their magic blocked. It’s a simple spell that wears off quickly. It’s commonly used at sporting events to prevent the spectators to interfering. You’re safe.”

Confirming for myself, I scanned the crowd again and found that there were no foals of any tribe. I could appreciate that she had thought of everything today.

“Come on!” Pinkie Pie said. “The guest of honor is here, so let’s party!” She grabbed my hand with a hoof and dragged me to the center of the room. Sensing my discomfort Twilight and Applejack followed us.

“Pinkie, can we start on the cake?” a jenny asked.

“Sure, I’ll cut it now for you, and you can dig in!” and she bounced towards the refreshment table.

“I’m sorry if this is a bit overwhelming for you. I talked her down from a ‘welcome new princess party’, so this sounded like a pretty good compromise,” she whispered. “But I guess I didn’t consider if your feelings on the matter. I probably should have asked even if it ruined the surprise.”

“I’m not mad,” I said. “I just don’t know what in the blazes I’m supposed to do in a party, or what a party is for that matter.”

“Well…”

“What!?” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, bouncing over. “Did he just say he didn’t know what a party is.”

“No,” Twilight said nervously, eyes shifting.

“Ye—” Applejack started to say before Twilight stuck a hoof in her mouth.

“Oh,” Pinkie said, somewhat dejected. “There’s a super fun song I’ve been saving to explain what parties are—just in case I meet somepony from somewhere much less fun.”

I was never more grateful for Twilight than I was in that moment.

“Pinkie, we’re out of plates,” another voice said.

“Guess I miscounted,” Pinkie said with a giggle. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

She sped away with inhuman speed, and I noticed all eyes were now on me. I remembered the ring, and what they were really seeing. For some reason I felt as small as the illusion made me feel.

“Let me introduce you to the rest of my friends, come on,” Twilight said. “I don’t think I’ve properly introduced you to Applejack yet.”

“It was mighty rude of me to not introduce mahself,” Applejack said, shaking my hand up and down. I’m Applejack of the Apple Clan. Me and mah family run sweet apple acres, and we grow the best apples in Equestria if I do say so mahself.”

We were then joined by a cyan, rainbow-maned pegasus, and a white and purple unicorn.

“This is Rainbow Dash.”

“Hey, squirt. Uhh—I mean I guess you’re not actually a foal, and I should be more respectful if you’re gonna be a princess. Maybe you can make me captain of the Wonderbolts,” she joked.

“Rainbow Dash, that is rather uncouth of you, trying to ingratiate yourself with the new princess,” Rarity said in a mock-scolding style. “But if we are going that route, you simply must consult me for all of your fashion needs. Designing for a princess is my dream.”

“Girls!” Twilight said, coming to my defense,

“Just joking, Darling,” Rarity said. “I know Aron here doesn’t want to stay. It’s a shame he can’t give me his would-be wings on the way out? I don’t suppose there’s a spell for that?”

Twilight shook her head. “Maybe Discord could do it for a little while, but it wouldn’t last. You can no more take away a pony’s wings than you can take away their cutie mark.”

Rarity turned to me again and smiled. “I personally designed your wardrobe. How do you like it?”

I was tempted to tell her the truth: that it was far too garish. However…

“Have you ever designed for humans before?”

“No, it was quite the challenge,” Rarity replied with pride.

“Then, you did very well.”

“Thank you, Dear,” Rarity said, not detecting the flipside of my otherwise genuine compliment.

At that moment however, the pink terror returned, grabbed me and said, “Come on, Aron. Let me show you around; there’s a lot to do!” I was then swept up in a tornado of activity. I was led through the excess of balloons and streamers and personally introduced to what felt like every pony in the room. I met Lyra Heartstrings, Cheerilee, Time Turner, Bulk Biceps, Roseluck, Bonbon, Vinyl Scratch, and Mr. Davenport. And that was just the first two minutes. She then forced me to try the sugar-free cake that she had baked especially for me. This was easily the highlight as the desert was perfectly fluffy and every bite was filled with rich flavor. For some reason, though only a few slices were missing from the huge cake. Meanwhile, the cupcakes were nearly gone, which thankfully gave me another break from Pinkie as she ran off to get some more.

Sensing I was lost in the activity, Princess Twilight came over and rejoined me. She said she was curious about something, and lacking anything else to do, I followed her. She took me back to Cheerilee, a magenta pony with three smiling flowers as a cutie mark. Based on Fluttershy’s cutie mark, I had a couple of good guesses about what sort of work she did.

“Hello, Cheerilee,” Twilight said.

“Oh, hello, Princess…” Cheerilee said, somewhat nervous.

“Please, just keep calling me Twilight. I don’t need anypony treating me differently now that I’m a princess.”

“All right,” Cheerilee said. “That does seem like you, but I still wasn’t sure. Anyway, how can I help Her Royal Highness?”

From her expression it took Twilight a second or so to realize Cheerilee was joking, and Her Purpleness continued, “Don’t go spreading this around, but Aron is actually from another dimension.”

“Oh my.”

“He shares a common language with us, which doesn’t make sense, but there’s one point that confounds me more than the rest: why can Aron speak our language, but can’t read it at all?”

“He can’t read!?” Cheerilee said, horrified. “A foal as old as he is!? As a teacher I can’t let that stand.” She seemed to remember something and sighed. “I’d teach you myself, except—you know…”

“I’m already considered an adult on my homeworld,” I provided. “Also, I can read my own language.”

This made her feel considerably better, surprisingly so in fact.

“Do you have any idea on why that might be?”

Cheerilee laughed nervously. “I’m not nearly the expert you are on different universes—why I just learned that they exist—however, if I had to guess, it would have to do with Comma Quibbler’s orthography reforms of the second unicorn kingdom. It was a unique point in history, and our written language could have developed in a number of ways. Perhaps Aron’s people didn’t have such an event.”

“Hmm,” Twilight said, “I briefly considered such a possibility but I ruled it out because of the dissimilarities of the universes, unless—unless it really is that simple. But there would have to be an axis of similarity that connects even dissimilar universes!”

Twilight then squeed loudly.

“Thanks, Cheerilee, you’re a genius!”

The mare raised a confused eyebrow. “Glad to help, Twilight.”

The alicorn then summoned a chalkboard, found an empty corner of the room and started scrawling strange symbols.

Unfortunately this left me completely undefended, which Pinkie Pie took prompt advantage of. WIthout warning, I felt a pair of hooves wrap some sort of cloth around my head, blinding me. She then dragged me—with surprising strength—to the other side of the room and spun me around dozens of times.

“Pin the tail on the pony time! Guest of honor gets the first go!”

She put some sort of slender yarn-based object in my hand. I felt near the top and there was tape attached to it.

“The rules are simple: try to pin the tail on the picture of Celestia somewhere in this room. AAAAND go!”

“Left! Left! Go straight” three different voices called to me.

“Your other left!”

“Right!”

I hobbled back in forth as if I had just taken a shot to the leg. I had no idea what to make of these conflicting directions.

“Forward!”

“Left!”

Left!”

“Right!”

“Left!”

“Left”

“Straight.”

“Left.”

“Right”

“Turn right!.”

“Up!”

“Left!”

“Right!”

“Left!”

“FrankerZ.”

“Left!”

“Behind you!”

“Left!”

There was a sudden silence in the room, as if in anticipation.

All of a sudden, Rainbow Dash called out, “Right in front of you! You’ve almost got it!”

Pleased to be through with this ridiculous game, I thrust the faux-tail forward, seizing victory.

Silence.

As I started to untie the blindfold, Rainbow Dash let out a barrage of hysterical hollering in her raspy manner.

I opened my eyes and beheld a familiar regal, white muzzle, with the addition of a yarn tail to her snout.

“Hello, Aron,” Celesita said, unfazed. “Welcome to Ponyville.”

Pinkie joined in with the laughter with her giggling and slowly the rest of the room started to join in as they realized it was okay to laugh at their ruler. I scanned the room, looked back at Celestia and studied her newly adorned face.

And I laughed. I laughed harder than I could remember. I modestly covered my mouth, but the chuckles continued to creep out. They sounded somewhat like high-pitched shrieks. I wanted to blame this world’s reshaping of me but it had been so long since I had laughed that I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t my normal laugh either.

When I had finished both Celestia and Pinkie looked enormously pleased. I turned to Twilight and she was also beaming at me.

“Wow, Aron. I’ve never heard you laugh before!”

“Yeah,” I said hesitantly.

I found the corner of the room with Twilight’s chalkboard and slumped against the wall. Despite their reactions, I felt I had lost a considerable amount of face.

Not too long after, the party started clearing out. A small crowd of ponies left from the door I had come through, while the majority headed to the opposite door. I opted to follow the herd into a second dark room.

“Bye! Thanks for coming!” Pinkie Pie called out. She tailed me as the last to exit the party venue.

The lights flicked on!

“SURPRISE!”

“Again!”

About half of the ponies from before were gathered in a similar room. It was covered with even more confetti, armadas of balloons, streamers, and an even more generous helping of deserts. At the center of it all was a huge banner that I couldn’t read.

Pinkie appeared in front of me again like a wraith. Tears were in her eyes.

“We’ll be really sad to see you go. It feels like we just met!”

I froze.

“What do you mean.”

“ ‘Tis exactly what it sembles: your going-away party,” Luna said.

She was flanked by Princesses Cadance and Celestia.

“I have recovered enough to send you back,” Celestia said. “Additionally, our magic can reverse the changes you suffered here. Though they would be impermanent here, your planet has no restorative force to reverse them.”

I was still speechless.

“There are no strings attached. You are going home,” Celestia said with a bittersweet smile.

“We gathered here to avoid drawing too much attention in Canterlot,” Cadance said.

“I also have a lot of resources here in my castle that can prevent things from going wrong,” Twilight explained.

It was then that Trusty Stead, sans armor, pushed his way through the crowd towards me.

“I’m gonna miss you, Aron,” he said. “Though we had our difficulties at first, I really enjoyed teaching you about Equestria. It was like having a little brother to look after…”

“Uhh… thanks,” I said tentatively. “How’d you get here anyway?” I asked, slightly irritated at the little brother comment.

“Well, a friend of mine needed some help running his cafe, so I volunteered to step in while he tries to hire somepony else. Then I heard about this fun party, and I had to come. Sugarcube Corner’s cupcakes are the best.” With that, he ate a cupcake in one bite, licking his lips thoroughly afterward.

“Go on, Wallflower you can do it,” Fluttershy whispered.

“I’m not… sure I can.”

“Yes you can. Go on!” Fluttershy said with a little push.

The shy pegasus guard tiphoofed towards Trusty and asked, barely audible, “Would… umm you like to—uhh dance… with me? If you don’t mind that is.”

“Hi, Wallflower,” Trusty said with a goofy smile. “What was that? I didn’t hear what you asked.”

“Eeek. Oh, umm nothing. Sorry to bother you. Thanks… umm—for yesterday.”

With that she retreated back behind her sister.

“Wait, Wallflower!” Trusty said, trotting after her.

“Did you see me? I did it!” Wallflower whispered.

“Yes! Good job,” Fluttershy said.

Recovering from the distraction of the oblivious pair of ponies I returned my gaze to the princesses. In truth, I still hadn’t recovered from the shock. I was going home! I should be thrilled. I will have the honor of executing my duty once more for the sake of Rhod!

“Aren’t you happy, Aron?” Celestia asked.

“Whuh? Oh, uhh… yeah! Thank you. I’m just overwhelmed.”

I looked around the colorful room with a smile.

While I’m here I may as well enjoy my last day.

“Let’s party!” I said.

And so, I did. I participated in every pony party game, danced the pony pokey, and even took a bite out of one of Pinkie’s cupcakes. As expected it was far too saccharine for my liking. I was more than happy to help myself to more sugar-free cake, though. This time, without a doubt, nobody else had taken a single piece. It was draining, but it was not much of a stretch to say I enjoyed myself a little bit. The ponies for their part, were thrilled to have me participate.

I suppose this is my way of repaying them, I thought. Tomorrow, I’ll once again live for Rhod alone.

In my top storey suite in Twilight’s castle, I enjoyed the comfiness of the minotaur-sized bed. In a way, this was like an extended vacation for me.

I shook my head.

No, this was a test of my resolve. It was to remind me why we have principles and why our fight is so important.

I heard a knock on the door.

“It’s open.”

Celestia pushed her muzzle in. In her magic field was what I was most interested in: the scrying mirror.

“Thank you for letting me use it again,” I said. “I know it’s a ridiculous request because I’ll be there tomorrow, but I guess I wanted to see it again.”

“Perfectly understandable. I’ll start by tuning it to find other humans.”

Celestia’s horn glowed gold, and the mirror shined before revealing the scene of a battlefield. At a frenetic, double-speed pace. Three dozen Rhods clashed with a horde of bearmen. The speed confused me, but I was more concerned for my comrades as they were clearly outmatched. They bravely fought tooth and nail, taking out two of the enemy for every man that fell. Though the speed detracted from their efforts, their valor still shone through.

“What’s happening?”

“I don’t know, “ Celestia said, panicked. “Normally time dilation is fairly stable in between viewings. Maybe it’s a problem with the mirror. Let me see if I can find another group.”

Celestia tuned the mirror and another losing battle played out. Holding back tears, she changed the picture again. This time, a hundred unarmed Rhods were following the bearmen underground. The pony’s expression hardened.

“Let’s find your sister. I can track her magical signature from last time.”

Celestia’s horn glowed one last time.

A chamber, deep underground, came into view. A dozen Rhods were gathered in front of what I recognized as a high shaman of the bears. My sister, Diane, was among them, as was the one I had tried to die to protect.

At the accelerated tempo of the mirror, the shaman cast an incantation, which caused his hand to glow. He touched the forehead of the first Rhod. Patches of fur grew on his body as a pair of uneven antlers sprouted suddenly and painfully from his head.

No…

My brother was next. His nose and mouth extended outward into a pseudo-muzzle

Then he touched my sister. As soon as I saw the horns start to protrude from her head, I forced my eyes away, stood up and tossed the mirror full-force towards the nearest wall.

“Aron! Wait!” Celestia called after me, catching the mirror in her magic.

I slammed the door behind me. I could hear her cantering after me, but I didn’t care; I just wanted to be alone.

Running down the hall, I picked a random door and pulled it open to hide. Confetti then exploded in my face, and I flinched back. What appeared to be a toy cannon was rigged to the door.

Oblivious to the mood, Pinkie Pie came bounding down the hall.

“I’ve been looking for party cannon #37! Thanks Aron! Twilight’s still finding them around her castle, since I can’t remember where I hid them all.”

I slumped to the floor and put my face in my hands.

No! …. no...

Author's Note

Twilight's castle-warming takes place before Starlight Glimmer's first appearance in this canon.

Chapter 10

In my room at Twilight’s castle, I stared idly at my breakfast, watching the warm toast slowly cool. A tempest of conflicting emotions rushed through me. My own sister had been taken by them—been changed by them. Though I cared for her deeply, it was my brother that stung me most. I had given everything to save him, to give him the chance to continue to fight, and he had laid down his arms and given into them. Our fight was one of principles. We stand for ambition and advancement, whereas they are content to live in the mud. And they had given into them!

They should have fought to the death rather than submit to such a fate. Choosing to submit to a such a disgraceful existence instead was the greatest cowardice, I thought. It was a bittersweet notion. My training made it obvious that it was correct thinking, but wishing my family had died felt odd.

I shook my head.

No, it would have been mercy compared to becoming one of those things. I idly stroked my hair. Even though I’m sporting a mane and horn now, I haven’t given up on my humanity. What they did would be tantamount to me kneeling before Celestia and asking her to zap me.

I heard a knock.

“Go away,” I said, sounding a bit too much like an angsty teen for my liking.

“Aron, please let me in,” Celestia said, unperturbed. “I know you don’t want to talk about it—even if I think you should—but you should come out and hear Twilight’s explanation of what happened. It is highly pertinent to your ability to return to your world. All four princesses don’t gather often. Should you later change your mind, it would take a while before we can gather again. I don’t want you to thoughtlessly let your chance slip by.”

“I don’t care,” I grumbled. “There’s no home for me there anymore.”

Celestia’s silence seemed to creep through the cracks of the door.

Is it that surprising to her? Rhod has fallen to savages.

“Aron are you sure you don’t want to talk ab—“

“No!”

“Then please, at least listen to Twilight. There is some good news. You owe it to yourself to hear the whole story first. The last thing I want is for you to regret your decision.”

I got up slowly, dazed.

“Fine,” I mumbled, opening the door to follow the pony giantess.

I stared into the sheen of her regalia. Although better than becoming ursine, I still wasn’t eager to wear a pretty crown and rule over colorful ponies. This fate, too, was about as bad as death.

I paused.

Could it in fact be identical to death? In becoming an infant pony would I in fact lose all semblance of myself? It was a strangely philosophical thought, but strangely, it was somewhat comforting. I wouldn’t personally have to witness the aftermath of this world’s twisting of my being; it would be essentially a new pony, one with only a loose link to myself.

“Aron?”

“Uh—yes?”

“We’re here.”

I berated myself for letting my mind wander so easily. It had been doing that too much for my liking lately. I needed to be more vigilant. I was still a soldier. I would cling to that, even if I would soon be the last real warrior of my people.

I followed Celestia once more into the very purple throne room. Twilight was sitting patiently in the throne marked with her cutie mark, and as I looked around the room, I saw her friends’ cutie marks theming the remaining thrones to them. I knew they weren’t princesses themselves—though they certainly didn’t have a dearth of those around here—but I couldn’t be positive that the alicorn tribe alone was royalty.

“There you are, Aron. I was worried,” Twilight said. “Celestia told me what happened. She said you don’t want to go back anymore. If it’s something I can help with, please tell me.”

Celestia frowned and shook her head deliberately. “He’d rather not share at this point. He just wants to hear your explanation of the relative time between universes.”

Twilight’s ears fell.

“I’m sorry, Princess. I just thought this was a friendship problem I could help with. I’m still not sure what exactly I’m supposed to be doing as Princess of Friendship.”

Friendship problem? What in the blazes does friendship have to do with anything?

“Understandable. I’m sure Aron will be deeply interested in what you have formulated.”

Twilight blushed a little bit. “It’s nothing much, just a little regression analysis anyway, Aron you know that time passed slower in your universe relative to ours, correct?”

“Yes,” I said, bored already and ready to return to my room.

“This has to do with the movement of different universes relative to each other. Depending on their spin, proximity and presence or non-presence of magic, the time passage of two universes when compared can vary widely. Using Number Cruncher’s theorem, I calculated that what you just witnessed was a rare event. Apparently, your universe’s magic has a quirk where your time slows extremely gradually until it dips below a certain threshold. For reasons I don’t quite understand, there is then a discontinuity in the rate, and in an instant time begins passing at an incredible speed. This fast-time decays rapidly to normal passage of time, but during this period, I’m happy to say only six months have passed on your world.”

I crossed my arms, not impressed. “I hope that wasn’t the good news I was promised.”

“Well, no, but that’s part of it. The real good news is that our worlds will mostly be in sync for the foreseeable future. It could be as long as a millennium before we see an event like before. I understand it’s tough to effectively lose six months, but we know there’s little risk of it happening again.”

I gave her the flattest expression I could muster. She rubbed the back of her neck with a hoof and giggled nervously. “Isn’t that great?”

“Thank you, Twilight,” Celestia said before turning to me. “I know what you saw was hard, possibly traumatizing. But despite what I said before, you still have time to change your mind, if not today. Should you decide to stay, we will welcome you with open arms and help you live the happiest life as a pony that you can. If you wish to return, feel no obligation to us, as it was I who brought you here in the first place.”

I was saved from having to answer by the appearance of Twilight’s five friends. Pinkie Pie took the lead, with a frown that threatened to evacuate her face at any moment. She offered me a balloon with a cautious smile, and I shook my head.

“If you ever need a party to cheer you up, you know the pony to call,” she said.

Twilight then dragged Pinkie away, which I was thankful for, as the party pony seemed to be actively fighting the temptation to hug me.

“I get that you’re bummed, but I’m sure you’ll like it here,” Rainbow said consolingly. “Equestria is an awesome place. Everypony here is great.” She smirked. “And besides, you’ll get to hang out with the most awesome pony in all Equestria—me!”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’ll get more’n enough of you in about five minutes, Rainbow Dash. Aron, if yer ever lookin’ for somewhere more quiet, we’d be happy to offer you the ol’ Apple Family hospitality. We always like company at Sweet Apple Acres.”

It didn’t do much to make a dent in my wretched mood, but unlike Pinkie’s, it was an offer I might consider accepting. Applejack was smiling sweetly at me, and meeting her eyes, I awkwardly nodded in response.

As if an unseen spotlight shone down on her, Fluttershy tiphoofed forward. “Umm… if you would ever want a pet. I could introduce you to one—I mean, if you don’t mind.”

“What was that?” I asked not hearing her muttering.

“Nothing,” she said, retreating a few paces. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Pinkie Pie, eager for another turn at the cheering up game, bounced into my personal space again. “You’re always welcome to swing by Sugarcube Corner. I’ll make you something super yummy—” She bounced. “Or more of that yucky cake.” It may have been my imagination, but I thought I saw her mane deflate a little upon saying this.

Striking a pose, the sole unicorn among us stepped forward.

“As the Element of Generosity I can hardly allow myself to be outdone. Aron, dear. If there’s any desire, even the slightest whim, I would gladly tailor a new outfit—no, an entire wardrobe to fit your fancy.

I looked down at myself. Process of elimination had left an orange and yellow vest and green jeans as the least terrible of my choices. Considering, they should have no experience with human clothing, I was grateful that they even fit.

But if she’s offering…

“If you don’t mind…”

Her face took on an enamored look.

“Mind? Oh, Darling, it is what I live for! My raison d’etre”

“Whenever is convenient for—“

“My muse is calling! Inspiration shan’t be denied. Come now, dear, I’ll need to take your measurements again.”

And, once again, I found myself dragged along in a cloud of magic as Rarity galloped up to the Chamber of Generosity.

I’m pretty sure this is at least two too many times for this to happen to me. Note to self: never get between a pony and their special talent.

Far too long later, after being assaulted from every angle by measuring tape, I stumbled out of the Chamber of Generosity. Rarity had prattled on non-stop while taking my measurements, and she had explained that it was her ideal home away from home. Posh accommodations, including a personal spa and sauna contrasted with a highly economical workspace at the other end of the room. Rarity said she wouldn’t have it any other way. I had to admit I respected her a bit more for this—refusing to leave her role completely behind for any amount of time.

“Aron, darling, there’s one more thing,” Rarity said, guilt covering her face. “I have to confess a mild deception. While I fully intend to furnish you with a wardrobe more to your liking, the princess actually asked me to do this for the sake of the measurements. If everything was fine, we weren’t planning on saying a word—so you wouldn’t worry more than you are already. However….”—she took a deep breath—“your height has decreased to four-foot ten, a rather noticeable drop off.”

It was only in that moment that I noticed my clothes were baggier than normal. How could I not have noticed? My height had been a point of pride. My taller build (relatively at least) had been the perfect balance between size and speed. It was something fundamental to me, something that could never be taken away—or so I thought. I should be angry. I should be funneling my anger at these blasted ponies. But shamefully, I only felt a growing depression.

“You were expecting this?”

“We weren’t trying to keep it from you, Dear. Twilight and the professor had started to suspect that gradual changes may be manifesting themselves. We wanted to tell you, but then you got that dreadful news and—“

“Fine,” I grumbled, cutting her off. “Make whatever you want for the outfits. Try to stick to gray and black, though; I’m sick of all the color.”

“Oh. Of course,” Rarity said wistfully as I turned my back and walked away.

I’m sick of these ponies, I thought as I stormed down a random stairwell. They’re pretending to be sympathetic, but I know what they’re thinking. They probably are thinking something superficial like I’m upset because I think I could have changed something in those six months. That’s laughable. I’m only one man. They’ll probably side with those wretched bears too. I’m sure their twisted assimilation of us would fit right into their message of love and friendship. Just look at what their world is trying to do to me!

I pounded on a brick that looked purpler than its neighbors.

Genocide would have been a kindness compared to this humiliation! That’s one thing these horses are too naïve to understand. We have principles.

Suddenly, a gust of wind rushed by me as a petite, purple and green scaled lizard descended the steps two at a time. Naturally, he plowed into me and dropped a photo, which fell face-down. He was surprisingly heavy for his size, but it would have taken more than that to knock me off my feet. His appearance surprised me at first, but a quick recollection of where I was reminded me that even a three-headed alpaca wouldn’t be entirely unexpected.

“Oof,” the lizard grunted, dusting off the photo.”

“What’s the hurry,” I asked coldly.

As if acknowledging me for the first time, he raised his head and said, “Sorry about that. Wasn’t watching where I was going, but didn’t you hear? Rising Sun’s here! She just rescued Snips and Snails after they fell into the Apple family well.”

He paused for a moment.

“Can’t say I’ve seen you around before.”

However, he then slapped himself lightly on the cheeks to regain his composure, and refocused on his objective.

“I’ve got to get her autograph!”

And with that he resumed his mad dash down the stairs.

Considering how names were allocated on this world, there was a high likelihood he was ‘Spike’. Were I in a mood to care, I might have called out after him that Twilight had already procured an autograph for him. My apathy had the additional benefit of saving me the trouble of introducing myself. It was getting tough to gauge who was supposed to be privy to my identity. If Twilight’s friends were accessories to royalty that would be sensible. On the other hand, Wallflower knowing didn’t fit at all.

Sullen, I took the steps slowly until I got to the ground floor. It had become apparent to me that I had no further obligations for the moment. I normally wouldn’t be one to volunteer for more nonsense, but being dragged by Rarity had disoriented me. I still trusted my general sense of direction, but not enough to risk cutting through rooms that might have strong sources of magic or—even worse—another party.

I inevitably came to the throne room, and all of the thrones were occupied, the small reptile occupying the unmarked one. Luna, Cadance, and Celestia were standing, and that preposterous masked bird was flapping her wings slowly to maintain height.
“—we the four princesses of Equestria acknowledge your virtue and present you with this medal,” Cadance said, placing a comically oversized medal around the bird’s neck.

Every alicorn I’ve seen has been a princess. Looks like all princesses are alicorns. For my sake, let’s hope all alicorns aren’t princesses.

The masked crime fighter gave her distinct salute and flew out a high open window.

“Hello, Aron,” Cadance said tentatively, “how are you doing?”

“Fine.”

“I don’t mean to rush you, but my husband and I need to return to the Crystal Empire soon. Are you sure you don’t want the four of us to send you back before then?”

“I’m sure.”

Her expression saddened and her gaze dropped a bit.

“If you change your mind, I’ll make time. If you want to see your loved ones again, it’ll be worth it.”

My heart wavered for a moment. I did miss them: my mom’s cooking, sparring with my brothers, talking with my sister. But, I made a point to let my feelings of betrayal over what my brother and sister had submitted to overrule this. The rest of my family was surely dead after fighting to the end. My resolve hardened.

“Don’t trouble yourself on my account,” I said.

I was one man, one soldier. I should work for those in authority, not the other way around.

“I don’t get it,” Rainbow Dash blurted out. “If he doesn’t want to go back, why talk him out of it? A new princess would be awesome.”

“It ain’t that simple, Rainbow Dash,” Applejack said.

“Actually, I’m wondering the same thing,” I said. “I’d expect you to want me to stay, since alicorns are so rare. Yet, you seem to want me to leave. Why is that?”

At this question, Celestia’s whole posture tightened and she looked away. Even though Celestia should have looked comparatively massive considering my recent height loss, for a moment she seemed much smaller. I felt for the first time, I might be able to cut through to what was really going on. Unfortunately, this world had to distract me with another curveball to common sense.

Entering through the same window Rising Sun had left, an suspiciously similar orange bird descended and landed on Celestia’s withers. She nuzzled the alicorn, who brightened immediately.

“Oh there you are, Philomena,” Celestia said. “Have you met Aron yet? Aron, this is my pet phoenix, Philomena. Phoenixes are incredibly clever creatures, even those poor at understanding animals are amazed at their comprehension.”

I pointed a finger accusingly at the phoenix.

“I know you! You’re—“

The phoenix, put a wing to her beak in a quieting gesture. The surprisingly humanity of this gesture unnerved me.

“What are you talking about, Aron?” Twilight asked.

“Masked orange bird leaves; maskless orange bird enters. The connection should be obvious. Let me guess: this is some inside joke where we all pretend not to see through the not-so-secret identity?”

“We follow not thy logic,” Luna said.

“I’m not one to ask,” Cadance said. “Rising Sun isn’t active in the Crystal Empire.”

“That’s true,” Twilight said, pondering deeply. “In fact, yesterday was the first time she’s appeared in Ponyville.”

My countenance took on a mad grin. I could feel it splitting my face.

“And you arrived yesterday, right? Princess Celestia?”

“That is correct…”

“And you brought Philomena with you?”

“Yes…”

“And have you seen Philomena and Rising Sun at the same time?”

“No, I haven’t. What are you getting at?”

I scanned the room and was met with nearly a dozen confused expressions. Pinkie Pie was the notable exception, trying her hardest not to crack up. From what I knew of her, this was perfectly in-character. She was likely laughing at the silliness of one of her own thoughts.

“Rising Sun’s secret identity!” I screamed.

“Yes, what about it, Darling?” Rarity asked.

“Ponies have many different theories about it,” Spike said with enthusiasm. Some think it’s Donut Joe’s daughter, Vanilla Glaze, because Rising Sun often visits his shop suspiciously often. Others think it’s Fleur de Lis—a high class lady beguiling a rough-and-tumble fighter for justice. I personally think it’s Moondancer, though. Ponies have noticed she rarely ventures outside her house. Is she merely studying behind closed doors, or sneaking out to don the beak of justice?"

This was so off-base that all I could do was stand there stupidly with my jaw hanging down. Meanwhile, Philomena was still frantically shushing me. I felt no obligation to keep her blatantly obvious secret; however, I didn’t think my sanity could survive more blatant myopia, so I refrained from spelling it out.

“Can we get a move on?” Rainbow Dash interjected. “I’ve got clouds to kick. Can we do what we came here for?”

All eyes were on me, and I felt out of place.

“Don’t mind me,” I said, giving a half-bow. “I was only cutting through here to get to my room. Sorry to interrupt.”

I turned to leave.

Then, the centerpiece of the throne room surged to life. Stray magic flew everywhere as a colorful, detailed map manifested itself between the seven thrones. I put my crystal in front of me, but it was meaningless. Magic corpuscles ricocheted off the walls, shattering stained glass windows and breaking into smaller puffs of magic. Though my footwork was nearly perfect, I failed to account for my change in height. Jumping to avoid a larger blob, I failed to clear it due to my shorter legs.

I felt a burning sensation near my rear. A tingling followed, and then a sudden itchiness. My bones in the struck area shifted like clay, taking the form of a literal tailbone. It effortlessly pushed a few inches out of my body, not even rupturing the skin. Though a painless process, I was in agony. I reached into my jeans and gave my new tail a hard tug.

It was foal-sized, but very real. I flexed a muscle that I shouldn’t have, and it twitched in my grip.

Furious. I stormed to my room, carrying with me a single-minded determination: I would spend the rest of the day pony-free.

Author's Note

Kind of a transition chapter. I didn't want minor events to drag on too long, but I'm kind of worried that it's too short. Unfortunately, my intended follow-up would clash too much in terms of tone. Considering most of the time angst isn't fun to write or read, I hope I made the right decision.

Chapter 11

The walls of the tunnel were distressingly narrow—so narrow that I feared at any moment they may turn into pistons and crush me into a soup. On the other hand....

Diane glanced back and smiled warmly at me. Part of me was in disbelief—I was actually staring into the face I so desperately wanted to see again. She was just as I remembered her, with a boyish complexion, fair skin and broad cheekbones. Most striking by far, however, was her fire-red hair. In the standardized world we lived and breathed in, it lent her an almost mythical aspect.

With a lurch of my stomach, I remembered the atrocious antlers atop her head. As if materializing on my recollection, they now became impossible to ignore, fouling our reunion.

“We’re so glad you decided to join us, Aron.”

“I’m not too thrilled about it…”

“None of us were, Aron. Don’t worry: it’s completely painless.”

I shrugged. “Not that that it matters to me either way.”

She shook her head knowingly. “You don’t have to pretend to be an unfeeling stone. It’s okay to be scared; it’s okay to want to flee from suffering.”

“If I bought into that, I wouldn’t have chosen to sacrifice for Rhod on the frontlines.”

She looked forward, paused, and seemed to recall something important that I couldn’t deduce.

“Yes, you did have a choice, but you made that choice because of what you believe in, not because you’re so cold that you don’t care if you get hurt,” she said with conviction.

“Have the bears poisoned your mind? A true soldier—”

“Yes, yes, I know what they’ve told us since we were young. I’m not sure it’s true. I mean, I’ve never been good at keeping my emotions in check, but would you say I’m a bad soldier?”

That was certainly the wrong conclusion. Diane was an unparalleled magical talent, the sort that the examiners were always looking for.

“We’re here,” she suddenly whispered, lifting a cloth flap that served as a door. I went in first and glimpsed a circular chamber adorned only with paint-like markings on the floor, which formed an intricate pattern.

I turned back, calling, “Diane,” but there was no response. I flicked the cloth door again, and felt only a light breeze filling out the corridor.

“She can’t be present,” a deep voice said.

I turned and found myself face-to-face with a female Ayabna shaman. Standing as tall as me, she was adorned with circular markings similar to those on the floor. Most striking were the three red stripes, burned into her left cheek such that no fur could grow there. She wore more clothing than most bears, in the form of an elaborate headdress and robe. Both were decorated with a variety of jewelry, plants, and objects I couldn’t even name.

She tapped her ritual staff lightly, commanding my attention. Knowing it was time, I slowly knelt down and closed my eyes. Following a tense pause, I felt a tap on my forehead.

A hazy feeling took root beneath my scalp, and a tiny horn sprouted. My hair lengthened into a thick down and spread across every inch of my skin like an itchy invasion of a million fuzzy caterpillars. With a jerk my fingers snapped together, as if experiencing a sudden, powerful magnetic attraction. They curled like the slack end of a stringy piece of gum and fused to my palm. With a panicked gasp, I felt most of my feet melting away into a phantom puddle, as they and my hands fell into a deep sleep. I desperately spasmed to get any sort of motion out of my extremities, but as if beholding the eye of Medusa, they were fully petrified.

I jerked open my eyes, and cringed at the sight of pony forelegs.

“Shh. It’s going to be okay,” a somehow familiar voice said as I felt a hoof rubbing my back.

I turned.

A brown stallion was smiling down at me, his eyes glowing with compassion.

“You may not want to be a pony right now, but it will get better I promise. Right now, you can only see the pain, but the future holds an unseen treasure trove of experience. It will be hard at times, but you will find ponies that will help you. They will always be there if you look hard enough.”

He hugged me.

“Good luck.”

My nose slid down my face, merging with my jaw, as my nostrils sunk beneath the surface. The new compound swelled, and with a pulse, my jaw and what was left of my nose stretched forward into a muzzle, my mouth engorging with it. As a finishing touch, an invisible file then danced between my incisors, gently smoothing them down into a herbivore’s box shape.

I looked up at the stallion once more. Somehow his presence made all my anxiety turn to dust and float away. Wordlessly he continued to comfort me, stroking my new azure mane with his forelegs.

Then, I started to shrink. The sensation was akin to a large portion of my body mass being sucked into a powerful drain. This should have been horrifying, but all I could think of was how liberating it was to be free of all that extra weight. With finality, my front hooves hit the ground for the first time, and with a twist my spine shifted to accommodate this new stance. The transformation complete, I looked up at the big stallion for some sort of closure.

However, a crack then appeared in space itself and a familiar blue alicorn came prancing in. He gave me one last squeeze, and he stepped back, became a golden orb of light and sped away.

“Are you all right, Aron?” Luna asked, taking an aggressive glance at the fleeing light.

“Surprisingly, yes.”

The obvious absurdity of everything suddenly hit me full-force in the face.

“Is this a dream?”

“Indeed,” she said. “Now, forgive our brevity, but we must investigate.”

And she too transformed into an orb of light and sped away, leaving me in a dead-end of a dream.

I drifted back to wakefulness in a plush, oversized bed. Habitually, I tried to rub the sleep out of my eyes, but this proved nearly impossible with a set of hooves. Besides, my eyes had ballooned to nearly three times their size three days ago. That change had been one of the most disturbing: my eyes had grown faster than my sockets could contain them and now looked like they belonged to a frog. The last week had been awful with changes like that.

None of them were painful—a fact that somehow irked me—but walking had quickly become impossible when my left leg restructured itself before the right. I had succeeded in avoiding stray magic following the emergence of what became known as the Cutie Map; however, the professor reported that my tail growth was likely a watershed for further changes. As such, the natural progression of the transformation had advanced considerably in a mere week.

Although I was too proud to complain out loud, I started to loathe getting up each day. The face staring back at me in the mirror became more and more equine each day. Now, I was a two-foot tall pony humanoid child. I had known what I was getting into, but I still wondered if regaining my mobility was worth Celestia accelerating the transformation. In the professor’s estimate, it had cost me two days of remaining mostly human, but those days would have been spent hobbling around—more humiliation than I could bear.

While I slept, my spine had apparently arched more in its progression to a quadrupedal stance. Instinctively, I wanted to crawl out of bed, but I wouldn’t let this defeat me. Channeling all the power my much smaller form could muster I rolled out of bed, intent on righting myself mid-air. However…

“Owww,” I squeaked in a childish voice.

My legs had not cooperated and I had landed awkwardly on my back, pinning my tail. Flailing, I froze when I realized that my four legs were not only covered in forest-green fur but completely parallel to one another.

It had happened. What I had felt in that dream had been more than a dream.

Well, I’m now a colt… I thought. At least it’s better than the opposite, but...

The optimism ended there. Although I had known this was coming, I was at a complete loss now that it had actually happened. I didn’t know what I was feeling—anger, sadness, desperation. I just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. I didn’t want to admit it, but I only could restrain myself from the former, as tears stained the fur around my muzzle.

What was I supposed to do? I didn’t want to be seen like this. It was something I was going to have to face eventually, but right now it was more than I could handle, so I just lay there for more than an hour.

A rapping came from the door.

“Aron?” asked a familiar maid. “Can I come in?”

I didn’t respond, knowing she wouldn’t come in with permission. She asked for me at least three more times but I had stopped listening by then. Although my last days as mostly human weren’t great by any means, I desperately wanted them back.

I grasped my stomach as my whole world spun with the familiar sensation of cross-dimensional travel. Finally, the spinning came to a stop and I fell to all fours on the arcanium floor. Celestia panted with exertion and lowered her head slightly.

“Are you sure you are all right to be doing this?” I asked.

“No, I’m fine,” Celestia replied. “I owe this to you after all.”

I supposed she had missed the irritation in my voice. This ridiculous tour of new worlds was her idea that I had only agreed to to appease her excessive worrying.

“So, Aron, can you see yourself living a full life in any one of those other worlds?”

I shook my head vigorously.

“Even the ones ravaged by conflict?”

I cocked my head in disbelief. “Just because I’m a soldier doesn’t mean I seek out conflict,” I explained. “A soldier without a cause is no more than a thug or mercenary.”

“Well, the second world we visited has some amount of upside. After all, there are other humans there.”

“That world might be okay if I didn’t mind a life-expectancy of thirty-five,” I snarked. “Seriously, we encountered two murder mysteries in a six hour period. Apparently cases follow detectives around, and it seemed like everyone’s grandma was a detective there.”

“Well, how about the world beyond the mirror portal?” Celestia tried.

“And be a student in a singing high school? That’s no better than staying here.”

Celestia was clearly running out of suggestions.

“What about the one where everypony is the opposite gender?”

That one had been the biggest disappointment of all. Apparently, the magical signatures of the residents was what was reversed as opposed to how the world reads them.

“What’s the point if I still have to be a filly there. Besides, Prince Solaris creeped me out.”

Celestia sighed. “The last world—okay, I understand why you wouldn’t want that last one…”

“Yes, what was the big deal with card games in that world?! Everything there was card game this, duel that! It came as no surprise whatsoever when we happened to learn their entire political system is card-based too.”

Hesitant, Celestia gazed on me intently. “Well, those worlds are the closest to us that still share a common language. I still do not understand why you aren’t willing to consider going back to your home world. I know losing a war must leave you incredibly bitter, but you could make a life there. I’ve observed the so-called Ayabna, and they have a surprisingly peaceful and sophisticated society.”

I scowled. “Never! That is completely intolerable to me. I can’t stand becoming one of those halfbreed things! That’s a path for those traitors who turned their back on humanity, not for brave children of Rhod. If I go back, it will be to die as a human—and as a hero.”

“And that is completely intolerable to me,” Celestia said. “I…”

“I understand,” I said. “I won’t spit on your kindness of saving me by asking you to send me back with this in mind. The next best option I have is to stay here and serve you however I can.”

Celestia frowned, clearly bothered by me taking my own death so lightly.

“By staying here any longer, you effectively decide to become a pony. Aron, this is a big decision. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about why you’re so against joining your surviving family members? I’d understand if you didn’t want to be transformed, but you’ll be changed far more if you stay here.”

“No, I don’t need a heart-to-heart talk,” I said. “It’s rather simple. We stand for progress and believe in the potential of humanity. Meanwhile, they are content to live in the dirt.”

The princess motioned to stop me, but I caught it before she could point it out.

“That’s what’s always been said about them, but I don’t entirely believe it to be honest. If they want to be “one with nature” that would be fine”.— Celestia noticeably brightened upon hearing this—“but they had to try and push it on us—a worldview entirely inconsistent with our own.”

Celestia paused in thought before responding, “But, Aron, we ponies are probably more in touch with nature than your people. What makes us different?”

“Like I said, you aren’t forcing that perspective on me. Your world may be trying to make me conform to its whim, but you and every other pony I met have been nothing but helpful and respectful towards me. Besides, you don’t shun innovation. Your railroads are a testament to that.”

“But are these principles worth more than your family?” Celestia asked solemnly.

“Yes,” I said with conviction. “People fade and die, but principles bridge generations and shape the future. As long as I believe in the principles that comprise the spirit of humanity, I’ll have not lost myself. By willfully renouncing their humanity, my brother and sister turned their back on me.”

Celestia’s stoic mask struggled to hold. For a second, I saw a mistiness in her eye. “I understand,” she said resignedly. “If that’s what makes you human.”

In reality my discussion with Princess Celestia was completely moot. Twilight Sparkle had to leave on a quest, which had taken her more than a week to complete. It was my understanding that she had been kidnapped by some sort of cult leader. Afterwards, she had to focus all of her attention on capturing the one responsible. As such, she couldn’t have been there to help send me back even if I had consented.

I glanced at the clock. Only ten minutes had passed! I rubbed my front hooves together anxiously. I was just so bored! It wasn’t a familiar feeling, since discipline had beaten it out of me—or so I thought. Every second seemed to drag on for an eternity. It made me start giving weight to the idea of bearing the brunt of embarrassment and the fawning of mares just to get it out of the way.

However, my resolve was stronger than that. I bravely stared at the sky-blue wallpaper for what felt like four more hours. My truant body demanded I get up and move, but I sat with my haunches glued to the floor. Once my feat of endurance justified it, I once more glanced at the clock to discover that this time only half an hour had passed. I pouted. Somehow, without glancing at the mirror, I just knew my face was pouting. I tried to return my expression to neutrality, but this additional effort felt unnatural, so I stopped policing my countenance and went back to being bored.

Finally to my relief, I heard a gentle knocking on the door.

“Aron may I come in?” Celestia asked.

Even though it was exactly what I was waiting for, I was still reluctant to let her see me like this. I let my reticence default to a yes.

With one last knock, she pushed the door open, and her eyes went wide when she saw me.

“So… it happened…” she said somberly. “Are you all right?”

I weakly nodded.

“I’m so sorry,” she said stepping gently towards me. I could practically feel the vibration of her heavy hooves with each step she took. If she was big before, gargantuan would be the only word to describe her now. I doubt she had gotten any bigger, which meant I was only about one foot tall now.

“Why are you apologizing?” I asked in a voice that had clearly gone through reverse puberty.

“I just—I know it’s hard for you, Aron. I brought you here, and I want you to be happy. I know it’s hard for you, but we’ll make it work.” Somewhat hesitant, she wrapped her forelegs around me in a hug. It felt incredibly warm, and comforting, so I decided to distract myself by sateing a point of curiosity.

“Celestia.”

“Hmm?”

“Why do the mares here randomly hug colts. I’ve had quite a few hugs here.”

“I’ve inferred your culture to not be big on physical intimacy, so I imagine it will be a difficult point for you to get used to. You see, it’s been shown that ponies need physical intimacy to maintain a healthy psysche. For colts and fillies, five hugs a day is the recommendation of the experts.”

I raised an eyebrow at that—or at least I tried to, because I was wholly unaware if I still had such a thing anymore.

“I’m serious Aron,” Celestia said apologetically. “You’re a colt now, and there’s no going back. It’s my fault you’re in this situation, so I owe it to you to give you the best foalhood I can. I’m afraid this will entail hugs and other pony things you won’t like, but it’s for the best.”

Thinking quick, I came up with a weighty counterargument:

“Why bother? I’m not oblivious to the fact that my brain will eventually become that of an infant filly. I’ll likely lose my speech and all my memories. I’ll be a blank slate. My life, my existence—I’m basically living on borrowed time. I don’t see why you’re even bothering with me considering it will all be for naught.”

She took on an expression of intense sympathy and hugged me a second time even tighter.

“So you’ve recognized that very serious problem. I’d hoped to shield you because you had so many other concerns. However, you are correct: it’s unlikely you will remember anything if we sit back and let the transformation run its course. However, I have been looking into potential solutions to this issue since you arrived. And now that you have decided to stay, the full efforts of we four princesses and the professor will be dedicated to preserving everything that is you—this I swear.”

She then smiled reassuringly at me. “So are you ready to face the world?”

“No,” I squeaked.

“Remember what I said about raising you right?”

“Yes…”

“Well, as your guardian, I reserve the right to overrule your wishes for the sake of your best interest.”

Her slightly mischievous smile unnerved me, but I had little time to ponder this, as she picked me up by the neck using her mouth.

“Time to get some fresh air,” she mumbled through a mouthful of my fur.

Never thought I would miss being carried around by magic.

She carried me until we were out of the castle, at which point she put me down so I could walk alongside her. The good news was that the force that had transformed me was courteous enough to give me the knowledge to walk and even run with quadruped locomotion. The bad news was that Celestia’s stride was absolutely massive, and I had to run at a full gallop to keep up with her. Strangely, I didn’t mind too much, and I had energy to spare. However, my mind felt like it was standing in for the journey’s strain on my body. With each step I took, it felt like I was fighting an internal battle, desperately swimming upstream against a current of insanity.

Thankfully, we soon arrived in the same park Trusty and I had met that scatter-brained filly in. It was a weekday, so we virtually had the park to ourselves. The few others present were mothers with their juvenile offspring. At some point before I had stopped struggling, Celestia had magically altered her appearance to that of a massive pink and white earth pony with a sunflower Cutie Mark.

“How do you like my disguise?” She asked as an icebreaker. “I call this alias Sunflower Shine.”

“It’s about as convincing as Rising Sun’s disguise.”

“Thank you,” Celestia said, completely oblivious.

I just rolled my eyes.

“What about you? You’re going to need a new alias yourself, since your coat color isn’t the same as with the ring.”

“I don’t know. Any name is fine really; Trusty chose the last one, and I kind of stuck with it.”

Celestia stopped and craned her head around to look at me. My momentum carried me into her hind legs and I came to a sudden, unwelcome stop.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “Anyway, I think you should pick a name yourself.”

“Why can’t I go with Aron?”

“You can, but it will sound a bit exotic to pony ears.”

I intended to shrug my shoulders, but I realized to my chagrin that this was now anatomically impossible.

“What else am I supposed to base it on. Pony names sound ridiculous to me, so how do I know what I pick won’t sound strange to ponies.”

“A good guideline if you’re at a loss is to take inspiration from your colors.”

“How about ‘the green one’?” I asked deadpan.

Celestia apparently refused to dignify my suggestion with a response and instead explained, “Earth ponies traditionally draw names from nature, pegasi from the sky and weather phenomenon, and unicorns from heavenly bodies and magical phenomenon.”

None to eager to accept a pony name, I blew it off, saying, “I can’t come up with anything.”

“Take your time,” Celestia said, with a look that said she saw through to what I was really saying.

I leaned against a towering tree and sighed. I still couldn’t quite cut through the disbelief that I was now a tiny, young horse-thing.

“So what now?”

“Hmm?”

“You took the trouble of dragging me out here, so now what?”

Celestia’s countenance betrayed the slightest bit of sheepishness before returning to her royal mask. “Well, I had intended to have you interact with other foals, but…”

I gave the empty park a quick glance of confirmation before smiling in relief at her oversight.

“It turns out Father’s Day isn’t until next week. It’s rather embarrassing, but I have a hard time keeping track of such things—a side-effect of immortality I feel.”

“I’m not about to play with other foals anyway. Just because I’m stuck in this situation for a bit doesn’t mean I’m about to play the part. Unless this world brainwashes me into it…” I shivered from the mere thought.

Celestia rubbed my back with a hoof and a light calm fell over me. “Don’t worry. I’ve talked it over with the professor, and such a thing is unlikely. True, your body is now different, and some instincts might take over, but your fundamental psyche will remain the same. I highly doubt you’ll be a typical foal.”

I slumped.

“I don’t want to be any type of foal.”

In response, she resumed rubbing my back.

After a minute of silence, she changed the topic: “I didn’t mean for you to play with the other foals, just interact with them. I recognize you will be reluctant to accept this, but socialization is very important for ponies, and we need to get you accustomed to it.”

“I’ve already interacted with half a dozen fillies,” I explained. “All I took away is that they are hyper and have the attention spans of goldfish. In fact, most of the ponies I met have been eccentric in some way.”

Celestia serenely smiled. “Please don’t let Pinkie Pie color your judgment of all of us.”

“Trust me: she’s in a category all to her own.”

She paused for a moment in thought. “You are correct in some ways. I assume your own calm demeanor is greatly influenced by your culture, which has a more normative approach, to say the least. For ponies, we value expression and creativity most of all.”

I sighed, examining my green fur and hooves. “That’s going to take some getting used to. Putting aside that I don’t really want to, how would I even start to learn how to be a pony.”

A whimsical beat started to whisper through the park. The other ponies in the park clearly responded, their ears perking up expectantly. Just before I could convince myself I was imagining it, the airy tune picked up in volume.

“While it is a shame to waste a perfectly good song sequence, for your sake, I believe I’ll pass this time.”

As if it had heard her, the music petered out. Disappointed, the mothers in the park returned their full doting attention to their foals.

“But you will have to get used to it eventually, and school will help with that.”

“SCHOOL!?” I shrieked in disbelief.

Celestia frowned apologetically. “If I needed an excuse, Equestrian law is rather general in its mandate that all foals that are able to go to school. As you will become aware in civics class, we princesses are not above the law, nor do we make the law for that matter.”

She paused for my answer, but I had none.

“But even if this were not the case, I would insist you go. Aron, I recognize that you are no child on the inside, but with your limited exposure to our world, culturally your knowledge is, in some ways, that of a child. Surely being effectively illiterate bothers you?”

“Yes, but…”

To my chagrin I couldn’t come up with an argument better than “I don’t want to go to school,” but that would completely undermine my insistence of not being a child.

“Aron, I know it’s hard; I really do, but my many years have taught me that it is almost always better to dive into something hard rather than perseverate on it. Besides, I would be remiss to allow you to waste away the days until your transformation comes creeping through the door. I believe your time in between is something special. And pragmatically speaking, you may as well enjoy being a colt now, because once—”

“There’s no going back is there?”

“Once you become a filly, no, I’m afraid not. Gender spells are nearly impossible for most unicorns and rarely last more than a few hours when they are done right.”

A seed of discontent dropped into my mind, and I felt it ripple softly through me. Though not overpowering, it still succeeded in spoiling my mood.

I knew all this coming in. I had even chosen it, poor as my options were. So why does it still bother me?

“It’s now a couple hours past mid-morning, so I was thinking we could have some lunch?”

“That’s fine,” I mumbled.

“Great!”

Celestia clapped her front hooves together and a badly-disguised Trusty Stead sidled out from behind a large tree. He wore conspicuous sunglasses and a black and white tuxedo. I wanted to facepalm, but I remembered that that would hurt now. In his mouth he carried a picnic basket complete with a red and white checkered blanket. He set this at Sunflower Shine’s feet, saluted and galloped away, attracting the attention of everypony around us.

There was jam, bread, orange juice, some waffles and all kinds of fruit. I licked my lips, excited for the first time that day, but Celestia then ruined it by pulling out a large hay sandwich for each of us. I swallowed nervously, and she hesitantly took out two generously frosted cupcakes.

I started on what I knew I would like, and I was not disappointed. My sense of taste had shifted subtly, but my meal was no less delicious. Celestia had packed generous helpings of everything , and it was to my dismay that I couldn’t possibly eat my fill of everything with my child-sized stomach. I had even tried a few bites of the hay sandwich. It had a crunchy texture and a rich, earthy taste. It was as if I could taste all of the nutrition individually, which wasn’t entirely a bad thing.

“Hey, Princess…”

“Yes, Aron.”

“Is there a way I can go to live somewhere else in Equestria. Your capital is beautiful—don’t get me wrong—but I think I could do well with some quieter surroundings with fewer ponies.”

Celestia looked the slightest bit disappointed, but corrected it so quickly that it may have been my imagination.

“How about Ponyville? I’m sure Twilight would be happy to have you.” I was already shaking my head no, but she continued. “Ponyville’s school has a great teacher, and I’m sure three fillies would be more than happy to help you find a cutie mark.”

“No,” I voiced, “That place seems like a nexus of crazy, and I don’t think I can endure another party.”

Celestia looked down. “I’m afraid those are your only options. I feel bad because I haven’t told you this, but there’s so much to tell you that is difficult to—and I don’t want you to panic. The fact is that alicorn foals are quite fragile. We learned this a hard way when Princess Cadance was born. I—I had to all-but foalnap her from her parents after it became clear that only another alicorn could nurse her or incubate her harmonic core. For that reason, should you suddenly fully transform, we want an alicorn nearby just in case.”

I looked at her flatly. “That’s it? Celestia, I can handle it. All the things that you think will worry me have been facts I have to face. They’re not pleasant facts, but I have to know. Stop worrying so much about my feelings.”

Celestia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Forgive me, Aron. When you’ve lived as long as I have, it takes concentrated force of will to not see others as children. After all, there are only a handful of dragons out there older than I.” She opened her eyes again. “It’s going to be even more difficult for me now that you look like that, but I will try to treat you as an adult.”

“That’s all I ask,” I said. I then smiled mischievously.

“But you still have to go to school.”

“Drat…”

She watched me eat for a little while, seeming self-conscious about indulging herself too much in the delicious food that had been prepared. Sooner than I would have liked, however, I found myself quite full. I sensed the urge to lie down and take a nap, but I suppressed this on the off-chance it was some pony instinct.

“Did you enjoy it?” Celestia asked.

“Yes, the food here is good, as always. It’s the best point of your world.”

And the only one, I thought to myself.

“Good,” she said before pausing awkwardly and taking a bite of cupcake, exaggerating her enjoyment of every bite.

“I know you’re not big on sugar, but are you sure you don’t want to try your cupcake? The mare who makes the castle’s desserts, Cherry Topping, has won multiple awards for her sweets.”

“No thank you.”

Celestia then got that look of resigned apprehension on her face that never proceeded good news.

“I hope you know that I hate doing this, but I have to insist once more. You’re a growing foal now, Aron.”

“Growing in reverse,” I corrected.

“It still counts. At any rate, foals need their sugar for their health. It helps keep up their energy and provides them with essential nutrients. This applies to all ponies actually, but most never have to think about consuming enough sugar.”

More of their backwards logic…

“So I have to eat it?”

“Would it help if I made train noises?”

In response I took a big, spiteful bite out of the gaudy confection. I chewed it quickly and nearly gagged. It was sickeningly saccharine, and it took great efforts to make myself swallow. I had had sugar before, but what they were putting in these things was surely a lethal dosage.

Celestia had an apologetic look in her eyes, but I wasn’t interested in hearing how sorry she was. The fact was that she had already started treating me like a foal, forcing me out here and making me eat hay and cupcakes. Well, I was going to take a stand. I wasn’t about to let her force me to go to school.

“Okay, everypony, we have a new exchange student from Neighbraska,” the middle-age, spectacled yellow and pink unicorn mare said. “Would you like to introduce yourself, my little pony?”

Author's Note

Here's a chapter that's been a long time in the making. I hope I was able to deliver on your expectations.

Chapter 12

Cursing as she hit her antlers on an obscured tree trunk, Diane forcefully swept aside a dense clump of foliage that threatened to poke her in the eye. She had been amazed when the Ayabna had first brought her to one of the planet’s surviving few forests, but even that had quickly become mundane for her as she now entered her seventh week with them. As a recent convert, she had expected to start with grunt work, but surprisingly she had been put in charge of a group containing both human and ursine workers.

She didn’t know if it was a sign of solidarity, or if they had seen something in her, but in any case, she was assigned to the leader caste. It sounded more impressive than it actually was, as leaders were roughly ten percent of the population; she would consider herself more of a manager, truthfully. Besides, they had made it clear from the start to the initiates that all castes were equal.

Locating a suitable tree as she had been taught, she signaled for her team to surround it. A human took the first bite out of the geriatric old oak with his new, enlarged teeth. A throng of others joined in, grinding the thick trunk down in a precise sequence. Her charge was safety, and she watched carefully, making sure her subordinates were notching it correctly. It was an essential skill she had picked up quickly.

Whereas Diane had received antlers as a designated leader, the humans assigned to manual labor were now equipped with tails, beaver teeth and claws designed for digging. The Ayabna workers possessed these features as well, but they lacked the muscular builds and powerful claws of the explorer caste Diane was most familiar with. Truthfully, they looked more like rats than bears.

She wondered briefly where Aron and the others would have been placed were they here with her.

She shuddered.

No, it’s pointless to think like that. Aron is gone... And the others—they made their choice. They chose to fight and die to the point of folly.

She swallowed, breaking out in a cold sweat. Her remorse for those needless casualties on both sides was pushing against her conditioning. Even now, it was hard to condemn her father and brothers, for they faithfully followed protocol to the end. It still amazed her that she was able to summon the courage to defect. She wouldn’t have been able to do it without Alex.

Diane had zoned out for a bit. It was behavior that would have been cracked down on at home, but life now moved at a slower pace since they had joined their former enemy. It was a peaceful existence amid an uphill battle to break free from their indoctrination. Seeing how Rhod’s other inhabitants lived had really put things in perspective. She had been somewhat of a free thinker before, but even she was shocked at how she had been immersed in dogma every waking second of her life without even realizing it most of the time.

Once the tree had been felled, her subordinates started chopping at it with small axes. Surprisingly, this was where her real job began. If left to her own devices, she would have probably made every cut with a 2x4 in mind. However, fitting anything to a template wasn’t the Ayabna way of doing things. Instead, she had to inspect each unique tree in the diverse forest for its ideal potential use and have it cut into something the architects could use. Care was taken so that as little as possible was wasted, making it more of an art form than anything else. Since the tunnels could be dug to conform to eccentric building designs, strange shapes and curves were welcome in the wood their group brought back.

When finished, they loaded the day’s lumber into a cart and returned underground. They needed no torches as their eyes were adapted perfectly for the dark tunnels. Even deep underground, her vision was no worse than it was on the surface. Steering the group through the contours of the underground maze, she idly contemplated the extent of the mysterious magic of this society.

There was so much about the Ayabna they had been completely ignorant about—willfully ignorant perhaps. Diane could only speculate on what they had looked like prior to discovering magic, but she hadn’t dared ask. All she had learned was that there had been a Great Awakening fairly recently in their history. The shamans made frequent reference to The Great One who had brought magic to them. They often sung his praises with an enthusiasm that, while not quite on the level of worship, showed great respect. Diane couldn’t decide if he were a legend, a historic leader, or a bonafide god.

Before long, they reached the storage chamber and deposited their day’s work. Immediately her group split in two. The former Rhods congregated together, away from the ursine cliques. This saddened her somewhat, but true integration of two cultures would not be an easy matter to settle. She had made good-natured efforts to bring the sides together, but tonight the effort felt too taxing.

Returning home, she navigated a long path with few forks and found her way back to the rapidly expanding Terrestrial Quarter. Many buildings were still under construction and temporary support beams were heroically holding up the ceiling. Few buildings were yet complete, and those that had been were allocated via lottery. Having failed to pull a winning number, Diane currently resided in what was essentially a hole in the wall. Finding her humble abode, she rounded the front entrance corner of the small tunnel leading into the single room.

It was generously sized, as there was little premium on space below ground. What furniture she had she had made herself with the help of some experienced ursine carpenters. It certainly wasn’t impressive, but the plain table and bench made it feel somewhat lived in. However, this evening something was out of place.

“Prism Caller, I wasn’t expecting you,” Diane said, smiling at her friend.

Ominously, the normally friendly bear-woman didn’t return the smile. Instead she got up from her seat on the sleeping bag, propping herself up with her ornamented staff. Her expression was stern, signaling she was not here for a friendly visit, but to execute her mandate as shaman.

Her message was terse, but the words were heavy: “The Great One summons you.”

Diane froze in disbelief.

Prism didn’t wait for her to fully comprehend and walked briskly towards the door.

“Come now. Follow me.”

After lunch, Celestia took me to Canterlot University, where Giants’ Withers was serving as a guest lecturer. I ran the usual battery of tests, which I had become all too used to. She scanned me in depth with a low-intensity spell. Magic passing through me was an odd sensation—it made my fur stand on end and my hooves tingle. Mercifully, she was quick about it.

“I see,” the professor began, “you appear to be a perfectly normal unicorn colt “

“That’s it?” I complained, hopping down from the swivel examination chair.

“What about his horn?” Celestia inquired. “Will it continue to develop?”

“I’m afraid not,” the mare answered. “I theorize that because an alicorn’s horn is one of the their three tribal aspects, it remains sized to Aron’s final form. In other words: it’s effectively the horn of an alicorn filly, while his mana reservoir is that of a normal unicorn.”

Celestia was zoned in on the academic, while I was struggling to find which part to pay attention to. Bored, I couldn’t resist spinning the chair a couple of times before regaining my focus. Despite my fur, it was strangely cold in the lab. While superficially similar to Twilight’s, the equipment was noticeably more standardized; in contrast, Twilight’s machines had looked like she had built them herself. It was a strange concentration of chrome in a world with so much color, but the lab walls were an overbearing fuschia as if to compensate.

“...no simple answer, but I would postulate that his magic would be somewhere between an alicorn’s and a unicorn’s. Fortunately his mana channels are appropriately developed, so they won’t let through surges as often as an infant’s. However, I would still recommend sealing his magic.”

Celestia looked disappointed but nodded.

“Is that okay with you, Aron?”

“Yes, you know best, after all,” I snarked, still annoyed at her earlier treatment of me.

“Then I’ll perform the spell right now. It’s fairly standard. In major sporting events, it’s used to prevent unicorns in the crowd from interfering. Though it normally wears off fairly quickly, I can modify it so we’ll only have to renew it once a week.”

“That’s fine; do it,” I said, hoping to get this over with.

The princess nodded hesitantly. “I hate to deprive you of your magic, but this will keep you safe from transforming yourself with surges.”

“That’s fine. I don’t want to use pony magic anyway.”

She opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it. Her horn glowed gold for a brief moment and I felt a fuzziness run down my horn and into the front of my skull.

“That should do it,” Celestia said.

Part of me was eager to get out of the stuffy laboratory, but objectively, I knew I should take advantage of the resource that was the professor. She wasn’t my favorite pony, but she could have answers.

“So… how long will I be like this?” I asked.

“Alas, that is the question, is it not? Your case is unprecedented, so I can’t offer any more than speculation. Nevertheless, our conventional understanding offers some guidelines. Punny Square’s law dictates that no combination of alleles can approximate the an alicorn’s omni-aspectual nature.”

“What?” I said flatly.

“An elementary explanation would be…” She put her hoof to her chin, possibly pondering how not to condescend. “Ah, I forget at times that you lack foundational knowledge. We’ve long known and observed that when ponies of different tribes mate, the offspring are usually one of the parents’ tribes. In rare cases, the foal can be of third tribe, but she is never a hybrid pony.”

“How is this relevant to me at all?” I asked, utterly devoid of tact. I put a hoof to my mouth, as if surprised at my candor.

The unicorn observed me for a moment and then smiled. “It means you will likely become an alicorn fully as your next step.”

She then looked to Celestia to explain the next part. “Aron’s wings and gaen duct will have to develop simultaneously in order for the transformation to avoid a highly unstable hybrid state. This will require a large amount of free magical energy to deflect Aron from his current stable state. Though the conflict with his magical signature will eventually overcome these stabilizing factors.”

It somehow annoyed me that she was talking about me as if I weren’t in the room.

“What about his gender?” Celestia asked. “Our lore tells us that male alicorns don’t exist.”

“I had nearly forgotten!” the professor said excitedly. “That would mean that in order for Aron to become an alicorn, his gender would have to change first.” She looked at me again. “You hear that, Aron? It will likely be several months before you’re an alicorn.”

“All right,” I cheered sarcastically. The part I dreaded most was slated to come next.

The mare chuckled in advance at her own joke. “I’m no medical doctor, but here’s my prescription for you: bind your magic, avoid infant unicorns, and stay away from powerful magical sources. I’m even nagging you like a doctor—exercise and eat your sugar while you’re at it.”

I scowled at Celestia. I half-expected she had asked her to say that.

We said our goodbyes and Celestia and I left. It was a bright and sunny day. Ponies galloped by us in the midday bustle. Occasionally, when one came too close to me, Celestia would shield me with an invisible wing. Though I didn’t like being coddled, it was a welcome gesture; I genuinely feared being stepped on, as small as I now was.

I avoided locking eyes with strange ponies for fear of them fawning. Fortunately, school had let out, so I wasn’t the only foal on the street. We made our way to a side-entrance of the castle, of which there were many. Celestia dropped her disguise and a single, wooden-faced guard opened the door for us. We climbed some velvet steps and were once more in the main hall of the palace, ponies bowing in sequence as we passed. I followed her down the main hall, which I had surprisingly never been through before. Judging by her castle’s similarity to Twilight’s layout, I guessed we would be approaching the throne room shortly.

We stopped before a heavy door.

“Here we are, Aron. I have taken considerable time off because of my ailment, but now I fear I must return.”

I was relieved.

“By all means. For a princess, you’ve been far more generous with your attention than I deserve.”

She shook her head gently but didn’t say anything. “You can watch as I hold court if you want.”

“So I can learn how to be a princess? No thanks. Besides, it may not be any use…”

“Aron, stop,” Celesita said firmly. “We are going to keep your memories from disappearing. Luna already has a way she thinks will work. We just need to iron out some of the details. Even if she didn’t, we will not let you be replaced by an entirely new filly—that’s a promise.”

How can you promise that? I thought to myself, unconvinced. It’s not like they’ve done this before. Unless....

“Princess Celestia?”

“Yes, Aron?”

“You said you were around when Princess Cadance was born. Were her parents alicorns? If so, why aren’t there more of you around?”

It was a question that weighed heavily on Celestia’s mind, but her answer seemed genuine.

“That’s a question I’ve been asked countless times, but I really don’t know. Ponies like to say I descended on a fallen star, or that I materialized after the passing of a previous princess of the sun, as if I were a phoenix. However, Cadance’s birth provides the most credible explanation—or non-explanation, depending on how you look at it. In short, she was born to a normal unicorn couple. We have no idea how it happened; perhaps we alicorns are simply born as the balance of the world necessitates. There are still many mysteries of alicorns, notably that of ascension.

“Ascension?”

Celestia paused and phrased her answer as diplomatically as possible.

“Essentially, it’s the process by which a normal pony can become an alicorn. I believe Twilight would explain that best,” Celestia offered. “After all she’s the only known pony to ever accomplish such a feat. We still don’t know how it is consistent with Harmonic Stability of Form; it is a topic of great interest to her.”

“Now,” Celestia said, radiating warmth, “there’s a pony I would like you to meet.”

On cue, a side chamber opened and a pegasus mare stepped through the door. Like all adult ponies, she now towered over me. Her wings and fur were were a blackish gray, while her mane and tail were a deep purple. At first, she bore a stiff expression, but as if remembering at the last minute to be friendly, she smiled the slightest bit at me.

“Aron, this is Star Chart.”

I glanced at her cutie mark, looking for clues. It was a piece of parchment dotted with a bright white constellation that clashed with her coat.

Fitting… Does that mean her talent is being herself?

“She will be taking care of you on my behalf as I return to my regular duties.”

“Okay,” I said, before it hit me.

“Wait, what!? You’re assigning me a nanny?!”

“No!” the two mares quickly responded, exchanging a glance.

“I’m a royal guard,” Star said with pride. “This is a highly important mission to guard you while accustoming you to our world. I will do my best to aid you, but I will not play your mother. I will expect you to hold your own and to get back up when you’re knocked down.”

I turned to Celestia. “I like her already.”

She petted my head gently with a forehoof. “I thought you would. Now then, I need to get day court started. Make sure to take some time to get to know one another.”

Though it wasn’t in my best interest, duty compelled me to remind her: “Didn’t you want me to watch?”

She smiled mischievously. “I was just testing your amenability to it. Today, I’m dealing with zoning regulations, and even the hardened members of the guard have trouble staying awake for such sessions. I wouldn’t want that to be your first impression.”

Celestia clapped her hooves together. “Well, good luck, Star Chart,” she said with a reassuring smile. “You’ll do fine.” And she slipped through the double-doors.

Her departure left the two of us in silence. Star had resumed her guardspony’s composure, while I kept my distance. This standoff dragged on for about two minutes until I decided to speak.

“So, what now?” I asked tentatively.

“You want me to plan your day for you?” she replied bluntly.

I stopped. “No, I suppose not.”

I briefly relished my autonomy before the choice completely stumped me. There weren’t too many experiences in magical pony land that I was abundantly eager to repeat. Walks outside with Trusty had been the most amenable to me, but I had just been out with Celestia.

As if reading my mind the mare offered, “However, I do have a suggestion if you are willing to hear it.”

Colts and fillies dotted the flower fields like multi-colored condiments. Organized by tribe into three rows containing occasional gaps, they faced a medium-sized gray earth pony stallion.

“All right, everypony,” he said in a chipper voice. “What are the three most important things for a guardspony?”

“Courtesy, Commitment and Courage,” the children chanted.

“Very good! Oh, it appears we have a visitor! What can I do for you, Star?”

“Hello, Stone,” Star Chart greeted. “Do you have room for one more? He just moved here, and I volunteered to help him get more involved in the community.”

“Certainly, the Junior Royal Guard is always welcoming new recruits.” He glanced at me and made a cryptic comment: “Especially when they help make our group more diverse. What’s his name?”

“His name is…”

She looked me in the eye expectantly. Clearly she was threatening to name me if I didn’t do so myself. I imagine she would be counting down from five if she possessed digits. Unmoved I glanced patiently at the ponies waiting for me to answer.

“His name is River Glade,” Star finally announced.

River Glade? I suppose that’s not too bad. I could have done worse; she could have named me something like “Blue Grass.”

“We’re happy to have you, River Glade,” the instructor said. “Get in line with the other earth ponies and we’ll get you up to speed.”

Earth ponies? Aren’t I a unicorn?

However, I let a moment of timidity pass without me objecting and felt a hoof tap on my back.

“Aron,” Star whispered. “I hadn’t thought of it but it may be for the best that they think you’re an earth pony. You can’t do any magic, and your small horn would attract a lot of attention.”

Feeling confused, I took a moment to realize that my bangs were completely covering up my horn.

“Besides, the other colts might tease you for it.”

I was slow on the uptake, but then it clicked, and I nodded in agreement.

“Well, good luck, River,” Star said. “I’ll pick you up when you are done.”

“Okay…”

Wow. She was quick to pass me on someone else, I thought, adjusting my evaluation of her slightly downward.

I slid into line with the other earth ponies. There were a total of five of us with my addition, an equal number of pegasi and a baker’s dozen of unicorns.

“Hello,” greeted a few of the children before turning back to the instructor.

“Hmph. A blank flank thinks he can become a guard?” a tall filly next to me commented, showing off her buckler cutie mark. “This isn’t a mark that just anypony can earn.”

A glasses-wearing unicorn colt in front of me heard this and turned around. “Actually, Bulwark, according to the pamphlet for this program, one-third of blank flanks achieve a pertinent cutie mark within four months.”

“Nopony asked for your opinion, Spectacle!” the vermillion earth pony scolded.

Spectacle adjusted his glasses and centered them on me. “Salutations, River Glade. My name is Thaumaturgical Spectacle. I hope to assist you in whatever capacity I can.”

I didn’t know how to respond, but fortunately the instructor chose that moment to halt the discussion.

“Now, everypony, we can get to know our new recruit later. Now, I believe I was discussing the three C’s…”

He lectured for about ten minutes. In some ways it was eerily similar to Davies lectures in form; it was just that the content was different. Stepping Stone extolled the virtues of helping everypony, making Canterlot feel safe and supporting the princesses as they served the ponies of Equestria. I expected to be bored by more pony drivel, yet somehow the contrast in ideologies was fascinating. In a way, it was reassuring to see they were just as committed to their principles as I was to mine.

I wondered if in time I would come to accept their worldview as my own. After all, was it truly odious to me in and of itself? Or was it just the forceful imposition this world threatens me with? Tuning out the lecture somewhat, I looked towards the wide blue sky. The clouds were arranged almost artistically, as they always were. In fact, I was beginning to get suspicious at the general lack of inclement weather. At home, sandstorms were a constant adversity.

Zoning in on a low, hanging cloud, I thought I saw a gray hoof for a moment. When I took a second look, Star Chart popped her head through the cloud momentarily and waved at me.

So she didn’t abandon me after all. I don’t know if I should be bothered by having a constant watch on me, or reassured. Like it or not I’m technically a child…

“Now, it’s time for practice matches! A royal guard has to be prepared for anything, including combat. As you spar, keep in mind that you are doing this so both of you can learn and be better prepared. Remember: violence is always the last resort. Now, some ponies will be more able than others, but remember: everypony learns at their own pace.

I looked around and most of the ponies were somewhat apprehensive; though a few of us were actually excited and we took the lead in following the instructor. He opened up a large wooden crate and handed out child-sized protective armor after gauging what would fit each pony. I had no trouble at all strapping on the front chest piece and the slightly heavier armor on my back. Being as small as I was, there was almost no surface area to protect, and I must have looked as ridiculous as the other ponies.

The instructor then explained the rules: “You are free to try and knock your opponent down however you like; however, do try and incorporate the moves you’ve learned here. Unicorns are free to use magic, but remember that the armor may deflect some spells. Pegasi can fly, but are limited to two seconds in the air every thirty seconds and a maximum height of five feet.”

Seems pretty reasonable. There’s no way I’m going to lose again.

Beside me, the dorky unicorn colt, Spectacle, was shivering a bit and his dark green mane was standing on end.

“Are you nervous?” I asked. “Why did you join the Junior Royal Guards if you’re scared of fighting?”

“Well… I can’t figure out what my cutie mark means,” he explained gesturing to his still-visible cutie mark of magical sparks, “so I am trying everything. Statistically speaking, my chances of an epiphany correlate with the number of new experiences I undertake. I hope my cutie mark isn’t battle magic, though…”

I started to regret starting a conversation with the colt, but I didn’t need to answer, as Stepping Stone came along to split us into pairs for sparring. I felt bad when I ended up paired with the nervous colt. The noise of his teeth chattering started to grate on me as we waited for the signal to take to opposite ends of the flower-marked arena. Deciding more small talk was the lesser evil, I remarked, “Why do we fight on flowers anyway? And why don’t they get crushed?”

Spectacle perked up slightly, clearly in his element. “That’s elementary,” he explained. “With the population of hooved species exploding in the Quaterneighry period, flowers were stomped by the very creatures that could eat them and help spread their seeds. As such, it was only natural that they would develop resilience to being stepped on in order to remain standing and better stand out to ponies.”

He wasn’t to be at ease for long, though, as the instructor called for us to begin. I wished him luck as he swallowed hard. We took to opposite ends of the ring and on the signal, I charged him without a moment’s hesitation. Panicked he fired a volley of magical blasts at me, but he wasn’t even trying to aim and I effortlessly hopped through the gaps of his attack. Locking front hooves, we engaged in a shoving match. Despite—or perhaps because of his fright, he was surprisingly strong at pushing back. Nevertheless, he had no technique whatsoever and I soon succeeded in pinning him to the ground.

We were slated for two more rounds in which I succeeded in pushing him out of the ring twice more. On the third attempt, he had started trying harder with his initial magical volley, but to my great pride, he never once connected. I was beaming. Though my body had changed considerably, my skill and reflexes had translated to this child form.

The instructor looked on, clearly impressed.

“Wow, River,” Stone said. “I didn’t expect for a colt without a cutie mark to be so strong! I’m sorry for underestimating you. Have you done this before?”

“Uhh… yes, they have a similar program from where I’m from,” I half-lied.

“Mr. Stepping Stone, can I fight someone different,” Spectacle asked gasping. “Preferably... another unicorn...”

“You can sit out if you want. You tried really hard.” He turned his head. “Bulwark can you come here?”

The tall, yellow-maned earth pony from before came trotting towards us. She had been left out as the odd-pony-out and was eager for practice.

“I want you to spar with River.”

“Against a blank-flank? You do know I’m the best here, right?”

Stone nodded. “That’s exactly why: I want to gauge River’s ability.”

“Fine…”

Without further delay, we squared off on opposite ends.

At the signal we charged at each other. Despite the armor’s spell, I could feel the initial impact. This filly, at least sixteen inches tall was clearly built strong. We locked necks briefly, but realizing my disadvantage I quickly retreated to gain better positioning. Steadying all four hooves on the ground I looked her in the eye as she taunted me.

“Scared?”

I dashed towards her once more, and we clapped our front hooves together. It wasn’t painful, but the detached sensation of hoof-on-hoof contact was eerie. Her size won out and I tumbled head-over-hooves backwards, towards the edge of the ring.

She boasted again, but I was seeing red at this point. I was determined to try and outmuscle her one more time. She came to meet me at the edge, and I circled around the edge to avoid being pushed out. She put on the brakes quickly and I started to accelerate before she could, to try to get the advantage. However, despite my head-start her momentum prevailed when our helmets collided, rattling both of us. I pushed with all my might, but this time there was no denying that she was simply stronger than me.

The filly smirked at me, clearly confident. However, just when she had pushed me to the edge, I returned her smile. She was visibly unnerved by this. Bracing my back hooves against the boundary line I tightened my grip around her. As if it was programmed into my new body, I was able to tap into muscle memory that I built as a human. Invoking a technique prepared for combat against an enemy that was much more massive than we, I leveraged her strength against her, rolled on my side and tossed her clear out of the ring with one mighty heave.

Triumphant, I scanned around the ring and noticed that the entire group had been watching. The silence was coated with both fear and awe. Embarrassed, Bulwark fled behind the crowd.

“That was quite a show, River, I’m impressed,” Stone finally said.

When it was clear that no one else had anything more to say to try and shatter the tense silence, we moved onto the next activity, still wearing our training armor. Stone split the group into three. The largest, containing seventeen ponies, was to learn some essential skills for camping and survival. The remaining six of us were split into groups of three. I got stuck with Spectacle and a yellow and black pegasus filly. Stone had taken the larger group, leaving a pair of identical unicorn mares to lead the two smaller groups.

“Now,” one of them explained, “an important part of a guard’s work is to deal with the public order. While this sounds exciting, it’s actually a lot of patient waiting.”

“We’re not going to watch paint dry, are we?” Bulwark asked, still meek from her defeat.

“No, we’re still going to have you do something productive.”

She whistled and two familiar foals stepped out of hiding from behind some sandbags.

“Blueberry and Raspberry Citrus here were sentenced to community service by the princesses. What we want you to do is get hands-on experience supervising ponies who are being reformed. After all, law-enforcement falls to the royal guard in Canterlot. One of us will go with each group. River Glade, Zephyr Zap, Thaumaturgical Spectacle, you will take Blueberry Citrus with me. Bulwark, Aurora Beam, Corpuscle Duality, you will take Raspberry Citrus with my sister, Latte. ”

We split up into our sub-groups and followed close behind the white and brown pony. It turned my mood a bit sour when I came to liken it to a bunch of ducklings following their mother, but there was no denying the accuracy of the metaphor. We had to scurry along to keep up with the brisk pace of the mare. We three cadets were instructed to tail Blueberry in case he were to try and escape. In reality, he looked far too compliant and too discouraged by his role in this exercise to consider running. Eventually, the unicorn slowed down and we were able to catch our breath a bit and converse.

“All of this for one little apple…” Blueberry grumbled. “And I get treated like a crook.”

“You do the crime you do the time,” Zap said with a playful smirk.

“An apt summation,” Spectacle said.

Blueberry looked to me for sympathy, but I had none. I still thought he got off far too easily for his petty thievery.
Soon we arrived at a nearby park. Blueberry was handed a rake and a trash bag and he began to rake the leaves into piles. He would then scoop them up with the bag and tie it off before getting another. Zap and Spectacle grew bored fairly quickly. Meanwhile, I was still amazed at the dexterity ponies had with their hooves. Would this be something I could learn quickly?

“Did you know that in some traditional earth pony villages autumn leaves are dislodged by running a race?” Spectacle asked.
“Do you know what’s still more interesting than your trivia?” Zap replied. “Watching him rake leaves for another hour...” She turned to our supervisor. “Is being a guard this boring? Because I think I’m losing interest pretty quickly. If your task is to sell me on the career, you’re not doing a very good job.”

The mare smiled at her. “How many ponies passed us since we started standing watch over our charge?”

“How would I know?” Zap asked. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know,” Spectacle answered, curious. “I didn’t think to note such a thing.”

In my element, I answered, “Four: Two stallions, a filly and a colt. Five if you include the yak.”

“Very good. Now, what were their coat colors?” she challenged.

“Black, pink, yellow and green.”

The children were clearly impressed.

“How did you do that?” Zap asked.

“I don’t know,” I replied. “Just by paying attention?”

“Yes,” the unicorn mare said. “A guardspony must be alert at all times. Duty will sometimes require us to stand guard—big surprise huh?—for long periods of time. It’s easy to lose focus after long periods of time, so it is essential to keep your mind sharp in whatever way you can. To be aware of your surroundings. To be alert to any possible danger. This is an important skill because guards also often need to testify in the courtroom, and the more you are aware of, the more you will remember.”

She then looked to me.

“I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself. I’m Coffee Swirl. I’ve been a royal guard for two years now, Me and my sister, Latte, serve as volunteer mentors for this program.”

“I’m River Glade,” I offered weakly.

“That’s right! I thought I heard your name before.”

“What was that about being aware?” I thought to myself. Fortunately I knew better to insult a superior.

For some reason Zap and Spectacle were snickering, while Coffee was blushing.

“Did I say that out loud?”

The foals were now full-on laughing.

“Well… that’s why I’m still in training. I aspire to be an ideal guard a—and the best way to learn sometimes is to teach,” the mare stammered.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“No, it’s a fair point. It helps if you keep me on my hooves.”

I thought my insubordination would put a damper on things, but it actually provided the bit of levity we needed. Zap continued to talk to Coffee, asking for pointers, while Spectacle tried to dig up related nuggets of info to share. Coffee talked about growing up in Manehattan and how she was inspired to join the guard by a helpful traveling guardsmare. From there she asked us each what we wanted out of this program.

“I want to join the Wonderbolts!” Zap said with vigor.

“I want to find out what my cutie mark means.”

“River?” Coffee asked after a brief pause.

“Oh, uhh.. me too,” I stammered, realizing only a moment later how dumb that sounded with my lack of a mark.

“You mean you want to try earning your cutie mark?”

“Yes, that’s what I meant,” I said quickly, relieved to latch onto an explanation.

I then made a commitment to internalize more knowledge about this world. Knowing it was one thing, but having it readily available so I wouldn’t stumble as I just had would take time.

Note to self: come up with a better backstory.

“It’s impressive that you’re in this program despite not having a cutie mark,” Coffee remarked. “Though, that sure didn’t hold you back…”

“Yeah, River, that was so cool!” Zap squeed.

“Indeed,” Spectacle said, “it certainly puts my loss into perspective.”

“Aren’t guardsponies supposed to be—you know, quiet?” Blueberry asked, returning to get another trash bag from Coffee.

“No complaining, Slacker!” Zap teased.

“Slacker? You’re all standing around doing nothing; I’m doing all the work.”

I thought for a moment. “He has a good point. If we helped we could clean the park much more efficiently.”

The earth colt’s eyes glowed in gratitude for a moment.

“No,” Coffee said, “the point of his sentence is for him to do it himself. By supervising, we’re basically ensuring that justice is carried out. Though, normally, royal guards aren’t needed for such small cases.”

“Then why me?” Blueberry griped.

“You were such a convenient prop for our lesson today that we couldn’t pass up the instructive opportunity,” Coffee explained, clearly amused.

From there, the conversation withered away, but we soon filled the void by challenging each other. We tried recalling the ponies that passed, reciting features of the park without looking, and competing to see who could notice the most subtle details around us. Admittedly, I cheated a bit by immediately pointing out where Star Chart was hiding.

Finally, we finished for the day, returned to the castle and split up to head home. In my case, this meant meeting up with Star again.

“How was it?” she asked as we were heading back.

“It was—I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would. The lessons were overly simple, but it was nice to see some order for once in this world.”

“And was interacting with the other foals overly painful?”

“It wasn’t pleasant, but it seemed more bearable this time.”

“Good…”

“I still can’t believe you defeated Bulwark,” Star added shaking her head. “She’s third generation in a family of guardsponies and has been training for it since she was little…”

“So have I,” I countered as we rounded the stairs to get back to my room.

“Yes, but you don’t even have your cutie mark.”

“What difference does that make?”

“Earning a cutie mark isn’t just a symbolic sign of maturity,” Star explained. “Just having it enhances a pony’s natural abilities and fitness. I suppose it’s my fault for not thinking to make you a fake cutie mark. It’s unusual for a colt your age to not have one.”

The latter part of that statement piqued my interest. “Wait, what do you mean by a colt my age?”

She stopped. “My apologies. I keep forgetting that you’re not from here. I wouldn’t know how to tell you how, but just by looking at you, it’s obvious that you’re a colt in your forties.”

If their years are different than ours, how would I even start to ask how to make the conversion? I doubt this body is older than I was…

“Here we are,” Star Chart announced, opening the door for me. “I’ll fetch you some dinner from the kitchen and you can get started. Any requests?”

“Wait, get started with what?”

She gestured to a gigantic pile of books and papers that certainly wasn’t overflowing from my bedside table this morning.

As I pondered how I would even get up there, Star brought out a step stool out from under the bed. I thanked her and climbed it to reach the bed’s summit, from which I could see a note. Anticipating my request, Star walked over and read it to me:

Aron,

I respect your unwillingness to go to school, so I came to the conclusion that our only recourse was to homeschool you. Wanting to give you the best education possible, I consulted with the biggest expert on learning I know, Twilight Sparkle. She eagerly accepted the challenge and prepared a reading list for you.

Here are her expectations for the first week:

Mathematics: From Neighton to the Present: Chapter 1

My Little Alphabet Book: In full

Essential Drama: Poneo and Milliet.

Pony Law and Government: A Treatise: Pages 95-159

Pony Customs and Cultures: A Traveler’s Guide to Equestria: Chapters 2-4

A Total Idiot’s Guide to Magic (Note: This is not an insult; this popular series explains things from the foundational level.): Introduction

My First Art Book: Kindling Your Foal’s Creative Spirit: In full

Phonemes are Fun: Level 1

Ponjour!: Prench Level 1: Chapter 1

The Crystal Ponies and the Lost Empire: Chapters 1-3

Star Swirl the Bearded: A Biography: Chapter 1

Equestrian Fairy Tales: In full

And the list went on, ending with an arrow to signal its continuation on the other side.

I smirked.

Joke’s on them. I can’t read any of these.

I glanced at Star, and she had a mischievous look in her eye as she turned over the piece of paper.

At this point you are probably thinking your illiteracy exonerates you from your studies. However, Twilight made no such oversight and enchanted the books to read themselves. Your quill will also write for you via dictation. This will be essential for completing your homework.

What’s homework? I don’t like the sound of it...

I looked at the bedside table once more, and interspersed between the books were stacks of paper. Prominently placed was a stack labeled with a sticky note inscribed with a single dot. I gasped in disbelief at the stack; it was as thick as I was tall!

Twilight will come by in a week to administer your first test and check your understanding. Good luck! And remember: if you change your mind, there’s always school!

She’s not serious…

Is she?

Glancing around the classroom, I was beginning to have regrets. Why did she have to choose Canterlot First?

Blueberry Citrus was sitting with his sister near the front and wasn’t happy to see me. Pestle Mix was seated by Spectacle, and she had a hungry look in her eye. Speaking of predators there was a familiar minotaur child wearing a pink bow sitting directly in front in a desk amusingly undersized for her.

“Iron Jill is tired of waiting!” she said, banging the desk. “Who are you?”

“Oh, right, I’m....”

If Spectacle’s here, I can’t exactly use a different name…

“I’m River Glade. I’m from Neighbraska. Um…” “Hi?”

Chapter 13

Twenty-four pairs of eyes bore through me as the colts and fillies waited expectantly.

I opened my mouth to speak, when a wave of deja vu hit me. I couldn’t quite place its source, though. Suddenly remembering that I was dealing with the judgment of children, I quickly composed myself. It was more awkward than intimidating, as I had had no idea what to say when the teacher mare prompted me to tell the class about myself. The silence quickly got to me, though, and I offered the cover story I was provided.

“I’m River Glade. I’m from Neighbraska, where my parents are police ponies. I’m currently staying at the castle as part of an exchange program,” I stated with confidence.

I glanced around the room and found my reception was wanting.

Are they expecting more?

“Do you have anything else you want to say about yourself?” The unicorn teacher asked patiently.

“No,” I answered after a moment of indecision.

She smiled broadly. “All right, you’re a bit shy. That’s okay.”

Shy?

“No, not really. There just isn’t much to say about me,” I responded.

I looked to the colts and fillies in the class, noticing that they seemed unusually interested in their new classmate. The exception was a small unicorn filly with a meticulously coiffured, rust-red, short mane and a light bronze coat. She was tapping her hooves on the desk, clearly bored.

“Oh, don’t be so modest,” the teacher said cheerfully. “Everypony is special in many, many ways. But if you can’t think of anything I’m sure somepony in the class has something she or he would like to know.”

At this, half a dozen hooves shot into the air.

“Zap,” the mare chose, pointing.

The familiar pegasus filly stood up in her desk behind the bored unicorn, which did little to elevate her.

“Where’d you get your cutie mark? You didn’t have it at the Junior Royal Guard exercises two days ago.”

“Oh, you just got your cutie mark? Congratulations, River!” the teacher cheered.

I glanced unfeelingly at the simple shield mark that now adorned my bum. I had been worried that it was a bit too similar to Bulwark’s, but I supposed Celestia knew what she was doing in creating this fake. These marks were so important culturally that I felt a little guilty for deceiving them like this, and the spell that created it struck me as a tool for liars, thieves and spies. While Celestia didn’t deny such uses, she had assured me that it had been developed for the honest purpose of permitting actors to have a mark individualized for each role.

“After spending my first day at the Junior Royal Guard, I realized that what I wanted to do was uphold the law in Equestria. I had done so well in the sparring and the field exercise that I thought that maybe I could do it, and then my mark appeared.”

I still avoided saying a phrase as fluffy as “cutie mark,” but otherwise, I delivered the story Star Chart had created for me perfectly. According to her, it was a question I would be getting a lot.

“That’s so cool!” Zap squeed. “You deserve it! We’re all happy that you took down Bulwark a peg or two. She’s way too stuffy.”

“That’s not very nice,” the teacher lightly scolded. “Anypony else?”

She called on the next pony.

“What’s your favorite color?” a small colt asked.

Is that even a question?

“Gray,” I answered, picking the first color that came to mind.

“Are some of your favorite things gray?” the teacher asked, trying to prompt me into elaborating.

“Yeah, I like rocks,” I said, bored.

Seven hooves were still in the air.

Thankfully, the teacher said, “We only have time for one more… yes, Pestle!”

The unicorn filly was staring at me intensely, as if trying to dissect me with her eyes.

“Do you know Sapphire Luster?”

“What!?” I burst out, recoiling.

“He’s a unicorn colt I met in Canterlot a few weeks ago. He was also an exchange student living in
the castle. Surely you’ve met him at some point since you are both in the same program. Come to think of it, his mane looks just like yours… I’d almost think you were related.”

“I—no—I don’t know what you are talking about..” I laughed nervously, rubbing the back of my head.

“River, are you shaking?” the teacher asked.

“No,” I lied, immediately stopping myself.

Man, this filly gives me the chills. She’s sharp!

“Okay, that’s enough for now. It’s time to start now. You can all catch up with River during recess.”

A wave of groans and disappointment swept through the room.

“There’s an open desk behind Zap. How about you sit there, River.”

I nodded in relief and cantered to the open seat. It took me a moment to figure out how to get up into the one-armed desk and eventually I settled on hopping up. I didn’t get any weird looks, so apparently this was how it was done. I took stock of my surroundings and started with the room itself. Like the interior of most buildings, the classroom was brightly colored. Being for children, the saccharine quality was maximized by hand-painted art of clouds, rainbows, flowers, balloons and stick ponies. Contrasting sharply with the three other walls, the front of the room was dominated by a large chalkboard and lectern.

“Good day, my good filly!” an immature, yet refined voice said.

I looked to my left and to my surprise the speaker was a griffin child. His feathers were of a green complexion much like my own fur. I did a double-take, but a second look left no doubt that he was speaking to me.

“I am Beakington the Third. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Filly? Can he see my magical signature? Th—this isn’t good… how should I respond?

“Beaky, that’s obviously a colt,”the unicorn two desks in front of me said in the most uppity way possible. "Although his girlish mane obviously belongs on a filly, how could you not realize something so obvious?”

At this, the griffin blushed profusely and turned away shyly. “M—my apologies,” he stammered. “It can still be hard for me to tell everywing apart, and I guess I still haven’t quite grown accustomed to it. Sorry.”

I might have been as embarrassed as he was, over my mane, but having considered the worse alternative of my secret being blown, I was relieved.

“Okay, everypony!” the teacher said giddily. “Today is Wednesday, so that means it’s time for math class!”

She paused for a moment as if waiting for her enthusiasm to be reciprocated, but aside from a beige filly with an abacus cutie mark scooting forward, the lack of cheer seemed to drain all the sound from the room.

“Today we’ll be starting ALGEBRA!”

Miss Abacus the unicorn did a backflip of joy.

“River, is this level appropriate for you?”

I nodded confidently.

Celestia had prepared me for this as well. Every school had its own curriculum and pace. As home to many ambassadors’ children, Canterlot First took a more diverse look at pony culture. The subjects that were actually relevant to me, like history and civics, would be presented in a way conducive to an outsider’s understanding. On the other hand, there was no getting around that a universal subject like math would be overly simplistic.

“Great!” the teacher said. “Now, let’s start with some review.” She started writing basic math on the board, mostly multiplication and division problems. “Does anypony want to volunteer?”

A predictable hoof shot up.

“Anypony other than Clever Theorem?”she asked expectantly.

“Mrs. Fizzle?” the bronze filly said.

“Yes, Annuity?”

Where have I heard that before?

“Why don’t we have River solve them? That way we’ll know if he’s up to speed or if he’ll need extra tutoring.”

For some reason, the Citrus siblings turned to face me with expressions of sympathy, which were shared by a few other ponies as well.

“An excellent suggestion! River, don’t be shy. Come on up!”

Fizzle pushed a small stool in front of the blackboard, and I took the hint and climbed it. I wasn’t nervous in the slightest despite all eyes being on me. On the contrary, I was pleased that I could make a first impression of competence in the one subject I knew I had a handle on. Examining the piece of chalk presented to me, I realized my first dilemma. I knew from watching the court reporter that ponies could write with their hooves. On the other hand, Star had made me practice my mouthwriting, so I wasn’t total newbie. I held slight concerns that I would be expected to write with my hooves, but fortunately nopony batted an eye when I took the chalk in my mouth. Still, this didn’t detract at all from the acute chalk taste I was forced to endure.

20 / 2 =

I quickly wrote in 10 and moved on.

3 x 3 =

I carefully sketched a 9.

13 / 6

I wrote in 13/6, imitating the question with my answer. After all, I didn’t know their stance on non-terminating decimals.

“While that is correct, River, here, we usually put it in its simplest form,” Fizzle said.

I lifted my hoof to erase, unsure what she was talking about.

“But your other school may have taught you differently. Go on.”

I moved to the next problem.

2 x 4

Simple enough.

5 x 5

I wrote 25

A pair of fillies in the front row started snickering. The teacher and I looked to the source simultaneously, but they had already stopped.

“River?”

“If I gave five apples to five friends, do you really think I would need fifty-one apples?”

“Of course not,”I said.

The teacher cocked her head, curious.

“How about these?”

She wrote 5+5, 5+5+5 and 12/5

Naively, I wrote 10, 15 and 2.4. Thinking back on my earlier my mistake, I tentatively turned to face the class. My heart jumped when a realization struck me.

Could their math be different? How is that possible?

The snickering of fillies was even louder this time.

“Twenty-eight? How can he get twenty-eight?”

“The next one is even better. How does he get it that wrong? Two point four? He must be joking.”

“Even Iron Jill knows that five plus five is ten!”

That’s what I wrote!

Fizzle glared at the chattering front row, which immediately went silent. She then lowered her muzzle towards me to condescend. “That’s okay, River, everypony learns at different speeds. We’ll get you caught up in no time. You can sit back down now,” she coddled.

I should have been horribly embarrassed at flunking basic math, but I was occupied with other surging emotions as I trotted back to my desk: indignity at being humiliated in front of children juxtaposed with unbridled confusion.

“Does anyone want to—yes, Annuity.”

The teacher hadn’t said one word before the unicorn filly’s hand shot up.

As soon as she was called, she galloped to the board, hopped on the stool and lit up her magic to manipulate three pieces of chalk at once.

5+5=A

5+5+5=F

12/5=5

I smirked. I had no idea what the symbols she had written in answer to the first two were, and she may well be right, but there was no way twelve divided by five was five.

“Correct!” the teacher praised.

Annuity looked smugly back at me.

I hate this world…

“The Treaty of Quebeak marked the effective end of the Griffin empire. Although, Griffonia continued to nominally be a nation state for four more years, tensions between the griffin clans soon reached a fever pitch. Their pride, which had so dominated the national identity, couldn’t stomach a military defeat. Soon, relations between the largest clans—the Barbeaks, the Featherven, and the Eggnostics—deteriorated, marking the beginning of the rapid disintegration of a continuous griffin settlement,” Raspberry Citrus recited from our textbook.

History had been a welcome change of pace. The class was characterized by the students reading from the text. Occasionally Mrs. Fizzle would chime in with further elaboration or ask prepared questions to check the reader’s understanding. She would even direct some of her questions at anypony who looked like they were slacking off. My experience with school had ingrained in me the necessity of remaining alert at all times, so fortunately this wasn’t a problem for me.

“Thank you, Raspberry, who wants to read next?”

A few hoofs rose and at least one paw.

“Yes, Bubble Bauble, go ahead.”

A blue and blue unicorn filly in the back row took her turn at reading: “Per the terms of the treaty, many of the emerging independent territories, began opening their borders to other races; some were more accommodating than others in that respect. While the griffins ceded most of their lands on the Equestrian continent to the pony diarchy, some traditional griffin holdings, such as Griffinstone were allowed to remain under their traditional rule.”

So even the pretty pony princess of the sun lowered herself to land grab through war? Maybe she’s not completely soft after all.

I felt my opinion of her rise somewhat..

“Okay, that’s good, Bubble, thank you,” the teacher said. “Now, let’s review some of our new vocabulary. Who can tell me what the word nascent means?”

I rose my hoof in the air.

“Yes, River!” the mare designated, clearly pleased at my participation.

“It means emerging, developing or new,” I answered.

“Very good.”

I smiled. I learned a long time ago to grab the low-hanging fruit in school: if you volunteer for the easy questions, you’re far less likely to be picked on when you’re completely stumped. The class then went through a few more vocabulary words: diarchy, to cede and nation-state. At that point the bell rang and the ponies cheered audibly and dashed out the door for “recess”. In theory, it was a rule that everypony was supposed to wait until they were dismissed, but it seemed like Fizzle had long since given up on enforcing that particular rule.

“Pretty interesting stuff, huh, River?” Beakington III asked.

“Yeah,”I answered, not completely lying. It would have been nice to learn about the conflict itself, but it seemed like they had already covered that. As it stood, it was still quite illuminating.

Why exactly is he talking to me, though?

Right as Fizzle trotted out the door to supervise recess, Annuity and Bubble accosted us.

“Is learning about how the ponies kicked your flank that fascinating to you, Beaky?” Annuity chided. “I suppose there’s not much choice for griffin history. All you griffins do is lose.”

“That’s not true!” Beakington objected. “The griffins won at Saddlehead, Bridle Beach and—and…”

“I’ll save you the trouble of trying to recall. That’s it.”

Beakington III blushed.

“Having your empire broken up serves you griffins right, though. After all, you birdbrains started the war.”

“That’s not true!” Beakington said. “It was precipitated by a variety of multi-faceted factors including competition over resources, mutual toxic nationalism, frayed trade relations, excessive tariffs on weather services, Princess Luna’s bad mane day, the battle magic lobby, Blood Hackle Clan proving rituals, the death of Emperor Wizened Wing without progeny, and most importantly of all a fundamental disagreement of the place of carnivores in the Age of Enlightenment.”

However, his powerful argument was refuted by an equally compelling response.

“Nerd!” Bubble teased.

“I am not!” Beakington III protested.

I turned to leave, figuring I had already stayed so long. It would make sense that griffins would be jeered at for coming out on the losing side. I would not be surprised if my people were living as second class citizens among those heinous bears. The least the victors owe the defeated is a noble death. The fact that griffins were even allowed to exist among ponies was another example of their intolerable softness. It would have been a kindness to destroy the Griffin Empire totally rather than to cruelly allow it to limp along as directionless shards of a civilization. Perhaps Beakington III was kept around as a trophy to remind the ponies of their triumph? It would promote unity and make sense. Yes, I was sure I had figured it out now.

“What’s wrong, New Colt? Aren’t you going to defend your friend?” Bubble mocked.

“Friend?” I asked, confused. Beakington slumped at this for some reason.

“I figured you two newbies would herd together in a flash—the two outcasts, the nerd and the dunce,” Annuity mocked.

The words of a mere filly did not bother me in the slightest. I had shown my weakness, so she was right to berate me for it. I was actually glad that someone understood that law of my home.

I left and didn’t look back. The joviality of the playing foals contrasted sharply with the scene I had just witnessed. Fillies were jumping rope, Spectacle and a few of the colts were examining a grasshopper with a magnifying glass, and a large group was playing some game I did not understand.

“Hey, River, want to play hide n’ go seek with us?” Zap asked, flying to close the distance between us.

“He can’t,” a colt I recognized as Daybreak said. “We’re in the middle of a game.”

“Oh,” Zap said. “Sorry, River. Maybe next time!”

And she made her exit just as quickly as she appeared. That left me stumped as to exactly what I was supposed to be doing, but I didn’t want to admit my confusion to the teacher and further expose myself as a patsy. Observing for a few minutes I concluded that this was some sort of time for physical activity. It made sense: none of the other classes were physically-based.

Satisfied with my conclusion, I spent the rest of the half-hour running methodically around the fenced field. The foals looked at me somewhat strangely, but what I was doing didn’t seem too out of the ordinary.

“Run, Glade, run!” One filly called after me, smiling, pleased with herself, as if she had made a joke.

The first thing that I noticed was that my apparently boundless child energy did not translate well into stamina. Within two minutes I was already panting and had to stop. Nonetheless, I pressed on and continued running laps around the pony playground. The directionless class period seemed to drag on extra long, but fortunately my training allowed me to counteract the boredom somewhat.

“All right, everpony, recess is over!” Fizzle called.

I slowed down to a canter from full gallop and gradually decreased my speed further. My muscles ached, but I was pleased with what I had done. Still, I was ready for the next class.

Once the class had gathered in its entirety, Fizzle clapped her hooves together in what must have been a signature gesture of hers.

“Okay, everypony, it’s time for music class!”

I cringed.

From the class there were genuine cheers, which cut beneath my skin like an icy wind. I noticed Annuity taking account of this; she smirked. Although an unpleasant pony, I did have to give her credit for being aware of her surroundings. Once more I cursed this childish form. My emotions seemed to have grown with me shrinking and were much more difficult to conceal.

“Okay, who wants the leading role in today’s performance? Today’s topic is how everypony is special.”

Almost every hoof rose into the air. Notable exceptions were the she-minotaur and griffin.

“Annuity! You haven’t done it in a while,” the teacher announced.

Smiling sinisterly, the filly proposed, “Actually, Mrs. Fizzle, since this is River’s first day here I thought he could have the honor.”

The mare beamed at the suggestion.

“That’s an excellent idea, Annuity, but River didn’t raise his hoof.” She winked at me. ‘But I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to volunteer once he gets accustomed to how we practice. Why don’t you do it?”

The bronze filly wasn’t displeased with this outcome. She looked back at me, silently broadcasting, “you got lucky” to me. I appreciated her challenging me to confront my weaknesses, but her motives were clearly less-than-pure.

Next, Annuity picked Bubble Bauble from among the volunteers to sing the duet part with her. Even in Equestria, it was good to see cronyism was live and well. The teacher then sorted us into groups. I was put into the background chorus along will Jill, Beakington, Pestle Mix, Thaumaturgical Spectacle and more than half-a-dozen others. From there we were instructed to get with our groups and brainstorm some themes. Seeing my only recourse, I seized my opportunity. It was a dishonorable gambit I wasn’t fond of, but the situation warranted it.

“Mrs Fizzle?”

“Yes, River, how can I help you?”

“I am feeling sick currently. Although I regret having to miss class, I would recommend you dismiss me to see the campus physician.”

To my surprise she didn’t turn me down. Even worse: she instead opted to embrace me, bringing me close to her barrel in a tight hug.

“I know you’re a bit shy, My Little Pony, but this will be a good opportunity to come out of your shell at your new school. When something looks intimidating, instead of running away, you should face it. That’s the best way to learn and grow.” She gave a knowing look. “Besides your guardian told me you might try to wiggle our way out of music class.”

Darn you, Celestia…

“Why do we even need music class anyway?” I complained.

“Spontaneous musical numbers are a national treasure. Surely you’ve been enthralled with the ability of adult ponies to create and improvise songs?”

“Yes?”.

“Well, some ponies may tell you otherwise, but nopony is born knowing how to do synchronized singing all on their own; it takes practice. You’ve got to keep working, and someday, participating in spontaneous song sequences will be second-nature to you.”

“But I don’t want to…” I said in token objection.

She hugged me even tighter.

“I know it was difficult at your old school. Being enrolled in a failing school and having seven different teachers in two years is no way to learn. It’s no wonder you’re so behind in reading, music and math.”

I was speechless. This mare was so warm and genuine that her pony essence threatened to overflow and seep into me via osmosis.

She finally put me down.

“Don’t worry. We’ll meet these challenges one step at a time. I understand where you are and won’t ask too much of you all at once. But for now, you should rejoin your group. I’m sure you have some great ideas!”

I sulked and walked away.

Ponyfeathers? Yeah, that was how those guards cursed. It’s warranted here regardless, so ponyfeathers…

Thankfully, the group discussion was wrapping up and I only needed to wait two more minutes before we were directed to go to our places.

Out of the blue, a chipper woodwind tune swept through the school grounds. I swallowed hard. There was going to be no way of getting out of this one. The whimsical tune was enchanting; I felt like it had a grip on me, holding my sanity hostage until I joined in. Annuity nodded her head in time for about thirty seconds before it gave her the natural indication to begin.

“Everypony has joy to bring, you need only look inside you. Everypony’s got their own special skill to make their grand debut.”

“At level forty when they unlock their prestige class,” Spectacle murmured, earning him a hoof-bump from Pestle.

Annuity started walking in rhythm and I mimicked my section in following her in formation at about half-speed. Fortunately, the simple formation took no time at all to grasp. The tempo of the music then rose and we all picked up our pace in response.

“Walking along the street each day, I see reams and reams of ponies. Manes and coats colorful and diverse, tails wavy, long, and terse. They say a pony’s color comes from within. I know it as a matter of fact. Everypony offers a friend to meet—with whom to interact.

She stopped and waved to Zephyr Zap.

“Good morning, Zap.”

“Good morning, Annuity!”

“Good morning, Blueberry!”

“Oh, good morning, Annuity…” Blueberry said weakly.

“What’s the matter?” the unicorn filly asked, approaching him in carefully blocked movement.

“Oh, nothing… somepony made me feel bad about myself. I’m a no-good pony.”

Annuity smiled for a moment before putting on a sympathetic smile. “Don’t be silly!” she said wrapping one hoof around him and starting to march again. On the next verse, the front section of the class started following the designated leader in a v-formation.

“Always remember. Don’t forget! Nopony is more special than you, or more special than me.”

“Some ponies have money!” A colt to the right of annuity sang with a fake doubloon in hand.

“Some ponies are funny!” A filly in the front sang, deflating a whoopee cushion.

“Some ponies like honey!” A different filly sang, lifting up a honey pot in her mouth.

Where are they getting all of these props?

A unicorn colt pulled out of cards “Some ponies play gin rumm—“ He blushed and looked side to side, clearly stumped as his planned rhyme failed. “Uhh… I gotta go—my nose is runny.” And he ran off.

Unfortunately, Annuity saved the musical sequence flawlessly.

“None of that matters!” She then sang in a rapidfire style I couldn’t recognize. “A pony’s worth comes from within, not from kind of kin. If a pony doesn’t like you, don’t let it get under your skin. Everypony’s special that’s the word. Let me tell ya’ll ‘bout what I heard!”

In unison the entire class sung, “Everypony has something special to bring. Come on everypony! Everypony has a song to sing! Get up everypony!”

I hummed and hawed along, not knowing this song. The lyrics were simple, so I had them ready for the next outing of the chorus. They had said this was improvised, but surely the other students weren’t psychic; they had to know this song.

“When I was a filly my mother used to ask me, “Annuity what do you want to be when you’re a fine young mare?” I told her all I want is to be my own pony. Even now this is what I want—this and this only. I will be the best mare I can be—this I surely swear.”

As if on cue, Bubble Bauble stepped to the center of the line and put her muzzle close to Annuity’s, and they sang together.

“Earth ponies till the earth and bring life’s berth. Pegasi bring the rain for everypony’s gain. Unicorns have magic touch; they’re quite handy as such. Equestria’s brighter with all three—a harmonic trinity.”

“But I’m not that good at magic,” the unicorn colt from earlier griped.

“And the weather is boring,” Zap added.

“And I have a higher calling than farmwork,” A snooty-looking earth filly said.

“Don’t worry,” Annuity said cheerily. “Because—“

“Everypony has something special to bring. Come on everypony! Everypony has a song to sing! Get up everypony!”

“Everytaur too,” Jill added awkwardly.

“And every Griffin three,” Beakington III sang.

From there, a few more awkwardly rhymed verses continued. It was obvious that everyone present was more interested in this than I was, including the other non-ponies. I sang along during my insignificant part in the chorus until finally the musical number came to an end with one last iteration of the chorus.

“All right, everypony, very good job!” Fizzle said with a look of pride. You’re all getting better every day. Very good use of rap, Annuity.”

The bronze filly beamed.

“You all get full points for the message of the song, too.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. Wasn’t that all Annuity—and the assigned theme no less?

“I liked your additions to the song, Jill and Beakington III. But remember that chorus members usually don’t have individual lines. Still, we shouldn’t forget our non-pony friends.”

From there she made a few more comments directed at various individuals. She even critiqued the performance of some of the background chorus members! Assuming she wasn’t putting on airs, it was amazing that this mare could distinguish one voice among around two-dozen. For a tense moment it looked as if she had something to say to me, but thankfully she abruptly dismissed class to the cheers of everypony. It was only noon, but I certainly couldn’t muster any objection.

“Hey, River, I have an experiment I need help with and—“

I pretended not to hear Pestle as I made a beeline towards the gate.

I made it about a hundred yards outside the premises before I was accosted yet again.

“There you are, River!” Zap said, flying to catch up to me. “We’re playing hide n’ seek again if you want to join us. What’s your hurry anyway?”

“I’m sorry, I have to get back to the castle,” I answered. In truth I had had more than enough pony glee for the day. A playdate with an energetic filly was the last thing I wanted.

“Oh, maybe next time then…”

And so, I walked alone along the bustling Canterlot quarter, meeting with Star Chart at the prearranged rendezvous point.

“You know you could have played with them, right? It would have been good for you.”

“I am aware,” I replied curtly.

Twilight sat at the side of Celestia’s throne, waiting for Aron’s return. It was a bit strange for Celestia to be seated while she was on the floor, but it would be weird for her to have a throne in Celestia’s castle anyway. Her wings were buzzing with excitement. She hadn’t planned to come back to Canterlot so soon, but hearing firsthoof impressions from another being about Equestrian schools was too fascinating to pass up.

Without warning, a sober thought passed through her head.

“Umm…. Princess Celestia?”

“Yes, my favorite student?”

“D—did we ever tell Aron our number system is base twenty-three?”

In response, Celestia’s regal mask drooped into a slight frown.

“I—I may have forgotten to mention that.”

Author's Note

Special thanks to Greycait for helping inspire that base-23 bit.

Warning: Nerd Snipe Ahead. If you're susceptible to math puzzles and will spent the rest of the day trying to solve this I don't recommend you continue:

Originally I was going to have Aron be presented a division problem instead of 5 x 5, but I couldn't come up with something that fit. Can anyone come up with a problem that fits that following criteria:

A division problem whose answer is a natural number in both base-23 and base 10.

That has a different answer in base 23 and base 10.

Does not use any digits higher than 9, because that would alert Aron that something is up.

I tried working on this for about 30 minutes, but my formula for satisfying the first rule would always fail the second. Good luck.

Chapter 14

On the way back to the castle, Star Chart made some indirect attempts to ask about my day, but I felt no need to relive it again so soon by retelling it. After all, I was obligated to make a full report report to Celestia anyway. I didn’t dislike the mare by any means, but if the princess expected me to open up to my new retainer just because she was of a similar profession as I, she was mistaken. Consequently, the trot back offered a pleasant quiet, or at least as much as could be had in Equestria’s capital.

At the entrance, a generic-looking guard accosted us and told us that the princesses were awaiting us in the main dining hall. Star nodded in acknowledgement and led me along a series of winding corridors to the back entrance. Other than a flimsy cover story about being a transfer student, I already had little enough justification for being in the castle, let alone dining with the princess, so it made sense for them to take precautions.

To my surprise, both Twilight Sparkle and the normally nocturnal younger sister were present along with Celestia. The elder princess was waiting serenely, sipping some hot tea. Luna greeted me through a yawn and was drinking some coffee. Twilight, however, had the caffeinated jittery look I had come to associate with a deluge of questions. For the moment, however, she settled for greeting me in an enthusiastic but dignified manner.

“Hello,” I responded simply.

I could understand two of them being gathered by happenstance, but for all three to be present, something had to be up. The three of them all looked like they were waiting for me to make a move. I looked to Star for support, but she had wordlessly slipped away at some point.

A server stallion brought some hay sandwiches and a plate of mini-pastries. We each helped ourselves, and I contented myself with pondering the absurdity that I was eating hay. Disturbingly, it tasted even better than the first time I’d had it. Hopefully this was an innocuous acquired taste as opposed to my colt brain hijacking my sense of taste.

“So, Aron. Did anything interesting happen on your first day of school?”

I thought back.

Weird math, some interesting history, hyperactive children, musical numbers…

“Nope,”I said with a disarming smile. “Everything’s as I would expect from this world.”

“Truly? Nothing ‘stood out?’” Luna asked, receiving a nod from her sister for her correct idiom use.

“No. Your curriculum was a bit abnormal, but most of it resembled that which I had at home.”

“Care to tell us about it?”

“No,” I repeated, practically begging them to let me eat in peace.

Celestia showed the slightest bit of reserved disappointment and acceptance all in the span of a second.

“All right, Twilight, go ahead.”

Being let off her leash Twilight whipped out a notepad and asked her first question:

“What was most different about your school as opposed to those of Equestria?”

I wanted to shrug my shoulders, but I still didn’t know the pony equivalent.

“Your school days are shorter for one. Ours were usually all day. There was no singing on Rhod, thankfully.”

“Ah, yes, we thought you would might enjoy that part of the curriculum,” Luna said ironically.

“I learned you fought a war with the griffins,” I continued. “I didn’t even expect you to even have wars here.”

“It was a different time,” Celestia explained somberly. “War seemed like the only option then. If I knew then what I know now, I may have had the wisdom to avoid conflict altogether.”

It was a disappointing answer, as I thought her willingness to send ponies to war showed some decisiveness about her. Then again, I had to remind myself that I still knew almost nothing about the conflict.

“Oh, and your math is wrong,” I added as a lazy afterthought.

Twilight’s ears drooped. “I’m sorry we forgot about that, Aron. I of all ponies should have remembered to tell you. Our number system is base twenty-three. I know it may seem odd but there’s a good reas—or rather, a reason we use it. What number system do your people use?”

“Ten,” I answered.

Twilight smiled smugly at Celestia. “See! They use base ten as well. It’s just so much better!”

Celestia shook her head. “Twilight, you know I agree with you on principle, but we can’t just decree a shift in the cultural and scientific paradigm.”

“I know it may seem impractical, but the costs associated with switching will almost immediately be compensated for by faster cognitive processing and more efficient teaching methods. Besides we’ve done it before; we can do it again!”

“This is something you talk about often?” I asked, somewhat curious.

Celestia remained silent, but her expression said, “Aron, you have no idea.”

Twilight on the other hoof was eager to prove herself right and launched into an explanation:

“Long ago, ponies used numbers just like you do. We used base ten because it’s simple and intuitive for counting. Watch: one, two, three four”—starting with her left forehoof she lifted each of her hooves as she counted—”five”—she swished her tail to the side—”six, seven, eight, nine”—she used her hooves again—”ten”—she put her tail back in its initial position.

“Base ten, as opposed to base four, has the advantage of being compact to write, while requiring only ten distinct digits.”

I took a sip of water and looked at her confusedly. “It makes sense. Why did you ever switch, then?”

“We didn’t. Not by choice at least,” Luna chimed in.

“I think you’ll learn about it in class pretty soon. How do I—well, in short, it was a boneheaded decision by a former ruler.”

“Come now, Twilight I’m hurt,” a dignified, yet sinister voice came from behind me. “While I won’t deny my head may be bonier than average, I was never any sort of ruler; why, that would imply responsibility.”

I turned and saw the strangest creature this land had yet thrown at me. Its body was serpentlike and looked like different parts of a multi-colored quilt had been sewn together. It had asymmetric arms and legs that looked like they belonged to a griffin. It was bearded, and its snout was greyish-brown and distinctly non-equine. It had misshapen horns atop its head. Most startling, however, was its yellow, red-pupiled eyes.

“Not now, Discord,” Twilight said, exasperated.

In a moment of defrosting realization the three princesses exchanged panicked looks.

“NO!!” Twilight squealed.

Before I had my wits about me, three different energy shields surrounded me as every alicorn horn in the room shone a different color.

Discord knocked on the outermost, blue barrier. “Why I almost forgot about you. Who’s this now? Wining and dining the princesses... Is this some aristocrat’s brat? I can hear it now: ‘My mummy and daddy got me lunch with the princesses I’m so much better than you’. And now you’re protecting him from the big, bad Discord?” He showed his teeth at the last part.

“Actually, Discord, he’s…”

“Wait, let me guess.” With that Discord magicked himself into a doctor’s outfit, complete with a strange looking head mirror. He put a stethoscope to the outer barrier. “Hmm,” he hummed.

I then heard a strange mechanical screeching noise and a print-out began to flow out of his mouth. He ripped part of it off and swallowed the remainder.

“Ohhhh. Oh-hoh,” the creature laughed. “My, this is the last thing I expected.”

“Discord,” Celestia said commandingly, “this is a serious matter. Don’t tell anyone about it.”

Discord waved his front limbs in front of him dismissively. “I would never do such a thing. However… sometimes my mouth tends to move on its own.”

With that, Discord’s mouth started moved horizontally across his face and started to come off completely.

“We mean it, Discord. You know what we’ll do.” Luna threatened.

Discord’s mouth snapped back into place.

“What? To stone again? Surely you wouldn’t damage the feng shui of your perfect garden with such a tacky statue?” Discord smiled with a cheshire grin, until a thought seemed to occur to him. ‘Wait... you don’t mean?”

The sisters nodded.

“Nopony—rather, you must tell no one at all,” Luna clarified.

Discord swallowed hard and switched his doctor’s garb into a sailor suit. “Aye aye, Captain.”

With this strange creature around, the momentary silence seemed much more unnatural. Apparently he loathed it, as he almost immediately spoke up again.

“Remind me: I believe I was here for some antics. What triggered it again?”

“Your ridiculous base twenty-three number system,” Twilight said, perturbed. “How you changed how we perceive and understand math just because it was funny.”

“Funny? Why of course don’t you think so?”

“No!”

“Well, it wasn’t just because I found it funny. Have you ever considered my position? Your base ten was quite non-intuitive for me. This way is much more convenient. See?”

Discord floated in the air and held out his four extremities and flexed all of his digits. Without counting, it was apparent that he had exactly twenty-three fingers and toes.

“Besides, you could have changed it back once you had, shall we say, cockatrice-eyed me? The original time that is.”

Twilight’s annoyed expression intensified to a comedic level. “You magically changed all of our books to use it! Our entire knowledge of mathematics was contorted overnight!”

“Did I now?”

“Yes!” All three princesses replied forcefully.

“Because of you, our written and spoken forms of numbers are like separate languages!”

Discord laughed. “My, you ponies can be stubborn.”

Twilight pouted and looked too worked-up to function. Discord, meanwhile had already moved on from their little argument and turned his attention back to me.

“What’s the idea with these things, anyway?” Discord tapped on the magical barrier again. “A mite cold don’t you think?”

“Surely it is obvious?” Luna asked. “A minute longer exposed to pure chaos such as thyself and this little one would be rendered an infant alicorn.”

Discord grinned. “An infant alicorn, you say?” He changed his sailor outfit into some sort of classical garb with a bubble pipe. He put a magnifying glass to the barrier and I came face-to-face with a big, yellow eye. “Ah, I see. A filly no less. Here I was hoping that we would get a pony prince that’s not a complete dullard.”

“Didn’t you know that already?” Twilight asked, confused.

“I said no such thing.”

Here I am being treated like an object again, I thought, hoping once more that I wasn’t just a placeholder to these ponies. Still, with something crazy popping in out of the blue, I was grateful for being excused from diving headlong into chaos.

“—do you mean? If that wasn’t it? Then what did you see?”

“Not telling,” Discord said, teasingly, literally zipping his lips shut.

He unzipped them just as quick and pointed down. “Especially not to all of you.”

“What are you pointing to?” Celestia asked, trying desperately not to be amused by their squabble.

“Indeed,” Luna added. “The underground batpony capital of old now lies deserted.”

“Oh, dear. How to begin to explain? One of my favorite chaotic things? Oh look at the time! I have tea with Fluttershy in just under three hours. I musn’t be late. Toodaloo!”

With that, he vanished in a spark of magic.

Twilight was taking deep breaths to calm herself.

“Sister, have you any clue what just happened?”

“No, Luna, I haven’t the slightest idea.”

Calming herself, Twilight chimed in: “It’s probably nothing. After all, remember when we wasted an entire afternoon trying to guess what was in Discord’s secret box?”

“I hope so, Twilight. It will likely be decades before I can tell what that one is thinking with any consistency.”

With school over, I was completely perplexed as to what I was supposed to be doing. Considering, I was too young to work and that I was decidedly against playing with foals, the only Idea that was left to me was training. Unfortunately, after an hour of practicing my footwork I was called back in by Star Chart. Despite my protests, she insisted that I was young and had to know my own limits. Further disgusted by the limited capabilities of this form, I reluctantly trotted in.

From there, I was led into Twilight’s personal chambers at the castle. To my surprise, it was a room little different than my own. True, it was a tad purpler and a bit bigger, but it was far from what I expected for a princess. Effectively, it was even smaller than mine due to the stacks of books she had around. I was almost afraid of being crushed under them.

I turned my head. “Star?”

However, she was already gone. She was really good at vanishing like that; I had yet to catch her in the act.

“Oh, Aron, ready for your first writing lesson?”

“I guess…”

I expected quite a lot out of Twilight in a bad way, but fortunately the experience was reasonable. Twilight had scaled back her expectations dramatically from what I would have guessed based on her hoof-made curriculum. Still, the material was challenging.

Unlike, their math, their writing system was completely logical. Unfortunately, its adherence to a one-to-one correspondence between phonemes and graphemes—Twilight gave a five minute lecture when I asked her what those were—was more logical than what we had used on Rhod, making it difficult. Though Lucens was a relatively simple language, we had somewhat awkwardly adapted our own twenty-five letter script to it.

Twilight peppered me with questions about it, but fortunately I was able to deflect most of them for the moment. She did have me reproduce a copy of my letters for her to study, though. Equestrian script had thirty-nine letters. While they looked intimidating at first, the letters themselves weren’t as challenging as they seemed. I asked her about the pony pictographs I had seen around Canterlot, and she reassured me that it was an archaic script.

Still, the knowledge that it could be even harder for me did little to help me at the moment. Writing would be a matter of becoming accustomed to writing with mouth or hoof. Spelling, however, would remain a serious issue for some time. I was convinced that Ponies had made things needlessly complicated, but Twilight was insistent that every letter was a distinct sound.

“Aron, there is a difference between the sounds of the p in ‘pool’ and the p in apple. Notice the difference in air expelled when you say it. Poooool. APPPle. Pool. Apple. That’s aspiration.”

“First ‘grapheme’ and now ‘aspiration’ are you sure you’re not making things up?”

“No, Aron,” Twilight said patiently.

“Do all foals learn this stuff?”

“No, actually.”

“Then why am I learning it?” I asked, annoyed.

“Well, you want to be learn to write soon, right?”

I nodded.

“To do that I am trying to teach you like an adult instead of a foal. I’m presenting it at the conceptual level, so that you can assimilate it faster. Learning it the natural way takes years of exposure..”

“I understand,” I sighed, growing impatient with my lack of progress.

“There’s no reason you can’t learn the natural way too. Just pay attention to how things are spelled in your textbooks. You may not think so, but you have learned a lot! You can already read a little!” She was beaming.

“But I’m so slow…”

She shook her head. “That doesn’t matter the only way to get better is by practicing. That goes for reading and spelling.”

To my relief she closed the instructional book in between us. “That’s enough for now. You’re a really good student. I’d love to keep teaching you myself, but I don’t have the time.”

Was that it? Was I on my own?

“Then how will I—”

“Don’t worry! Star Chart volunteered to keep tutoring you.”

“Hi,” Star said, startling me as she suddenly reappeared.

Stop doing that! I thought. It makes me look bad.

“Thank you, Princess Twilight,” I said, bowing my head. Despite my frustration, I was genuinely grateful for her taking the time to tutor me.

“No need, Aron. I enjoyed teaching you. Just remember: you already know how to read. You’re just learning another script. That will make things a lot easier for you; you aren’t starting from scratch.”

“I suppose… but I will probably suck at spelling for a while,” I lamented.

“Between you and me, there are some really smart ponies that have trouble with it as well. Our vowel system is admittedly complicated. How many vowels does your language conceptualize, Aron?”

“Five.”

“Really? Just five? How do you distinguish between open and closed and long and short vowels?”

“We don’t, not in writing at least.”

“Interesting...”

Leaving her to her thoughts, I turned to leave with Star.

“Oh, Aron, one more thing!” she called after us.

I turned back to face her and saw that her expression had relaxed quite a bit.

“Next Monday is Father’s Day, as I’m sure you know.”

“Princess Celestia did mention it. Is it a big deal?”

“Yes, it’s a national holiday! While nopony doubts how important mothers are, we strive to remember that nopony would be around without a dad as well. That’s why we take a day to spend with our fathers. Anyway, I’ll be in Canterlot for Father’s Day, and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”

I thought about it briefly. Considering that the alternative was hitting the books, I quickly assented.

“Great! See you then!”

Strangely, as I walked down the stairs, I felt a pang of sympathy for the Citrus siblings.

Poor foals, do they even have a dad?

I shook my head. Why was I thinking such things?

“Aron?” Star asked.

“Uhh… yeah?”

“What are your plans now?”

“You’re not going to make me go to bed?” I asked facetiously.

“Not for another hour,” Star answered apologetically.

I was somewhat disappointed. Being forced to go to bed would excuse me from having to find something else to do in magical pony land.

“Thanks for not treating me like a child,” I answered, pushing open the door to my room. Like many in the palace, it had no lock. I supposed this was a testament to the ponies’ trusting nature. This gave me an excuse to leave it slightly ajar for ease of access; it was awkward having to stand on my hind legs to reach the doorknob.

I trotted in and was greeted by the sight of a danish on a plate centered on my bed. A note was accompanying it. I tried sounding it out.

“Neighs tray?”

Stumped, I was relieved when Star took the note to read it to me.

“Nice try. You won’t get out of eating your sugar that easily, Aron. Star will make sure you eat it this time.” Star put the note down and looked at me with a halfhearted smirk. “Looks like you thanked me too soon.”

I looked down. “Ponyfeathers…”

I had hoped that the distraction of Discord would allow them to believe I had partaken in the sweets. As soon as the barrier was down, I had rubbed some crumbs on my plate, hoping it would fool them.

Sighing, I looked up at Star and nodded. “I had to make some attempt to go down fighting. I’m not going to accept every pony thing lying down. But I know when I’m beaten. I’ll eat it.”

The pastry was cold, mushy, overly sweet and the slightest bit rich. All in all, it wasn’t too bad. Swallowing, I remembered Star had asked me a question earlier.

“You still won’t allow me to train?”

“Correct,” Star answered as expected.

I stood still pondering for a moment, though only one option stood out as productive.

“In that case, I think I want to practice writing more.”

Star smiled at me warmly. “You sure are a diligent col—sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “At least you hesitate to treat me like a colt.”

Star drooped her ears in guilt. “I have to admit it’s hard when you look like that. I have to fight off my motherly instincts to not hug and coddle you a lot of the time. I’m sure it’s the same with the princesses, despite their best intentions.”

“Your motherly instincts? You don’t strike me as the type.”

The mare took slight offense at that. “Hey, now just because I’m committed to the royal guard doesn’t mean I don’t want a foal or two of my own someday. Just… dating is… hard.” Despite her dark colors the mare blushed through her fur. “Anyway, I can help if you want.”

I was about to shake my head, but I remembered I really did need all the help I could get. “I’ll let you know when I need help, okay?”

She nodded.

I jumped up to the desk that had recently been installed in my room. It was foal-sized, which meant it was about half as tall as Star Chart. I grabbed a quill pen out of the inkpot with my mouth. Surprisingly it didn’t drip.

As if reading my mind, Star answered, “No, you don’t need ink. It’s a simple magic spell to store the ink inside.”

Testing it out, I wrote what I could remember of their alphabet. I reached up to the eighth letter before stopping. I was debating whether to ask for help or not, but Star chimed in before I could decide.

“Eight hooves on two unicorns,” Star hinted.

“What does that—oh!” I scribbled the letter down as best I could. It had four lines at the bottom, circle at the center and two tips at the top. “How’d you come up with that?”

“I didn’t,” Star explained. “It’s part of a set of mnemonics I learned to help remember which letter comes corresponds to which number of the alphabet. I could teach it you if you want?”

I nodded, interested. “Maybe later when I’m more familiar with your letters.”

“Of course,” Star said, “the easiest way to remember all the letters in order is the alphabet song. I know you don’t like singing, but I’m still surprised Twilight didn’t teach it to you…”

“No thank you,” I said, blanching.

“Okay, but it’s very useful. Almost everypony uses this song when they’re stumped by the alphabet. It’ll look strange if you don’t know it.”
“What is it with you ponies and singing?”

She giggled.

“Thank you for appreciating that that was rhetorical.” I didn’t even want to imagine Twilight’s comprehensive answer on the subject.

I turned back to the page of my shoddy work. It wasn’t very encouraging to see how much I was struggling, so uncharacteristically, I was tempted to procrastinate, and I voiced a curious thought that popped into my head.

“Can you pegasi use your own feathers are quills?” I asked.

“Well, yes,” Star explained. “Back in school some of my classmates would pluck their own feathers to use when they forgot a quill; however, it’s considered unsanitary and bad manners in general.”

I wanted to retort that it was strange to hear about sanitation from a species that often used their mouths to grab things, but I didn’t want to remind myself how much I had done so myself.

I repeated the first eight letters of their alphabet in a vertical line beneath my first attempts of each. I could hardly keep my head still enough to not smear the ink, and my frustration made this an increasingly difficult task. Unprompted, Star walked to my side and put her hoof on the quill. She slowly guided me through the curvature of each letter three times then let me try again. I repeated each letter three more times and noted my mouthwriting had improved. I let her guide me again, and I improved incrementally. Still, at the end of the session, I was nowhere near as good on my own.

Finally, when I was yawning between every letter, I decided enough was enough. Refusing to let Star invoke bedtime, I announced I would go to bed on my own.

“Aron, wait...” Star said shyly.

“What is it?” I asked, making it up on my bed with a running jump. Being foal-sized, it was a skill I had to develop to make use of most furniture.

“Do you want to read a bedtime story?”

I glared at her in disbelief.

“I’m serious!” Star protested. “It will be good reading practice for you, and for me, it’ll help me practice for when I’m a mother.”

The idea didn’t sit well with me, but I assented, refusing to back down from a challenge.

Not needing to be told twice, the pony grabbed a picture book off the shelf and jumped up on the bed with me. She curled her body around mine and opened the book in front of my face. I felt trepidation as my personal space was constricted, but physically it was undeniably warm. Comfort and discomfort clashed in one dissonant sensation. Ultimately, the former vanquished the latter as I came to accept Star’s maternal gesture. After all, Celestia would likely nag if I didn’t meet my hug quota.

Turning my attention to the book, there was a picture of a brown puppy curled up defensively as a group of puppies played around him.

I sounded out the title: The Shy Puppy. I was tempted to complain about the juvenile subject matter, but it was probably at my reading level. It was better to see it as motivation to improve than to dwell on imagined condescension.

I slowly read through the first page. Although it was only a few sentences, I simply couldn’t get through it. I kept nodding off. Star Chart’s fur was so warm and her rhythmic breathing was so… relaxing…

Once there was a shy puppy.

I looked around and found myself at an empty Canterlot First. Confused, I looked down and was greeted by a set of little brown paws. Mentally checking myself, I noticed my snout was more extruded, my teeth were quite a bit sharper, and I had no mane to speak of.

Great! I’m a dog now. Makes about as much sense as anything else in this world.

At recess the other puppies played together.

Suddenly the school grounds filled with playing puppies. They were of varying colors, which were all strangely familiar to me.

But the shy puppy was always by himself.

I looked around, confused.

Where’s that disembodied voice coming from?

I looked to my feet and noticed something strange. In front of me was some kind of script. It was impossible to read, but I somehow knew what it said, and I read it out loud:

“I wish I had some friends,”

the shy puppy said.

“Of course I said that! Who are you talking to anyway?”

The voice ignored me.

One day, one of the fillies invited him to play.

“Hey, do you want to play hide n’ seek with us?”

said the yellow puppy.

The shy puppy was happy, but all he could say was

“No…”

I was quivering.

Suddenly the scene shifted. I was in the royal palace in the secret dining room Celestia and Luna had first hosted me in. A massive German Shepherd and an only slightly smaller Siberian Huskie were sitting side by side. I was suddenly sobbing uncontrollably.

At home, the shy puppy asked his moms for help.

It seemed once more I had already decided what to say: “Mamas, I’m sad. I want to make friends, but I can’t. I want to play with the other puppies, but I’m scared,”

said the shy puppy.

Unsurprisingly the German Shepherd spoke in Celestia’s voice: “It’s okay, my little puppy. Everypuppy is shy sometimes. Next time you are feeling shy, listen to your heart. Do what you would want to do if you weren’t feeling shy,”

said his mother.

Just as quickly the scene shifted back to the schoolyard. I immediately noticed the yellow puppy running around with a bronze and a light blue puppy.

The next day, the shy puppy was alone at recess. He wanted to play with the other puppies, but he was afraid.

But the shy puppy remembered his mother’s advice. He listened to his heart. He wanted to play with them.

I want to play with them, I thought.

Wait a second! No I don’t. I’m not even supposed to be a puppy—or a pony for that matter! Why would I want to play children’s games?

“Do you mind if I play with you?” The shy puppy asked.

“Sure!”

said the yellow puppy.

“Wait! I didn’t say that!” I objected. I pointed at the sky. “He said that, not me!”

The yellow puppy cocked her little head in confusion.

“Fine! We didn’t want to play with you anyway,” the bronze puppy said.

“Why don’t you hang out with Beakington the Nerd?” the blue puppy said, pointing to a little green woodpecker I hadn’t noticed previously.

Umm…. and they lived happily ever after. The end.

The school grounds and the puppies evaporated, leaving me alone in the void. Checking myself, I noticed I was no longer a puppy, but a filly. I had a cherry-red mane with magenta fur, and I was wearing a royal-purple, bejeweled dress. When the world reappeared I found myself atop a grassy hilltop knoll. There was a light breeze blowing, rustling my wings. At once I felt content and very much alive.

Looking down below, I saw thousands of ponies gathered around a stage area. Princesses Celestia, Luna, Cadance, Philomena and Twilight were all on a podium, waving to their admirers.

“They’re waiting for you, you know.”

I turned at the narrator’s voice and was met with a familiar brown stallion. He was dressed in a royal guard’s uniform, but it was unmistakably the same stallion as before. “Don’t keep them waiting, Princess.”

My heart was beating. All these ponies were out here waiting for me. But I shouldn’t be nervous. All I had to do was fly over them and land. Nopony was expecting a filly as young as myself to do anything too fancy. Besides, flying was something I was used to, right?

I shook my head to the point of dizziness.

“No, this is a dream. I won’t be caught up in dream logic again.” I focused intensely on the brown stallion. “What I want to know is who you are.”

“Oh me?” The stallion said. “I’m nopony interesting. In dreams you can do anything you want; you need only imagine it. Surely there’s something you want to try? You won’t be able to fly for some time. Why not embrace the opportunity to try it out?”

I paused briefly. Flight had always fascinated me on some level. I imagined every child thought about it at some point. I looked down at my golden horseshoe-covered hooves and furrowed my brow. Taking in the reminder of princesshood I snapped back to attention.

“No, I won’t be distracted,” I said, hostile. “Who are you and what are you doing meddling in my dreams?”

“All right. All right,” the stallion said placatingly. “Let’s just say I’m someone who wants you to thrive in Equestria.”

“Not good enough,” I said curtly, stomping a hoof. “You got a name?”

“I can’t remember.”

“How convenient,” I said, with heavy sarcasm.

The stallion looked suddenly sheepish and he turned his head away until he thought of an answer.

“I realize this doesn’t paint me in the best light, but I truly don’t know. Do I even exist? Am I just part of your imagination? Have I lost all sense of myself while wandering the dreams of others I really don’t know. What I do know is that it’s my job to help accustom you to Equestria.”

I scowled. “You mean brainwashing me into being a happy pony.”

The stranger waved his hooves in front of him in protest. “No, nothing of the sort. I only seek to help by preparing you for what’s to come.” He quickly glanced around, nervous. “That’s strange, I’d have expected her to have shown up by now.”

“Who? Luna?” I smirked in realization. “If you’re not here to mess with my head, then why are you so scared of Luna?”

While it still unnerved me that the younger princess could peer into my dreams, I hoped she would show herself soon to rid me of this creep.

“Read any story at all and you will see why,” the stallion responded. “When have well-intentioned mysterious strangers ever been received well!?”

“What makes you any different?” I asked, still suspicious
.
He shook his head quizzically. “Because my intentions are good… I think.”

“You think?”

“I mean, I want everypony to be happy. Just look at them.” He pointed to the crowd. “Look at how excited they are for the new princess!”

I scanned the crowd. It was true they were extremely excited—awestruck even.

“You’re all about the good of the whole aren’t you?” he asked.

“I… I don’t know..”

He had a point, but surely I couldn’t be a princess.

“What makes me worthy to lead them?”

He smiled endearingly. “If that’s your only concern, you will find your answer in time. Farewell.”

As he turned to light and sped away, I wanted to shout after him all my other many objections to being princess. But all I could do was stare at the crowd, torn between worlds.

Author's Note

Edit:

I added clarification to this chapter. Please note that Discord's modification of mathematics was during his reign >1000 years ago.

Chapter 15

I sat, stubby legs dangling, in a dark blue chair. Luna’s office was fairly spartan, with just enough decor to make its owner’s identity unmistakable. I kicked my hind legs back-and-forth like a metronome, already bored.

“Are you sure you should be keeping me this long?” I asked, eyes glazed. “I mean school starts in twenty minutes.” Not that I was eager to go to school, but punctuality was one virtue this saccharine land permitted me to keep.

“It is no matter,” Luna said serenely. “If needed, I can fly you.”

I shivered. “Don’t I get a say in this? I mean, flying with no restraints doesn’t sound like something I should think to acquiesce quietly to.”

“Are you afraid?” Luna asked playfully as she flipped through a thick, musty spellbook.

“No,” I denied vehemently. “Fear is something completely irrational that kills the mind’s rationality. What I have is an empirically founded concern of falling from a height that no flying horse should be able to reach but for this world’s utter disregard for aerodynamics.”

“It’s okay to be afraid,” Luna said, not looking up from her book.

Remembering, how “cute” my natural expressions were, I threw my face into an exaggerated facade of outrage and shouted, “I am not afraid!”

Luna looked up and smiled. “I was only teasing. Are such idle jests unknown to your people?”

Embarrassed, I let myself sink further into the cushy chair. “It’s not that,” I said, defending myself. “You ponies are already confusing enough to me that when you throw sarcasm or humor on top of it, I quickly get overwhelmed.”

“My apologies,” Luna said gracefully. “I’ll have to keep that in mind. However, if flight is a concern of yours, you need only give it a try to see there’s no need to fret. Foals of pegasus ponies find flight very soothing. Why it’s not unusual for parents to gently glide their young to sleep.”

I had multiple objections to that, but I settled on just one: “But I’m a unicorn right now. That shouldn’t apply to me.”

Luna smiled. “It applies to all foals actually. Pegasi ponies can have unicorns as offspring just as they themselves can be born of any tribe.”

The Lunar Princess was still only giving me about a third of her attention, so it behooved me to ask, “I’m not disturbing you am I?”

“Nay,” she answered. “I think I’ve nearly found my answer.”

I straightened up in my chair. “Really? So do you think you can banish that blasted stallion from my dreams?”

Luna put a hoof to her chin and sighed. “It is a complicated matter. There is a highly diverse bestiary of creatures that walk the realm of the dreams. As only I can regularly traverse the dreams of others, they can be difficult to study. In some of the rarer cases, wanting firsthand experience, I must turn to the centuries of observation by astute dreamers. At any rate, the short answer is that only you can cause this unknown creature to dissipate?”

“Why’s that?” I blurted out.

“Keep in mind, child, barring further research, I am confined to the realm of conjecture, and here I reason by analogy. Based on the wisps of dream essence I have collected, the creature it resembles most is that of the tantabus.” Luna paused as if expecting some sort of reaction from me.

“Uh-huh, go on.”

“The tantabus is a parasitic creatures that feeds off the dreamer. It revels in fear, anxiety, and—and… remorse. If left unchecked it can escape into the real world and make it into its own paradise—a waking nightmare.”

“So that monster is a parasite then? Darn! I knew I should have destroyed him when I had the chance!.”

“Perhaps that was for the best,” Luna said. “We shouldn’t be too strongly prejudiced against it, for its resemblance to the wicked tantabus is less than four parts in ten. The remaining six parts could give it an entirely different character.”

I scowled, annoyed at the inconclusiveness of this inquiry. “Then why do you think only I can banish it?”

Luna closed her book, focusing all her attention on me. “I—I’m not worthy to speak on this matter.”

The change in the atmosphere chilled me. I could do nothing but listen to her, as if receiving a confession. “Such creatures are created out of strong emotions. They exist as long as their creator gives them purpose.” Her eyes started tearing up. “Until the lesson they deign to teach is learned, they will persist.”

Her tears unnerved me. While I had become gradually accustomed to nearly every other person being a princess around here, Luna’s regal mask crumbling left me at a crossroads between etiquette and decency. I wanted to comfort her, but was it within my station to do so?

“You’re saying, I created this annoying brown stallion?”

Luna nodded, wiping the tears out of her eyes. “I think so.” She checked the clock. “It is nearly the hour; come, I will take you.”

“But…”

“I’m sure you have many questions--far more than I can answer right now. We can only hope they will resolve themselves in time.”

With a glow of her horn, Luna transformed herself into a petite orange pegasus mare. Her mane and tail were a tricolor, tropical mix of red, yellow and lime green. She picked me up by the neck and we flew out the room’s only window.

I hated to admit it, but Luna was absolutely right. The flight was soothing. Perhaps if I was facing less trying matters, my worries would have melted away. As it stood, however, I occupied myself pondering the issue of the brown stallion.

Why didn’t I attack him? He’s messing with my dreams after all! He has no right to do that.

Then again, so does Luna, I countered.

At least she doesn’t abuse her power to try and make me into a smiling, happy filly. This clown thinks I want to wear a crown and frilly dress and call myself a pretty pony princess. So why didn’t I slug him?

I was stumped by this point for a long time, eventually stumbling onto some semblance of an answer.

The moment wasn’t right. Something about that scene made me loath to destroy it, but what could it be? We were alone on the hill. I was in a dress...perhaps I felt psychologically weaker because he had already had that power over me. Did he have actual power over me? Was he affecting my thoughts?

I retraced my thoughts to earlier that night. Something about the moment wasn’t right? What could it be.

With that “Luna” alighted and released me from her mouth. This gave rise to another question I wanted answered.

“Celestia grabbed me by the neck too. Is that a custom?”

Luna had a puzzled look. “Where else would I grab you? The neck has the strongest bones in the body, so it can support your full weight. That’s rudimentary foal care.”

“I see…”

At least that makes sense. I should have known horses have stronger necks.

“Anyway, have a good day, “River,” Luna said with a smile before taking off.

On my second day of school, I was fortunately much less a novelty. Some fillies and colts made a point of greeting me as I entered the noisy classroom, though, and I returned their greetings nonchalantly. I took to my usual desk, and when I sat down Beakington III made a point of huffing and looking away before sneaking a glance at my reaction. If he expected this to somehow offend me, he was mistaken, it had the opposite effect. The less time I spent socializing with my non-peers the better.

I arrived only slightly earlier than the teacher, which meant much less waiting before the lesson began in earnest.Fizzle started with a review of the basic primer on algebra. She made a few comments on its Saddle Arabian origin, which I found curious. To us, algebra was so old an art, that nobody had any idea as to its origin. Surely it must have been an obvious innovation. As I knew the basics, I instead focused the bulk of my attention on their strange number system.

She then starting asking questions to her students, writing on the board. With low numbers, I was able to follow along effortlessly as the answers were identical. A few times, though, I had to try and convert the numbers in my head.

“Jill,” the teacher called, “can you solve this: X + 9 = 12?”

The question was pronounced as X + 9 = 25, so I was able to solve it effortlessly. For practice, though I counted ahead to make the conversion. Twenty-three…. Twenty-four…. Twenty-five.

“Is it…. 1B?” Iron Jill asked, tentatively.

Fizzle shook her head in understanding. No, but you have the right idea. Remember: the nine is the bad guy. What do you do to scare the nine away?”

“Bring out it’s evil twin,” Iron Jill recited.

“And the opposite of plus nine is?”

“Minus nine”

“Good! Now make sure you do that to both sides. Now what do you come up with?”

Jill scribbled the math down on her notepad and after a few long seconds she answered, “X equals sixteen.”

“Very good!”

So I wouldn’t be entirely idle, I made a point to perform the problem in its slightly more difficult written form, coming up with X=G. Peering at Beakington’s paper, I was relieved to say I was right.

I can do this. I just have to think about it for a moment.

It was with pride that I was able to instantly answer when it was my turn to be called upon. It was an oral answer and nothing more than addition and subtraction, but it soured Annuity’s predatory sneer.

After math, we moved onto government. I had the good fortune—or perhaps the help of Fizzle’s sympathy— to avoid being called upon to read out loud. Nevertheless I followed along the best I could, trying to associate the sounds I heard to the letters on the page. I had to say, whatever Twilight did with her teaching really helped, as I was able to start predicting some of the sounds before long. Granted, it was somewhat of a strain to keep up, and some of the distinctions in pronunciation still threw me for a loop, but I soon realized something good. My spelling might be inept for a while, but I already intuitively made the phoneme distinctions. This meant that I wouldn’t sound like a complete dolt when I eventually would have to read out loud.

Unfortunately, my concentration on following along meant that quite a bit of the content was lost in translation. From what I could gather, though, the ponies were organized into four branches of government. There were activists who proposed ideas for legislation, a House of Ponies in Canterlot that wrote the specifics of the law, militia forces to protect the law, and judges who were in charge of sentencing rulebreakers. I wasn’t sure where their plurality of monarchs fit in, but based on what I had seen it would appear to be the final branch. Then again, the royal guard reported to them as well…

“The four hooves of government ensure that everypony is involved in the running of society and that everypony’s voice can be heard.”

“Very good, Bubble,” Fizzle said “Now let’s move onto our literature reading for today!”

This got nearly as jovial of a reception music class had gotten, most notably from the minotaur girl.

Starting from the front row, paperback books were passed towards the back. After playing my part in the relay, I examined the book in my hooves.

It was titled The Making of a Queen and the cover portrayed a silver-furred minotaur covered from horn to hoof in fine silks and gorgeous jewelry. However, she had a bittersweet expression on her face.

Celestia better not be trying to send me a message with this. I’m not going to be her royal whelp.

Once more, Fizzle asked for volunteers and several hands shot up. This time she decided to be unkind and picked on Beakington, who was trying his best to hide under his desk. Clearing his throat, the griffin chick read aloud:

Xel Nar Kai Nhing pushed herself out of bed. Her enhanced strength made this an easy feat, but she still nearly stumbled for reliance on extra arms that were no longer there. It had been months since she had been in Equestria now, and her body had taken on an entirely new shape. Where her exoskeleton once ensconced her, there was now nothing but fur. Her six powerful forearms were not reduced to a mere third of what she once had. Where her lower membrane had once made due with pseudopods, she now had a pair of clumsy hooves instead. These changes brought with them a whole host of challenges.

For one, she now had to be selective in choosing what to carry. Previously, she could pick something up and have enough extra arms that she would sometimes even forget what she was carrying. Now, however, she had to constantly decide what to carry, how to balance it and when to put it down. Having tangible legs was nothing but trouble as well: whenever she habitually tried to glide along the ground, she would nearly always stumble. And the taste! After going her entire life tasting the ground she walked on, this sense was now limited exclusively to feeding purposes.

Nobody understood what a loss this was to her. Princess Celestia didn’t get it, Roccour just said some platitudes, Gildeus assured her it was better this way, and Quarrel just laughed at her. At this remembered indignance she righted herself and through sheer willpower traversed the room to the mirror. Combing her bangs out of the way, she fixated on her snout. This was the one part of her anatomy that largely went unchanged.

And yet, somehow, she… she was beautiful. King Gildeus certainly had thought so. Blushing, she turned her back on the mirror.

That can’t be! She thought to herself. I don’t even have an external mucus membrane.

“Very good, Beakington,” Fizzle praised. “That finishes the chapter, and that means…”

The class groaned.

I scowled myself. I was hoping for some more clues. After all, it appeared the strange being in the book was the minotaur queen Celestia had mentioned. Anything pertaining to her could be a valuable clue for my situation.

“Yes, it’s time for a review assignment!” Fizzle announced, oblivious to the class’s disappointment.

From here we split into groups of three, and each group was given a question to answer. I ended up by default with the pair of Iron Jill and a blue and white unicorn colt named Squirt.

After the other two had taken a look, they passed the paper to me.

How does Xelning feel about her new body and why. Explain your answer using specific evidence from the text.

“I give up,” said Squirt quickly. “I don’t get it at all. She should be happy not to be a slug creature anymore, but she seems upset.”

“Iron Jill agrees. She turned into a beautiful queen. Why is she sad?”

“See?” Squirt said. “It makes no sense. Even the book’s number one fan doesn’t know. And no offense, but you’re new and probably don’t have anything.”

I scowled at him.

He threw his hooves up on the desk and kicked his rear hooves out. “Nothing to do about it; we just got the brain buster.”

I huffed. This colt’s attitude was really getting to me. I didn’t have any stock in this farce of having me go through school, but I wasn’t about to give up that easily.

“Can you tell me about what happened in the rest of the chapter?” I asked patiently.

“No point. It’s way too long,” Squirt say, not even looking at me.

“Sure!” Jill shouted. “There was a festival, and King Gildeus asked Xelning to dance! But then the king’s nasty brother Roccour tripped her, and she was really embarrassed.”

“Yeah,” Squirt said, still looking away. “The whole chapter is basically like that. Things go wrong, she cries about her new body and so on and so on. There was this one part where she spat on her food as a sign of respect and everyone went crazy; it’s a weird book.”

“Don’t forget that Xelning totally has a secret crush on Gildeus!” Jill said giddily.

“Oh, yes, how could I forget,” Squirt gagged.

“Wait, I think we’ve got something here. Squirt, can you tell me some of the things that go wrong?”

“Sure, I guess…”

“Group 1, can you explain to us how Xel Nar Kai Nhing feels about her new body.”

I stepped up to speak and Ms. Fizzle smiled in approval. “Yes, River?”

“Xelning is frustrated with the differences between her old body and her new body. There are advantages and disadvantages to the change. On one hand, she can’t hold as many things at once and she can no longer see behind herself and her sense of taste, which she had relied on is much weakened. On the other hand, the king whom she secretly loves dotes on her and this brings her happiness. There are also the cultural differences, which stress her as shown by the spitting incident. Most of all, she is torn away from that which she had known her entire life---her very body. She is uneasy about this and very anxious. At the same time, she is afraid of coming to like her new form and losing herself in the process.”

“Very good, River. Great teamwork!”

I genuinely smiled at this. It was a small accomplishment of sorts.

It was a bright and sunny day as we exited the classroom for recess. The foals occupied themselves with their usual activities while I, annoyed by the weird reactions I’d gotten from running, decided to just wander aimlessly around the playground.

“My dad and I are going camping together,” Annuity boasted to a small crowd. “He bought one of those expansion tents that are bigger on the inside than the outside. It looks like a normal tent, but once you get in, it’s like another house. It’s got a kitchen, a large tea room, and it’s even got an extra large bedroom just for me on the second floor. We’re going to the Candy Cane Forest to pick out a sprout for Hearth’s Warming Eve!”

The Citrus siblings looked at one another and frowned. Annuity, seeing this pounced, asking, “What about you two?”

“Well…” Blueberry stammered.

“Our dad can’t make it this year…” Raspberry said, finishing the thought.

“I knew it!” Annuity gloated. “Your dad has probably completely forgotten about you and moved on!”

“That’s not true!” Blueberry protested, rearing his hind legs as if ready to pounce on the mean filly.

“He’s just busy,” Raspberry supplied, not particularly believing her own excuse.

“As if!” Annuity mocked. “Face it: he doesn’t care about you two half-foals at all!”

Zephyr Zap frowned and took a step in. “I don’t know, Annuity, my real dad has missed the past three Father’s Days too, and I still really like him. And I know he loves me.”

Annuity stopped to ponder for a second. “Well at least you have a herd dad,” she said backpedaling. “He knows he doesn’t need to replace your herd dad. These half-foals just have two moms, probably because no stallion wants to adopt their loser kids.”

“Why… YOU!!!!”

Raspberry tried her best to hold back her brother, but her grip quickly faltered and her brother ran full steam ahead at Annuity. However, one of her posse, an earth filly named Granite interposed herself and took the charge before pinning Blueberry to the ground.

“What’s all this!” Ms. Fizzle asked, furious as she cantered towards the scene.

“It’s not his fault, Ms. Fizzle,” Raspberry pleaded. “Annuity was making fun of our family.

Surprisingly, the teacher was skeptical. “Annuity is this true?”

The guilty filly shook her head in disbelief at the accusation. “They’re completely misunderstanding. I only said that some stallions don’t like mares with children—like Granite’s dad for instance. I wasn’t insulting their moms in particular.” With a sour-sweet note she added, “I’m sure they love each other very much.”

“Liar!” Blueberry shouted.

“Honest!” Annuity pleaded with puppy dog eyes.

Fizzle took a moment to consider before reprimanding Blueberry, “You should think more carefully about what other ponies are saying. Sometimes ponies don’t say what they mean, or what you think they might mean. Annuity’s a sweet filly; you should give her the benefit of the doubt.”

Blueberry looked heartbroken as he nodded. His sister was beside him rubbing his back.

As the teacher trotted away, a heavy silence fell on the playground. It didn’t last for long, however, as Zephyr Zap took notice of me.

“Hey, River! Good job on the reading questions. It’s cool that you were able to use such teamwork. And you haven’t even been here that long!”

“Uhhh… thanks?” I replied. What I had done was nothing special at all--Jill and Squirt had different strengths and weaknesses with the material, and I had happened to have some firsthand experience.

“No, it was great!” Zap insisted.

I didn’t get much of a chance to argue, though, as Annuity’s group turned to leave the wounded siblings. Zap looked back hesitantly before taking wing and following the pack.

The schoolday was shortened due to the holiday, which meant that recess was optional. Even better, that meant no music class. I traveled the short distance to my usual meeting place, and to my surprise Twilight and Spike were waiting for me instead of Star Chart.

“Hello, Aron,” she greeted. “Surprisingly, I don’t think you’ve met Spike yet. Spike this is Aron, and Aron, this is Spike.”

We had met once before, though not in this form, so I declined to correct her on that technicality. Spike, for some reason was enthused.

“Hi, Aron, I heard a lot about you. They say you’re from another world. That’s really cool. It’s like something out of a comic book.”

“Yeah… nice to meet you,” I replied.

“Is it true that you are going to turn into a filly, though?”

‘Spike!” Twilight rebuked. “I’m sorry, Aron, he was really looking forward to making friends with a colt his own age, and that disappointed him.”

“Imagine how I feel,” I sighed.

“Oh well, you’re a colt now aren’t you? That means we can have some quality guy time with Shining.”

Shining? Where had I heard that name before?

“So, Aron” Spike asked, “What are some of your favorite things to do?”

What’s with this question? I seem to get it a lot.

“I don’t know. I’ve never had time for fun before. Everything was to better myself for the cause. Any less, and I would let my people down.”

“Wow, that sounds like a real bummer. Me, I like comic books most of all. I’ve got a big collection. I also like to watch hoofball when it comes around to Ponyville. But I guess what I like most of all is being Twilight’s number-one assistant. So I guess I’m kind of like you in a way, huh?”

I nodded in response. I didn’t have much to say on the subject of similarity between the two of us. I couldn’t see it at all. This young dragon seemed like a true child, whereas I was not.

“Aron, I’ve been wondering, before the war what sorts of traditions did your people partake in? Surely if you are warlike now out of necessity, before the conflict you must have been different. I guess what I’m digging for is any sort of cultural expression?” Twilight seemed almost shy in asking.

“Before the war, we were slaves. We weren’t allowed much in the form of expression and I suppose that shaped us. In the time in between then and now our driving force was progress; everything was for the sake of reclaiming our place among the stars. We were an industrious people like that.”

“Were.” I sunk at the implication of that. We were truly a piece of history now.

“There has to be something,” Twilight insisted. “No culture is without its own form of expression. Even lack of expression has to reveal something hidden underneath—the thoughts, the vitality of the ponies underneath..”

I thought about it for some time as we walked. I knew not our destination, but apparently Twilight was taking me on a trip, so I assumed we were going to a transportation depot. I didn’t like Twilight’s pushiness, but I equally despised the idea that we had no culture.

I fell behind them somewhat when I came to a realization. “Actually,” I started, “we played some sorts of games of the mind.”

“Games!?” Twilight exclaimed, retracing her steps back towards me. “What kinds of games?”

“Is it something we can play together?” Spike asked.

I chose to answer Twilight. “Nothing special really. Mainly games of chance and skill. When we were enslaved we used to gamble for anything and everything of value we were allowed to have. Though gambling has been cracked down on, the games themselves continue.” I could have elaborated further, but I cut myself off. “It’s a shameful part of our history really. We don’t like to speak of it,” I fibbed. Truthfully, I didn’t want to explain to Twilight the rules of every game I could think of, much less play them.

“I understand,” Twilight said, disappointed. “If there’s anything else you can share, I would love to hear it.”

Still challenged to defend the worth of my civilization, I provided, “Well there’s drinking songs.”

“Aha! So you do sing!” Twilight teased. “I don’t suppose you’d sing them for me.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know them well.” Then I smirked. “But get me a drink or two and I might remember a couple verses.”

Twilight laughed and stroked me gently with one of her wings. “That’s okay, I can think of some other ways of getting the music out of you.”

I was simultaneously soothed by her gesture and tormented by her phantom threat.

Before I could begin to imagine what this entailed, Twilight declared, “We’re here!”

We stood in front of a homely two-story house. It seemed to be made from some sort of glittering brick; perhaps it was magical in nature. The front lawn was impeccably well-kept and flower beds framed the cobblestone path to the house. I could smell the sweet fragrance wafting all the way to the street. Most interesting about the house, though, were its two tower-like pillars containing what appeared to be bedrooms.

“This is your parents’ house?” I asked.

“Yes,” Twilight replied, magically opening the iron gate. “Come on in.”

Spike looked ecstatic to have arrived.

She stepped inside, while I stood still for a moment, admiring the architecture.

“Is something the matter, Aron?” Twilight asked.

“No, nothing… I just didn’t think your parents would live in Canterlot too. Kind of a strange assumption since you said you were from here, but I thought you were from Ponyville.”

“Oh,” Twilight giggled. “I moved to Ponyville to study friendship at the behest of Princess Celestia. Once I made my friends I never really wanted to leave.”

“I see…”

“Would you two hurry up!” Spike implored. “I can’t wait to try some of Mama’s hoofpicked gemstones!”

Following Spike, who was already at the door, knocking, we made it to the doorway when it opened. A refined-looking unicorn couple was standing in the doorway. The stallion was short and surprisingly bulky for a unicorn. He wore spectacles and had a coiffured dark blue mane contrasted with a light blue coat. The mare was lanky and gray with a mane similar to her daughter’s, but with white streaks through the purple.

“Mama, I’m home!” Spike announced, jumping into the mare’s outstretched forelegs. She petted his head and said sweetly, “Spike, how have you been? You’ve grown so much since I last saw you.”

Really? Because he still looks pretty small to me.

“Mom, Dad,” I’m home, Twilight announced sedately.

“Welcome home, Twilight,” the stallion spoke in a wispy voice. “Princess or no, there will always be a home here for you.”

“You always say that,” Twilight said, blushing.

“Maybe if you’d come home more often, we wouldn’t have to remind you, dear,” the mare replied without taking her attention off the contented Spike.

“I keep planning on it, but there are so many new projects I’ve stumbled upon—almost more than I can keep track of. I’ve had to buy so many extra rolls of parchment to make checklists for it all.”

Twilight’s parents laughed. “Well we’ve never been given reason to expect anything less of you, honey,” the stallion said.

“Welcome home!” the two said in unison.

“So this is, Aron?” Twilight’s mother, Twilight Velvet, confirmed,

“We’ve heard quite a bit about you,” her father, Night Light, added.

Somewhat uncomfortable with being the focus on their attention, I scanned the room: At my side was a glass side-table framed by aged oak. Bookshelves lined the walls and were filled with colorful tomes. Cushy seating arrangements sufficient for a dozen adult ponies circled a long, slender redwood table at the center of the room. Spike was curled up in a cat bed, munching on gemstones. It seemed an absurd waste to me at first, but I remembered Rarity mentioning something about being able to just find gems in the ground, so I supposed it made some sense.

“Excuse me for this weird question,” Velvet said, “but Twilight said you were a unicorn?”

Taking a moment to comprehend, I then swept aside my bangs to reveal my infant-sized horn.

“Oh dear!” Velvet exclaimed, caught off guard.

“Do you hide it on purpose?” Night Light asked.

“More or less,” I said, “I’ve been warned I might be bullied for it, and besides, Celestia had to seal my magic for my own protection, so I decided to pretend to be an earth pony.”

This made the mare leave her seat and close in on my personal space.

“You poor dear,” she said with a hug as I lamented how used to it I had become. “Well, you don’t have to hide who you are here.”

The stallion put a hoof to chin in thought. “On that subject, do you prefer to go by ‘he’ or ‘she’?”

“I’m sorry?” I said, as Velvet finally let me go.

“Your situation is an unusual one, so I just don’t want to assume anything.”

“He is fine,” I said, confused by the question.

Fortunately, the chiming of a doorbell spared me from the momentary silence.

The married couple stood up to answer the door, while I just took a breath and closed my eyes to rest for a moment. Twilight stroked me with a wing once more, and I found myself mostly appreciative of the gesture.

“There’s my favorite son! How are you?”

“Happy Father’s Day, Dad,” came a familiar masculine voice.

“Hello Cadance!” Velvet said.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I opened my eyes to see Twilight’s parents guiding in a familiar royal couple. This time, they were dressed nicely, but not regally.

“You must be Aron,” Shining Armor said. “It’s been awhile since I last saw you. Was caramel not your color?”

Upon hearing this, his wife took notice of me, and I could see her actively resisting the urge to coo over me. My respect for her grew immensely for her restraint.

It took me half a minute before I finally pieced together what he was talking about. “Oh, that was an illusion,” I explained, “I never had caramel fur in reality.”

It already felt so long ago—the times when I could merely slip off a ring and be normal.

“You’re Twilight’s brother, then?” I asked, making small talk.

“I’m her proud big brother,” Shining declared, hugging his little sister, eliciting a blush from her.

“I didn’t know that. Usually, I’d expect princesses to be sisters rather than sisters-in-law. I mean what are the chances that your daughter becomes a princess and your son marries a princess?”

Night Light chuckled. “You’re pretty, sharp, Aron. I’ve wondered about that quite a bit myself. I suppose we’re just blessed.”

“Say hi, Spike,” Twilight prompted.

Meanwhile, Spike only had eyes for his small pile of gemstones.

“Hi, Spike…” he said with not a hint of sarcasm.

Gradual laughter spread throughout the room, and I found myself obliged to give a chuckle or two myself. I was grateful that this took the attention off me for the moment.

“How’s the weather up in the Crystal Empire?” Velvet asked. “It’s nearly winter already. Are you warm enough up there?”

“Yes, Mom,” Shining supplied with a good-natured chuckle. “We’re working on rebuilding the crystal guard at the moment. It’s been a lot of work.”

“We have the cutest young mare as one of the new pegasus recruits,” Cadance said. “Wallflower is her name. You know her, don’t you, Twilight?”

“Fluttershy’s sister? Yes. How’d you recruit her anyway?”

The royal couple exchanged a fond look of remembrance. “There’s quite a story behind it.”

“And she just apologized for having the highest wing-power rating out of all the applicants! She apologized for embarrassing the others and tried to assure us it was a mistake,” Shining said.

“When we offered her a position, she gave the cutest little squeak. She really wanted it, even though she tried to deny her interest by saying she wanted any job. We couldn’t let her go after that.”

I sipped some more of the delicious hot cocoa and reflected on the story. I had wondered why that mare was qualified to be a soldier, and I had figured the answer would be similar to why Celestia kept Trusty Stead around. Learning that the mare was an excellent flier and athlete but too modest to admit it had come as an amusing shock.

I suppose she reminds me a bit of Diane—much more capable than you’d think.

The thought left me a bit chilled. In spite of myself, I had to wonder how she was doing—her and Will. I shook my head.

No, that’s in the past now, I told myself. Like it or not, these are my people now. It’s either them, or I’m all alone.

Gazing on the warm smiles around the room, for a moment, I thought that might not be too bad.

Then I grew cold again.

If that type of thinking takes hold I’ll be this land’s filly princess in no time.

“How about a game?” Twilight Velvet offered. Assent spread around the room. Even I was curious how their games differed from ours. I already had a taste of their party games thanks to Pinkie, but when the mare brought out the game board, I knew it had to be something different.

Aside from the basic formula of moving a piece around with dice, the game was far different from anything I had ever seen. The addition of magic ensured that nobody knew what crazy thing the cards would spell out. Within three turns, my pony token had made friends with a Walrus, gone scuba-diving to the lost seapony capital and adopted a pet honey badger. The game mainly consisted of these types of developments as dictated by cards and dice. There was an objective of sorts to the game in the form of collecting bits, but by looking around the table it was apparent that it was more about the experience than determining a winner.

I suppose it fits these ponies.

Though I had hoped for something challenging, I had to admit I laughed as hard as anypony when Cadance and Shining Armor ended up married in game followed by Cadance giving birth to sextuplets.

“Perhaps this is a sign of things to come,” Velvet hinted.

Cadance laughed awkwardly. “We’re still thinking about it. Six at one time, though—I can’t imagine it.”

“Be careful, though. That many foals will eat into your bits if you draw the uppity foalsitter card,” Spike warned, sitting behind the biggest pile of bits.

“I’m sure the regents of the Crystal Empire can afford it,” Night Light joked.

“Bits can’t buy you more time,” Cadance replied sagely. “I don’t know how I could give enough love to so many.”

“You can always start a herd,” Velvet added half-jestingly.

‘Stop,” Shining replied. “I’m committed to Cadance. I could never love someone as much as her anyway, so it wouldn’t be fair.”

This earned him a kiss from his wife.

Sure enough, the next card Shining drew earned him a second wife.

“Oh well,” Cadance said. “If love is true enough, it can be shared without limit.”

Shaking his head, Shining added another mare token to his family of eight.

So ponies are sometimes polygamous.

It was something that I had had snippets of evidence for but had never quite confirmed. It was a taboo on my world but one I had never really understood. The only justification I could come up with was to ensure everyone could eventually marry. But…

“There are more mares than stallions, correct?” I asked.

“Oh, I forgot this must be unusual for you,” Twilight responded, happy to explain anything and everything. “Yes, at last count it was about a 58-42 split. Some suspect that it’s converging to 50-50. Anything else you want to know?”

I looked around the table and everyone was smiling at me with understanding.

“No, I get it I mean. I suppose if I’m wondering something it’s how common herding is?”

“It’s an option that’s there for the ponies that want it,” Night Light explained. “It’s not rare, and almost everypony knows a herd.”

Twilight was in full researcher mode now. “Is it different on your homeworld, Aron?”

“Yes, men and women are equally common on Rhod,” I said simply. Admittedly I was slightly put off by the minor bit of culture shock, but I didn’t have any justifiable feelings against this pony custom. “Can we continue the game now?” I asked, picking up the dice.

“Sure,” Twilight said, suppressing her curiosity.

I rolled a five and came to a junction. My choices were either a random event or a standard card space. Since I had been robbed by diamond dogs the last time I had landed on a random space, I opted for the latter and picked up a card.

Your daughter comes to visit for Father’s Day. Take ten bits from the pile.

“That’s strange. Usually the cards make sense in context, but my guy is still a bachelor,” I said. “Do you think there’s a problem with the game, or should I draw again?”

“What do you mean?” Spike asked.

“Oh, I get it!” Twilight said. “Does your culture not have gift foals?”

“Gift foals?”

“Well, Aron,” Cadance explained, “sometimes a mare wants to have foals before she finds a special somepony. So she’ll ask a stallion she knows to be the father of her foals.”

I flinched back. “You mean outside of marriage?!”

Twilight nodded patiently.

“But that’s irresponsible,” I declared. “Leaving the mother to take care of the kid on her own is just…”

Night Light gazed at me, fascinated. He looked as if he was deliberating how best to explain this pony custom. Apparently his curiosity about my alien upbringing rivalled his daughter’s.

“Well, Aron, I actually have a gift daughter who’s Twilight’s older half-sister,” he explained.

I nervously looked to the side. Surely I had offended this pony. Where had my tact gone?

“Sorry,” I murmured, dumbstruck.

“It’s okay,” he said good-naturedly. “I can understand the source of your confusion. The truth is it depends on the pony. Some stallions are very involved in their gift children’s lives, while at other times their mothers prefer to raise them on their own. In either case, though, it’s viewed as helping the mother out.”

“What do you mean,” I asked, still uneasy.

Cadance giggled. “It can be hard for a single mare to attract the perfect stallion. Unless she wants to join a herd, there’s a lot of competition. Most stallions find mares with foals more attractive. If the mare is a good mother, it shows, and the stallion knows she would be a good partner and possible mother for his own foals. Oftentimes, such foals end up attracting an adoptive father. That’s why Father’s Day is so important—celebrating all types of fathers.”

I cocked my head, confused but interested.

Twilight Velvet nodded before adding her two cents. “And for a mare whose special somepony is also a mare,” it’s the only way for them to have foals.”

The stallion then uncharacteristically sighed. “It’s a shame that Dawn Treader can’t be with us to celebrate, though.”

Understanding dawned on me regarding earlier that day.

So that’s what that’s all about.

Something visceral in me still objected to this.

“I understand there are cultural differences I’m not grasping, but isn’t it, you know, strange? I mean, this means you ponies are related to each other in all sorts of bizarre ways.”

Twilight laughed. “I never really thought about it that way, but I guess you’re right. We ponies have all sorts of relatives. However, I like to think this shows how we bond with one another. We’re all related in a philosophical sense, and we accept families of all sorts because in a way, we’re all one giant family.”

I looked across the room. It was filled with smiles. Spike, Twilight, Shining, Cadance, Night Light, Velvet—I felt a warmth coming from all of them. It was such a simple act of playing a board game while sipping hot cocoa, but somehow I felt I had known these ponies (and dragon) my entire life.

I slumped, resting my chin on my fetlocks.

Chapter 17

I struggled against the overwhelming strength of Bulwark as she pushed me across the ring. I looked for any opening to knock her off balance, but after three matches with me she had learned most of my tricks. Attempting a throw, I wrapped my hooves around her left foreleg and stood on my hind legs. However she just steadied herself on her other three hooves, shook me back and forth like a rattle, and tossed me out of the ring. The armor absorbed all of the impact of my landing, but my world was spinning and my ego bruised.

“What’s wrong?” Bulwark asked. “That can’t be all you’ve got.”

Far from mocking me, her words were ones of concern.

“I’ve told you before: I’m just not that strong,” I said. It stung to say those words, but I couldn’t let her know my earth pony identity was a sham.

She shook her head, not believing a word of it. “You can’t be that weak; I won’t stand for it. Get up. We’re going again.”

“No I’m done,” I said, taking off my helmet and starting to walk off. But the vermillion filly was persistent.

“Do you not know how to use earth magic?” she asked accusingly.

I made a quick judgment call and decided that since unicorns could use magic at this age, and pegasi could fly, it would follow that earth ponies should have their abilities at my age.

“It’s not that,” I said. “I’m just not that good at it is all.”

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” I squeaked.

“Really? Then what are the three major principles?”

I paused to think. I understood my geomancy was somewhat analogous, but three principles would be oversimplifying it.

“See I knew it!” Bulwark said, taking my silence as a confession. “You don’t know earth magic.”

“You got me,” I said nonchalantly, walking towards a water station, but the hefty filly blocked my path.

“I can teach you,” she said, briefly blushing.

“No thanks,” I said walking the other way.

“This isn’t fair to me!” the filly cried, running a hoof through her yellow mane. “My future husband can’t be this weak.”

I ignored her and was accosted by my acquaintance.

“Lose again?” Thaumaturgical asked, offering me a water bottle. I gratefully accepted and took a big gulp.

“I can’t overcome the power gap—she’s just so strong! The first win must have been a fluke,” I lied.

“Well you do fine in your matches against the other earth ponies,” he said to reassure me.

“Occasionally…” I added.

“Well, yes, but then again I have below a .500 record against our unicorn peers. I guess battle magic isn’t what my cutie mark is telling me...”

I didn’t respond, merely slumping, I hated how weak I was—weak as a unicorn, but without magic to compensate.

The gray colt thought for a moment.

“Did you do any farm work?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“I know your parents are police ponies, but did you have a family farm?”

“No,” I answered, failing to see the relevance.

“Not to stereotype, but even Canterlot earth ponies often have relatives in farming. I hear Bulwark’s parents sent her to work on her gift brother’s farm for a year to build muscle.”

“Wow, that’s pretty impressive,” I said. “I have to admire her dedication.”

“So, you wouldn’t mind marrying her then?” Spectacle teased.

“Did you check up on her so-called family tradition?” I asked, ignoring the prodding.

“Yes, I learned that all Amarezonian traditions died out five hundred years ago. She doesn’t have to marry the first stallion to best her in combat.”

“Then that means…”

“Somepony has a crush on you,” the dorky colt sang.

“Oh stop it,” I said. “Like you don’t secretly like Pestle.”

Thaumaturgical blushed red, hiding behind his dark green bangs. “How did you know?”

I laughed hard at this. It was a high-pitched, girlish laugh, which I quickly stifled.

Other ponies looked at us, so I straightened my neck and faked a loud cough. Once the stares had ceased, I answered him with a smug grin. “I didn’t have any clues, nor did I think it was true. I just wanted to see how you would react to that accusation. Thank you for admitting it, though.”

“Don’t tell anypony please,” he pleaded.

I waved a hoof dismissively. “I couldn’t care less.”

He seemed a little offended at that, but accepted my reassurance nonetheless. Saying goodbye to him, I took a circuitous route back to the castle in order to avoid Bulwark.

The last two weeks had flown right by. It was a surreal experience, and it unnerved me how routine this pony stuff had all become, hugs and the sugar included. As a sign of progress, I could now read their script at approximately half the reading speed I had for my native language. But what amazed me more was how well my knowledge of Lucens as a second language had held up. It had been drilled into our heads with stringent military discipline, and it heartened me to see our methods pay such rich dividends.

On the other hand, Lucens, or rather Equish, had become the language I thought in, and I feared I would start to forget my native tongue. To remedy this, I occasionally talked to myself in Rhodish to try and keep it fresh, but I had kicked the habit when around Twilight as she insisted on trying to map the points of articulation of our vowels. I had learned my lesson after a three hour session of me uttering monosyllables while Twilight stared at my tongue.

Despite my newfound reading comprehension, I was about average academically. To protect my ego, I had to reassure myself that my test results were inaccurate due to my unique circumstances. As an adult, I should not have had any trouble with school exams. With the school curriculum occasionally getting the best of me, a strange reversal occurred. Instead of dreading recess and taking solace in the structured classroom, I had started to tolerate the interactions with my classmates during recess. Even if some of the games were childish, they were great exercise. What I lacked in stamina I made up for with enthusiasm—though Zephyr Zap probably had me beat in the latter department as well as the former. Celestia obviously liked my increased sociability, and I respected her for not voicing her approval of it.

Unfortunately, two weeks elapsed meant two weeks closer to being a pony princess. The incidents of my voice shooting up in pitch had increased in frequency, and Dr. Withers had confirmed it meant what I thought it did. She told me stray magic would likely start coming my way again, albeit with less ferocity than from before. As a solution I retrieved my emerald focus crystal from Twilight and strapped it around my hidden horn. This meant the magic-absorbing crystal would effectively shield me from the front. What’s more, I would be able to deflect offensive spells used against me. Otherwise, I continued on with school and explained my occasionally high voice with an ailment I had caught.

Every other day had music class and each session brought me closer to the day I dreaded: the time when I would have to sing the lead role. Cycling through volunteers, Annuity once more got to sing in the foreground. When she pointed out that I hadn’t gone yet, Ms. Fizzle smiled and deflected the inquiry. She did, however put me in as a supporting player for the first time, as opposed to in the chorus. It wasn’t too big of a step. I had to sing one or two lines improvised in addition to the refrain. I failed to make them rhyme, but Ms. Fizzle praised me nonetheless.

One day after school, I met up with Squirt. As agreed I would accompany him home in order to work on our group music project. Star’s eyes lit up when I told her I was going to a friend’s house, but I just wanted the stupid project done with.

“So, ready to go?” I asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Squirt grumbled.

“I hear you. Music sucks.”

“All projects suck.”

I weighed whether to make a comment about his work ethic when we walked into the middle of an interesting scene that was developing.

“I heard you making fun of others for not keeping up during fitness class. You have no right to do so when you can barely beat me,” Pestle shouted at Annuity.

That’s what I said, and that was weeks ago. Why is she bringing that up now, I thought. She’s usually not this confrontational.

Annuity took the bait, responding, “I could beat you any time if I wanted to. I just pace myself.”

“Care to prove it?” Pestle asked.

“Any time, four-eyes.”

“These aren’t glasses; they’re eye protection,” Pestle responded. “I can see just fine without them.”

“Whatever. What do you have in mind? A race?”

“No, that’s something you would think of—no creativity at all. What I have in mind is an interesting game of team tag that will only end when one of us tags the other.”

“That sounds simple,” Annuity chided.

“Oh, it’s more complicated than that. I’ll give you a run-down of the rules: First we split into two teams...”

“Let’s go,” Squirt said. “Those two never got along. I’ve seen this all before.”

“Hang on,” I said “I want to get a drink of water.

I trotted up to the fountain at the side of the schoolhouse and put my muzzle to the faucet head.

“Wait!” Thaumaturgical shouted, running towards me with a panicked look on his face. “You shouldn’t drink that water.”

“Why not?”

“It—uhhh—it uhhh tastes bad. I drank from it earlier.”

I shrugged and took a drink anyway. It did taste strange, but it wasn't anything I couldn't tolerate. Thaumaturgical looked at the ground, ears down.

I thought nothing of it, and we walked around Annuity and Pestle’s game of tag and left the schoolyard. With a few inches of snow underneath our hooves, Squirt’s house thankfully wasn’t far from the school. We arrived in about five minutes to a modest stone building that looked like it had been molded from red clay. It jutted out on the second story and was generally angular in its construction. Like Twilight’s home, there were flowers lining the entryway. I had to wonder if they were just for decoration, or if they were there to offer guests a snack.

Squirt fished a key out of a flowerpot and unlocked the door. We trotted inside.

I was greeted by a foyer with a polished wood staircase that went straight up. A red persian carpet was underneath our feet and the jutted window sills were decorated with flower vases.

“I’m home,” he announced.

“Hello, Squirt, welcome home!”

A familiar white, brown-maned mare came into view. I immediately recognized her.

“Hi, Coffee Swirl,” I said, surprised.

“Hello, River,” she said.

“You two know each other?” Squirt asked

“Yes, from the Junior Royal Guard,” the mare said.

Squirt tapped a hoof to his forehead. “Duh, I should have been able to figure that one out.

The mare giggled. “By the way, I’m actually Latte Swirl.”

“Sorry.”

“Happens all the time,” she said dismissively.

“Still, Squirt, I didn’t expect your mother to be royal guardsmare.”

The mare blushed, shaking her head. “No I’m not his mother.”

“Though you’re old enough to be,” Squirt snarked.

“Hey!”

Squirt blew a raspberry.

“Me and Coffee were our mother’s first pregnancy before she met Squirt’s father. When my sister and I left Manehattan to join the guard here in Canterlot, our mother let us move back in here.”

“Wish you’d get your own place, so you two would stop nagging me. One mother is enough—now I’ve got three.”

“Stop it. You know you love us.”

She got another raspberry in response.

“Do you want any juice or cupcakes?” Latte asked as Squirt started climbing the stairs.

“No thanks,” Squirt said. “This shouldn’t take too long.”

I motioned to follow, but she held me up.

“Hey, River,” she whispered “can I ask you a favor?”

“What is it?”

“Could you try and maybe suggest Squirt join the Junior Royal Guard? I’ve asked him several times, but he won’t listen. Maybe he would take it better from one of his friends.”

“Hmm.”

She clapped her front hooves together in supplication. “Can you please try? It would be good for him; otherwise he just lazes about the house.”

I relented. “All right.”

“Thank you.”

I trotted up the stairs and easily found Squirt’s bedroom. The carpet was similar to that in the foyer, while the walls were painted white. No posters adorned the room, but it was nonetheless cluttered with school supplies, toys and even a colt-sized suit. I cringed at the messiness as I found Squirt lounging in a desk chair.

“So what did she talk to you about?” Squirt asked.

I suspected he already knew the answer.

“She wanted me to recommend you join the Junior Royal Guards,” I said plainly. Considering Squirt was expecting it, I didn’t feel like I was crossing Latte’s intentions.

“Okay.” He shrugged “Let’s hear your best sales pitch.”

“Well you get to learn essential outdoors skills.”

“I hate the outdoors,” Squirt said.

“You get to fight other ponies. That’s fun,” I said.

“I would lose every time,” Squirt said. “I don’t have my cutie mark. Besides, I hate exercise.”

I knew he wasn’t going to be convinced, but I figured I owed Latte one last try, so I explained to him about how we honed our observation skills.

Squirt laughed at my story. “Really!? That’s it? You practice standing around stone-faced watching other ponies rake leaves?”

“Thank you,” Squirt said. “You’ve convinced me I never want anything to do with the Junior Royal Guard.”

I nodded. I had to struggle with the physical activities and training exercises due to my own lack of a cutie mark, but I was motivated by pride. Squirt, on the other hoof, didn’t seem motivated by anything, so it was probably a bad fit anyway.

“So are you ready to start the assignment?” Squirt asked as if the last word pained him.

“I guess. We have to write a song is all it is, right?”

“Yeah.”

“If you don’t mind,” I started, “I would rather you write it because my hoofwriting is still shaky.”

“Still?”

I flinched at my slip-up.

“I mean, I’ve been trying to improve it, but it’s still not good.” Squirt looked like he had lost interest halfway through my short explanation.

“Where do we even begin?” Squirt groaned.

“We could start by coming up with a theme,” I suggested.

We briefly tossed around ideas until Squirt came up with something odd.

“How about how everypony is special?”

I did a double-take.

“Didn’t we already sing a song about that in class?”

“So? Teachers love that kind of talk of how everypony is a special snowflake.”

“I still don’t—”

“Got any other ideas?”

“No”

“Then I say we stick with it. I don’t want to work all day on this.”

From there we came up with the idea of pointing out something special about everypony in our class. At first we tried to adhere to a rhyme scheme, but Squirt stopped caring about a stanza in. Not wanting to rack my brain for rhymes, I acquiesced.

“What about Gilded Acres?” I asked.

“Her cutie mark is a checkerboard of cornfields. She doesn’t want to work on a farm, so I guess her cutie mark means she wants to manage multiple farms?”

“How about ‘Gilded Acres she wants more, guiding produce to the store.’”

With a shrug Squirt started writing.

“That was just me thinking aloud,” I protested. “I didn’t mean for you to write it down.”

“So? It’s good enough.”

“Good enough?” I echoed.

The concept was almost completely foreign to me. My upbringing had instilled in me a desire to do my best for the cause, and usually nothing less than perfection was required.

“You and I don’t like this sort of thing, so we should just finish it by using whatever we come up with.”

“What about our grade?” I asked.

“Trust me: Ms. Fizzle loves every foal’s creativity. We’ll just say it’s a free verse song and she’ll eat it up.”

I hesitated to give up my standards, but then a realization struck me that filled me with euphoria. Squirt was wonderful! He was a pony, yet he was different from the other colts and fillies. He hated music, he didn’t like sweets that much and to top it off, he wasn’t hyperactive at all.

Such a pony exists! And he’s sitting beside me. I… I have a choice. I can choose not to be a happy-go-lucky singing pony. Maybe I can be whatever pony I want to be!

It was a simple realization, but it had a profound effect on me. My good mood was infectious and pretty soon Squirt and I were spitballing whatever lame or silly verses we could come up with.

Then we reached me.

“How about River Glade wants to be a guard, protecting Equestria from harm? It even sort of rhymes.”

I regarded the false cutie mark adorning my flank and slunk. It was a lie. I was not to be a guardspony, I was no longer a fighter of Rhod, and I was certainly not an alicorn princess. What was I?

I gave my assent.

“Final line?” “It’s for me. I could say that I’m lazy, but then I might get sent to the guidance counselor again.”

“What about. ‘Squirt’s destiny has yet to stick, endless possibilities.’”

Squirt laughed. “That sounds like something a parent would say to their foal that hasn’t found their cutie mark yet. But the teacher will love it. Yeah let’s go with that. There! All done!”

Squirt and I high-fived and enjoyed our triumph for a glorious three seconds.

Then it hit me.

“You do realize we have to perform this, right?”

Squirt buried his head in his hooves.

After minimal rewriting I left Squirt’s house, but not without having snacks forced on me. The juice was tart and the cupcake was still too sweet for me. Latte turned out to be a very pushy pony.

Star Chart swooped down to meet me once I was around the block. I chalked up a mental point for not letting her sneak up on me. This was of course with the caveat that it was still only late afternoon. She would have doubtlessly been undetectable at night. She was wearing invisible armor—an additional precaution as to not arouse suspicion. As it was, I had already been seen too often with Celestia’s guards.

“So, how was it?” Star asked.

“About what you would expect,” I replied “writing music is such a worthless endeavor.”

“I’ll have to take you to a concert some time. Composed music is an entirely different experience than spontaneous music. Still I’m pleased that you got your project done early. If you started to shirk your homework, I would have had to start micromanaging you, and neither of us would be happy with that.”

“I don’t see why Princess Celestia cares so much. I’m an adult, so it shouldn’t matter if I don’t do my homework on occasion. Not that I would.”

Star shook her head.

“These experiences may not seem like much now, but it’s part of the whole package. Even if you don’t realize it, every new experience will teach you something.”

I thought back to my revelation earlier that day.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Our conversation came to a halt as a throng of ponies up ahead were blocking the road. This sort of thing was normal as hoof traffic sometimes slowed down during the day, but it rarely outright stopped. This was strange in that the ponies in front of us were milling about in every direction, seemingly aimlessly. Some of them were standing around and talking while others were doing business at the stalls lining the roadway. We looked for an alternative route, but strangely the adjacent streets were blocked in a similar manner.

“That is bizarre,” Star muttered. “Do you mind if I fly us back?”

Remembering the intimate experience of being carried by Luna I declined her offer.

With another detour we finally found an uncluttered street with ponies lined up to be served at a hay dog stand. We started to make our way down this cobblestone way when we heard shrieking laughter. A green laser beam zapped the ponies waiting in line and soon the straight line instead became a tangled mess of ponies.

I scanned the nearby rooftops, and my eyes were immediately drawn to a poofy orange-maned unicorn mare wearing a skintight costume. It was purple and green and embroidered with bells.

“MWHAHAHAHAHAHA. With my nefarious Chaotic Queue™ ponies will be unable to form an orderly line. I’ll target grocery stores, trot-thrus, amusement parks! With one zap of my Chaotic Queue™ waiting ponies will take up double—no, TRIPLE the space, making getting around anywhere a claustrophobic nightmare. And then... somehow... I will rule the world! And there’s nopony who can stop me!”

“Oh really?” Star challenged.

She kicked off the ground and flew towards the costumed mare at an incredible speed. With surprising agility, her foe danced aside and tossed something that looked like a gumball at Star’s wings. A sticky rubber tied up her wings, causing her to fall to the ground. I started to panic as my retainer plummeted. However, four armored stallions flew above me, catching Star before charging the villain themselves. Unfortunately, they ended up on the ground with gummed up wings as well.

The ponies below screamed and tried to flee the scene, but they were unable to do so in an orderly fashion and ended up tripping each other up. I had to duck under ponies and dance around hooves in order to avoid being trampled. Methodically, I made it to the steps of a storefront to achieve safety and get a better view.

I didn’t know what to think. This supervillain’s scheme seemed fairly benign, yet she had dispatched five royal guards effortlessly. I wanted to do something, but I felt completely powerless. It wasn’t likely I would be able to get the mare with the sorts of throws that had once bested Bulwark. She was an adult.

Suddenly an orange glimmer appeared on the horizon. A blur flew towards us and straight at the villain, who blocked with the thick barreled contraption she was holding. She staggered back slightly but quickly recovered, a smile on her face.

“Ah, Rising Sun, we meet again. You may have bested me the last sixteen times, but you know what they say: the seventeenth time’s the charm!”

Somehow the combatants exchanged a flurry of punches. I was baffled by the bird’s ability to throw punches, but considering the oddity of the situation, this was a minor detail. I would have stayed in place and hidden, but the crowd started to encroach on my vantage point and forced me down to the street. I felt the pushing and prodding, yet strangely, there was another sensation. It was centered around my horn and it felt like water trickling into a glass, drop by drop.

Figuring I would be safest inside a store, I fought through the crowd to reach another colorful establishment. I ducked into it with a sigh of relief, as a heavy stallion walked where I had been just a second earlier. Closing the door on the scene, I exhaled.

I then noted my surroundings were completely dark. I then heard a pop; the lights flicked on; and confetti, streamers and balloons dropped from above.

A mustached teal stallion approached me with outstretched hooves. His cutie mark was a black masquerade mask and his mane was a tangled black.

Please don’t tell me he’s going to hug me...

“Congratulations! You are our twelve-thousandth one hundred and sixty seventh customer. And do we have a special gift for you! You win your very own superhero costume!!”

I felt like my brain had hit the ground with a plunk. The oddity of the last two minutes had caused me to completely freeze up. I was debating whether to brave the outdoors once more to escape this weirdo.

Finally I said, “You do realize that there’s an incident going on outside, right?”

“Hmm?”

“You know? The stampede?”

The stallion paused, and I could almost visualize my message going in one ear and out the other.

Ignoring what I had said completely, he said with pep, “Let’s get you into your new costume. You’ll be looking heroic in no time!”

I struggled and writhed but the stallion was too strong. One-by-one he forced my limbs through the holes. Sliding the material against my fur, he caused a static charge to accumulate on my coat as he pulled it over me. When he was done I found myself in black spandex with a white stripe down my barrel. The sun was emblazoned on one side, while a moon crest adorned the other side. From what I had seen, the mask was much the same.

The oblivious stallion wheeled out a mirror, and I just turned away in disgust. I now was certain I would prefer chaos over staying inside with a loon. I opened the door, and outside the ponies were still pushing and shoving to get down the crowded street. Hatching an idea I hopped on top of a short mare and started walking over the crowd and back towards the scene of the duel. Even if I couldn’t do anything, I at least wanted to see how it played out. As I hopped from pony to pony, I felt the trickling sensation near my horn again.

My horn? But my magic’s been sealed.

Wait... it’s not coming from within the horn, but what’s—the crystal!

Although the crystal was not exposed to a direct attack, I could see the residual magic emanating from the stampeding ponies and flowing into the crystal. Bit by bit, the crystal was charging..

Maybe there’s something I can do. But I’ll only have one shot at this.

Continuing my crowd-surfing, I reached the haydog stand and hopped on the sunshade covering it. Using it as a trampoline I barely cleared a nearby roof. Rising Sun and the villain were still exchanging blows on the next roof over. Their movements were blurry, but the villainess was clearly the bigger target. I trained my eye on her.

Diane, let my aim be as true as yours.

Intuitively I directed my magic into my horn. The mana felt viscous and slippery, but after some effort I managed to direct it to the tip of my horn. The barrier was there, preventing me from expelling any magic, but I didn’t need to break it. If my theory was correct, magic in close proximity—in this case inside my horn—could serve as a trigger mechanism for the crystal.

I scrunched up my face behind the mask.

Come on…

The mana ebbed inside my horn.

Come on…

I focused the mana into a cylindrical column and used all of my focus to keep it there.

And it snapped.

With a whoosh, green energy streamed out of the focus crystal, pelting the orange-maned villainess. My attack only singed her costume and caused her to stumble somewhat, but that was enough. Rising Sun seized the opening and knocked her adversary to the ground. She broke the Chaotic Queue tool and instantly the effects faded, turning the mad stampede into an orderly one.

The mare got to her feet, but Star and the four pegasus guards from before had all recovered. Taking her from behind, they tackled her and cuffed her hooves. The villainess seemed unfazed, however.

“You may have bested me today, Rising Sun, but you haven’t seen the last of me! Next time will be different! I’ll come back with a newer, eviler scheme that not even you will be able to stop. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA.”

Star just shook her head, while the stallion guards didn’t react at all as they carried her away. Was such an odd event that mundane for them?

“Rising Sun saved the day!”

“You can say that again, Exposition Sayer.”

“Rising Sun defeated Maniacal Laughter! Again! And she has a new sidekick!”

Wait… sidekick?

I looked down at my costumed body and scanned the large throng of ponies around us. All eyes were on me.

“Ponyfeathers.”

Rising Sun proved to be surprisingly strong, as she was able to single hoofedly carry me back to the castle. We entered through a high window and went down a hidden fireplace entrance into her lair.

Once there, I tore the costume off and threw it in the garbage, never wanting anything to do with such silliness again. Still, I was enormously proud. Me—a magicless unicorn had helped defeat a supervillain. I had to admit that felt pretty good. Philomena led the way as we descended several flights of stairs. She then took a sudden left turn into a side room; I followed.

“Oh, there you are Philomena,” Celestia said.

“Aron!” Celestia shouted upon seeing me, and she rushed up to me and hugged me in her wide white wings.

“We were so worried when you got separated from Star and your security detail. Where were you?”

I opened my mouth, ready to tell the whole story, but Philomena shushed me. Admitting I had run around in a costume was somewhat embarrassing, so I told a half-truth, preserving the phoenix’s secret identity.

“I was swept up in the crowd and I didn’t know what was going on. I knew to stay calm, though, and I took refuge in a store. When the mayhem was over, I found my way back into the castle.”

“I’m just glad you’re safe. Praise Rising Sun! And praise her sidekick Eclipse.”

“Eclipse?” I asked, jaw dropping.

They named me?

“Yes! Exciting news, Aron: Rising Sun has a new filly sidekick.”

Filly? Oh this just keeps getting better and better.

“Still I’m not sure I can approve Rising Sun taking a filly with her to fight crime.”

I knew I could count on her to be reasonable.

“Then again, I trust her judgment, so I’m sure it will be fine.”

I facehoofed.

Philomena winked at me.

I awoke the next morning feeling aches all over. Apparently my acrobatic crowd hopping had taken its toll on me. Still, I intuitively knew something else was wrong with my body. As I approached the mirror, an entirely new pony came into view. This pony had sky-blue fur and a neon-pink mane.

Wait… don’t tell me…

I sighed in relief. I was still a colt, if only for the moment. Twilight had mentioned something about genes for fur and mane color being encoded on sex chromosomes, so I had known to expect this as part of the change.

Still, just because I averted a big change didn’t mean I wasn’t upset about a lesser one. Putting a hoof over the top of my reflection I traced my newly pink mane. I then fluffed it and watched in the mirror, undeniably confirming it was mine.

“Pink! PINK!? Pink? No… no no no no no!” I screeched banging my head against the floor.

“Anything but pink. Anything but pink. It’s one thing if this world has to make me into a pony princess, but a pink one!? NO!”

I closed my eyes. Any other mane color. I’d take any other mane color than this. I took several deep breaths to calm myself and traced a hoof in circles on the carpet. It wasn’t fair; I wasn’t even hit by any stray magic.

What would Celestia think? Would she tell me to accept it? What would Annuity say…

I cringed, and resignedly, I opened my eyes, expecting more pink.

But my mane and tail were now a sharp scarlet.

Author's Note

I was going to have Aron wake up as a filly at the end of the chapter, but I decided to be merciful.

Let me know if I missed any italics.

Chapter 18 Author's Note

I'm very happy to announce that I've hit the 400 like threshold. I never dreamed any story of mine would do this well.

Writing this chapter brought a smile to my face during some hard times. This chapter is a strange beast. If you're a geek like me, it might constitute some good world building. However, please forgive me if it's a bit too science heavy.

Chapter 18

When the knock on the door first came, I was too busy contemplating my stranger of a reflection to hear it. After the third knock, a familiar maid tiphoofed into the room. Upon seeing me, she froze in place and blinked a couple of times.

“I see,” she said, staring. “I should get Princess Celestia.”

“Yeah, you probably should,” I responded, not bothering to conceal my higher voice.

As her yellow tail disappeared around the corner I had to wonder how much she and others like her really knew about my situation. Hopping up on the bed to wait, I tried to recall who knew at this point. Truthfully I wanted something else to contemplate, as otherwise I was left stealing glances at the mirror every couple of seconds to see if my mane had reverted to pink. Finally, after a few awkward minutes of waiting, the pony giantess appeared in the doorway. She knocked despite the open door, and I squeaked my consent.

She entered the room, taking measured steps while regarding me.

“Aron… I’m sorry. There’s no easy way about this,” she said in a heavy tone. “You probably don’t want to hear this now, but give it time. Although it may seem impossible to you now, you will adapt, as you already have brilliantly. I’m sure this will be the hardest obstacle by far; there’s no getting around that fact, but...”

What’s with all the drama? I thought

“Just know that colt or filly, you’re still you.” After finishing her monologue she looked me in the eyes for the first time and said with a concerned expression, “You’re taking this fairly well. I didn’t think—”

“I’m still a colt,” I interjected.

A palpable silence fell over the room, and the princess flashed me an enigmatic smile.

“Hmm, at least they’re fairly nice colors,” Celestia said, unsure.

“That’s all you have to say?” I wasn’t upset, but I had expected another apology.

“Perhaps I should have been more tactful. Do you not like your new colors?”

I shrugged. “I don’t mind them. It’s not like I was particularly attached to my old colors. Besides, you warned me this might happen.”

Celestia looked around the room, avoiding my gaze. It was as if she was holding out hope that I might forget what I had just heard.

“So,” I began, “that’s the pep-talk you have planned for when I become a filly?”

Celestia nodded sheepishly.

“What do you think?”

“It needs work,” I stated plainly.

“I was going to hug you as well. You’re still welcome to it.”

“Go ahead,” I said reluctantly. If there was one thing I had learned from Squirt, it was that it’s best to get the unpleasant parts out of the way early. Still, when the princess wrapped her forehooves around me and stroked my withers with a white wing, I experienced a disconcerting calm. In that moment, I felt an internal warmth. It was as if she and I were the only ponies in the world. When she released me, it was tempting to just bask in the afterglow, but I dragged myself back to reality with a question.

“Do you have any idea what could have caused my colors to change?”

“I’m afraid I don’t. I was hoping you would have some ideas. Of course, it’s always possible that the changes managed to progress without an outside magical catalyst.”

I thought back to the day before.

“Hmm… the only stray magic I encountered yesterday came from that supervillain’s magical device. My crystal absorbed most of it, but it’s possible that some of it hit me.”

“It’s possible,” Celestia said. “Though I’d have expected the change to be more immediate if this were the case.”

“Is there a way to check?”

“There are a couple of quick spells I can try; however, I’ll only risk a superficial examination for fear of transforming you further.”

“Go ahead.”

Her horn glowed gold, and I felt a slight tingling. The alicorn’s eyes gazed through me, and I felt strangely exposed.

“Hmm… internally you are still a colt, which is a good sign. But as expected, you are now genetically female. I’m not an expert like Twilight or the professor, but I’d estimate that this is a highly unstable state for you.”

“Meaning?”

“To be candid, I can say I don’t expect you to remain a colt much longer.”

I felt a cold anxiety grip my heart as I imagined losing more of myself to this world.

“Well... I knew that already.”

She continued to run her eyes across my tiny body.

“Magically, I don’t detect anything out of the ordinary… I suppose this means some time in the recent past your y chromosome became an x… And it just started to manifest in your colors?”

I shrugged, not understanding any of what she had just said. “Don’t look at me. Like you said: let’s ask Twilight or the professor.”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid the scientist in either mare would keep you under the microscope you until the mystery is solved. And I’d rather you not miss school.”

“I can’t exactly go to school looking like this, can I?”

Celestia smiled, undeterred by my perfect excuse. Her horn glowed, and she pulled a small, familiar ring out of nowhere. “I take it you remember this?”

I nodded.

“I modified it to show a colt in your original colors.”

“That might work… but what about my voice?

Celestia smiled. “An apt concern, but you have been able to throw your voice to approximate your colt voice, correct?”

“Yes, but—”

“If and when your voice can’t be hidden any longer, I know a zebra alchemist who can help us with a potion.” Celestia seemed to be enjoying knocking down my excuses.

Several objections came to mind, but this time I took a second to sift through them in order to choose the best. “You can keep putting band-aids on the problem, but eventually the changes will be too much. I mean, I’m getting younger all the time, right?”

Celestia sighed. “You have been doing so well at Canterlot First that I want to keep you there as long as possible. However, yes, once your wings come in, the ring’s illusion won’t be able to protect you from what incidental contact may reveal. To address what you asked about, you have gotten younger as well, although it’s not noticeable at this point.”

“So what does that mean?”

“We’ll talk about it when the time comes. For now, you should probably start walking to school.”

I shuffled my hooves nervously. “Actually, there’s one more thing I forgot to tell you…”

Celestia cocked her head and smiled serenely.

“When I first woke up my mane was—it was pink. I wasn’t happy about this, and I... freaked out. I don’t know how it happened, but when I next opened my eyes, the pink was gone.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a trick of the light?”

“Positive.”

“Interesting. I would guess it was an intermediate color. Another possibility I would normally consider is that you unknowingly used alicorn volition magic; however, your magic seal is still intact. Hmm.. I’ll have Twilight do some tests while you’re at school, since the map didn’t call her.”

Map?

She then requested a hair sample and stored some of my saliva in a small vial. Celestia then used her magic to brush my long bangs out of the way, and levitated the ring towards me.

“Wait a minute. My horn’s so small. You can’t possibly fit both it and the crystal on—”

No sooner had I said it than she had successfully slipped the ring on me.

Celestia moved closer to examine my doubly equipped horn.

“I see… that makes sense.”

I stared at her for being weird about it and waved my hoof for her to continue.

“You remember how your signature indicates a prematurely born alicorn foal?”

“How could I forget? Ten weeks before term, right?”

Celestia nodded. “Since you have been here for several weeks now, your magical signature has aged as well. Alicorns tend to have longer horns than most ponies’. And judging from my experience with Cadance, your horn will grow more yet in the coming weeks.”

Reading my mind, Celestia levitated the mirror directly in front of me and removed my horn's accouterments. What had been but a nub before now resembled something of an actual horn. What had been a wart-like white was now sky blue to match my new fur. It was still small, but now it actually spiraled twice before reaching the tip.

I don’t understand… it was a deformity before, and I treated it as such. There shouldn’t be a horn on my head at all! So why should I feel any different?

Yet, I found myself feeling it with a hoof, marveling at the surprisingly smooth texture. I tapped it once with a hoof and flinched. It hurt about as much as getting kicked in the shin.

“It’s a nice horn,” Celestia said. It was an unwelcome remark. Nonetheless I blinked a couple of times and shook my head. I certainly wasn’t taking pride in it.

Wordlessly Celestia replaced the ring and crystal on my horn and gestured me out the door.

I had quite the vexing problem to consider as Star Chart walked me to school. Being more complete made me feel less like an aberration that needed to be shielded from other ponies. But each new change brought me further away from myself.

What I didn’t expect was an immediate resolution to one of the day’s main mysteries, yet I only had to walk through the schoolhouse door to figure it out. In the front row, Annuity had her face buried in her mane. This was already uncharacteristic of her, but what really stood out was that said mane was now a putrid seaweed green. What’s more, almost half the room was now sporting this unusual mane color. I glanced around and made note of the affected ponies. Daybreak, Bubble Bauble, Granite Hammer and the unicorn siblings Pish and Posh were among the victims.

All of Annuity’s friends...

By the time I reached my desk, Gilded Acres had joined their number. She didn’t notice until the laughter started, at which point she blushed and turned away. Her two contrasting shades of green easily made her the most ridiculous-looking of the bunch. I hopped up on my desk, having mostly figured out the details of what had happened.

“Good morning, River,” Zap said in between giggles. “What do you think of my new look?”

“It looks okay I guess,” I said hesitantly to my front neighbor.

“I know, right?” the filly responded. “I think it kind of suits me too!”

Her upbeat attitude was not shared by any of the others.

“Come on, Annuity, she got us good,” Zap said to the filly sitting in front of her. “It’s a prank, so you may as well laugh.”

“Why didn’t I stay home today?” Annuity mumbled to herself.

“That’s part of my genius,” Pestle gloated. “I carefully brewed the color change potion to only go into effect at the start of the school day. Half an hour earlier, and you all could have stayed home. A few hours too late and I miss the school day entirely. Truly I owe it all to carefully calculated metabolic kinetics.”

“So you admit it!” Annuity shouted, pointing an accusatory hoof at the silver filly.

“Yeah, I mean, why not? It’s not like anypony else could have spiked the water fountain with a magical dye. It’s your own fault for being provoked so easily.”

“I’ll get you for this,” Annuity said through clenched teeth.

Pestle Mix smiled. “You do realize that you can’t uninvite me to your birthday party more than once, right?”

“Well then, I’ll re-invite you and then uninvite you again!”

Pestle raised an eyebrow, and even Annuity’s friends found it hard not to laugh at her stupid remark.

Annuity looked like she was about to say something else, but instead she looked down and starting mumbling to herself.

Meanwhile, in between Zap and Pestle, Thaumaturgical was nervously kicking his back hooves back and forth in his desk. Eventually, he turned back to face me.

“River, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about the water fountain. I—I just didn’t want to ruin the prank.”

I was suddenly inundated by anger, as I put the final pieces together.

“It’s your fault!” I said through gritted teeth.

His ears drooped. “I’m sorry. Pestle told me not to tell anypony.”

“Why didn’t you trust me? You know I don’t like Annuity.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say, River,” Ms. Fizzle said, entering the room. “Oh my! What happened here?”

“Sorry…” Spectacle whispered to me, completely ignoring Fizzle’s befuddled reaction.

The thinking part of me recognized that he was keeping his word, and another part of me really respected him for showing such fidelity. However, my brain was still swimming in rage, and I just glared at my so-called friend until he turned around in his desk to sit down.

“Ms. Fizzle!” Annuity called out. “Look what Pestle did to my beautiful mane!”

“Oh, the old mane dye prank,” Fizzle said warmly. “I can’t say I didn’t pull that one once or twice during my school days.”

“Ms. Fizzle!” Several students pleaded.

“Oh, right! Pestle, what do you have to say for yourself?”

Pestle Mix smiled and stood on top of her desk to make sure she had everyone’s attention.

“I say it’s her fault for succumbing to such feeble provocation. I only repeated what River said to her, and she still took the bait! All I had to do was tire her out with a silly game of tag I made up. It was then inevitable she would take a drink, while I told my team to avoid the fountain.”

I saw the Citrus siblings nodding their approval.

“Now Pestle,” Fizzle said through a forced pleasant monotone. “Don’t you regret what you did?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact,”

Fizzle smiled.

“I regret that this potion was a failure. After all, River was unaffected.”

All eyes suddenly zoned in on me.

“Sorry about that, by the way, River. Call it collateral damage.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Still, I have to wonder why my potion didn’t work on you. Maybe your magical signature is resistant…”

“What did you say!?” I asked in disbelief.

I felt a maelstrom of panic start to brew inside me as her horn glowed a cool blue, my heart threatening to jump out of my barrel.

“Wait wait wait!” I squealed. “I… uh think I feel something coming on.”

Lowering my head I felt for my horn, slipped the ring off, and placed it beside me on the chair.

The class gasped collectively and whispered among themselves.

“And I thought he looked like a filly before,” Annuity jeered.

Did ..I make the right choice?

Pestle’s horn ceased to glow and she pumped a hoof. “Come to think of it, Master Cauldron did tell me antelope sprig can be unpredictable. That’ll teach me to cut corners!”

“Pestle, it’s not nice to use magic on other ponies without asking,” Fizzle scolded.

“Sorry..” Pestle said to me. For the first time, she probably meant it.

Ms. Fizzle clapped her front hooves together. “Okay! Let’s get class rolling.”

“Wait a minute,” Annuity griped, “you’re letting her get away with this?”

“She said she was sorry.”

“But not to me!”

“Moving on!”

I smiled, while a few ponies actually giggled. Iron Jill stuck a hand in her mouth to silence a deep, bellowing laugh.

It cuts both ways, Annuity. If the teacher is oblivious to your unseemly actions, you can’t complain when others get a free pass.

“Okay, everypony. I had this lesson scheduled for later this week, but Pestle’s prank has inspired me! It’s a reminder that we should love our own colors and embrace our differences, so I have decided to move the special lesson to today. We’re going to learn about what it is that makes everypony different. We’re going to study genetics!”

She waited for a reaction. There was none.

“You get to learn what makes every pony one-of-a-kind!”

Her dramatic pause was met with yet more silence.

“Tough crowd… Anyway, it was a pony monk named Flower Cross that first theorized about what we now know as genes. A gene is part of a pony’s DNA. Your DNA is like an instruction manual on how to build you. Now, Flower Cross—”

“Isn’t that a bit simplified?” Beakington interrupted. “After all, RNA does all the work. What DNA does is serve as a template from which transfer RNA can be created. Then ribosomes use that transfer RNA to assemble proteins one amino acid at a time. Expression of different genes can also be effectively turned on and off with inducible promoters that…”

“Beakington, that’s a little too advanced for the moment. That’s more than we need to know right now, and more than I know...”

Annuity tossed a note back. Beakington straightened it out and read the single word: NERD. Beakington swatted it away.

“Now, Flower Cross bred plants as a hobby. He noticed that when he bred red flowers with white flowers he would usually get pink flowers. But something interesting happened when he bred two pink flowers. Sometimes he got red flowers, sometimes they were pink, and sometimes they were white.”

“Iron Jill doesn’t understand. What does bread have to do with this?”

“Good question, Jill! Breeding is a type of gardening that lets you take two different flowers and grow new flowers.”

Thaumaturgical grinned.

“Or new ponies—”

“Moving on! To explain this, Flower Cross theorized the concept of an allele.. An allele is a gene that can come in multiple forms. Each flower has two relating to color. They come in pairs because all DNA comes in pairs. One allele is inherited from each parent flower. For our example, let’s assume there are only white, red and pink flowers.”

She drew a square on the blackboard and bisected it twice.

“This is called a Cross Square, what it represents is—”

“Hang on,” Squirt interrupted. “Isn’t that an oxymoron? How can it be a cross and a square at the same time? I mean it looks like a square, and inside the square… oh.” He lightly hit his head with a hoof. “Why does it always have to be puns?”

“Moving on,” Fizzle repeated somewhat impatiently. “We represent the white flower as having the allele combination WW and red flower as having the allele combination RR”

No matter how many times I see them, their letters are still strange to me, I thought.

Fizzle then explained how the each square in the grid represented an inherited allele combination. RW resulted in pink, RR resulted in red, and WW resulted in white. Once she finished the initial example, she moved onto the more complicated case of two pink flowers and explained that pink comes from codominant alleles.

“Now, today we are going to talk about a pony’s fur color. Everypony receives many sets of alleles from their parents relating to color.”

“My parents buy me a lot of things, but I’m pretty sure they’re never given me an allele,” Bubble Bauble said.

“When you were made, your parents shared their DNA. That’s all the school board will allow me to say.”

“And now we’re speaking in couplets?” Squirt groaned.

Fizzle ignored him and placed a petri dish on Annuity’s desk. She then repeated the process twenty-four more times until everyone had one. Next, she went around pouring a clear solution into each of the petri dishes. The class watched her, fascinated as they scrutinized her movements for any sort of clue.

“Mane, fur and feather color is more complicated than the case with plants,” Fizzle said. “This solution, however, will visualize your colors based on the alleles you’ve inherited from your parents. Your mother’s will gather at the left, while your father’s will gather on the right. When two dots are across from each other, that represents an allele pair. Each pair has its own unique effect on color ”

She went behind the lectern and took out a multi-hued book. “Allele interaction for color is something we don’t fully understand. However, this book still is accurate. Now, what I want everypony to do is to take a single hair or feather and drop it into this potion. Each droplet of color you see represents a single allele. I’ll go around the room with this book and read the appropriate section for each one of you so you can understand how these genes known as alleles make you you.”

“This potion reads our DNA!?” Beakington asked, impressed.

“Not quite,” Pestle said. “No two colors are truly identical in ponies. This potion exploits that and precisely breaks it down the component colors to estimate the alleles.”

Gilded Acres snorted. “I don’t think he was asking you. Why are you answering?”

“Because I made it myself,” Pestle declared.

“Really?” Thaumaturgical asked, beaming.

“Well I guess I had a little help here and there. I was exaggerating, but not by much. Not by more than a moderate amount at least...”

“Now it will take me some time to get to each of you, so in the meantime I want you to observe your dots and think of the colors of your relatives. Ponies you are related to might have similar colors.”

“Wait a minute, won’t it not work right because of our manes?” Posh asked.

Fizzle smiled. “As long as you can get a hair from your coat, you’ll see all the results you would normally get, because mane and coat color are interrelated.”

“What about me?” I asked.

“Oh that’s right,” Fizzle said crestfallen. “It won’t work for you right now. I understand if you don’t want to participate.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m still interested in what these colors will show,” I said, hoping to solve another mystery.

“Then without further ado, let’s begin,” Fizzle proclaimed, magicking a phonograph on. Serene music filled the room. Annuity began by pulling a hair out from her coat and delicately dropping it into the solution. Zap had stood on top of her desk to get a better view of Annuity’s results, so I couldn’t see.

Fortunately, Fizzle improvised a solution. Her horn glowed orange and the aura surrounded the petri dish. A projection beam then shone from Fizzle’s horn onto the back wall, mapping the image onto it.

Annuity’s dish had approximately a dozen dots on each side of it. The left side had several dots of varying shades of red. There was also a gold dot and a dark yellow dot. On the right side were a few shades of light yellow, a black dot, two shades of purple, and a light orange among others.

Fizzle opened the book and read.

Bronze is a rare and often highly desired color.

Annuity looked very pleased.

It is exclusively expressed when an allele for gold and an abundance of yellow is possessed along with a single black allele. When not paired with black, gold is a superdominate allele and usually results in a golden mane. However, several pairs of light colors along with this black and gold combination result in bronze.

“Sounds right,” Annuity said. “Most of my mother’s family have gold in their manes. What about my coat?”

Fizzle flipped the page and read.

Rust red usually arises when red alleles are paired with lighter colors, at least one of them purple.

"Is anyone on your father’s side of your family purple?”

“My cousin has a purple streak through his hair, does that count?”

“Streaks of color are more complicated, but in short, yes.”

Fizzle moved on to Zephyr Zap next. The pegasus filly plucked a feather, dropped it in, and once more Fizzle projected the result for the class to see.

Zap’s profile was more uniform: almost everything was orange or yellow, but there was some slight purple on the right side as well as a black dot on either side of her plate.

Black is most commonly seen as a mane color. Statistically, more stallions than mares possess this trait. However, the latter may have a black mane if exactly two black alleles are each paired with colors complementary to the allele paired with the other black allele. Curiously, the black alleles must be from different parents. These strict conditions make it one of the rarest mane colors for mares. Stallions will commonly have black manes if several dark colors are paired with black. Black coats are an even rarer enigma. There are not enough of such ponies to draw any reliable generalizations.

“Cool!” Zap exclaimed, doing a backflip. “You hear that Annuity? I’m even rarer than you.”

“Hmph, well it said mine was especially desirable.”

“I guess so,” the filly laughed. “They say black doesn’t suit a mare, but I’ve always liked it.”

“That’s great, everypony. Never let anypony tell you otherwise. All colors are special,” Fizzle preached.

The teacher repeated the process for canary yellow. This explanation was extremely easy to understand, as all it required was several shades of yellow with none of the yellow paired with red.

“You’re next, River,” Fizzle said sliding down the aisle to reach me

“Isn’t this a waste of time?” Annuity asked. “These are fake colors, so it’s not like it will reflect River’s family.”

Pestle beat me to the punch.

“Actually, I am quite interested in how the potion will interpret artificial colors. I hypothesize it will come up as a pure blue—or maybe green is a better guess. Hurry up! I want to see for myself!”

Will this reflect my real family at all? I wondered. Or will it be unnaturally pure like Pestle suggested?

I dropped one of the blue hairs from my coat into the dish and was treated to a barrage of color. The mother side showed a light green, a transparent purple, a black, an orange, two shades of dark blue, pink, two whites, and the remainder were yellow. The father side was more uniform with several whites, bright blues, purples, a single red, a black, a silver, and a few bluish green ones.

“Oooh!” Fizzle exclaimed. “You have the pink allele.”

I flinched. “It’s only one,” I said. “What’s the big deal?”

“Well with pink it’s—you know, I think I’ll just read it to you directly.”

Pink is a common and popular color. The genes coding for it exhibit strange properties. First, it can only exist on gene number nine for color. Even more interestingly, it is an extremely rare color for stallions to possess, with pink coats being even less common for them. Yet, pink is a highly dominant trait when inherited from a stallion’s mother.

What makes pink so rare among stallions, then? The answer has to do with the other half of the gene nine allele pair inherited from the stallion’s father. When black is paired with pink, gray colors are usually the result in the absence of an overwhelming majority of other colors. Curiously, 95% of stallions possess a black allele in this position. It is suspected a bottleneck occurred in the pony population at one point, leaving most of the male population with this allele due to a prehistoric common ancestor. Mares may also have a black allele in this position, and the result is usually magenta, but pink can still manifest if enough light colored allele pairs are present. However, closely related red alleles in any position are unpredictable and can be highly influential in phenotype depending on what they are paired with.

“What colors are those?” I asked. Staring into my petri dish I saw white paired with the red. To my relief, I did have a black allele across from the pink one, so my secret wouldn’t be blown by the lack of a pink mane.

I probably should have thought that through before volunteering...

“It doesn’t say,” Fizzle replied. It’s probably unknown because this is more of an art than a science at times. Besides, not many mares have that black allele.

“Oh, right. It shouldn’t matter for me... Well now I know why I’m not pink. Still, how does this red mane come from only one allele?”

“Let me check the index,” Fizzle said, flipping through the book. “Here it is.”

When paired with a relatively recessive color, red tends to dominate in the absence of any matching allele pairs elsewhere.

I noted that two of the blues on the left side were matched with the silver and one of the purples.

“Can we hurry this along,” Annuity urged.

“Yes, okay, now sky blue”:

Sky blue is a color most commonly found in pegasus ponies. It is usually recessive in the face of darker blues, but it can dominate when paired with white.

Sure enough, some of the whites on the left were paired with the lightest of the blues.

So these are my colors, I thought. It felt bittersweet. On one hand I got reassurance that the sky blue was here to stay. But it had only confused the issue of whether my mane color really was supposed to be pink.

I stared at the red dot in hope and admiration, thinking of Diane.

Thank you, I thought to no one in particular

“Fascinating,” Pestle said. “So even fake colors have the complexity of real fur. I should try to replicate this.”

Fizzle then read the sections of my colt colors for my benefit, and I pretended to be interested. Those colors were lost to me, but they didn’t know that.

After my extended turn, Fizzle moved on to Beakington on my right. His colors were surprisingly easy to figure out, as only three pairs of alleles showed up in his dish, and they were almost exclusively green. The same held true for Iron Jill, who had inherited her fur color directly from her father. I tried to pay attention, but around the time of Gilded Acres’ turn, I lost my focus to digesting what I had just learned.

Even when recess came, I just leaned against the schoolhouse wall, working on committing my petri dish to memory. Thaumaturgical tried apologizing again, but for some reason, I really wasn’t interested in hearing it. Pestle wanted to examine me further to figure out what went wrong with her potion, and I waved her away too.

“Wow, are you trying to look like a filly on purpose?” came Annuity’s acrimonious voice. “You’re braiding your tail now?”

“I just felt like it,” I said. “Leave me alone.”

The real reason was of course that I needed somewhere to put the ring. I didn’t like the idea of leaving it loose in my saddlebag, where it could easily get lost.

When Ms. Fizzle called everybody back in, I was expecting history class. However, I was in for something of a surprise.

“Okay, everypony, for the past couple of weeks we’ve been studying the Maresailles peace conference. Now to get all of that information into your long term memories, I have a special announcement: we’re going to put on a school production of play Maresaillles!”

Once more her enthusiasm was met with awkward silence.

“Isn’t that the most boring play in existence?” Squirt said.

Fizzle’s smile only faltered a little bit. “Now I know it has that reputation, but I’m sure you all are in a unique position to understand it and, even better, share that knowledge with the community.”

Aside from Beakington III, the room was frozen with dread.

Fizzle sighed. “We’re doing the abridged version.”

Cheers erupted in the classroom after we all exhaled in relief.

“Okay, everypony. The first thing we need to do is to decide on roles. Who wants to play Princess Celestia?”

Every filly in the class raised her hoof, Iron Jill among them.

Wow. How popular is Celestia?

“Such enthusiasm! Okay, since I can’t possibly choose by myself, we’ll have to decide this by secret ballot. Everypony write down your vote, and I’ll collect them at the end of class. In the meantime, I’ll go over some of the logistics.”

“What do you think, Annuity?” Zap asked. “I think we should vote for Granite. She’s tall, so it would work well.”

Annuity smirked. “Actually, I think I have a better idea…” She began to whisper something to Zap, who blinked in concern.

“No, that’s mean,” Zap whispered. “I don’t think we should.”

“Whatever,” Annuity said. “Just know it’s on you if we don’t win.”

“What do you mean win? Don’t you want the part?”

“Sometimes we have to choose between things we want, Zap.”

I scowled. This filly was probably already thinking of a way to get even with Pestle. Then I again, I supposed it was fair play.

No other roles could be allotted before the vote, except for Squirt’s prompt volunteering to handle lighting and props. So we reviewed the general outline of the play and then took turns reading it aloud. When the school bell finally rang, I was among the quickest to leave. Without the ring to project my River Glade identity, I felt vulnerable.

It took some explaining, but Star came to accept my removal of the ring as the smartest thing to do under the circumstances. It would have looked too suspicious if I was unchanged compared to the rest of the class. Still she cursed Pestle’s cleverness of setting up a potion with a timed effect. If even one parent could have complained in time, it would have given us notice to dye my mane green, but it was what it was.

As expected, Star led me straight to Princess Celestia. It was also no surprise that the youngest princess was also there, along with her assistant. We met in a sitting room that had striped walls and hexagonal designs on the carpet..

“Tell me everything that happened!” Twilight demanded, forgetting to tone down the command.

“No need,” I said. “I know exactly what happened: Pestle Mix spiked the water fountain with a mane dye potion. I took a drink before anypony else did. I also got caught up in Maniacal Laughter’s evil plot, but I don’t think the Chaotic Queue ever got me.”

Twilight crumbled up a couple of pages of her notepad and tossed them away. A moment later, a pegasus maid stealthily ducked into the room and picked them up.

“I see,” Twilight said, paying the maid no mind. “That makes my job a bit easier. Still, we’ll need to wait for the professor to run the DNA test before we can conclude which is your true mane color.”

“Don’t bother,” I said with a shrug. “We had a genetics lesson today, and the results to the experiment we did said it could be either one.”

“You did the allele tracker experiment?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s so great,” Twilight said, happily trotting in place. “I loved that lesson at the School for Gifted Unicorns. At the time, it interested me so much that I spent weeks genotyping my entire family tree.” “Do you remember what yours showed? I need to know everything.”

I nodded and recited the entire pattern to her.

“So you have the pink gene?” said Twilight.

“But its partner allele is black,” I reminded her.

“Yes, and you have red paired with white.”

“The teacher couldn’t tell me if this makes red my real mane color. Do you know?

“Unfortunately, there’s no way to tell for certain. There are several white alleles that effectively code for the same color,” Twilight explained. “I know in my case , I have white 8 paired with red. The white alleles all behave uniquely. White 8 is one reason why my mane isn’t completely pink.”

“I have the pink gene too,” Celestia added. “For me, this meant my mane was entirely pink.”

“Really?” Twilight asked. “You’ve never mentioned that. I had suspected your mane hadn’t always been ethereal, but I figured it would more closely resemble Rainbow Dash’s.”

Celestia smiled. “As far as we know, an alicorn’s mane and tail colors do not predict how they will look after living long enough.”

The elder princess gave a silent giggle, covering her mouth with a hoof.

“In fact, my sister’s mane was pink as well,”

Spike snorted fire in laughter, and Twilight was clearly trying hard not to join him.

“Don’t tell her I told you that. She hated how it clashed with her coat.”

From there I told her about my day, explaining why I took the ring off.

“A shrewd solution,” Celestia commented. “What’s the concern?”

“I don’t know when the potion is supposed to wear off. I can’t pull the same stunt again in the middle of class, because if a single pony is looking at me when I’m putting the ring on, they’ll see through the illusion.”

“So you need to know how long the spell should last in the average colt or filly?” Twilight asked.

“Yes. Is there a spell to scan me and make an estimate?”

Twilight shook her head. “You’ve absorbed all the magic in the potion to progress your transformation, so it won’t resonate when we scan.”

“Oh…”

“However, there is a way, but I don’t think you’ll like it.”

“I fear nothing,” I proudly declared. “What do I have to do?”

Celestia regarded me with sympathy.

I spent the next hour having my stomach pumped. It was not fun.

Chapter 19

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Chapter 20

After having fillified myself, the princesses thankfully allowed me some space. I respected that they allowed me to retreat to the sanctuary of my room almost immediately. Aside from Cadance’s tentative offer of a hug, they made no unwelcome attempt to comfort me. Upon closing the door behind me, I immediately hopped up on my bed and sank my muzzle into a pillow. I spent the rest of the day in a haze of lament and disbelief. For the first time in my life I wanted to cry. Even so, the tears wouldn’t come, and I could only sigh to myself. My mind was fogged with ruminations of what I had lost, yet my emotions were a cocktail of dissident feelings, the net result of which was lethargy.

When a couple of hours had passed, it started feeling like I had put myself in time-out. Although, there was no real choice as every other option was unpalatable. Still, that didn’t mean that I had to do nothing. In fact, every minute I spent idle caused guilt to pile up higher.

Stretching, I jumped off the bed. I then imitated my exercise routine the best I could in my foal body. Squats and pushups were now impractical, but fortunately Star had acquired a small pair of dumbbells for me, along with some weighted horseshoes. I grabbed the latter items from under my bed and started to run laps. It was extremely noisy, but I wasn’t in the mood to care.

I focused solely on the mechanics of running in order to clear my mind. Nonetheless, I stopped long before I was winded. It so happened that not focusing on my new gender status allowed a quiet feeling of contentment to spread through me. Normally such satisfaction was the best part of exercise, but this time, I turned it away like I would an old friend, ashamed to be in its company. The last thing I wanted right now was to start feeling better.

Determined to be miserable, I slumped onto the floor, figuring the bed would be too comfortable. I probably would have fallen asleep like that if not for a knock on the door. For a second my heart fluttered in relief, but after the third knock the door opened just enough to admit a dinner plate and a glass of water before closing again.

Does she really think I’m in the mood to eat right now? I thought, though my belly repeatedly contradicted me on that point. I let the plate sit for at least twenty minutes. When I finally justified feeding myself, I noticed a small note next to the celery.

Aron, I know you probably don’t want to eat right now, but please do. If so, I promise not to bother you. Luna will patrol your dreams to ensure the stallion does not enter them. If you want to talk, touch your horn to the note. If not, pleasant dreams.

Celestia

I was going to eat anyway, I thought to myself.

Taking a shiny red apple in my mouth, I twisted the stem off by putting in between my hooves. As I bit down on the fruit, a sweet taste filled my mouth. I let the bite sit on my tongue for a moment as I soaked in the flavor. It was truly the perfect apple. Looking down on my plate, I noticed it was almost entirely fruits and vegetables save for a single slice of wheat bread. Not only were there no sweets, but it was also devoid of hay or other pony foods. It was a subtle gesture that didn’t go unappreciated.

Unfortunately, the surprisingly good apple proved only a temporary distraction, and for the rest of the meal I partook in mindless eating. That left only the note…

I probably stared at it for the better part of an hour. Emotionally, I really didn’t want to be around anyone at the moment. Yet given my depressed state and my already frayed patience, I was especially vulnerable to boredom. I knew almost immediately that I would eventually cave, but I didn’t want to come off as needy.

The second the clock struck six, I touched my horn to the note.

To my surprise nothing happened. Nervously I sat up on my haunches and tried to put a blank expression on my face as I stared at the door.

Still nothing.

Eventually, I began to have reservations.

Did she trick me? I wondered. It would make sense if the note wasn’t magical; she was simply planning on seeing me all along. Just as I started to become perturbed, I finally heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” I said faintly.

After trying to decipher my expression, the first thing she did was to check the plate.

“Thank you for eating.”

I nodded.

Silence draped over the room. Part of me wanted her gone, but simultaneously that possibility worried me. Yet, still no words came to me.

What could I say that wasn’t trite or obvious? Celestia didn’t volunteer anything but instead she curled her body around mine, just distant enough to avoid fur contact.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said after five minutes. “You caught me right at sunset.”

In my state, I didn’t bother trying to make sense of that.

Ten more minutes passed, and I figured the onus was now on me to speak.

“Sorry to trouble you,” I said. “I didn’t know what I was expecting or what I wanted.”

She was the ruler of a nation. It wasn’t like she had time she could waste just waiting around for me.

“It’s all right,” she said simply. “It’s perfectly understandable to want company, even if you don’t want to talk.”

Without realizing it, I started to lean into her.

“It’s not like women are inferior,” I mumbled.

“Hmm?”

“We were always told that on the battlefield males and females were equal.”

“That’s good…” she said hesitantly. “I thought otherwise.”

Since their females were the privileged gender, I almost wanted her to ask exactly what the problem was, but she was hardly that tactless.

“You’re not entirely wrong,” I said softly, now that I was obliged to finish the thought. “It comes with a condition.”

“What condition is that?” she asked obligingly.

“To be truly equal, women have to suppress their nature. Males are better suited to life on Rhod—they’re hardier, more emotionally stable and, all things equal, better soldiers. Women, however, are born more nurturing, more fragile. Because of this, being female is seen as a burden. However, since no one can choose how they are born, the stigma isn’t in being female; rather, it’s being feminine that’s frowned upon.”

Celestia said nothing, opting to stroke my back with a wing. I flinched her touch though, and she immediately stopped.

After another long pause she finally spoke: “Nopony is going to require you act feminine.”

“How can you be sure!?” I shouted, voice cracking. “This accursed world has already made me act more like a child. What’s stopping it from changing my brain into a filly’s?” It was a question I had asked many ways before, but I was still looking for a solid answer.

I looked up at Celestia. She had a contemplative look on her face. “Aron, I won’t pretend that it’s not a possibility. Psychologically and physiologically fillies are different from colts. To start, fillies tend to be more hyperactive, more social and more attentive to detail.” I sighed. “But there’s equally a case to be made that the individual’s core personality remains the same. Do you know of Camicaze the Conqueror?”

I nodded.

“He was already a pugnacious individual upon arriving in Equestria—and cunning too. His culture was even more warlike than yours. Since we had no way of returning him to his dimension, Luna and I… it wasn’t our proudest moment, but we accelerated his transformation.”

“You did what!?”

“You have every right to find this objectionable. It’s no excuse, but we were younger and less wary back then.”

I stood up and looked her straight in the eye. “Of course it’s no excuse! What were you thinking!?”

Celestia looked down. “He was twice my size back then and had venomous fangs. We were afraid he would harm our ponies, but we still couldn’t conscience preemptively locking him up. So we were hoping that helping him integrate with Breezy society would be the happiest outcome for him and for us.”

I stared at her, incredulous.

“It was naïve, to say the least. Breezies are peaceful creatures, so we thought that because he was outwardly less aggressive this had changed him. In reality, he was merely afraid of us, being now on the wrong side of the size disparity. We tried integrating him with a tribe of migrating breezies, but he realized very quickly that these were creatures he could bully. And the rest is history…”

I hadn’t stopped staring at her. “Is this supposed to make me feel better? Because all I got out of it was that you and Luna were really irresponsible.”

They let me forget they’re royalty at times. When did I become so casual with them?

“We don’t dispute this. A string of happy outcomes had impaired our objectivity. But, no, what I’m trying to say is that who you really are won’t change. Your personality and ultimately your choices will define who you become.”

“Camicaze didn’t get turned into a little girl,” I said, exasperated.

“And had that been the case I can only imagine how cruel he would have become to compensate. Aron, no matter what somepony’s magical signature says, ponies change over time. I’m not suggesting you dive headlong into being a filly, but you can’t close yourself off completely to change. You may not realize it, but you are growing as an individual.”

I waved her off with a hoof. “How much of that growth is because of my magical signature? Even without it, I think this world’s rubbing off on me.”

“I like to think of it as you growing in order to adapt to your environment.”

I broke eye contact. The conversation had turned into her preaching to me.

“I’m going to bed,” I abruptly announced, taking a running start to leap onto the bed. I grabbed a corner of the sheets with my mouth and navigated my way under the covers. Being so small, I liked to pin myself between the pillows. Otherwise, I felt somewhat exposed.

Without asking, Celestia straightened the sheets with magic and tucked me in. “Sweet dreams, my little pony.”

The next morning, I awoke feeling very refreshed.

Then I remembered I was a filly.

My mood didn’t immediately sour, but I felt shell-shocked over what had happened. Tentatively, I took a look at myself in the mirror. Aside from what the princesses had pointed out yesterday, I didn’t look that different. Other than the obvious, the only thing I noticed were slightly wider hips. Tossing my bangs to the side, I was briefly amused by how my long mane flipped up as I moved my head from side to side. A slightly longer mane didn’t really bother me, but the eyelashes really stood out. They were like the cherries on top that confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt what I now was. Blinking them, I sighed.

I heard a rapping.

“Come in,” I said, unenthused.

I had been expecting Celestia herself, but to my slight relief it was Star Chart. If she was shocked by my altered appearance, she didn’t show it.

“Good morning, Aron.”

“Hello, Star,” I said casually. “How was the zoo?”

“Oh, Trusty told you about that? Yeah, it was my mom’s first time in Canterlot and she really loves animals, so it was a good bonding experience. I was surprised I enjoyed it as much as I did. If you want, I could take you sometime.”

I nodded. “That would be interesting actually,” I said. “Rhod doesn’t have many animals.”

Star stepped closer to examine me. I suppose it was the elephant in the room, so I shouldn’t have been too surprised.

“Really?” Star said. “You got a hooficure as part of your transformation?”

That’s what she asks about?

“Apparently,” I said in my colt voice. “Do you know why?”

Star nodded. “Most mares tend to take better care of their hooves, while stallions usually like a more rugged look. Between that and the longer mane, I’d guess it’s trying to catch you up with other fillies.”

Other fillies… those words stung.

“So shiny hooves are a girl thing here?”

“It’s not unheard of for stallions to partake as well, but yes.”

“Oh…” I had actually kind of liked how they looked, but now I couldn’t admit it.

“Anyway, the princesses wanted me to invite you to breakfast with them. If you want to that is.”

“All right,” I said only a little reluctantly, allowing Star to lead me to the kitchen and through the hidden passage.

When we arrived, I was greeted by the smiles of the two sisters.

“Thank you, Star,” Luna said as the pegasus bowed out.

I took my seat, and we sat in silence waiting for the food to arrive.

“Did you sleep well?” Luna asked.

“Yes, thank you.’

As quiescence fell over the room, I took relief in the princesses having just as much trouble as I was figuring out how to comport themselves.

“Where’s Cadance?” I finally asked.

“She was only here for the day,” Celestia explained. “Wallflower, however, opted to extend her stay. Twilight is here but she’s with her friends in another wing of the castle. That’s actually what I wanted to talk about.” A server entered carrying milk, jam and bread. “Thank you, Plum.” The earth pony bowed.

I took a bite of toast and motioned for her to continue.

“Rainbow Dash was already here to help us locate you, but the four others arrived by train yesterday evening. “We told them that the crisis had been averted, but they wanted to try and comfort you.”

“Why?” I asked sharply. “I don’t need ponies feeling bad for me.”

“It’s not that,” Luna said. “Neither is it a matter of trying to make you accept how you now are.”

Celestia levitated a glass of milk to her mouth and took a big gulp. I imitated her action through more conventional means and sighed in satisfaction. Milk was truly one of the greatest delicacies of this world.

“Of course, you don’t have to meet with them, but it would mean a lot to them if you would. In any case, I won’t allow you to spend another day alone in your room.”

I polished off my milk. “What exactly do they want to do with me?”

“I believe it involves fun,” Luna said.

I stared at my toast. I didn’t really have any plans. Besides, I felt obligated by the fact that they had stayed for my sake.

“I’ll do it,” I finally said, spreading jam on the bread. “It may be this foal body, but I could really go for a diversion right now.”

“Come on! This way! Hurry!” Rainbow urged.

Even had she walked, I would have struggled to keep up with a bigger pony’s strides. With her flying ahead, I was completely winded in a vain pursuit. Apparently, Twilight’s group wanted to take turns with me, so they had drawn straws.

As she alighted next to me, I panted and sat on my haunches. “So… you still… haven’t told me… where we’re… going.”

“You’ll see in a minute,’ Dash said, excited.

“You’re sure it’s nothing girly?”

“Pffft. That’s more of Rarity’s thing. Trust me: it will be awesome!”

After a few more blocks of walking, we came to a strange area mostly devoid of buildings. What was in front of us was a fenced-in green space that was several times the area of the guards’ practice field. Looking for clues, I noticed there was a break in the fence for a clubhouse and that there were flags scattered along the grass.

“Really? Golf?” I asked, trying to hide my disdain. On Rhod golf was an indulgence that had long been banned as a needless waste of resources.

“As if!” Dash said. “Golf’s barely even a sport. I have something more challenging in mind. Follow me!”

I let her lead me around the perimeter of the enclosed space until we came to an alternative entrance. I tried to get a glimpse of what was in store beyond the fence, but some tall trees obscured the view. We went inside, and the first thing I noticed were half-dozen trophy cases filled to the brim. Posted at regular intervals on the walls were handwritten lists detailing ponies’ names and times. I held back my questions for the moment and walked alongside Dash to the counter. Sitting behind it was a brown earth pony mare, her short red mane in a ponytail atop her head.

“Welcome,” she said cordially. However, upon looking down at me, a big smile came to her face.

“Why hello there, little one. Are you running the course today with your mom?”

“What do you mean ‘mom?’” Dash said, offended. “I’m only fifty-seven!”

The mare looked away, bashful. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Miss. I just thought that your coat colors were similar, and well—you’re sisters then?”

“No,” I said weakly, waving my hooves in front of me.

“She’s an exchange student,” Dash explained. “I volunteered to show her my favorite spot in the city.” She put some bits on the counter. “One adult and one child for an hour please.”

“Of course, Miss. Here you are.” Dash held her hoof up to the counter and the mare tied a green strap around it. Dash then grabbed me by the neck and hoisted up to eye level with the mare, letting her do the same with my hoof. “That’s all you need. Enjoy!” The clerk then pushed a button to unlock the turnstile and I followed Dash outside.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but my eyes went wide upon catching sight of the facilities. It was a winding obstacle course with six different lanes. Immediately in front of me was a net slanted upwards at a forty-five degree angle, going to the top of a wooden wall. Next was a rolling log above a small moat, and beyond that were some elevated pegs.

Dash nudged me in the ribs. “Pretty cool, huh? You think you’re up to it?”

My eyes glimmered at the challenge. “I can’t wait.”

A black and white stallion blew his whistle and after finishing their current lap, the six ponies running the course exited the grounds. Excited, I crouched down at the starting line as a few other ponies with green wristbands joined us. Upon hearing the second whistle, I broke into a gallop. I was halfway to the net before I realized how challenging a running up a net would be with my tiny hooves. I smiled and accelerated towards the net anyway.

Hopping on the net, I had to carefully aim all four hooves onto the solid part. Confidently, I stepped in between the holes and ascended gradually towards the top.

“Wow! You’re doing great!” Dash praised, effortlessly climbing alongside me. “I thought you would climb the net using the hoofholds.

I smirked. The idea hadn’t even occurred to me. I was one step away from the top when my left rear hoof fell straight through the net. I nearly tumbled over backwards but reflexively reversed my momentum by grabbing the roping and pulling myself up on the platform.

“Good save!” Dash cheered, but neither of us took a breather.

Balancing myself precisely, I sprinted across the log. It shifted slightly under me with each step, but I directed every hooffall to counteract its rolling. I made it across surprisingly smoothly, Dash beating me by a nose. Next we jumped down some steps and faced a field of elevated wooden pegs. For this obstacle, my small size was to my advantage, as I could balance my whole body on a single peg. Rainbow had to put each hoof a different peg as she hobbled across them. As such, I was able to jump across in a fairly straight line. Next came a rock wall which I navigated with ease. We then had to swing across another moat on a rope, which required a galloping start. I barely made it and shocked by my success, I forgot to jump off when above the other platform, requiring me swing back and forth an extra time.

To return us to ground level, we sped down a series of slides. There were then some stepping stones, which proved to be just an easier version of the pegs. For the home stretch we had to race across a dirt track and clear five hurdles, each taller than the last. Fortunately, my lane had been adjusted to a smaller height, but they were still the most difficult part of the course. From there, all that was left was galloping across the finish line.

Brain and body soaring on a runner’s high, I looked to Dash. “So, what now?”

She looked to me with a determined expression. “Same thing, only faster!”

“Now that I’ve been through it once, do you want to race?”

She flashed me a cocky grin. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, now.”

Her grin grew. You’re on!”

As we reentered the castle through a side staircase, I briefly remembered how I had staggered awkwardly down those same stairs. It was strange: quadrupedal motion had become so natural to me that such difficulties seemed like ancient history. Out of the corner of my eye, I admired the purple ribbon stuck to the front of my barrel. Despite everything I had been through in the last twenty-four hours, for a moment, I had been happy. It was a fleeting, guilty happiness, but undeniably happiness.

“So what did you think? Pretty cool, right?”

“Yeah, I liked it,” I said—a striking understatement.

As she turned her head towards me, her gaze demanded more. “Pretty good idea, right?”

“Yes, that’s what I just said.”

“I know, but say it like you mean it!” She pointed at the ribbon. “Still, I know you trained to fight on your homeworld, but I didn’t expect you to be such an athlete!”

“It’s nothing much,” I said. “I only got seventh place for my age group.”

“But that’s all time! And you’re the only unicorn in the top ten! In a unicorn city!”

“I guess…”

Reaching our destination floor, Rainbow stood above me on the last step and put a hoof on my withers. “You don’t have to guess anything—that was awesome!”

I was quiet, not used to getting so much praise. For most my life I had just kept my head down and done what was expected of me; if I did everything right, I wouldn’t hear from anyone.

“So who’s next, anyway?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Fluttershy,” Dash replied, leading me to a lounge area of the fifth floor. Twilight and her four friends were sitting around, chatting.

“Welcome back,” Twilight said, the four others greeting us in succession.

“Oh my, dear your mane is a mess,” Rarity said, magicking a brush from somewhere to comb my mane. I wanted to object, but it was strangely soothing so I let it slide. “Rainbow Dash, you aren’t trying to turn her into a rough and tumble tomcolt, are you?”

Rainbow snorted. “Aron already liked getting physical. I’m just giving her what she wants.”

Rarity looked at me, and I made a point of smiling fondly at Rainbow.

“I’ll guess I’ll just have to wait my turn, then,” Rarity said with a sigh.

I don’t like the sound of that.

Fluttershy nervously ambled towards me. “Umm… I just wanted to say… thank you. I know you didn’t mean to use love magic, but Wallflower—she’s really happy, so umm thank you.”

I nodded. In truth, her gratitude only served to remind me of the trauma of yesterday. “You’re welcome, I suppose. I’m just glad that some good came out of it. Trusty’s probably over the moon as well.”

She started to walk down the hall. “Umm… I know my turn won’t be as exciting as Rainbow’s, but follow me… please.”

I did so, and she led me towards the center of the castle and down some more stairs. I found it amusing that Rainbow had brought me all the way up to the fifth floor only to go back down, but this whole day didn’t strike me as particularly well-planned. To further my amusement at the situation, the pegasus brought me all the way back down to the ground floor. We cut across the main hall, and at first I thought we were headed to the throne room. However, we missed that turn and made our way towards the back of the castle, soon exhausting my familiarity with the topology.

‘“Here we are,” Fluttershy said abruptly, opening a pair of French doors to reveal a luscious garden. Stepping outside, I admired my surroundings in the late morning sun. There was such a pleasing variety of plant life that I found myself drawn in by the color. Despite having never eaten a flower before, I found myself slightly tempted by this vegetation.

The mare slowly came to my side and inhaled deeply. I mimicked her and found myself bombarded by a cornucopia of smells, far beyond that which my human nose would have been able to pick up. After a few minutes of standing around, my limited attention span expired.

“So, what did you bring me here for?” I asked bluntly.

Fluttershy flinched. “Umm… wait please. And umm… stay quiet… if you don’t mind.”

“Okay…” I whispered.

I looked around some more, got bored and resorted to shuffling my hooves. Just when I was about to question the point of this exercise, Fluttershy nudged me with wing.

“Look.”

Three bluebirds landed on a bush close to us.

“Why hello, little birdies. It’s so nice to see you again,” Fluttershy said, scattering some bread crumbs from inside her saddlebags.

The birds fluttered to the ground and pecked greedily at the offering. Once they were finished eating, Fluttershy held out a hoof, and one of the birds landed on it.

“I’d like to you to meet Aron. Say hi.”

The birds turned to me, and each tweeted exactly once before focusing once more on Fluttershy.

“Don’t be shy. Come on out everybody.”

I heard a rustling and a few rabbits came out from under a nearby hedge. A small garden snake slithered over it as well. From a nearby tree, a squirrel and a raccoon joined us. Finally, a dozen multicolored birds flew down to round out the group.

“Don’t worry there’s some for everyone,” Fluttershy said lovingly, distributing more breadcrumbs.

“So what should I be doing?” I finally asked.

“Oh, um…. You can try feeding them too.”

Having nothing else to do, I reached into her bags, pulled out some breadcrumbs and scattered them.

The animals just stared.

“Now, now. Don’t be shy,” Fluttershy coaxed.

Warily, the animals approached me. The squirrel in particular glared at me before beginning to eat.

I awkwardly stood over them, watching. Every couple seconds they would look up to see if I had moved.

“They don’t seem to like me, Fluttershy, so don’t force it.”

Fluttershy looked taken aback. “I’m sure that’s not the reason. Why wouldn’t they like you? They probably just haven’t warmed up to you yet. Here, Mr. Snake why don’t you let Aron hold you?”

“Fluttershy, I don’t think this is a good idea…”

“Just be gentle and you’ll be fine,” Fluttershy assured me, picking up the snake.

Reluctantly I held out a hoof and let her transfer it to me. The first thing it did was coil around my fetlock, slowly slithering up.

“This isn’t so ba—“

HISS!!!

The snake lunged at me, mouth open. He attacked with such ferocity that I forgot momentarily that he was completely harmless. I staggered backwards and shook the snake off before my momentary panic finally dissipated.

“Now, Mr. Snake, that wasn’t very nice. And, Aron, you could have put him down more gently.”

“Sorry,” I said, feeling like a complete idiot for talking to a snake. It seemed to understand I was talking to it, though, and hissed in response.

Fluttershy stroked the hostile reptile with a wing, and it stretched out in contentment. “There. Aron said she was sorry, so do you have anything to say?”

The snake actually shook its head.

Fluttershy took a deep breath and opened her eyes wide, glaring at the snake. She continued this exercise for several seconds. I didn’t even know if the snake had eyelids, but somehow the mare came out on top in the staring contest. The snake meekly looked at me and flapped its tongue once before retreating behind the other animals.

“I’m sorry that didn’t go well, but there are lots of animal friends here for you to meet.” She gestured towards the mishmash group, but the moment she did, they all scattered. “No, don’t run away. Oh… I’m sorry, Aron, I don’t know why they’re like this.”

I shrugged. “Interacting with animals is your special talent, not mine. It’s only natural that I can’t replicate what you can do with such ease.”

Fluttershy hid behind her bangs. “I guess I thought that because you’re going to be an alicorn that they would trust you… That was a really dumb thing to think."

“I’m actually relieved that’s not the case. I already get too much attention for what I’m slated to become.”

Chirping, one of the bluebirds showed itself again. Fluttershy held out her hoof for it to land on. The bird sang a soft song, and the pegasus pony listened attentively. “Oh, I see… thank you for telling me.”

The bird tweeted one last time and flew off.

“What was that about?” I asked, curious.

“Oh… umm… she said that something about you just feels wrong—unnatural was the word she used.”

Could it be that they sense my magical signature is wrong? But then why can’t ponies detect it?

“Thanks for trying, Fluttershy, but caring for animals just isn’t my thing.”

As if to challenge that notion, Philomena then flew out of a high window and perched herself on my back.

Fluttershy beamed. “Philomena seems to like you. She never got that comfortable with me when I was taking care of her.”

“Yeah, I wonder why.” Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that I had bailed out her feathery rear two times in three days.

“Here,” Fluttershy said, handing me a soft-bristled red brush from her saddlebags. “This is a fireproof brush made especially for phoenixes. Why don’t you try brushing her?”

Hesitantly, I took the brush. “Do birds even need to be brushed? Wouldn’t that mess up their feathers?”

Fluttershy shook her head. “Actually, birds can enjoy it just like anypony else. You’ll do great; just use small strokes.”

My excuse gone, I started to brush the phoenix, who actually made a sort of cooing noise in response. For the next half-hour Fluttershy guided me through how to take care of Philomena—feeding her, preening her, even teaching her to fly through hoops. Much smarter than anypony else knew, I’m sure Philomena she was giggling internally at this charade. All in all, the experience felt like I was spoiling the phoenix.

It was a slow half-hour.

Sitting on a picnic blanket by the practice fields, I drummed my hooves on the ground.

“Well, ah don’t reckon I have anything excitin’ prepared like Rainbow or Fluttershy and her animals, but ah figured ah could still treat you to some good ol’ fashioned Apple family hospitality. An’ what better way to do that than some homemade apple pie?”

I stared down at the steaming pie and swallowed. It would be hard to turn her down.

“I really appreciate the effort, but I don’t really like sweets.”

Applejack chuckled in a homely manner. “Now, Sugarcube, Princess Celestia told me you were a mite stubborn about eating your sugar. But then again, you’ve never had Apple family cooking before! Why this here recipe has been passed down the Apple line for generations!”

I sat perfectly still.

She wafted the fumes towards me. “At least smell it.”

It did smell heavenly. I could almost taste the heightened apple flavor already. I suppose, it was either this or be forced to have my sugar with dinner.

“Maybe just a slice…”

“That’s the spirit!” Applejack cheered, slicing a thin piece for me.

I brought it to my muzzle, opened my mouth and bit down. It tasted even better than it had smelled—the perfect mix of apple juiciness with a subtle touch of tartness. It almost felt like a shame to swallow, so I just let it sit on my tongue for a while. When the first perfect bite had finished winning me over, a contented look came to my face. I still had a whole pie left!

With zero hesitation I crammed the remainder of the first slice into my mouth. The second bite was even better than the first.

“Thank you, Applejack,” I said with sincerity upon finishing it. “That may have been the best thing I’ve tasted here so far, and that’s really saying something!”

“Aww shucks, Sugarcube. Ah just did how Granny taught me. Why she’s even better at makin’ it than ah am!”

“Really?” I asked. “In that case maybe I’ll have to accept your offer to visit you in Ponyville sometime.”

“We’d love ta have you.”

After Applejack helped me finish the remainder of the pie, she had to improvise something for the rest of our time. She borrowed some supplies from Pinkie Pie and showed off some of her rodeo tricks. Even though most of my conditioning had transferred to my pony body, I was still amazed at what Applejack was able to do. Most notably, she managed to balance on the ball while juggling beanbags, all the while keeping the bowling pin from teetering off her muzzle. Then there were the rope tricks, which were amazing in their own way. They pushed the limits of what I thought possible for ponies to do with their mouth dexterity.

She then attempted to teach me some of the basics of the lasso, but I only managed to tie myself up several times in succession. She tried coaching me, insisting that the trick was to adjust the rope’s spin with my tongue. I attempted it as so, and all I got for my trouble was a taste of rope. My frustration with the task was strangely apparent. Applejack picked up on it, so she suggested a game instead: she would toss a loop of rope at my hooves and I would jump over it in time. At first the lasso cycled fairly slowly, but after a minute she upped the speed significantly, and I had to hop constantly to avoid being tripped.

“You sure enjoyed that, Sugarcube. Now that ah think about it, invitin’ you to skip rope coulda been a mite insensitive.”

I cocked my head in confusion. “Why? What’s wrong with jumping over a rope? It’s a test of agility and coordination.”

“Oh, nuthin’. I think it’s about Pinkie’s turn now.”

My vision suddenly went black and I reflexively jerked away.

“Guess who!”

“Pinkie. What’s the point of asking? You revealed your identity just by asking.”

Pinkie removed her hooves. “I guess you’re right! It is kind of silly. I guess it’s the same as shouting SURPRISE!” She stood on her back hooves and gesticulated with her front hooves. Upon saying it, confetti burst from nowhere.

“Pinkie Pie, you’re so random,” Applejack said fondly. “All right, I’m gonna head back on upstairs. Try not to have too much fun, you two.”

“How could we have too much fun?” Pinkie asked, excitedly. “Ooh I suppose if we have too much fun today, then in the future when we want to have fun, fun won’t be as fun! And that would be no fun! But how much fun is too much fun?

Pinkie Pie picked up a stick in her mouth and found some soft dirt nearby. She drew a parabola and wrote dF/dt=0 and started to quickly do some calculations as Applejack trotted away.

“Aha! I’ve got it.” Pinkie bounced on her hooves. “Too much fun is approximately 3,625 milliparties, which corresponds to an 11.2 on the Pinkie Scale.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’ve actually quantified fun?”

Pinkie smiled broadly. “Of course! How else am I supposed to calibrate my parties to be the funnest around?”

I had a couple of answers to that, but I knew better than to challenge a pony in her area cutie mark expertise, so I let it go.

“So I assume you have a party planned?” I asked, stifling a groan.

“Of course not, Silly Filly.”

I glared.

“Hehe. Sorry. Just an expression. Anyhow, I know you’re not in the mood for a party, so I have something else planned.”

That’s actually pretty considerate of her, I thought to myself, impressed.

“Follow me back inside,” she prompted. Rainbow had been difficult to follow, but keeping pace with Pinkie was an entirely different challenge. The pink mare bounded along quickly, her hooves making a bouncing sound every time she landed. I found myself strangely energetic as I followed her. Even though I had to gallop to keep up, I somehow only felt more energetic as I continued to chase her. My heart was hammering in my barrel and my mind was racing.

Before I knew what had happened, temptation possessed my hooves. I happily bounced along behind her, my brain rattling in my skull with each little hop. Just as quickly I had synced my bouncing with hers and our sproinging sounds joined in harmony. Restless sensations pulsed through me, and I wanted to stop. Yet, my craving for sheer stimulation made it far too fulfilling to do so. After clearing several flights of stairs together, we reached a narrow hallway decorated only with the occasional flowerpot.

“Here we are!” Pinkie announced abruptly, and I quickly put on the brakes. I wasn’t fast enough, though, and I collided with her hind legs.

“Here?” I asked, coming to my senses. “What’s there to do here?”

Pinkie giggled. “We’re going to play a prank!” she announced with glee.

“A prank? What’s that?” I asked, voice jittery.

Pinkie’s smile grew. “You’ll see. Here!” Pinkie thrust a couple of fake plastic flowers into my hooves. “Empty one of those vases and replace the flowers with these.”

“Why?” I asked, completely confused.

“We’re going to play a prank on the maids.”

I shrugged, figuring it would make the most sense just to wait and see. Complying with her instructions, I emptied the nearest vase of its five flowers and replaced it with four plastic ones. Pinkie then waved me behind a corner and we peered around it together.

“What now?”

Pinkie giggled. “You’ll see.” She took a bite out of one of the flowers. “Want to try one?”

“No thanks. I just ate,” I said, grateful for a valid excuse.

Together we clung to the corner for about ten minutes, occasionally looking around it. While we waited, Pinkie devoured the remaining flowers. I briefly thought to try one if they were really that good, but then I remembered that I was already giving into my inner pony a bit too much. As we waited, my hooves tapped on the carpet on their own accord. I was able to will them to a stop momentarily, but they started tapping again as soon as I let my attention drift. Finally, the cream-coated maid with the three flowers cutie mark appeared at the end of the hallway. Pinkie shushed me as she spied on the mare, anticipation building.

As she walked by each flower pot I could faintly hear her counting the flowers as she nodded her head in time. Pinkie’s grin grew as the maid approached our tampered flowerpot. The earth pony counted to four, and she subtly frowned. She readied five replacement flowers from her saddlebags and then turned her attention back onto the fake flowers. Unsuspecting she leaned in and took a bite.

Pinkie burst into laughter as a look of disgust and surprise appeared on our victim’s face. She spat out the flowers and the party pony started rolling on the floor as she giggled widely.

“Surprise!” Pinkie cried out once her laughter had subsided. She stepped out from our hiding place, and I followed.

Once she had taken a moment to recover, the maid chuckled. Regarding me gently, she smiled even more broadly than Pinkie.

“You got me!” She declared. “Was this your idea, Dear?”

“No, it was hers,” I said flatly. “I have no idea what just happened.

“It was a prank,” Pinkie explained.

“You keep saying that, but I don’t know what that means. I get that you deceived her, but what’s the point?”

Pinkie hugged me. “It’s not about deceiving her; it’s about sharing a funny moment together.”

“But I like Flower Power,” I said. “Why would I want to laugh at her?”

“Dear, I understand you’re not laughing at me. It was a funny idea that we can laugh at together!”

I cocked my head, still confused.

“You’ll get it soon enough,” Pinkie said, nudging me. “Come on! Let’s move on to the next prank.”

I followed reluctantly. For the next “prank,” we snuck into the kitchens. The chefs were singing while they chopped up strawberries to use in a muffin mix. Snickering, Pinkie replaced their crate of strawberries with one of red peppers. Oblivious, the ponies continued to chop up the peppers, none the wiser. Meanwhile, I was completely perplexed as to why nopony asked us what we were doing there. When we were spotted, the ponies just waved and went along with their business.

As we were waiting in the cafeteria for the tainted muffins to arrive, I spotted Trusty and Wallflower entering together. They were entranced by one another’s eyes and publicly exchanged kisses.

“Should I warn them?”

“No, Silly. That would ruin the prank.”

“Huh…”

Uncertain, I watched as Trusty’s nostrils started fuming and he desperately flailed around for a glass of water. Many ponies, including Pinkie, laughed at him, but some of their number quickly joined him in his routine as they gullibly sampled their muffins.

It was then that I finally understood the point of this exercise. This is just like what Pestle had done to Annuity and me. Although I was on the other side of the prank this time, I couldn’t see the appeal. After all, I hadn’t liked it when it was done to me. I told Pinkie as much, but she—and even the victims—assured me that it was all good fun.

I still didn’t get it.

It was only when the crash came that it occurred to me that my experience bouncing along with Pinkie Pie was a symptom of a sugar rush. Needless to say, I felt terrible. I wanted nothing more than to just go to bed, but even I thought it would be unfair to Rarity and Twilight. After all, they had probably put just as much effort into their parts.

As I followed Twilight through the secret passageway in the wall, I rubbed my aching head with a hoof, groaning. “You know, I don’t exactly have the best memories of this place.”

“Yes, it was disappointing that I couldn’t unravel the mystery of why Equish exists in your dimension. Although you didn’t strike me as being too invested in the answer…”

I shook my head at her obliviousness. She was incredibly smart, but ponies as a group seemed to have a perplexing tendency to miss the obvious.

“It wasn’t exactly fun having my brain scanned in the name of linguistic research.”

Twilight’s ears drooped. “Maybe I did get a little carried away,” she admitted. “But think of the implications of this fact! Imagine what learning the answer could teach us.”

That doesn’t sound like an apology to me.

I shook my head. “So what are we here for if I’m not the victim?” I asked.

Twilight suddenly stopped at a strange looking metal coil, announcing, “Here we are!”

“It looks like an electrical coil. It’s a—I forget what they’re called. You’re not going to zap me with it, are you?”

“Of course not!” Twilight insisted, taken aback at my accusation. “This is actually a magic jammer.”

“A magic jammer? I can guess what it does, but why do we need one?”

Twilight smiled and extended her wings outward. “Since my goal is for you to have a good time, I thought I would share with you that which I enjoy the most—magic!”

“Why would you want to cast another spell on me? I’ve already had enough bad experiences with magic.”

Twilight took a few steps closer to me and rested a wing of my withers. “I’m not going to do the magic. You are!”

A mixture of fear, joy and anticipation rushed through my head. “How is that any better? Won’t I just surge again if you remove the seal?”

“Aron, the idea may still make you uncomfortable, but you are a pony now. Magic is part of who you are. So far, you have rightfully feared magic because of what it meant for your transformation. However, magic is so much more. It can be a wonderful thing. And as you are currently a unicorn, it is your birthright. Besides, if you know something about magic, you can better control your surges in the future.”

“I understand the principle of knowledge of something allowing me to overcome fear,” I said, wary. “However, I’d rather not take the risk.”

“That’s what this is for,” Twilight said, tapping the device. “If you start to surge I can turn the magic jammer on before it can get out of hoof.”

“Are you sure it will work, though?” In this case, my skepticism wasn’t too strong, but after being told that magic was off-limits for so long, I was somewhat resistant to the idea.

Twilight nodded, appreciating my caution. “I can scan you while you attempt the exercise. If anything is out of the normal, I’ll know immediately.”

“Okay,” I said flatly. It was hard to deny I was a little bit excited. After all, magic was the biggest perk of being a unicorn, and it tempted me like a forbidden fruit. This whole time—especially at the Junior Royal Guards—I had to compensate for my lack of magic. But now., I would finally be able to experience my full potential.

“I’ll start by weakening the seal,” Twilight said, horn glowing. I felt a bit lightheaded as she did, but it soon passed.

The first couple of seconds went by, and I was half-expecting an immediate surge. Once the brief spell of dizziness had passed, I didn’t feel too much different.

“Okay, then. Are you ready to get started?” Twilight asked, enthusiastic.

I nodded.

Twilight’s horn glowed and a stuffed unicorn doll drifted through the air and landed in front of her. “Levitation has been the fundamental proving ground of magical study for thousands of years. Out of all magic, you will use levitation more than any other. While different unicorns have different types of magic proficiency, levitation is universally accessible. It will take years of practice, but someday you will be able to manipulate multiple objects without having to think about it.”

With every word, the idea of using my own magic grew more enticing. I suddenly felt energized, like I had bouncing along with Pinkie. “Where do I start?”

“Try to lift this stuffed pony,” Twilight said simply.

I sighed. “This isn’t going to be one of those things I have to learn that you can’t explain, is it?” I had already had enough of that from Mrs. Fizzle’s critical thinking feedback.

“No, there are several tips I could give you to start out, but we have a unique opportunity here. You have never had any formal magic instruction, so your instinct is completely pure in a sense. So first, I’d like to see how you will attempt to move the doll on your own.

I grinned, wanting nothing more than to fire up my horn. However, caution overruled me for the moment. “What if I destroy the doll on accident?”

“I’ve got dozens of these,” Twilight explained. “They’re practically made to be destroyed.”

Permission granted, I removed my focus crystal from my horn and announced, “Here I go!” I turned my entire focus to the task at hoof, tensing the muscles in my forehead. I tried to think back to how I had managed to fire a magic arrow at Maniacal Laughter in order to mimic the process. The removal of the seal made a world of difference, and I felt a gentle flow course through my horn. I aimed and let the magic loose. To my delight, instead of fraying, the doll jumped several feet in the air before landing gently on its feet.

“I did it!” I cheered.

“That’s very good for your first attempt,” Twilight acknowledged. “However, it’s a habit I’ll have to break you of.”

“What do you mean? I got it to move, right?”

“You did get it to move,” Twilight admitted. “Though how you did it is a flawed method. For one, some objects won’t be able to handle being bombarded directly by your magic and will break. Secondly, it’s a more limited approach since you need to aim directly at your target, meaning it won’t work if there is anything in between.”

“But how else am I supposed to do it?” I asked defensively.

“Don’t feel bad,” Twilight said, picking up on my distress. “Studies show that more than half of unicorn foals use this method before graduating to the resonance method. If you want, you can keep practicing with the emitting method for now.”

I shook my head. “No, I want to do it right. What do I have to do for the resonance method?”

Twilight got a sheepish look on her face. “I’m sorry, but the resonance method is one of those things that can’t be explained too well. As a basic outline, what you have to do is magically sense the object you want to manipulate. You then have to attune your magic to the object. Once your horn and the object are in resonance you will be able to move the object with your mind.”

I paused to think.

“Is it like what I did with magical induction?”

“That’s a good thought, but resonance isn’t quite like induction. For one, induction is about forcing a magical field into another object. Resonance is the opposite in a way—it’s about syncing your own magic to that of the object.”

Mustering my patience, I took a deep breath and asked, “What do I need to do then?”

“What I’m about to teach you takes time and dedication, but if you’re ready I can lead you through a meditation exercise. If you practice it each day, eventually you should start to be able to sense ambient magic. I’m sorry this isn’t more interesting.”

“No, that’s hardly the case,” I said. “If anything, the intensive effort required only makes me want to learn it all the more. Out of curiosity, though, how long did it take you to sense ambient magic?”

“Oh…” Twilight’s expression sunk. “I was kind of a natural. I never had to unlearn the emitting method. I actually figured out resonance when I was five years old.”

My smile grew at the prospect of a challenge. I never was one to shy away from areas I wasn’t good at. To me, it only make mastery all the more satisfying.

Following Twilight’s lead, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. She instructed me to open my mind to my surroundings—start on my body and then expand outward. Unfortunately, focusing on my body only served to remind me of my new gender, but I tried not to be deterred by this. She slowly described our surroundings to me while I kept my eyes closed. Even with my attention to detail, I still found it difficult to reconstruct the room in my mind’s eye. What should have been a slow hour passed relatively quickly. The longer I was able to keep my shortened attention span on task, the more my satisfaction grew, even if I was having relatively little success.

Before I knew it, Twilight announced our time was done.

“But I didn’t even sense anything,” I complained.

Twilight stroked me with a wing. “You did great nonetheless. Most ponies take at least a dozen sessions before they even start to experience imagined magical sensations. Once you reach that point, success is all but inevitable.”

“I didn’t expect magical study to be built on mindfulness,” I commented.

“Other tribes can make fun of unicorns for this. Learning to fly is a very visceral experience for pegasi, and earth magic, while hardly easy, tends to be more methodical in its application.”

“Thank you for teaching me,” I said. “I didn’t realize how much I wanted to learn magic.”

Twilight giggled. “Just as I’ve never met a pegasus that didn’t like flying, most unicorns can’t imagine getting by without their magic. It’s why Celestia and I felt so bad about having to seal you.”

I suddenly felt energized. “While we’re here let’s keep practicing! I want to see if it will really take me a dozen times to start feeling something.”

“Actually, it’s Rarity’s turn now.”

First I frowned then I recoiled upon grasping the implications of this.

“Yoohoo, Darling!” came the voice I dreaded.

“If you want I can have one of the castle mages give you nightly lessons.”

Some of my smile returned as Rarity trotted up to us. I swallowed hard.

“You’re not going to try to put me in a dress, are you?”

Rarity laughed nervously. “Aron dear, I’m hardly that tactless. It’s not like I had the perfect dress picked out, only to come to my senses when Twilight talked me out of it.”

I exhaled in relief.

“Instead I’m going to tell you everything a mare simply must know—secrets known to no stallion passed down from mother to daughter.”

That doesn’t sound so bad, I thought to myself. Unfortunately, it then hit me.

“Wait a minute, by ‘known to no stallion’ do you mean certain details that males would rather not think about?”

Rarity beamed. “Especially the things you didn’t know you wanted to know! Come along now,” Rarity said gripping me by the neck.

Bracing all four hooves on the polished floor, I only succeeded in making a squeaking noise as the fashionista dragged me away.

I pouted.

“You’ve done very well so far, Darling. Now it’s time for a little review quiz. To start, what’s the standard tipping rate?”

“Twenty percent for a hooficure. Fifteen percent for a manecut, with an extra five percent to the stylist for any particularly juicy gossip,” I recited.

“Very good. Now what of dance etiquette?”

“Mares go to the left side of the dance floor, while stallions go to the right side. Customarily the stallions ask the mares to dance, while mares can initiate only for the last song. Curtsy when accepting. It’s impolite to refuse, but don’t tell the stallions that because they’re cute when they’re nervous.”

“Excellent! Now do you recall how to get into the girly part of Canterlot?”

“Go to the third register from the left at Chocolate Nut Emporium in western Canterlot. Mention hoofball to the cashier and receive a voucher for 27% off a perm. Take that voucher to any Mega Mane Extensions location. You will have twenty minutes to take a written test, and if you get at least 70%, you’ll be given a map.

Rarity patted me on the head. “I couldn’t have said it better myself. Question four: how do you invite another mare to be one’s herdmate?”

I sighed. “Order a large cherry sundae with pecans on top and take the first bite. Offer the other mare the spoon. If she uses it, the two of you are now an item for dating purposes and any interested stallion has to commit to both of you.”

“Very good. I have nothing more to teach you.”

I raised an eyebrow at my good fortune. “That’s it? Those are the secrets that no stallion knows?”

“Yes, of course. What were you expecting, Darling?”

I blushed. “Nothing… I guess—I mean, aren’t you going to teach me anything practical? Anything that I’d be able to use?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Let’s say, how to avoid long lines at the bathroom during public events?”

She waved a hoof dismissively. “Oh that. There’s no secret there. You simply have to get there early.”

I took a deep breath. Although bored out of my mind I was no worse for wear. I thanked Rarity insincerely before leaving her company to meet with Celestia and Luna for dinner. The two princesses eyed me expectantly when I entered, and I tried to put the most neutral expression on my face I could manage. Clearly they were expecting something from me, but I honestly didn’t know what to think of the day I had just experienced.

Celestia took a bite of salad, swallowed and started to speak while attending to her face with a magically-held napkin. “We interrogated the Miser today.”

Luna nodded as her sister spoke, wearing an uncertain look.

“How did that go?” I asked, happy to have something else to talk about other than my day.

“It didn’t go anywhere,” Luna said, annoyed. “He said his evil plan was to become rich off his pyramid scheme, but we find it hard to believe that he could develop such an insidious potion and only think to use it for a get-rich-quick scheme. He’s almost certainly lying.”

After taking a bite of salad myself, I considered making a certain suggestion of how to make the pony talk; however, I knew the princesses wouldn’t like it. Still, an equivalent came to mind.

“This may sound dumb since I’m mostly ignorant of magic, but isn’t there a spell to make him tell the truth?”

Celestia shook her head. “No such spell exists. Truth can actually be subjective, so there’s no way to magically compel a pony to tell the truth. The closest we can get is with mind magic. However, while it is possible to weaken a pony’s inhibitions, much as with hypnosis, one cannot get a pony to say anything he or she wouldn’t otherwise volunteer. And even if this method were more reliable, we still would consider it only in truly the most urgent of cases. In the present scenario, the Miser’s threat has passed.”

“I guess magic can’t do everything after all.”

Luna smiled. “That’s one of the most important lessons to learn. I see Twilight has taught you well.”

I rubbed the back of my head with a hoof. “I suppose you want to hear about my day now…”

“Please share,” Celestia prompted. “We’re eager to hear about it.”

The sisters listened thoughtfully as I recounted my day. In short, I had a high opinion of Rainbow, Twilight and Applejack’s sections, while Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie and Rarity’s parts had been disappointments.

“I see. At least you seemed to have some fun. I imagine you thought you wouldn’t have enjoyed any of their activities?”

“I suppose…”

“At the risk of falling into my old habits, did you learn anything from today?” Celestia asked.

I wanted to dismiss her out of hoof, but then I thought back to my time at Squirt’s house. There, I had realized that ponies could come in all types. In a way, Twilight’s friends were illustrative of a similar principle. Though all were mares, in some ways they were more different than alike.

“Not that I believe this,” I began, “but seeing the six of them reinforced the obvious: now that I’m a filly, I will grow up to be a mare like them. The thought occurred to me that since all of them are unique, I won’t have to be a mare in a prescribed way. Although, I can never be a stallion, I can at least choose what kind of mare I’m going to be. For instance, I don’t have to be nurturing like Fluttershy, or a lady like Rarity. I can emulate Rainbow or Twilight and stay truer to myself.”

The sisters’ eyes sparkled.

“Well said,” Luna commented.

“Indeed,” Celestia agreed, “it is a valuable lesson to learn. Though I admit it wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“Really?” I asked, embarrassed. Had I really come up with that sappy lesson all on my own?

“All I wanted was for you to take your mind off being a filly for a little bit. And maybe have you realize that life will go on, and that things don’t have to be different now that you’re a filly.” She gave a knowing smile. “Of course, I like your lesson better, and you are still free to learn it if you want.”

I pouted again.

Stupid motherly white horse thing...

Author's Note

Sorry for the delay. I had some reservations about this chapter; namely I was concerned that it might be a bit too light to follow last chapter. Hopefully my attempt to avoid angst didn't result in fluff.

Chapter 21

“There. All done,” Star said, gently putting down the scissors.

I blinked. “This seems ridiculous. Won’t everypony instantly know I’m a filly?”

“They will if you talk like that,” she rebuked.

I cleared my throat. “Sorry. I let my guard down yesterday.”

“Hey, don’t apologize to me. It’s your life,” she emphasized.

I looked her in the eye expecting scorn, but I found compassion instead. “I—never mind.”

“What is it?”

“I mean, I wanted to ask if you disapprove. Trying to hide it I mean.”

She shook her head deliberately. “I completely understand. I don’t know how I’d handle announcing something like that to ponies I know—especially to children.”

“So what other choice is there than to hide it?” I asked.

“Transfer you to a different school and introduce you as a filly.”

I cringed. It seemed like a more watertight suggestion, so I reached for any flaw I could find with the idea.

“What if someone recognizes me?”

I mentally cursed as I remembered the ring.

“That’s one flaw with the idea. But we decided that preserving the relationship you have with your classmates and teacher was the most important thing. Although Princess Celestia doesn’t want you with another secret on your withers, I persuaded her to let you try it out today.

“I assume she told you to tell me this?”

Star nodded. “Why? Are you surprised? My loyalty to her is paramount.”

“You’re right it’s foolish of me. But I secretly kind of hoped you’d hold some of that loyalty towards me…”

“Well there’s one way to transfer that loyalty to you.”

“What’s that?”

“Take the mantle of our newest princess. I’ll be the first to join your guard.”

I must have looked deflated as she began waving her hooves as she started to apologize. “It was just a joke, Aron. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you so harsh all of a sudden?” I asked, slightly bitter at the reminder.

The pony blushed. “I—I don’t do it on purpose. Sometimes my words just come out wrong.”

I shuffled my hooves. This side of Star always perplexed me. It reminded me of my sister in a way—she had an entirely different personality outside of her job.

“Are you ready?” Star asked.

“To be laughed at? Sure.”

“Come on, Aron, you haven’t even seen yourself yet.

Skeptical, I trotted over to the mirror. My reflection took me aback.

“Well I’ll be… you’re right.”

Somehow, trimming my eyelashes made me look much more masculine.

“You sure you don’t want me to trim your mane?” She spun the scissors in her hooves “I promise you I won’t do a mom job.”

“No, I’m okay. I kind of like how it feels. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I grew my hair out to play Celestia.”

Star looked like she was holding back from saying something. I didn’t know what that could be. Long hair wasn’t inherently feminine. I think there were warriors from a bygone era—long-haired Achaeans.

“All right, then. The Junior Royal Guards should be starting soon.”

I swallowed hard, and then I felt Star’s hoof on my back.

“You’ll be fine. Let me let you in on a secret: we ponies aren’t known for our attention to detail. The eyelashes were probably the only thing that would have given it away.”

“What about my muscle tone? This body is completely different.”

“That’s incredibly subtle. You’re only able to feel it because of your incredible body control and awareness.”

“I guess… but it feels so obvious to me.”

Star hugged me. “Either way you will be fine. If you get found out, just insist that you’ve always been a filly. They may find it hard to believe, but there’s no way they can prove you wrong. Most ponies would probably be more apologetic than anything else. You can then choose to stay at Canterlot First, or if it’s too much you can transfer out. You’ve got options no matter what.”

Just because I had options didn’t mean any of them were particularly appealing. Deciding not to voice this, I gave Star a complacent nod as she released me.

“By the way, there’s one more thing you should be aware of,” Star added.

“That doesn’t sound good…”

“It’s nothing big. I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

“Fine. What is it?”

“Well, in order to perfect your cover story Princess Celestia decided to create a real exchange program based out of the castle. Ponies all across Equestria applied, and Princess Celestia somehow whittled that pool down to about a dozen. The first of them should be arriving today.”

I shrugged. It was better news than I was expecting. “Is there a catch? I mean, you probably want me to try and be friends with them, but if I’m not interested, will it really affect me?”

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but Princess Celestia worries about your safety a lot, Aron. You’ve already attracted the attention of some of the nobles, who wonder why Princess Celestia is paying so much attention to an exchange student she suddenly decided to put up. By inviting more “real” exchange students, you’ll be able to blend in.”

“I mean it makes sense,” I said, not knowing what to expect.

“If anypony asks, you need to tell them that you’ve been receiving friendship lessons from Princess Celestia.”

I grimaced.

“We need to explain the time you spend with the princesses somehow.”

I shook my head. “I’ll deal with this later,” I said. “It seems like more of a hassle than anything else.”

Star put a hoof on my back as I turned to leave.

“Just one more thing I promise. Starting next weekend, the Princess is going to host weekly events for all of her exchange students. She wants you to join in.”

“Fine,” I grumbled, shuffling towards the door.

“Really? That easily?”

“Maybe it’ll give me something to do on the weekend for once. Besides, it’s not like I have any choice...”

“You don’t have to…”

“Really? Then how will you explain it if I don’t participate?”

“Well…”

“Exactly.” I inched closer to the door.

“Aron, I—we… I’m sorry that it feels like you don’t have choices at times. The princesses want what’s best for you, but that’s no excuse for ignoring your wishes. I just wish I wasn’t so powerless…”

“It’s not your fault, Star. Don’t worry about it.” Honestly, just having someone acknowledge my lack of autonomy was something of a relief.

“I don’t know how, but I’ll make it up to you, Aron. I have a couple of ideas to start with.”

I finally crept out of the room, without answering. I didn’t expect much to come from it, but a cautious optimism wasn’t completely unwarranted.

Surprisingly I was early to the meeting. Thaumaturgical wasn’t there, so I decided to talk to the Swirl twins. For some reason, they looked like they were trying not to stare, but soon we built up a pleasant rapport. I don’t know why, but they thanked me for helping Squirt earn his cutie mark.

“But I didn’t do anything,” I said. “I wasn’t even a part of the discussion.”

“Don’t tell him we told you this, but Squirt likes you quite a bit,” Coffee said.

“That’s news to me,” I said, confused.

“Squirt liked hanging out with you the other day. In his words, you made writing that song ‘almost bearable,’” Latte said.

Reading my mind Coffee added, “The reason we’re thanking you is because having a kindred spirit around helped Squirt realize what he most valued. And apparently he has a special talent for being a skeptic.”

“Hang on. I thought it was rude to interpret other ponies’ cutie marks?”

“We’re family so that makes it more acceptable,” Coffee said.

“Also, what we’re sharing is Squirt’s own interpretation of his cutie mark, and that’s generally okay,” Latte explained.

Coffee smiled. “One more thing: it’s supposed to be taboo to interpret other ponies’ marks, but in reality, it’s something everypony does all the time.”

Wait, why are they…

“Anyway we have to go set up now. But feel free to let us know if there’s anything we can ever help you with, Aron.” The twins winked and trotted away. It took me a full second to register what they had just revealed.

Gradually, more familiar foals started to file in. For some reason many were staring or laughing.

“Hello. You must be new!”

I flinched at the voice before jerking around to face the vermillion filly. I didn’t know if she had gotten bigger or if I had shrunk, but somehow Bulwark looked more massive than usual.

“No, I’m not new,” I said, emphasizing my colt voice, which cracked. I quickly coughed to cover it up.

“Oh, my mistake,” Bulwark said. “I wasn’t here last session so I must have missed you. So, what brings you to the Junior Royal Guards?”

Star, you were wrong. She doesn’t even recognize me! What do I do?

Indecision gripped me. If I looked so different that she didn’t even recognize me, wouldn’t announcing that I was River Glade make it obvious what had changed?

“It’s always nice to see another earth pony. You know, we aren’t exactly common here in Canterlot. We should be friends!”

My blood turned to ice. I had never faced pressure quite like this before. One wrong move would compromise me, and I would publicly be a filly. Forever.

Bulwark didn’t seem discouraged at all by my silence. “Do you have anypony you like?”

“I… no—what do you mean?”

She smiled sweetly. “Well, I should let you know that River Glade is off-limits. He may not look like much, but he’s really strong and cool. I like him a lot!”

I blushed.

Bulwark laughed. “My, I’m getting ahead of myself aren’t I? I haven’t even gotten your name yet and here I am starting with the girl talk. I should probably look at your cutie mark before anything else… RIVER!?”

I recoiled.

“I—what? You… You dyed your coat?”

I let out a sigh of relief. So that was it. I had been so consumed by the big change that I hadn’t even realized my filly colors were new to the Junior Royal Guards. Bulwark, meanwhile, had turned completely red and was still blubbering.

“This is so embarrassing! I—I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. I tried to drop little hints, and I thought I was doing a pretty good job at being subtle…”

I raised an eyebrow. Her whole future husband talk is what ponies would consider subtle?

Though I recognized how embarrassing this situation should have been, I was so relieved at my secret remaining intact that I felt immune to any of the awkwardness. Unfortunately, my lack of reaction only flustered Bulwark more. Nervously, she started to rub her front hooves together.

“I—I suppose I have no choice now. Since I all but spelled it out, I guess I should confess now. Umm.. River, I really do like you. Sparring with you makes my heart race, and I feel so challenged—so alive. I just wish you didn’t have to find out this way. Why did you dye your coat, anyway? You look so much like a filly.”

“A filly put a color change potion in the drinking fountain. It was a ‘prank’ and I was ‘collateral damage.’”

“Don’t worry, though,” I blurted out. “I already knew you liked me.”

I wanted to dispense with the illusion that she had at all been subtle. The pony obliviousness game wasn’t one I wanted to entertain any time soon. Apparently, it was the worst thing I could have said, though.

“You mean you already knew!?”

“Yes…” I replied, tentative.

“Oh. Well…” she sniffed. “I know how to take a message; I know when I’m not wanted. If you care that little about me I’ll just have to move on… Sorry for not taking the hint.” Tears started to well up in her eyes and I felt my heart flutter.

Even though her mood swing was a bit extreme, I still felt my heartstrings being pulled by such a display of emotion. On an instinctual level, her sadness seemed to resonate within in me, and I almost joined her in tears.

“It’s—it’s not that,” I comforted. “I don’t hate you.” The reassurances flowed out of me reflexively.

Bulwark’s lip started quivering. “No, it’s my fault. I was too obvious. I should have realized you knew and that you weren’t interested. I mean, I’m older than you, so that’s a bit weird. Besides, you’d probably prefer a more feminine filly...”

Where is she getting all of this?

“You’re making too much of this,” I said placatingly. “I don’t hate you I just… wasn’t sure what to do…”

“If that was true, then why didn’t you tell me?” she sniffed. “Instead you just let me continue to make a fool of myself trying to get your attention.”

The surging empathy refused to abate. I felt her pain as mine, and I wanted to say whatever I could to get her to stop.

“I was going to ask you to hang out. I was just… shy…”

I had never seen a pony’s expression turn around so drastically in a single instant. With tears still staining her cheeks, she flashed me her biggest smile.

“Really?”

The second she asked I knew I had messed up. However, at the same time, I felt an intense pressure to not dash her happiness.

“Yeah... it’s true.”

I mean I was technically telling the truth, even if I was in no hurry to jump through courtship hoops.

“Are you doing anything after our session today?”

“Not really?”

“Great! I’m free then too. Let’s hang out then!”

“Wait, what?”

Bulwark’s expression became uncertain and she looked downcast.

“Fine,” I relented

She sort of danced in place before pumping a hoof. “Let’s meet at Kindred Spirits Park. I have to run home for a few things. I can’t wait! I can’t wait! I can’t wait!”

Fortunately, Stepping Stone interjected by calling everypony to assemble, saving me from having to respond. Still, as he took roll, Bulwark would occasionally turn back and wink at me. From other angles, there was also the occasional snicker.

“What do you all find so funny, now?” Stepping Stone roared. It would have been intimidating, but somehow the earth pony’s gentle nature shone through even in anger.

“It’s probably me and River,” Zap answered, combing her faded green mane. “A filly at school named Pestle pranked us with a dye potion. I kind of like trying out another mane color. What about you, River?”

“Uhh… yeah?”

Satisfied with this explanation—or perhaps because Zap had more influence than I thought—the foals of the group stopped laughing. I allowed myself a cautious smile. Despite nearly everypony staring at me, nopony had noticed. I considered that maybe the color change had worked in my favor by serving as a decoy. Committing this possibility to memory, I concluded that I would need to give my colt colors a test run before assuming my secret would be safe at school.

The good news was that there was no sparring today, so I was able to avoid Bulwark. But it just so happened that the exercises the guards taught us were downright scintillating. I was hanging onto every word as Stepping Stone explained how I could use these exercises to get stronger. Even though Star had taught me some of this stuff already, Stepping Stone provided new insight into what muscle groups were fundamental to ponies. I soaked in the knowledge and tried to visualize the muscles as we worked out. Unfortunately, my interest level meant that the lesson flew by, and before I knew it, I was staring down my inevitable date with Bulwark.

Once everypony had cleared out, I did the logical thing: run around aimlessly while yelling for Star.

“Star!” I called, pleading. “Star!”

This is bad. I don’t even know where the park is.

Besides, if I were to show up unprepared, it wouldn’t surprise me if I ended up engaged to her because of some stupid pony custom.

“STAR!”

“Yes?”

I nearly jumped out of my fur. No matter how many times she did it, her uncanny ability to appear suddenly at my side always managed to jolt me.

Inhaling, I blurted out what had happened in a single breath. “What do I do? What do I do?”

“Well you are going, right?”

“Well, yeah, I gave her my word,” I said like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Star smiled. “I understand that you’re nervous, but don’t worry. The hard part is out of the way.”

I was somehow skeptical. “Any faux pas I need to avoid? I only got the barest rundown of how it works from Princess Cadance.”

“Just listen to her,” Star counseled. “Let her take the lead and show you why she would make a good partner.”

I frowned. “But aren’t we just kids? Isn’t it too early to talk about marriage?”

“Not necessarily,” Star said with a wave of her hoof. “It’s not unheard of for special someponies to develop their relationship in foalhood. Pony dating is built on the assumption that in order to love somepony you need to be friends first. That’s the point of you spending time with Bulwark—try to be her friend.”

I looked down. She had said nothing to warrant any sort of confidence.

“I wish there was something I could say to make you feel more comfortable, but truthfully, this is one of the trials of foalhood.”

I sighed.

“I promise you, Aron, I’m not meaning to hang you out to dry. If you want any specific advice, I can try to help.”

I looked up. “No, I don’t really have anything. Other than not wanting to go…” I returned my gaze to her. “There’s something else I’m worried about, though.” I started to shuffle my hooves.

“Hmm?”

“I think my filly brain is starting to take over. W—when Bulwark started crying I felt really sorry for her. I really wanted to say whatever I could to make her feel better.”

Star stroked my fur with her wing.

“Aron, caring for other ponies isn’t a filly thing or a colt thing. You should take it at face-value—whatever the reason, you cared for another pony’s feelings. It’s a good quality to have.”

“But… I put her feelings above my own interests. I’ve never felt my emotions control me like that before...”

Star smiled. “You know, Aron, I actually know Bulwark personally.”

“You do?” A little bit of betrayal crept into my voice. Was Star looking out for me or for Bulwark here?

Star nodded. “She’s like a little niece to me. When I first joined the guard, her mother, Vigilant Heart, was always there for me. She took me under her wing—metaphorically I mean—and helped me learn my duties. I was so green back then, not much older than Bulwark is now, but she hammered me into something usable by the princesses.”

“Oh…” I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised that the guards all knew each other.

Star’s smile grew. “Aron, you say that you cared for Bulwark’s feelings in spite of your self-interest, but know this: since I know her and care for her, your consideration of her feelings makes me more inclined to help you. Your actions have reaffirmed you as a wonderful, kind pony, and I want to reciprocate your kindness towards her.”

Her eyes shone so brightly that I was compelled to look away. “It wasn’t anything much. I just didn’t want to say no to her after she started crying.”

“If it was that simple to you, then you deserve all the more praise. These things add up, Aron. Kindness you offer to other ponies often makes its way back to you.”

“But if you care for her, don’t you think it’s unfair that we’re tricking her into going on a date with another filly?”

Star put a hoof to her chin and started humming. I wondered if I had failed to live up to her expectations just now. I had basically offered an excuse disguised as concern for Bulwark’s feelings.

“Maybe… maybe you can tell her the truth.”

I cocked my head. “You can’t be serious. Can we really trust a filly with my secret?”

“I’m not proposing that you tell her you will be an alicorn, but you can tell her what’s true right now: that you’re a unicorn and a filly.”

I felt butterflies in my stomach at the possibility. There were so many reasons to hesitate, yet telling the truth—for once—did have its appeal.

“Actually,” Star said, weaving ideas together, “this could be a great opportunity for you. You can see how she reacts to finding out you’re a filly. If you’re comfortable with her reaction we can think of a way to tell your classmates. If not, then you can pretend that you’re still a colt at school.”

She had a point… “But what if she tells somepony else?”

Star grinned. “I can vouch for her, Aron. She’s as honest as they come. If a filly from a guardspony family gives you her word, she’s good for it. She’ll keep your secret if you ask.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Well, I know her family—”

“But is that enough?”

Star sighed. “Aron, when I say we’re close I mean it. I—they—Heart invited me to form a herd with her and her husband. They really are like family...”

“Well did you accept?” I asked, prying.

Star blushed. “Stout Defender is a very nice stallion, but he’s a little too old for my tastes. You know, just because I’m grateful to you doesn’t mean I’ll spill my heart out to you…”

“You didn’t have to answer,” I said playfully, earning me a nudge. “Anyhow, even if I wanted to tell her, how am I supposed to explain that I’m actually a filly?”

Star nodded. “Actually, Princess Celestia said something the other day that gave me an idea.”

Half an hour later, I trotted through the gates of the familiar park. Star offered to lead me there, but once she said it was the same park that Trusty had taken me to, I declined her help. I had some pride in my sense of direction after all. It made up a fairly massive open space—or maybe I was just that small.

I wandered around for about five minutes before I heard Bulwark’s familiar voice. In spite of my improved directional sense of hearing, I couldn’t find her when I turned my head. I must have missed her the first three times until she started waving, confirming it was undeniably her. She looked like a completely different pony. Her yellow mane was braided, her hooves were freshly shined and she was even wearing makeup.

She… she really did look pretty. Somehow, the care she had taken to look her best prevailed over the absurdity of seeing a pony in makeup. I felt somewhat guilty. Surely I wasn’t worth that much trouble. At that moment, it finally registered: this filly truly did like me.

Forcing a smile to my face, I trotted over to her. She had a small picnic blanket spread out and was sitting on her haunches. Mentally dividing the blanket into two, I imitated her sitting position to create perfect symmetry.

“When will that potion wear off, anyway?” Bulwark asked. “I had to keep reminding myself that I was looking for a blue pony with a scarlet mane.”

“Any day now,” I responded.

“Good. I like your real colors better. You look like a filly with those colors.” I must have frowned. “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean it’s obvious you’re a colt. I guess I haven’t seen too many colts with colors like those. I’m sure they exist, though.

I didn’t quite know how to respond to that, but my silence apparently made the filly nervous. “Sorry. I guess I said too much. My mom told me to make small talk, but I’m no good at that.” She blushed. “Not that I asked my mom for advice for our mingling”

She sighed. “Okay, I did, but she gave me more advice than I wanted.”

It took a lot of willpower to stifle a laugh. This filly really was honest to a fault.

“If my sister were here I probably would have asked her for advice, too,” I admitted. After all, even if our “mingling” wasn’t a date, I had rarely fraternized with the opposite sex.

I blanched in realization. And this time is no exception...

Bulwark tugged at her mane. “I hope I didn’t go overboard with the makeup.”

“No, you look nice,” I said. I had heard that genuine compliments go a long way with girls, and apparently that applied to fillies too, as Bulwark beamed at me.

Note to self: study my own susceptibility to compliments. This filly thing kept getting better and better…

“So… umm… the next thing is to tell you why I like you. I’m not too good with these things, but here goes: I like you because you are strong, dedicated and umm… I like that you push me to be stronger too. I don’t think anypony follows Amarezonian traditions anymore, but my infatuation from the moment of my defeat reminds me a lot of that.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, and before I could, she blushed profusely and started waving her hooves.

“Not that I only like you because I want to bear strong foals. I mean I’d love to have foals with you one day, but we’re still so young, and I love foals, but that’s not the only reason, and I only bring it up because I didn’t want you to think my reason was the Amarezonian reason, but I brought it up and now you probably think and I—uh,” Bulwark’s mouth kept moving while her thoughts lagged behind, resulting in her babbling for several seconds.

I wanted to comfort her in her distress, but I was too preoccupied analyzing my empathy to act on it.

Bulwark sniffed. “Anyway, the next thing is why I think I’m a good pony for you. I should probably move on since I messed up the why I like you part. Umm… I think I’m a hard worker, I’m loyal, and smart—at least I think I am. I’m not trying to be arrogant. I just well…”

She looked at me with tears forming in her eyes. This jerked me out of my stupor and demanded I help her. “Bulwark, I came here for you. You don’t have to put on a performance. Be yourself.”

There’s no way such a corny line will work, I thought.

Of course, this being Equestria, the hackneyed sentiment immediately cheered the filly up.

“You—you’re right. If I can’t be myself around you, then that defeats the entire point, doesn’t it? Thanks.” Nonetheless, she continued to shuffle her hooves. “I suppose we can eat now,” she offered.

I briefly heard a rustling in some nearby bushes, and I automatically turned my head to the source.

Star, you’re losing your touch...

Returning my attention to Bulwark, I nodded and the filly fished two sandwiches out of the picnic basket with her mouth. At first I cringed at this, but to my relief the sandwiches were wrapped in plastic.

“Hay sandwiches?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral. I must have failed as Bulwark blushed.

“It might not seem like much but it’s a family recipe. Try it…” she said weakly.

Unwrapping half of the sandwich, I took a bite, and for the second time in two days, I was possessed by a rich freshness. There was a strong, sweet taste of raspberries, complemented perfectly by a creamy consistency and anchored by the dry taste of hay. It wasn’t quite as good as yesterday’s apple pie, but my expression hardly betrayed this.

“It—it’’s very good,” I finally said, figuring that it wouldn’t hurt to voice what she already knew.

She took a bite of hers before responding. “Thanks. We call it PBJ and hay. Most ponies are skeptical, but I’ve never seen anypony fail to change their tune after trying it. My gift brother has a peanut farm and he sends us regular shipments of his speciality.”

She took out a pair of red cartons and pulled a stiff plastic straw off of one of them. She then stabbed it into a foil target on top and took a sip. Curious, I mimicked her and was greeted by the sweet taste of apple juice.

“I heard from Spectacle that your brother had a farm. So, he makes peanut butter?”

“Yeah, he ran a peanut farm by himself until he met his special somepony, Jelly Jamboree. As you can probably guess, they make a pretty good team. Then, when my niece, Zucchini, was born they branched out their operation to honor her.”

Zucchini, huh? I guess that’s what happens when ponies hit a dead end with thematic naming.

“I still visit their farm on occasion. I help during harvest season usually. Making jelly by hoof is fun, but it gets to be exhausting.”

Noticing how much better she was doing, I prompted her to keep this line of conversation flowing. “Do you enjoy farm work?”

She slowly shook her head. “Not really. I love Peanut and his estate, but I know by now that the guard’s my calling.” She gestured to her cutie mark. “Protecting my fellow ponies and standing up for the ideals of Equestria and the princesses really resonates with me. I like how it’s more than just one pony—it’s all of us coming together to form a shield against evil. It’s a bit of a cliched metaphor, but I’ve always been fond of it.”

I nodded along. “I get it: the feeling of strength in unity. It’s about discipline and self-sacrifice.”

“Exactly. Of course, with your cutie mark it makes sense that you’d get it.”

I self-consciously shifted my flank out of sight. I never liked it when ponies stared at my false mark.

So far, Bulwark had shown herself to be on par with my initial appraisal of her. Still, I remembered Star’s hidden persona and how this could be deceiving.

“What do you like to do other than the Junior Royal Guards?” I asked.

She furrowed her brow. “Other than the JRG? That’s a tough one. I see it as an extension of my future career, given Stepping Stone already agreed to let me become an apprentice once I graduate. Well, I’m really focused on school right now. It’s hard not to feel the pressure as an only foal at times. I like reading though. We started studying the events of Maresailles at school, so I started to read the play. It’s really good.”

I took a sip of apple juice. “We just finished studying it at Canterlot First.”

Her eyes glimmered. “Really? What a coincidence! How did you like it? Pretty interesting stuff, huh? Not that I glorify war or anything, but Princess Celestia was so cool in how she handled it.”

“I guess, but I’m having problems with the critical thinking parts.”

“Really? How so? Maybe I can help!”

“I doubt it,” I quickly said, regretting bringing it up.

“Please. Will you let me try?” she said with puppydog eyes.

“All right…all right... The question was what I thought of the treaty of Quebeak. I didn’t really know what to put. I told my teacher that I thought that the griffins valued their traditional capitals too much, but she said that I didn’t understand how important they were to the griffins. I’m not sure what she wants from me in terms of ‘independent thinking.’”

Bulwark took another bite of sandwich, chewed and swallowed before responding. “For those of us with families involved in the service—I can obviously only speak about guards, but I’m sure policepony families are similar—it can be hard for us not to fall in love with authority. I know my parents oftentimes bring the chain of command home with them. They’ve been my superiors, and I’ve always had to defer to them. This worked okay at home and ensured a peaceful household, but at school it was hard to break the habit. When I was first starting, I only said what I thought the teacher wanted to hear, and other ponies made fun of me for this. My teacher was unhelpful and just told me that I needed to think for myself.”

“So what happened?”I asked, strangely invested.

“I realized that there was no right answer. What the teacher wanted was the last thing I would have thought: an argument!”

“You mean argue with the teacher?” I asked, skeptical.

Bulwark nodded, giving a knowing smile. “Exactly.”

“But doesn’t that undermine the educational hierarchy? They’re presumably our teachers because they know more than we do...”

“Actually, I like to think of it as a different way of learning. Accepting what the teachers say is one way of learning, and another is to ask why. It may seem like insubordination, but by asking questions and challenging interpretations you’re actually teaching yourself in a way. For instance, your argument that the griffins gave up too much taught you why the griffin capitals are so important.”

I scratched my chin. “I guess, but that was more of a case of me being wrong. I didn’t know those facts, and the teacher was just correcting me.”

“Not necessarily,” Bulwark said patiently. “You could have argued in turn that in the case of Strongwing Keep and Bravefeather City, the griffin delegates were merely trying to protect their family estates in the area. Those territories were relatively new acquisitions, so wanting to hold onto them had nothing to do with griffin history. At our school, we learned that every territory was unique and that there was no one reason why the griffins prioritized the eleven capitals.”

“So, Ms. Fizzle was wrong?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Bulwark said, weighing her words. “Most of the capitals did have historical and cultural significance, so her generalization is accurate. However, by asking more questions, you get closer to the truth.” Bulwark wiped her mouth with a napkin. “At least that’s the theory anyway, but in any case, asking questions is a great way to learn.”

I still wasn’t sure if I understood, but asking questions to discover the truth had a certain esoteric appeal to it. Hearing Bulwark explain it in such sophisticated words raised my opinion of her as well.

I hadn’t realized she was this book-smart!

In a way, she reminded me of Liu, whom many Rhod boys had tried to win over. With Bulwark’s combination of smarts and strength I didn’t understand why she didn’t have as many suitors as Liu, let alone why she would be interested in me!

Such a shame, I thought, sighing as I comprehended for the first time an additional dimension of loss.

“Thank you. I’ll be sure to apply it in the future,” I promised. Though part of me still didn’t understand what she had tried to teach me.

Bulwark blushed. “History is actually my favorite subject; I’m a bit of an egghead like that. Although, it’s probably a good thing to know about me for our mingling. I’m so glad you asked me about myself. It sure beats trying to follow the script. You’re really good at this. It’s probably not your first mingling, right?”

I looked down, guiltily shuffling my hooves. “Actually, I just did what Star Chart told me to. She helped me prepare for today.”

Bulwark smiled. ‘You know Star?”

I nodded. “She’s the guard assigned to me as part of the exchange program.”

“That’s great! I didn’t even know. I had heard you were an exchange student, but I didn’t know they gave you somepony as great as Star to be your mentor. I wish I had thought to ask her advice… So, umm… River?”

“Yes?” I said, slightly anxious.

“I’m realizing that I talked a lot about myself, but I hardly know anything about you, so do you mind if I…?”

“Sure.”

“Thank you. I asked Thaumaturgical a bit about you, but I’d rather hear it from the pony himself.”

That traitor! He didn’t say anything!

“So, umm… you’re from a police pony family, right? What does that look like?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for starters, are your parents monogamous, or do you have more than two parents?”

“Monogamous,” I said a little too quickly.

“Mine too, but you already knew that. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“I have an older sister and three younger brothers.” Out of laziness, I omitted the fact that I was only a few minutes older than one.

“Really? How much older is your sister? Does she have foals of her own yet?”

“Actually… yes. She and her fiance are expecting,” I admitted, still not entirely comfortable with the idea.

“Congratulations,” Bulwark squeaked excitedly. “Colt or a filly?”

“I don’t know yet...”

“Oh, so you haven’t been back home since then. I don’t want to pry, but I would’ve thought you’d go back home to see your little niece or nephew.”

“It’s fine,” I said, readying some half-truths. “She is actually very far away so I couldn’t visit her if I wanted to.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. Sorry for reminding you…”

“It’s fine. It’s only fair that I tell you a bit about myself.”

“What about your parents?” Bulwark asked, eager. “What are they like?”

“Very strict and orthodox,” I said before feeling a twinge of guilt. “Not that I mean that in a bad way. They were very dedicated to the cause.”

“I understand exactly what you mean, River. Did they teach you to fight?”

Somehow I sensed that this was the question she was waiting to ask.

“In a way, yes.” It was almost a lie, but my dad had given me geomancy tips on the rarest of occasions.

Bulwark blinked a couple of times before making eye contact again. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?”

“Go for it,” I said, trying to hide my insecurity at the ominous question.

“Why didn’t your parents teach you earth magic? I would have thought they would try to pass that onto you at least…”

I took a deep breath. It wasn’t how I expected it to go, but the moment of truth had nonetheless arrived.

“It’s a bit selfish of me to ask, but I have to admit that my pride is a little bruised from losing to a colt who doesn’t even know earth magic.”

“Can you keep a secret?” I asked in a whisper.

“Sure,” Bulwark said, wary.

I leaned closer. “This is serious you really can’t tell anypon—anyone about this.”

Bulwark’s expression hardened and she saluted. “Guard’s honor. Not a soul shall know. My word is my bond.”

Satisfied, I brushed my bangs out of the way and waited for her reaction.

She did a double take, blinked, rubbed her eyes, shook her head, stood up, turned around and looked away and back. Finally satisfied that she wasn’t imagining it, her jaw dropped.

“How? Why? I don’t—how is that even possible? And here I thought I couldn’t feel worse about losing to you...not to sound self-centered I mean.”

“I assure you: I have my reasons. You see, I was the only unicorn in my earth pony family—the only unicorn in my village, and my parents were very staunch tribalists. They didn’t know where my unicorn ancestry came from, and they didn’t want to know. But, in any case, like many earth pony traditionalists they don’t trust magic.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Bulwark said. “That must have been so tough. So you weren’t allowed to do magic?”

“Nope,” I said somberly. “They insisted that if I was to be part of the family I would have to learn to live like an earth pony—to fight like an earth pony. In a way, it worked, I became very strong since I couldn’t rely on magic.”

“That’s almost too cruel,” Bulwark said, tearing up again. “Your magic is part of you--to deny you that just so you’d fit in…I don’t mean to say bad things about your parents, but I can’t understand that at all.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I’ve gotten by okay. And besides, Princess Celestia agrees with you. I’ve started to learned magic from Princess Twilight.”

“That’s wonderful,” Bulwark said, clasping her hooves together.

“Anyway, I can understand if this changes your mind about me,” I said hopefully, rubbing my horn.

“Not at all!” Bulwark insisted. “I’m not a tribalist like your parents. You’re amazing! If anything, knowing that you’ve persevered in the face of such adversity makes me like you even more.”

I blushed before taking a deep breath. It was now or never. “Well, before you say that you should probably hear the second half of my secret.”

“Wait, there’s more!?”

I felt another sudden pang of guilt. There was actually a lot more I wasn’t telling her. “I promise you I’m not keeping these secrets for my own amusement. I hide the fact I’m a unicorn because I’m afraid I’ll be teased for being magically inept.”

“That makes sense…”

“However, this next part I keep a secret because I have no idea how to deal with it otherwise. You see—there’s no easy way of saying this, but I—I’m actually a filly…”

Bulwark did a double take and then forced a laugh. “That’s a good one. I’ve heard stories about fillies accidentally asking other fillies to mingle, but nopony would really actually make that mistake.”

I looked her dead in the eye. “I mean it,” I said in my filly voice.

Her jaw dropped again.

“This—this is my real voice.”

She looked down. “I—I can’t even…”

Without fully comprehending my actions, I instinctively approached her and stroked her mane. “Will you hear me out?”

Bulwark nodded weakly.

“It’s an old family tradition. As the firstborn daughter, my sister was always encouraged to marry early. With her carrying on the family line, as their second daughter, my parents always intended for me to dedicate my youth to Equestria. They wanted me to become a guard or a policepony. I could have my foals later in life. Until then, I was to live as a colt—to minimize distractions. I’m really sorry this was unfair to you.”

“No!” Bulwark said adamantly. “Don’t worry about me. I just can’t believe what you’ve had to go through.”

“Actually, I don’t really mind,” I said, shrugging.

“R—really?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve been treated like a colt for most of my life, so I’m used to it.”

“You mean, you don’t mind at all?”

“Nope,” I said with confidence.

The filly broke eye contact. “I don’t believe you.”

“Huh? What are you talking about!?” I semi-shouted, taken aback.

“If you were really okay abandoning your fillyhood, then why did you grow your mane out?”

“Come again?”

“You shined your hooves, too.”

“I—I lost a bet,” I stammered, using my prepared excuse.

“Really?” She asked incisively.

That caught me off guard, so I stayed quiet. Unfortunately, silence condemned me as Bulwark hatched a little smile. “I don’t mean to push you, but now that you are away from your family you can try doing more filly things. I’m sure the princess would want you to try and be true to yourself.”

I frowned. “Yeah, that does sound like something she’d say.”

She approached me and took my hooves in hers. “Does Star know?”

“Yes.”

“Good, she’ll help you for sure.”

“...maybe…” I sure hoped she was wrong about that. In any case, my confession had gone a lot differently than expected. “So you’re not mad?”

“Mad?” Bulwark giggled.

It suited her more than I thought it would.

“While it’s not how I imagined my first mingling going, I’m not unhappy with how it turned out. If anything, I want to be friends even more now. We have a lot in common.”

She scooted closer; I retreated.

Stretching out her forelegs, she announced, “Now that I know you’re a filly, I’m not nearly as nervous. It’s nice being at ease around you.”

You were doing fine even before that...

I considered voicing the thought, but decided against it.

“This may not mean much coming from a tomcolt, but there are perks to being a filly. I’ll have to show you sometime.”

“I’ll pass,” I said abruptly.

“Come on, at least give it a chance. Have you ever been to Maiden’s Paradise?”

“No,” I said, stating the obvious.

“Their massages and hooficures are to die for! They treat you like a princess. We have to go sometime!”

I think I’m going to get more than enough of being treated like a princess, I griped to myself.

“I’ll ask Star if she can take us.”

My eyes went wide in panic. “Uhh… no… that’s okay. I’m not that comfortable with the idea of doing filly things quite yet…”

“Oh, okay,” the pony said, undeterred. “In that case we should start small. Mind if I do your mane?”

Before I could come up with an excuse, she hit me with those pleading eyes once more. I didn’t know how she managed it, but a filly twice my size actually pulled off cute pretty well. Digging into her picnic basket, she pulled out a brush. However, in the process, a small paperback book fell out. Bulwark blushed and quickly stuffed it back in, though I had just enough time to see its title: My First Mingling: A Guide for Fillies. After a few deep breaths to overcome her embarrassment, Bulwark also pulled out a little blue bow.

“I think this bow would really suit you. It goes with your current fur color.’

“Actually, Bulwark, I have to walk back to the castle, so maybe it’s not such a good time to do my mane...” I almost tacked on “maybe later,” but wisely held my tongue.

“Oh, okay, that makes sense,” she said, disappointment creeping into her voice. “In return, mind if I ask you something personal instead?”

“Go for it,” I said, finishing off my apple juice. I figured she couldn’t get any more personal than she already had.

“Do you like Spectacle?”

I spat out my apple juice and started to cough. Bulwark nimbly ducked in time to avoid getting her fur soaked.

“What!?”

Bulwark giggled. “I take that as a no.”

“Why—why would you even think that?” I asked sharply.

“I’m just curious. You two seem close. And now that I know you’re a filly, I can’t help but see that relationship in a new light. I’m glad to hear you don’t like him, actually. Personally, I think you can do a lot better.”

“Thanks… I guess.”

“Does he know?”

“No, he doesn’t,” I said quickly.

Bulwark snickered. “That dork would probably turn into a bundle of nerves around you if he found out his best friend was a filly.”

“I doubt it. He already has somepony he likes.”

“Give yourself more credit,” Bulwark said playfully. “If it’s you, I think you could cause his heart to waver.”

“Thanks, I guess…”

“This has been really fun,” Bulwark said sincerely. “You should come over to my house sometime. Maybe this Saturday.”

“Saturday won’t work, dear. You’ve got your bowling lessons then!”

Upon hearing the unexpected mare’s voice, I felt a slow-drip of adrenaline start. Was my secret in danger? What was I supposed to do?

“What about Friday?” Bulwark asked.

“Friday I have to go snowmobile shopping with your dad.”

“Next Friday, maybe?”

It was around this point where I had figured it out. Bulwark, meanwhile was still going through the pony obliviousness routine.

“Next Friday we have the open house to go to. Next Saturday should work, though.”

“Okay, thanks, Mom. How does next Saturday work for you, River?”

“Uhh… Bulwark?”

She blinked a couple of times and realization slowly dawned on the tall filly. “Mooom!” she groaned. “Why did you have to follow me?”

I heard the rustling of some leaves and a small earth pony mare stepped out from behind some nearby bushes. Her mane matched her daughter’s, while her coat was a pale cinnabar.

“Sorry, Dear, I was worried. And I felt bad that I couldn’t tell you that your date was a filly.”

Bulwark looked betrayed. “You mean, you knew?”

Vigilant nodded. “Princess Celestia wanted to protect River’s secret. I had no idea she was going to tell you herself.”

Bulwark suddenly became uncharacteristically meek. “But… I could have handled it. I’m not a little filly anymore…”

“I know, Dear, but when Star invited me, I simply couldn’t resist!”

“Wait, Star’s here?” Bulwark asked, looking around bashfully.

Anticipating her appearing behind me, I quickly turned around.

“Hi,” Star said flatly, landing silently between Bulwark and me.

Okay, now she’s just showing off.

“Yeah, I probably should have told you, but Star has to keep an eye on me at all times.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Bulwark said, still embarrassed.

“Don’t let us ruin it for you, Sweetie. Keep mingling,” Vigilant said blithely, returning to her bush.

Star nodded and flew up to a cloud.

Bulwark and I locked eyes and laughed. Needless to say, the two of them had killed whatever momentum our mingling had.

I knocked once and Celestia opened the door immediately, expecting me.

“Hello, Aron,” she said sweetly. “Sorry to make you come to me. Now that the other exchange students are arriving, we have to keep up appearances.”

“It’s fine,”I said, shrugging. “You’re a princess, so it makes sense that I come to you.”

“Ready for your first friendship lesson?” Celestia teased.

I scrunched up my nose in disgust.

“I was kidding.”

“I know, but even as an alibi, friendship lessons rub me the wrong way. So what’s up?”

“Nothing much. I just wanted to ask you about your first mingling.”

I rolled my eyes. “Didn’t Star tell you everything?”

“Well… yes, but I was hoping you’d share what you thought of it. Come on in.”

I followed her, and what immediately struck me were the modest furnishings of her private chambers. Her bed was to scale with her massive body, but otherwise I never would have guessed it was her room. She hopped and took wing, alighting on her bed to face me.

“So how did you feel about telling Bulwark your secret.”

“It was all right, I guess. But once she found out, she wanted to do girly things to me.”

“Hmm…”

“That made me uncomfortable, so I think I want to pretend to be a colt at school. I don’t want ponies treating me differently now. Especially the colts. I don’t think I’d be able to handle it if Spectacle, Beakington, or—heaven forbid—Squirt started to crush on me. Kind of a selfish reason, but—”

“I don’t think so,” Celestia said softly. “It’s natural to want to keep the relationships you have. Becoming another gender completely changes those dynamics. I’d understand if you don’t want to dive headlong into that complicated process.”

“I guess…”

A long pause passed before Celestia followed up. “What did you think of the mingling itself? How was it getting to know another pony better?”

“I liked Bulwark better than I thought I would—she’s smart, strong, kind…”

Celestia nodded.

“But that just reminds me of what I lost,” I said, bitter.

Celestia cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

“Bulwark’s perfect. Exactly the type of girl I would have wanted to marry.”

This took Celestia by surprise.

“I mean she has strong values and would have been a good mother for my children. But—but I can’t have that anymore… if I want children, I’ll have to bear them myself now—like my sister.”

Celestia opened her mouth to say something but decided against it at the last second.

“Aron…”

I sighed. “Even my own name is a reminder of what I lost. I should change it since I’m a filly now.”

This surprised Celestia even more. “But… it’s your name.”

“A name serves to identify. It identifies me as male when that’s no longer true.”

Celestia shook her head. “A name is more than that. It’s something precious and particular to a pony.”

I shrugged. “I don’t feel that way. My name is mainly there to assist others in talking about me. If it no longer serves that function, then it’s failed.”

“Then, you don’t mean… you’re going to adopt a pony name?”

“No,” I argued. “I’m still human in spirit.”

“But can’t you say the same about your gender?”

“This and that are different!” I insisted. Celestia wasn’t convinced. I wasn’t sure I was either, but I nonetheless stayed the course. “I can’t be Aron of Rhod any longer because I’m no longer Diane or Will’s brother. But I’d still like to think of myself as their sister if possible.”

Celestia’s expression hardened. “You don’t have to do this, you know. Nopony’s telling you that you have to rush to accept your fate.”

“This isn’t about that. I’m not doing this because I’m ready to start over as a filly. I’m doing this so my very name doesn’t stand as a decrepit monument to everything I’ve lost.”

Celestia looked uncertain. “I take it you have a name picked out?”

I nodded.

“Call me Alice. It’s what my mother would have named a second daughter. I’m not going to take it lying down, but I won’t deny reality: I—I’m a filly now.”

Celestia wrapped a wing around me. “Okay, Alice. You have my word that as long as it’s in my power, I’ll do whatever I can to keep you from losing anything else.”

I felt uneasy.

Did I just do something drastic?

Stifling my doubts, I looked Celestia in the eye and nodded. I wanted to believe it was a promise she could keep.

Author's Note

Let's all give a round of applause to Mix-up for the brilliant cover art. Check out his work here: http://amalgamzaku.deviantart.com/

For this chapter, I hoped to recover from the lull that was the last chapter. I think I worried too much about my OCs dominating the foreground and tried to shoehorn the mane six in.

As for the name change, I thought it was consistent with Aron's character. Military types don't seem like they'd be for having a name that doesn't fit. Perhaps Julie East from the Chaotic Touch of Harmony was my inspiration.

Chapter 22 Author's Note

Special thanks to my Amazing Editors for allowing me to achieve such a spectacular turnaround time on this chapter.

I'd also like to thank anyone who donated their OCs. They were even more useful than I would have thought. I'd be happy to accept more colts and fillies for additional exchange students.

I have some slight concerns about mood whiplash, but otherwise I'm pretty happy with this chapter. Enjoy :pinkiesmile:

Chapter 22

Diane felt the weight of the world on her shoulders that frigid desert night. Waiting outside the commander’s tent, she restlessly shifted about in her chains. They mostly served as a gesture of supplication, as chains could hardly be expected to contain any fighting Rhod.

Rubbing her abdomen, she tried to quell a terrible sense of fear. She didn’t know if her child could feel her stress, but pregnancy had injected a sense of superstition into her. She supposed this was appropriate, as her mere presence above-ground was a pseudo-religious act of faith. Anxiously, she turned her attention to the bracelet around her wrist—a protective charm. Was it truly magical, or was it just a whimsical touch from the Great One? She honestly couldn’t tell with him at times. Still, he had guaranteed her safety and that of her child, so she had to trust that.

As the flaps of the tent parted, Diane was met by an incisive scowl. The middle-aged man she now faced simply looked tired. His face had been thoroughly baked by the desert sun, his red fighting vest was torn in places, and his hair had grayed and thinned.

“This way,” he said, curtly, quickly breaking eye-contact. “The general will see you now.”

Diane mouthed the word before saying it. It was a lonely, weighty word that took immense effort from her. The word, which she had excised from her vocabulary, had a bittersweet ring to it, its single-syllable comprising a cacophony of dissonant intonations.

“...Dad…”

Lawrence stopped, dropping his hands to his sides but not turning. “I have nothing to say to you, Cub.”

The word, spoken with a soft disdain, caused Diane to flinch as if struck. Somehow his word choice pummeled her with its compressed venom. He could have called her a lot of things, but she doubted any of them would have hurt nearly as much.

Diane looked down, past her ceremonial Ayabna clothes and at the weathered soil. As she followed the stranger in front of her, she mentally stitched the cracks and imagined pulling the gaps together again. As a sentimental touch, she imagined plants blooming too. The tent was small, but she nonetheless waited until she had arrived at the middle to look up again.

Brigadier General João O’Higgins looked much as she had remembered him: pointy white beard trimmed into a diamond shape, scars lining his face, not a single stray hair seen atop his head, garbed in a classical black button-up uniform with pauldrons.

“So one of you turncoats actually has the gall to poke her head out from the burrow. Tell me: do you have a single pearl of humanity left within your addled mind to comprehend shame?”

“I come bearing a message,” Diane said simply.

“Obviously. Now, what makes you think we have any interest in hearing it?”

The hybrid girl didn’t hesitate: “The fact that I’m standing before you, even in chains, is evidence enough of your interest.”

“Oh, so it looks like going feral hasn’t completely compromised your reason. Well, you’re on point: I have no interest in negotiating with animals, and if it weren’t for the fact that I once regarded you very highly, your antlered head would already be rolling on the ground. So, speak! But choose your words wisely, Captain.”

At first, Diane mistook his use of her former title as a humanizing touch; however, cynicism set in and she realized it was likely a subconscious ploy to get her to buy into his authority once more.

“All I can offer you is what Prism Caller shared with me. Rhod is a fragile world—too fragile to endure reckless industrialization. Its ecosystem is sparse, it has almost no wildlife, and natural resources are scarce. The fact that the Ayabna”— she stumbled over the word, but nonetheless continued forcefully—”even exist is a miracle. They have persevered against impossible odds. And slowly they are changing Rhod for the better. Their hybridization breeding programs have created plants and insects that thrive in the total absence of water. Rhod isn’t a dead-end, and we shouldn’t discard it as one.”

The old man sighed and shook his head. “Because I once respected you, I won’t rehash dogma with you. Notwithstanding, there’s always our right to Rhod by the doctrine of adverse possession; our divine right to preserve our human forms and the spirit of human ingenuity and progress.”

Diane swallowed hard. She had been extensively prepared to address every one of those points in dozens of mock debates.

“But you bears have already doubtlessly cooked up a justification, and I’m not about to waste my time walking into a canned answer. So you tell me: how’s it in the interest of us humans to save “your” world? That’s what it comes down to, right? You think this arid rock is something worth preserving. Well, we don’t! Can you overcome that gap?”

She would only have one shot at this. O’Higgins’s patience was at its end. He wanted her best argument here and now.

But isolated from its premises, it’s so hollow, she thought.

Nonetheless she had to try, so she took a deep breath.

“Probability,” she said emphatically. “The odds of finding a world superior to Rhod are miniscule—even on the off chance our—uhh... your technology reaches Colonization Age levels. The bottom line is that you can’t abandon Rhod for the prayer of a more prosperous future. Rhod is difficult, Rhod will demand we sacrifice and evolve with it, but Rhod’s still more than an empty promise.”

The old man seemed to age another decade in a single moment. Inscribed on his face was not rage, not epiphany, but disappointment as he languidly shook his head.

“So your faith in the Rhod race was so easily spent. No wonder we lost…”

No words would come, so Diane waited out the long pause. She glanced timidly at Lawrence, but the tired Lieutenant Colonel refused to meet her gaze.

“You so easily came to believe that we were that short-sighted. That we’d cut off our noses to spite our face.” He sighed. “Follow me.”

“Sir, you don’t mean…”

“Yes, old friend, bring the shovel. Maybe they’ll finally leave us alone this way. Out of pity if nothing else...”

Despite the Rhods’ lack of night-vision they nonetheless were able to lead the way for about half a mile. Seemingly at random, they circled around until finally they came to a one-armed cactus. As Lawrence dug, O’Higgins looked around obsessively on the off chance he could perceive any sort of threat. Still, Diane didn’t have to wait long until the Lieutenant Colonel hit something hard.

To her changed eyes it shone bright—white as bone. As he excavated it, she was slowly able to make out the shape of a chest. Reaching into his pocket, O’Higgins retrieved an obsidian key and unlocked the chest. He opened it to reveal a palm-sized translucent rectangle made of an otherworldly plastic-like material. It was lounging on a cushion of red velvet.

“What—what is it?”

“Restitution,” the old man answered. “In the form of a single share of stock.”

Her jaw dropped. There had been rumors—legends, but voicing them aloud always risked severe punishment. So naturally, everyone had heard them.

“So this is…”

O”Higgins nodded. “Payment for our race’s indentured servitude.”

To Diane’s horror, the old man than proceeded to spit on the alien artifact.

“Some gift—more like an ultimatum! When the first King of Rhods was given this, we were provided only the barest of hints—what it was, the company’s motto and a deadline.”

“What’s—”

“The motto? “All or nothing.” The deadline? Five-hundred years.”

Diane racked her brain for any hint at what the old man was getting at. He waved her off.

“Don’t bother. It took us hundreds of years to finally put it all together.”

“All or nothing refers to unanimous decisionmaking. Our one share of stock is one vote—a veto power in other words.”

“A veto? For what purpose?” Diane asked thoughtfully.

“Anything and everything averse to our interests. A return to slavery, the extinction of our race, the destruction of your precious Rhod. They could do any of these and more. And that’s all we have. We don’t know the place, we don’t know the company’s name, we don’t even know the language, but we have to be there in less than two-hundred years to vote.”

Diane summoned her courage and stood up to O’Higgins. “Isn’t that all conjecture. Aren’t you just grasping at straws here?

O’Higgins laughed derisively. “Don’t take my word for it. Ask the accursed thing yourself.”

“What—”

“HAHAHAHAHA!” came a synthesized laughter.

Diane froze.

“Yes, Rhod female! The alien artifact can talk,” the Share taunted. “And my the things it has to say! But now that you know the secret I have a proposition for you.”

“NO!” Lawrence shouted. “She’s not human anymore.”

“Am I not her inheritance as well?” the Share asked sardonically. “So tell me, Rhod female I have an all-or-nothing proposition for you: sell me! Sell me back to the company and receive anything you want—all the luxuries you could ever dream of for the remainder of your finite lifespan."

“No,” Diane answered instantaneously.

“Let’s see what your heart really says…”

A brilliant white light shot out of the translucent rectangle and into Diane.

“No greed at all, such a shame. Well there’s always next time!” Cackling, the artifact grew dim.

“What was—”

“Another test,” O’Higgins explained, exhaling in relief. “All or nothing. If a single Rhod accepts his offer, it’s over for all of us. Thus, our race too must remain unanimous.”

A flurry of thoughts and emotions cascaded through the hybrid Rhod. “Why did you…”

The brigadier general looked her dead in the eye. “Tell your Great One whatever you want about what you have witnessed tonight. Knowing what you now know, maybe you’ll let us go down swinging.”

Diane braced herself for reprimand and spoke: “You’ll need help.”

“Save it!” Lawrence bellowed, slamming the chest shut. “Go back to your little colony and let us humans worry about our future.”

“But—”

Diane felt the sensation of a chilling tendril gripping her mind.

But are you still human? The synthesized voice asked. Could you have accepted my offer even if you wanted to? The shareholders will have to vote on that one...

“And that’s why strawberries make the best cupcake fillings!” the crystal filly explained to Trusty.

What is it with pink ponies anyway!? I thought to myself, staring down my fellow exchange student. It’s like they’re wired to be extra quirky.

That morning, we were treated to the exchange filly talking our ear off on the way to Canterlot First. In a few, unnaturally long minutes we learned her favorite foods, songs, colors, places, classmates and school subjects in rapid-fire format. Star occasionally looked back with an apologetic expression, while Trusty seemed to revel in the small-talk. For the moment, I was actually grateful for the distraction, as it beat worrying about whether my secret would hold. But I still cringed in anticipation of this being every morning for the conceivable future.

“I’m just so excited to be part of this program!” Pink Diamond said, excitement bubbling over. “The opportunity came up, I asked my parents to participate and not two weeks later I’m here in Canterlot! How’d it happen for you, River? I would have applied a lot sooner if I had known about it. How’d you get early bird rights, anyway?”

Star looked back at me and smiled, curious about how I would answer.

“Umm… I signed with the Junior Policeponies Guild for two years, so I was entered in a drawing and I got chosen to go to Canterlot. The idea is that policeponies have to be ready to be transferred to another precinct.”

“I don’t know what a pre-sink is, but that sounds neat! So you didn’t know where you would end up?”

“Well I had the final say, I could have refused if I didn’t want to go.”

“Why would you ever say no? This is the opportunity of a lifetime.” The filly said, hopping in place.

“Well, if it was—” I paused “Ponyville, I would have said no.”

“Are you kidding?” Pink Diamond asked in disbelief. “Ponyville is amazing! That’s where the one-thousandth Summer Sun Celebration was and where Princess Luna returned. And more recently, it’s become the home of the newest Princess, Twilight Sparkle! As well as Spike the dragon, hero of the Crystal Empire!”

Am I breaking character here? Is Ponyville really that famous or amazing?

I looked for clues in Star’s expression and found no evidence that I had slipped.

“I just like Canterlot I guess. It’s a lot bigger, and umm…”

“Bigger isn’t always better,” Diamond said, “but for Canterlot, I think it is. Everything’s bigger here.” The filly outstretched her forelegs for emphasis. “Like this stallion!”

“Umm… thanks,” the gruff black stallion grunted, confused at being used as a prop.

“There are so many things I’m excited about—like meeting my new classmates. Ooh! What can you tell me about them, River? Are there a lot of ponies like us? Ones without wings or horns I mean? Are they friendly? Do they have any inside jokes I should pretend to find funny in order to fit in?”

“They are mostly unicorns—”

“Really that’s so cool! We don’t have any pegasi or unicorns at Crystal Northwestern!”

I gave her a sedate glare.

“Heh. Sorry. Continue.”

“Well the most important pony—other than the teacher—is probably Zephyr Zap. She knows everypony. Next most important is Annuity. Chances are she’ll bully you, so try not to show her weakness.”

Pink Diamond smiled. “Pfft. What are you saying, River? Most ponies are warm and squishy on the inside once you get to know them!”

I snorted. As if that could be true.

Then I remembered where I was. If I balked at her, Equestria would probably prove the pony right and before I knew it, she, Bulwark, Annuity and I would be having filly sleepovers complete with gossiping about cute colts. True, Annuity was petty, but her childish bullying was some welcome variety. In I way, I liked disliking her and wanted to keep it that way.

“You’re probably right. Go be the best friend to Annuity you can be!”

Star turned her head and raised a judgmental eyebrow.

“Thanks,” Diamond said. “I’ll make the princess proud.”

“We’re here,” Trusty announced as we turned the corner into the schoolyard.

“Thanks, Trusty!” Diamond said. “I’ll see you after school.”

Trusty smiled warmly. “Don’t hurry back to me. Try to make some friends after school.”

“Sir, yes sir,” Diamond said, saluting. Trusty chortled. The filly then ran towards the school building. I motioned to follow her but I felt Star’s teeth tugging at my tail. Confused, I looked back at the mare.

“Watch out for her, will you?”

I shrugged. “I’ll try. I’m not sure I can protect her from herself, but she’ll probably be fine. Most of the ponies are nice, anyway.”

Star let out a concerned sigh. “Please try. She’s fragile that one…”

“Literally?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“No, Alice, crystal ponies are not actually made of crystal. It’s just a magical effect that makes them appear that way. So, will you watch out for her?”

“Fine. It’s not like she can be any more fragile than Bulwark…”

Star shook her head. “Don’t be so quick to judge. Bulwark isn’t normally one to cry; she just likes you a lot.”

I turned around. Pink Diamond had been unsuccessful at luring anypony away from their game of tag and was by herself. I trotted towards her as the bell rang, Star and Trusty waving me off.

I was the third student in, just in time to be the audience for some pony shenanigans.

“Is anypony sitting here?” Diamond asked.

“Yes,” Zap said with a big smile.

She jogged across the room.

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“How about here?”

“Yes.”

“Well does anypony sit here?”

Zap giggled as the crystal filly squeezed into the same desk she was occupying.

By her blushing, I didn’t think the filly was trying to be funny.

“Ooh! I have a good feeling about this desk,’ Diamond said. “What about here? Is anypony sitting here?”

Zap smiled. “No pony is sitting in that desk, no.”

“Great! Then I claim this desk in the name of the Crystal Empire!”

“What are you doing in Iron Jill’s desk!?” The minotaur bellowed.

Catching sight of the cow-girl, the filly went pale. “Eeep I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to. Please don’t get mad.”

“Iron Jill’s not angry. Iron Jill just has no inside voice!”

This reassurance didn’t stop the filly from cowering as she retreated towards the front of the room. Most of the class had arrived in the interim, taking their assigned seats. As Annuity sat, I noticed her take note of the crystal pony’s blank flank, and a predatory grin came to her muzzle. She wasn’t the only one taking notice of Pink Diamond, as the room started to murmur.

“Who’s she?”

“I thought we were already filled to capacity.”

“Isn’t it a bit late for a transfer student?”

“Is she… sparkling?”

It was then that Mrs. Fizzle stepped up to answer everypony’s questions. Clearing her throat she stepped up behind the podium and clapped. “Everypony, settle down! I have an exciting announcement to make! Your classmate, Cotton Candy, was selected for an exchange program with the Crystal Empire. She will be staying at the Crystal Palace as a guest of Princess Cadance while studying at Crystal Northwestern Elementary.”

Which pony is she again? I asked myself, despite having a fairly good grasp on my classmates by now.

“Cotton Candy? You mean the unicorn filly with no distinguishing characteristics or meaningful relationships with any of us?” Squirt asked.

“Thanks, Exposition Sayer,” Stardust snarked from the back of the room. For some reason, Squirt blushed upon hearing the filly’s rebuke.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say, Squirt. Surely somepony here is friends with her.” Fizzle waited a beat with her forelegs outstretched.

“...anypony…?”

Wow. No wonder she left.

“Ahem... moving on, I am happy to announce, that Crystal Northwestern Elementary sent us one of their students in the exchange program. Like River, she will be staying in the palace and will have the opportunity to learn from Princess Celestia herself.” Some mouths went agape in envy. Other ponies turned to look at me accusingly. “Why don’t you introduce yourself, my little pony.”

“Okay!” Diamond said, jumping in front of the podium with a huge smile on her face. “Hello, everypony, my name is Pink Diamond! I’m thirty-seven years old, I love Sapphire Shores, and my favorite dance is the salsa!”

The room was silent.

“Not to interrupt, Diamond dear, but we have a lot to cover today. Still, we can spare a few minutes to ask our new friend some questions.”

A few hooves rose into the air.

“Yes, Annuity?”

“Why are you sparkling?”

“Well, I’m a crystal pony. It’s what we do…”

“Can you stop?”

“No?” she said, confused.

“Well, doesn’t the glare get kind of tiring after a while?

The filly frowned. “No, I don’t think so…”

Annuity had clearly thought of something else to say, but a stern look from Mrs. Fizzle convinced her not to press any more.

“Little Pinion,” Fizzle called, pointing to the the chocolate-coated unicorn behind Jill.

“What’s your favorite color?” he asked.

That’s original…

“Pink!”

What a surprise…

Fizzle gestured around the room with her forehoof. “One more… yes, Style!”

“Can I do your mane?” the orange filly asked. “It’s real pretty.”

“Any time!” Diamond said, perky. “And thanks!” she added, straightening her short lavender mane.

“Now I’m sure you’re all eager to catch up with Pink Diamond and ask her all about the Crystal Empire, but that will have to wait until recess. We’ll start with what you’ve all been waiting for: the presentation of the songs you wrote!”

Ponyfeathers! I forgot all about that.

“First up is River Glade and Squirt with ‘Everypony is Special.” Judging by her tone, Fizzle seemed to already suspect a dearth of creativity.

I took a deep breath and joined Squirt at the front of the class. This is going to suck...

When we had finished I let out a sigh of relief. I had gone the entire song without my singing voice cracking. Squirt looked around expectantly, but the pony children were surprisingly judgmental.

“So, River, what made you choose that theme?” Fizzle asked.

“Uhh… it was Squirt’s idea.” The colt looked a little betrayed, but he quickly faced the music.

“I thought it would be a fun idea to sing about everypony’s talent.”

“It’s not that similar to what we’ve done in class, right?” I asked somewhat nervously.

“Well, no, but your cutie mark poems are due in three weeks, so I had hoped you would have chosen a different topic.”

“How were we supposed to know that?” Squirt asked in disbelief.

“It’s on the syllabus,” Fizzle said, impatient. “Anyhow, I sense that your hearts weren’t in the song.”

“Sorry,” I whispered to Squirt. Part of that must have been from my lack of confidence in my colt singing voice.

Squirt shook his head at my apology.

“Also, the part about you no longer fits, Squirt,” Fizzle critiqued. “You have your cutie mark now.”

“Well we wrote that before, and I didn’t want to change it,” Squirt argued.

“You need to put your best hoof forward, boys. Take some more pride in your work.”

“Yeah, what’s up with my verse, anyway?” Gilded Acres asked. “My talent isn’t ‘guiding produce to the store’ it’s industrial-scale agribusiness.”

“Same thing…” Squirt muttered. He got a few laughs, but Fizzle didn’t approve.

“Boys you did try, but I know you can do better. Here you go,” she said, handing over a paper with a large C+ on it.”

Squirt smiled slightly. “Why didn’t you say so. I’ll gladly take that grade on an assignment that la—err tough.”

Annuity was smirking at me, but my sentiment echoed Squirt’s: I was completely satisfied just to have it over and done with.
However, that feeling only lasted until the next song. Silver Lining and Skywatcher actually had the gall to sing about how their friendship was like magic. And Fizzle had nothing but praise for them!

What the heck! How is that better than ours? Their theme is even more cliched.

Instead of criticizing them like she had with us, Fizzle asked about some of the details of the song, and the two colts went into great detail about individual stanzas and rhymes. All told, they were awarded an A for their efforts.

Apparently we didn’t have to just come up with a pony song, we had to like doing it! I boiled at the injustice.

Beakington and Jill sang about their adjustments moving to Equestria. Although, they were among the least talented singers, Fizzle still liked the personal touch of their song.

Bubble Bauble and Annuity rapped about how great they were, making frequent reference to the size of their family holdings as well as how all the colts wanted to date them.

Naturally, they got an A+. Fizzle loved their “self-confidence.”

Clever Theorem had been Cotton Candy’s partner, so when their song came up Mrs. Fizzle awkwardly took Cotton Candy's place in the duet. Despite Pink Diamond’s willingness to volunteer, Fizzle thought it would be unfair for her to be graded on somepony else’s work.

The song presentations took up most of the morning. By the time Windy Skies and Mortar Strike finished with a song about the weather, I had nearly nodded off. The pegasi used strange figurative language like “kicking clouds” and “bringing in the rain,” but I could appreciate that it was a better song than ours.

On cue, the recess bell rang and everypony started to file out. I saw Pink Diamond lock in on Annuity, and, curious, I followed her out. However, Style and Stardust intercepted us.

“Wow. So you get personal lessons from the princess in the exchange program? I’m jealous,” Stardust said.

Pink Diamond blushed.

“Tell us all about it!” Style insisted.

“It was great! She started by asking me what I thought friendship was. And I said like, it’s the warm feeling when I’m around other ponies that I like. She told me this was a good definition, and I was happy. But then she said that there was more to friendship than just that, and I was sad because I disappointed her, but then she said ‘there are no wrong answers, my little pony,’ and I was so happy. She called me her little pony and I felt so special. She explained that there’s more to friendship than the immediate feeling of happiness when you’re around other ponies. There’s also the unbreakable bond when you’re apart! She’s so wise.”

Style and Stardust were soaking in every word, clearly wanting more.

“And that’s all she told me,” Diamond said, and the fillies’ disappointment showed through. “But if you want more, you should ask River, who's been taking friendship lessons with Princess Celestia way longer than I have.”

As if redirecting a firehose, Diamond trained the fillies’ expectant smiles on me at full blast.

Not good. Not good!

“Yeah,” Style said. “You never told us about that. We want to hear all the details!”

I froze. I almost found myself wishing Celestia had given me some sham friendship lessons. As much as I didn’t want to have to do this, I had to for fear of losing my cover story.

“Well the first thing she taught me was the importance of being honest with friends. Lies may seem convenient at times, but to keep up with them demands a juggling act that becomes exponentially more difficult. You don’t realize at first how many more lies you have to tell just to support the initial fib. So that was a good cautionary tale.”

“How would she know?” Stardust naively asked. “I bet she’s never lied about anything.”

You have no idea…

“What else? What else?” Sunny Style asked, hyper.

“Uhhh… it’s important to be able to forgive your friends,” I stammered. “Friends are worth more than principles, and you want to be able to forgive other ponies not just for them but for you. That way you don’t have to carry the bad emotions around.”

“She’s so wise,” Stardust said dreamily. “What else?”

“Okay, last thing!” I insisted to their chagrin. “Friendship is… uhhh…. like farming.”

“Farming?” Style asked, confused.

“Yeah, umm.. you harvest the seeds from the friends you make and plant them to make new friends. You know, like the ponies you meet because of your friends. That’s the secret to making a lot of friends—meeting your friends’ friends.”

Style smiled. “You really know a lot, River,” she said. “We’ll have to come to you if we ever have any friendship problems.”

I had to quickly turn my reflexive scowl into a smile as the two of them trotted away happy.

“Wow, River, Princess Celestia really taught you a lot! I can’t wait for my next lesson!”

I glared at her.

What did you just get me into?

“Are you upset about something, River?”

I stomped a hoof. You think?

“No, I’m not upset about anything,” I said, forcing a smile.

“Well that’s good,” she said blithely. “I’m going to go make friends with Annuity.”

“You do that,” I said, letting her trot a few paces ahead of me. However, guilt over my promise to Star took over and I started to follow her.

“Hey, River!” Thaumaturgical called out.

“HI, Spectacle,” I said awkwardly. Although Zap had resolved our conflict, it was still kind of awkward facing him after acting so childishly myself. There was also another issue...

Do you like Spectacle? Bulwark’s voice echoed in my head.

I blushed and shook my head before smiling awkwardly at Spectacle.

No way. If I’m going to start falling for colts, I have to be more selective.

I had to admit that being a popular girl like Liu had its appeal. Although, it must be harder to keep multiple colts wrapped around your little finger when fillies outnumber them.

What the hay am I thinking...

“What’s up?” I asked Spectacle

He smiled. “Not much. It’s just nice to be on speaking terms again. I really am sorry for not telling you. Though Pestle says the potion should be wearing off soon, so that’s good.”

I looked around the room. Gilded Acres and Daybreak were back to their original mane colors, while Pish and Posh were still sporting a faded green.

Good to know. I’ll wear the ring again starting tomorrow.

“Hmm…” Pestle hummed. “Your dyed colors still seem fairly solid. Interesting.” She grabbed my tail with her mouth to get a closer look. Startled, I quickly pulled away, whipping my tail back into position.

“What are you doing!?”

Pestle started chewing on a hair she had pulled off my tail. “Yet, I can’t taste even the slightest bit of antelope sprig… How can the potion still be so strongly in effect?”

Without acknowledging her invasion of my personal space the filly trotted off muttering to herself, still chewing on the hair. She reminded me of the Professor—in a bad way.

“Wait up, Pestle,” Spectacle called out, chasing her.

Following them, I exited the school building and saw Annuity smiling down at Diamond from atop the little hill at the center of the playground.

“Sure, I’d love to be your friend,” Annuity said with zero believability.

“Great,” Diamond said, completely oblivious. “River thought you would be mean to me.”

Annuity forced a laugh as she grinned at me out of the corner of her mouth. “Now why would he think that? Although, I am a bit curious if a blank flank is cool enough to hang out with us, so I have a little test.”

This actually made the crystal filly even more eager. “Name it!”

“Let’s play a game of Gauntlet Tag. Me against you.

I inched closer, still highly suspicious of Annuity. Nevertheless I was curious about finally learning the rules of this popular new tag variant.

It was simpler than I had expected: Each team had five players. The captain of each team had to tag the opposing five in order, ending with the opposing captain. The one twist was that the players that were tagged out could re-enter the game to help their captain tag one—and only one—of the other team’s non-captain members. Any players tagged could be sent out, in order, whenever their team’s number of captured participants exceeded their opponent’s. However, at least one pony had to remain in “jail” at all times. This mechanic ensured that the team that was behind could come back more easily.

“Wait a minute,” I said, cutting into Annuity’s explanation. “How would the ponies returning to the game know who to chase? I mean, they’d know when they first leave jail, but the target could change and they wouldn’t know.”

“Look, Princess, do you want to play or not?” Annuity asked, irritated.

“I guess,” I said reluctantly, ignoring the barb. The theoretical problem with in-game intel bothered me, but I couldn’t expect much from a game that was hastily thrown together for a prank.

“You can have first choice,” Annuity offered.

“Okay, I’ll take River Glade,” Diamond said with glee.

Bubble Bauble snickered. I facehooved.

“Good choice,” Annuity said ironically. “I’ll take Daybreak,” she added quickly.

Okay, this could still work. Pick Granite and we’ll be evenly matched…

“I choose you, Bubble Bauble,” Diamond said, pantomiming some weird throwing gesture. The blue filly reluctantly shuffled towards our group.

“Your sacrifice won’t be in vain, Bubble,” Annuity promised. “I choose Granite.”

With the third pick, Diamond took Zephyr Zap while Annuity took Mortar Strike. Stardust went next and Sunny Style was picked last. We then lined up in the order we would be targeted. I volunteered to be first, so I could help Diamond as soon as possible. Zap suggested herself instead, but the crystal filly was too kind to refuse me.

As we climbed on top of the hill, Annuity shot a defiant look at me. She had a competitive verve to her; I liked it. On the count of three, Daybreak and I took off in opposite directions. I would have until the count of five until Annuity was on my tail.

I held back from a full gallop, electing to conserve my energy. When the bronze filly came into my field of vision, I met her gaze for a long second before turning around and darting behind the schoolhouse. I was just as fast as Annuity, albeit inferior to her in endurance, so I was able to stay a good distance ahead of her at all times. It also helped that I didn’t want to lose to her, a mindset which seemed to give my hooves an almost weightless quality as I glided across the field. Panting, I would occasionally look back, but the distance between us never seemed to grow. Either I overestimated my competitive drive, or Annuity really did have a fighter’s spirit as well.

Just how I like it, I thought, picking up in speed.

As we circled the playground, we occasionally had to weave in between Daybreak and Diamond, who were running in a much more erratic pattern. Unsurprisingly, the athletic colt was outpacing the markless filly. After a minute and a half of this, I started to feel a burning in my chest, and I knew I couldn’t keep it up. Cursing my handicap, I racked my brain for ideas. I was trained for this; there had to be something I had that she didn’t.

Slowing down, I turned and shot Annuity a smug grin. I didn’t know if my hypothesis was true, but being able to project an aura of confidence at one’s opponent was half of the battle. Confused, she sped up towards me and reached out her hoof. Judging her distance, I timed my side-hop accordingly. The result was her galloping right past me. Clearly she wasn’t the quickest learner as she then proceeded to make a wide turn and charge at me once more. And again, I sidestepped her with ease.

She screeched to a halt and flashed me a look of indignation. This had incensed her. This time, she didn’t bother building up a head of steam as she dashed towards me. Ready for this I immediately made a beeline off to the side, quickly converting my sideward momentum into a forward gallop. Annuity quickly adjusted course, but whenever she successfully lined up with me, I shuffled off to the side at an angle. The faster she was going, the wider her turning radius was, giving me time to gain velocity in a new direction.

I was able to keep this elaborate dance up for about four minutes. My theory was holding firm. The lateral quickness that had been drilled into me from a young age was far superior to Annuity’s. She tried to circumvent this by running more slowly, counting on the fact that I was as tired as she. However, I countered by sidestepping circles around her as she chased me.

“Stop that!” Annuity ordered.

I laughed.

She looked like a puppy chasing her tail trying to catch me, and she was gradually growing more agitated. Desperate, she tried to mimic my shuffling, but she was just too slow. She even tripped while trying too hard to imitate me. However, all good things must come to an end, and settling into a controlled canter, she was able to finally tag me by virtue of outlasting me.

“Got… you…” Annuity panted, exhaustion weighing down her triumph.

I turned and walked back to the hill with a forehoof raised. “Good luck catching anyone else like that.”

Scowling, Annuity trotted back to the water fountains.

As expected, I was the first to arrive at jail. Surprisingly, I didn’t get much time to rest, as Bubble Bauble almost immediately joined me.

“Did you even try?” I accused.

“It’s not against the rules,” Bubble said defensively.

I shook my head derisively.

Pestle, there’s another flaw in your game… then again…

“You know, you probably should have thought this through a bit more. Annuity gets one step closer to Diamond, but by throwing your leg of the relay, you let me enter the game all the earlier.”

Bubble smirked condescendingly. “Who’s been playing the game longer? Yes, you get into play earlier, but don’t expect me to be any help when Annuity catches Zap, Princess.”

I shook my head, sour. “You sure put a lot of thought into cheating.”

“Nopony said it’s against the rules,” Bubble protested.

“It’s inequitable conduct.”

“What does that mean?”

I shrugged. “I don’t actually know. It’s just a term I heard. Seemed like it would fit?”

“So are you going to go after Daybreak, or are you going to stand here lecturing me about fairness?”

I opened my mouth to retort, but then I closed it and smiled. “You’re absolutely right,” I said, turning my back on the mole.

Another dimension of Annuity’s strategy quickly emerged as I scanned the field for Daybreak. I realized I would be too tired to be of any use for at least a few more minutes. Still, by the mere threat of my presence, I tried to herd Daybreak towards Pink Diamond. At first, I thought I was too slow to be effective, but fortunately, Daybreak’s poor grasp of geometry proved to be his undoing and I was able to cut him off. However, when cornered, he unexpectedly approached me and touched my hoof just before Diamond could get him.

“There, I’m out,” he said. “You got me, so you’re done too.”

“But youtagged me. Diamond was clearly going to get you, so that just wastes my one tag.”

“Call it strategy,” Daybreak said arrogantly.

“Is that what the rules say?” Diamond asked innocently.

“Well, it’s how we play,” Daybreak explained.

“Okay,” Diamond said with a sweet smile.

I shrugged. If she wasn’t going to complain, I wasn’t going to fight it. Reluctantly, I followed the yellow and orange earth colt back to jail.

How well-developed is the Gauntlet Tag meta-game on this playground? I wondered

Watching as Pink Diamond chased the large earth filly in vain, I felt strangely deprived. On the surface, it had been a fun and pure game that rewarded effort. However, Annuity’s tactics had turned it into a one-sided affair. Bubble Bauble barely put forward a token effort in helping Pink Diamond trap Granite Hammer. Though, it took Annuity some time to finally catch Zap, Granite was no closer to being caught by the time the pegasus filly joined us in jail. Seeing me there with Daybreak, she dug into her seemingly endless reserves of energy and dashed right by us to take her turn as Diamond’s helper.

“Hi, River! Hi, Daybreak! Bye, River! Bye, Daybreak!”

With three ponies after her, Granite quickly succumbed, but not without pulling the same stunt as Daybreak had in order to knock out Zap. At that point, both Annuity and Diamond were tired and it became a race to see who could catch her mark first. Ultimately, Annuity caught up to the purplish-blue unicorn filly, Stardust, first.

It was then the game reached its mundane climax. Annuity simply had to walk up to Pink Diamond and tap the exhausted crystal filly.

“I guess I lose,” Pink Diamond giggled. “That was fun.”

“Too bad,” Annuity said, jeering, “I guess you’re not cut out to be my friend.”

“Please,” Pink Diamond begged, with actual tears in her eye, “let me try again.”

Daybreak, Bubble and Granite flanked their leader.

“Didn’t you get the message?” Bubble questioned disdainfully.

“Message? What message?” Diamond asked, oblivious.

“Seriously? Obviously, she doesn’t want to be your fr—”

Annuity raised a hoof to silence her friend. The four of them then huddled and started whispering. The rich filly then turned to face us again with that familiar predatory smile on her face. “Sure, if you can pass the makeup tests I’ve got coming up, I’d be happy to be your friend.”

“Really?” Diamond asked, her eyes sparkling as brightly as her mane.

“Uhh, yeah, of course,” Annuity said, caught slightly off-guard.

“Cool!” The filly jumped in place. “I’m going to make friends with other ponies in the meantime.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Granite mocked.

As the transfer student trotted away I heard Annuity mutter something under her breath: “I can’t wait to see her running home bawling like a certain, other crybaby Diamond.”

I suddenly felt strangely protective of Pink Diamond and briefly considered accosting Annuity for stating such a hurtful intent. However, I then remembered that Granite and Daybreak doubled as bodyguards for the uppity filly. Though I could probably take them down similar to how I had bested Bulwark the first time, I was saving that for a rainy day. Instead, I approached Zephyr Zap who was meekly backing away.

“Are you okay with this?” I asked her pointedly.

“Wh—what do you mean.”

I stomped a hoof. “Don’t play dumb! You know very well what Annuity’s doing. She’s stringing Pink Diamond along to humiliate her.”

“Well… that’s kind of what Annuity does…” Zap let out a nervous laugh.

“And you’re okay with that!?”

Her ears drooped. “Well, no, but I don’t want to make my friend angry.”

“Is that worth Diamond’s feelings?”

Zap looked straight down into the grass. “Well, no, but I just want to preserve the peace and get along with everypony…”

“Zap, you can’t get along with everypony, or be friends with everypony at once. You have to choose.”

“How would you know!?” Zap shrieked. “Which one of us has more friends, huh?” “What do you know?”

I held my ground as she encroached on my personal space, looking her straight in the eye.

“What I know is that unless something changes, you won’t be able to be friends with both Pink Diamond and Annuity.”

I considered throwing my name into the mix too, but I didn’t want to burn bridges just yet with her.

“Watch me,” she said defiantly before flying to catch up with Diamond.

I sighed. That certainly could have gone better. No sooner had I registered the sound of hoofsteps before I heard a voice coming from behind me.

“We’ll help you, River,” Stardust said serenely.

“With what?” I asked, playing dumb.

“We know, River,” Style said. “You want to stop Annuity. Well, so do we. We’re tired of her pushing everypony around.”

“How did you…”

Stardust smiled. “River, it’s obvious to us what’s going on. As Princess Celestia’s friendship student you can’t stand idly by any longer and let Annuity bully the newest addition to our class. Well, we’re fed up too and we want to help. Teach us your ways, Master.”

She and Style then proceeded to bow down.

Oh, boy, what did I get myself into.

Sighing, I reconciled myself with the idea. I supposed I could keep the bogus friendship lessons going in exchange for some allies. Warily, I nodded my assent.

“Then it’s settled,” Style said, clapping her hooves together happily. “Henceforth, we shall be known as the Anti-Annuity Alliance.”

“Uhh… okay…”

Style then zoned in on my mane. “Oh, you grew our your mane and tail!”

“Yeah,” I said, readying my excuse. “I thought a longer mane would work well for the part of Celestia.”

“That’s a good idea,” Stardust said. “Although, It does kind of make me wish you were an actual filly…”

“What!?” I belted out.

She took a few steps back and shook her head defensively. “I guess what I mean is that if we’re going to be the Anti-Annuity Alliance, we need a queen bee of our own. Since Zap’s on the other team, it can’t be her, so it’s a shame you can’t take over.”

“Aren’t we just supposed to be a tactical alliance?” I asked. “Why would we need a queen bee? Besides, can’t it be—I don’t know—an emperor penguin, instead?”

“Well, we can do other stuff than plot against Annuity,” Style offered. “We can have sleepovers!” Stardust high-fived her. “Fillies only, though, so sorry, River.”

Why include me, then?

“Ooh! Sounds fun!” Pink Diamond said, springing out of nowhere. “Can I join?”

Style and Stardust blinked a couple of times. “The point of the alliance is to protect you,” Stardust explained. “It kind of defeats the purpose if you join...”

“Alliance?” Diamond asked confused. She then looked like she was going to beg, but the ringing of the bell cut off any pointless debate. I awkwardly broke off from my new allies and made my way to the drinking fountain. In one respect the game was working as intended: I was very thirsty after all that running.

When everyone had gathered back inside Fizzle announced that we would continue our readthrough of the play.

“Anypony have any questions before we start?” Predictably the crystal filly raised her hoof. “Yes, Diamond?”

“Since we’re doing a play, does that mean I’m going to inherit Cotton Candy’s part?”

“Yes, let’s see here,” Fizzle said, flipping through her notes. “Cotton Candy was going to play… a tree....”

The class laughed.

“That’s so cool!” Diamond squeed. “You mean I’m playing Ageon the Arborable? The pithy treant sage?”

“Actually, that’s my part,” Skywatcher corrected. “You’re just an ordinary tree.”

“Oh…” for once, the filly actually looked deflated, and Mrs. Fizzle picked up on this.

“It’s actually a very important part,” Mrs. Fizzle insisted. “When Quarrel uses his chaos magic on you, you get to tickle the princesses.”

“Neato!” Diamond’s smile returned.

“And let’s not forget Celestia’s epiphany when an apple falls on her head. That’s arguably the turning point of the entire play,” Fizzle explained.

Diamond gasped. “Are you sure you can trust me with such an important part?”

“Don’t worry,” Annuity said. “I’m sure you’ll be perfect for the part. You obviously have the same infectious charisma that Cotton Candy had. Try not to upstage Princess River,”

The filly looked at me with wide eyes. “You’re a Princess, River? I’m so sorry. Where are my manners? Forgive this peasant girl’s unrefined ways, Your Majesty.”

I briefly went red, but the laughter of my classmates diffused the momentary tension of her brushing up dangerously closely to my secret.

“The play,” I said a bit too quickly. “I’m playing Princess Celestia in the play.”

For some reason, she looked me over and nodded her approval.

“My classmates voted for me. It’s a strange decision, but I had no choice,” I tacked on.

“What are you talking about? You’ll make a great princess!” Diamond said with her usual enthusiasm.

Annuity snickered at this and raised her foreleg for a hoofbump. Confused, but happy to participate, Diamond bumped hooves with her.

“Yeah, River, you’re the prettiest colt I know,” Annuity added.

Diamond forced a laugh to fit in with Annuity’s posse.

I briefly found myself regretting my promise to Star. I had no desire to protect this filly if she was going to turn into one of Annuity’s sycophants. A little late as usual, Fizzle then cut off the discussion and redirected the class.

“Let’s pick up with the scene where the princesses present their grand proposal. Unbeknownst to them, Quarrel has been responsible for the seemingly clerical mistakes that have undermined the negotiations thus far, leading up to this bold switcharoo. This scene is probably the greatest example of dramatic irony in the play. Nopony but the audience knows that the other races received a drastically different proposal. And... begin.”

“Thank you for agreeing to discuss this with us on such short notice, Gentlemen,” Zap said.

“After reading what you really think, princesses, we could hardly stand idly by,” Daybreak read flatly.

Fizzle shook her head. “No, Daybreak, you are irate. Say every word like you are personally offended."

“Do you believe this is even possible, Princess?” Granite Hammer asked me.

“While it may be beyond our current capabilities, if we harness the magic of friendship, I am certain that the dream will one day be within reach.”

“So, Gentlemen, pray tell us, what do you truly think? A modest proposal is it not?”

“No, Zap, Princess Luna is being ironic with that line. It’s far from a modest proposal.”

Mortar Strike pounded his desk. “Quite frankly, this document speaks for itself.”

“We had hoped as much,” I said.

Ouch. I can’t imagine that going over well with the other delegates.

Jill cleared her throat. “Princess Celestia, Gildeus finds this proposal hard to believe. Do you truly intend for this to apply to all other races, minotaurs included?”

“Of course it will apply to you as well. We can’t imagine it working any other way,” Zap explained.

For the first time, I started to appreciate this play. The scene built spectacularly. With every single line, the misunderstanding compounded. And each side being blind to the subtle hints that not everything was right was something I could easily see happening in Equestria.

The only problem was as the scene built, something was building within me as well. It was a feeling well-known to me, yet at the same time very different. Anxious, I started kicking my dangling hindlegs in my desk.

I probably shouldn’t have drank so much water…

“You truly stand by this policy, Princess?” Thaumaturgical asked, deepening his dorky voice to play Dragon Lord Torch.

“Yes, we believe Equus will be a better place if all races voluntarily submit to this policy,” I said, rushing through the line. “Think about how much safer travel will be and how much happier everypony will be as a result.”

“Everypony?” Iron Jill asked.

“No, Jill, don’t read it so quickly. Sound like you abhor the idea. Say it with disgust.”

I crossed my hindlegs to offset some of the pressure on my bladder.

I think I can hold it, but then again, I don’t know how long I can last as a filly...

I tried to distract myself by focusing on the play, but that just made every line seem all the longer. I don’t know how I did it, but eventually we made it to the big reveal.

“So, Gentlemen, clearly the decision here is obvious. Do we have an agreement?” Zap asked.

“Indeed,” Daybreak said. “We accept this as a declaration of war.”

“War!? Surely this is a call for peace,” I read.

“You insult us, Princess,” said Granite.

“Do you not see the benefit?” Zap asked forcefully. “Treating everypony equally is a goal worth short-term sacrifice. You’re threatening war over a fundamental good!?”

“Short-term!?” Mortar asked, aghast.

Iron Jill pounded her desk. “Indeed. Gildeus doesn’t want to be turned into a wimpy pony.”

“What dost thou meanst? Did you not read what’s in front of you?” Zap asked archaically.

“We can read, Princess,” Skywatcher read. “Your xenophobic policy of forced ponification is perfectly clear to see.”

At this point, the stage directions indicated for Luna to swipe a copy of the proposal from another delegate.

“What is the meaning of this!?” Zap bellowed, wings jutting outward.

“Yes, what do you think we’ve been getting at this time?” said Style. “Just because we deer have long enjoyed cordial relations with the ponies doesn’t mean we’re willing to submit to pony hegemony.

“We can explain!” Zap proclaimed forcefully. “Our proposals they’ve been tampered with!”

“Still with the same excuse, Princess? A typo is understandable. A manifesto for a one-world government is no mistake," Daybreak read.

“Please, Gentlemen!” I pleaded through clenched teeth, kicking my hindlegs again.

“Save it!” Mortar Strike shouted. “We’ll let our citizens judge for themselves the true colors of Equestria’s benevolent monarchs.”

“I don’t see why we need to waste our time,” Spectacle said. “We have an anti-pony coalition assembled here and now. I call for a group declaration of war against Equestria.

“Seconded,” Granite said.

“Gentlemen!” Zap pleaded.

“Please see reason,” I begged. Nopony would ever believe something so extreme. This is a setup!”

“War!”

“War!” the other delegates chanted.

The stage directions indicated for me and Luna to look devastated, but I was preoccupied.

Annuity, Bubble and Pestle laughed out-of-sync.

The awkward, forced nature of it brought a fitting silence to the room.

“Quarrel!” I shouted.

More laughter.

“Umm how do you want us to do this?” Pestle asked.

“Count down from three,” Fizzle offered. “Quarrel is an entity of chaos so it would create a dissonant effect if all three of you read the line at the same time. Let’s try. Three… two… one.”

“Oh you should have seen the look on your faces,” the three fillies said. “My you all really take yourselves so seriously. You need to loosen up, like my adorable little pony friends here.”

The stage directions instructed Quarrel to hug Celestia and Luna.

“Chimeric abomination! Proposing this atrocity was your idea of a joke?” Mortar Strike read hammily.

“Guilty,” the trio said. “Seriously, though you all need to lighten up. Maybe you could learn a thing or two about harmony…”

“We have our pride,” Mortar Strike projected.

“Really now. Don’t knock it until you try it…”

I gasped. Quarrel actually turns the griffon delegation into ponies. The “griffins” did a good job at freaking out about this.

“Gentlemen, calm down,” Zap urged. “Not even Quarrel’s magic can change what you are at a fundamental level. You’ll change back.”

“Change us back now!”

“What fun would that be?” the three fillies asked.

“Quarrel!” I grunted.

“Oh, all right. No need to be such a buzzkill, Princess.”

Quarrel turned them back. I had to wonder how we would represent this in the production.

“You know you squandered an opportunity many would envy— a chance to see life from another perspective.”

The next couple of lines were the griffin delegation calling Quarrel various permutations of the word fiend. Quarrel blew a raspberry and disappeared, electing to “share his brand of whimsy with someone who would appreciate it.”

“Very good, everypony. Since we have some time left, let’s loop back around to the beginning of the play—to the very first scene.”

“Mrs. Fizzle!” I called out. I wasn’t normally one to interrupt, but at this point I felt a sudden pain just below my stomach.

“Yes, River?”

“May I use the bathroom?”

“Of course, Princess.”

The class laughed.

Not her too!

Trotting to the front of the room, I took the pink hall-pass in my mouth. Truthfully, I didn’t understand the point of this exercise as there was no hall to speak of, but I wasn’t one to question protocol. Pressure mounting, I galloped out of the classroom and towards the small side-building housing the restrooms.

I approached the colts’ room and jerked at the handle.

Locked.

This was strange; they were never locked during recess.

Confused, I inspected the lock and saw a shining symbol inscribed above it. The hall pass was shimmering as well, and I turned it over to see a matching symbol.

Great. A magical lock. Did Mrs. Fizzle give me the wrong key?

Sure enough, I held the pink slip up to the door to the fillies’ room and I heard a click as that door’s rune glowed green. Sighing, I turned back towards the school building. Despite my bladder’s protests, I wasn’t about to use the fillies’ room.

A fragment of intuition flashed through my mind, and I froze outside the classroom door. Frantically, I ran back to the bathroom doors and inspected the symbols. My hall pass, the fillies’ room and the colts’ room all had the same pentagon symbol.

What am I worried about anyway? I wondered.

Then I suddenly remembered seeing a similar rune the day Trusty had taken me to Happy Hayburger. Didn’t one of the workers bring a highchair to our table by mistake? I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but in hindsight, she had said something about a sensor malfunctioning. It hit me: my magical signature—they had known!

Hesitantly, I hovered my hoof over the handle of the fillies’ room.

No, this is ridiculous, I thought, turning away. The slip is pink; it has to be the key to the fillies’ room. Besides, there’d be no reason to go to such lengths to keep fillies out of the colts’ room.

Hopping in place, I made my way back towards the classroom building—and once more I came to a halt at the handle. It was clear to me: on the off chance that I was wrong about this, everypony would know my gender.

But what if it’s pink for the reason? I thought. Won’t everypony know I used the fillies’ room?

However, I once more felt a sharp pain. Like it or not the decision had been made for me.

As quickly and discreetly as possible, I dashed into one of the stalls. After a tense minute of praying nopony else would need to go, I flung the stall door open and hastily washed my hooves. Sanctuary in sight, I galloped out of the fillies room, relieved—only to trip over Pink Diamond in the doorway.

Chapter 23

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter 24

It was another beautiful day at Cookie Court. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the clichés were in full-bloom. Outside the massively oversized double-doors, foals from all over Equestria queued up for an audience with the princess. Aside from the safety-glass windows, The room as a whole was padded. And the floor deformed under the ponies’ hooves. There was also, the otherworldy pink mist, which was completely normal and nopony thought twice about.

Of course, the highlight of Cookie Court was its princess—me. I sat on my silver beanbag throne at the center of the room. I was positioned directly below the skylight, which meant around midday I had to put up with the worst glare. Honestly, I had a couple of complaints about the room’s layout, but it had turned out fairly well for using foals as the architects.

I had established Cookie Court to permit the underrepresented colt and filly population to have a voice. All the adults called it adorable, but Cookie Court addressed the most serious of matters!

Wearing her characteristic stoic smile the captain of my guard led in the first petitioner. He was a dark gray pegasus colt with yellow mane.

“Thank you, Bulwark,” I said, as the guardsfilly rounded off to my side.

My unicorn scribe unfurled a scroll, cleared her throat and made her announcement: “Presenting Thundercloud. Five years-old, from Fluffyvale.”

“What can I do for you, my little pony?” I asked, putting on a princessly smile.

“Huh?” The colt said. “But I’m five and you’re littler than I am.”

I waved my hoof dismissively. “Semantics. Anyway, I hear you have a personal grievance.”

“Yes, Your Highness. My moms say I have to go to bed at 7:30, and I’m sick of it!”

“Lucky,” I murmured. “That’s later than my bedtime…”

“But my friends get to stay up until 9:00”

“What!?” I exclaimed, as my tiny wings flared out dramatically and I fluttered upwards. This might have been imposing, but my mane flopped over my eyes in the process. With a hop in her step, Sunny Style pulled out her brush and combed my mane out of my face. It helped to have a scribe who could do other things. Dignity restored, I struck a regal pose. But this time, my crown fell off.

Thundercloud giggled as my colt advisor levitated the crown back on.

Restraining myself this time, I pronounced my wise ruling.

“As princess of Cookie Court, I hereby proclaim that you shall no longer have a bedtime!”

Silence hung in the air as my words sunk in. I was so sagacious!

“Princess…” my advisor interjected. However, I wasn’t done.

“And furthermore, you shall have unlimited snacks!”

“But I didn’t ask for…”

“All judgments are final!”

Style unfurled another scroll and read rapid-fire: “Judgments are final pending review and approval of a senior princess. No purchase necessary. Void where prohibited. Offer not valid in Neighbraska. Grown-ups are prohibited.”

My advisor tried once more to get my attention. “Princess Alice, I am obligated to remind you that you do not have jurisdiction over parent-foal relations.”

I pouted. “That’s a stupid rule.”

After a moment, I started to fidget.

“Somepony get me a cookie,” I ordered. “Please,” I added. After all, I may be a pony princess, but I didn’t have to be a bossy one.

A servant entered carrying a cookie three times my size. My teeth may not have fully developed yet, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from enjoying my treat. In the course of several minutes, I gradually nibbled off one of the corners like a beaver gradually felling a tree. Satisfied, I rubbed my stomach contentedly.

“Next!” I bellowed.

“But you haven’t solved my problem yet,” the colt reminded me.

Cursing my attention span, I racked my brain for a solution.

“How about this, then? You can ask your parents for a later bedtime in exchange for completing some additional responsibilities.”

“What does that mean?” the colt asked.

“It’s give and take,” I explained. “It’s like you give a cookie to get a cookie.”

“I don’t get it,” the petitioner said.

“You don’t need to get it. Let your princess handle everything,” I said with a smile.

I called for a crayon and parchment and started to write. In the course of what felt like two hours of hard work, I meticulously outlined the subtleties of the arrangement. I suggested a couple of chores Thundercloud could do to for a later bedtime and other ways he could show his moms he was responsible enough to stay up late. When finished I handed it over to Style, who proceeded to transcribe it on the back side while sprinkling in legalese. It also helped that her writing was actually legible.

Accepting the piece of paper, the colt was still confused. Sensing this I reassured him: “Trust me, take this to your parents and it’ll at least start a conversation.”

“Okay…” the pegasus said. “I’ll take it, but I liked what you said before better.”

“Me too.”

“Next!” I said, pressing a button. A trapdoor opened up, and gasping, the colt slid into a dark abyss.

I giggled. I never tired of seeing ponies’ reactions to my dismissal mechanism. I reasoned the momentary surprise was a fair toll for getting to play in my super-fun ball pit.

Bulwark then opened the candy-cane double doors and two dark purple, pink-maned fillies entered. Thinking I was seeing double I blinked a couple of times. Sure enough, my eyes had not deceived me.

“Presenting Pink Plum and Plum Pink,” Style announced, confirming my suspicions that these were twins. “They are twenty-eight years-old and hail from far-off Canterlot.”

Style was silly sometimes. Canterlot is right here; it’s not far away. But she was so useful otherwise, that I could forgive her ignorance of geography.

“What can I do for you, my little ponies?”

In perfect sync, the two of them explained: “Our parents say we have to share everything because we’re twins, but we’re sick of sharing. They bought us this super fun bouncy ball for our birthday, and we both want to play with it all the time.”

“Can I see it?” I asked.

Reluctantly, they rolled it over to me and I stepped down from my vantage point.

I bounced it on the floor and it sprung all the way up to the ceiling. As it ricocheted around the room, I giggled blithely as everypony else ducked for cover. My completely scientific curiosity satisfied, I now completely understood why the fillies didn’t want to share such a neat toy.

“I’ve got it!” I exclaimed. “I hereby order two new balls to be provided to you, so you won’t have to share.” Reaching out, I plucked the bouncing ball out of the air. “I guess I’ll take this boring old ball off your hooves, then.”

My advisor tapped me on the withers. “Princess you’ve already spent our entire budget for this week.”

"What!? Already? How?”

“It was the giant cookies that put us over the top I believe. Just because they’re cheaper by the dozen doesn’t mean you have to buy them in bulk.”

I frowned. Squirt could definitely be a buzzkill at times. But then again, I didn’t know where I’d be without him.

“Ponyfeathers. I guess we’ll have to do this the boring way again.” I rolled my eyes, and pushed the ball back towards the siblings. After twenty minutes of bickering, all parties ultimately signed the agreement: the ball would be shared with three days apiece, when they would play with it exclusively together on Mondays. I made the brilliant suggestion that they keep a running balance of when one sister shares her time, so that the other will know to reciprocate. Finally, the climax arrived, and I gleefully pressed the button to dismiss the petitioners.

Mouth agape, I Remembered at the last second and grabbed the ball in my magic. It would have defeated the entire point if the ball had been lost among the others in the pit. Handing it to a servant to deliver it to the ball pit’s exit, I let out a cute sigh.

“We’re done, right?” I asked. “Three’s usually the magic number.”

“Actually, Princess, the twins still only count as one request.”

I yawned. “Aren’t I supposed to be getting something like sixteen hours of sleep?”

“Rest assured, Princess. We are still on schedule.”

With a smile Bulwark trotted to the double-doors once more and opened them. To my surprise I saw a cream-colored earth pony colt my age float into the room. Then, a slightly older filly came into view through the pink mist, holding him by the neck. Even before Style’s announcement, I knew the last petitioner couldn’t be older than ten.

Her teal coat shined with such luster that I could have mistaken her for a crystal pony, while her caramel mane was in a bun. Strangely, the infant’s mane was cut unevenly and braided into a ponytail on one side.

Style whipped out her scroll once more and cocked her head in confusion. Shrugging, she showed the scroll to Squirt, who also became perplexed.

“Hey, Chamberlain!” Squirt called. “Is this some kind of joke?”

The brown-coated stallion slipped into the room. “No,” he explained, “that is in fact her name and home city.

“Every other letter has a funny squiggly thing over it,” Style complained.

“Just do your best,” the lone adult said reassuringly.

“Pass,” Style said, shaking her head. “Presenting a seven-year-old filly and a one-year-old colt, At least that’s what the numbers appear to be. Why don’t you state your names for the court, since there’s no way I’m going to be able to say them.”

“Oh, that must be my true name,” the filly explained, gently putting the colt down. “We can’t pronounce it yet, so everypony just calls me House Keeper.”

This was a strangely restrictive name, even for a pony. I checked the filly’s flank, but it was as blank as my own.

“And this is my little brother, Glorious Successor.”

I giggled. That sure was a silly name.

“What can I help you two with?” I asked, stifling my laughter.

“Actually, it’s just me. I had to bring him too because he’s my responsibility. But it’s because of him that I’m here. I have lots of brothers and sisters, and my mommy says I have to learn to take care of them.”

“Well, I’m an only filly, so I can’t speak from experience, but with big families, everypony needs to help out sometimes,” I offered.

The young colt started to cry and the filly summoned a bottle out of nowhere to appease him with.

As Successor suckled, the filly wore an expression of consternation as she tried to give voice to her thoughts. “I love my little brothers and sisters, but I’m taking care of them all the time! I hardly get any time to play.”

“What!? No playtime? This is an outrage,” I squeaked.

Furthering her complaint, she added, “And when I am allowed to play it’s always dolls, dolls, and dolls! I don’t like dolls!”

“Everypony should have toys she enjoys,” I professed. “What toys do you like? We can buy you some.”

“Princess, the budget…” Squirt prompted.

“What toys do you like?” I repeated.

The filly suddenly looked very nervous. “I don’t know. Maybe, I would like to try model kits like my brothers have. I don’t know, but I just don’t like dolls. And I want to help my dad find what he’s looking for when I get older!”

“Well, what do your parents say?” I asked.

House sniffled. “I asked my mommy, and she petitioned daddy for me, but he got mad at us. He told her I must learn my place in life.” Tears came to her eyes. “Please, can you help me?” She said, as her voice trailed off and turned into a screech. I plugged my ears to keep out the awful noise, but meanwhile, The murmur of feedback became more and more acrid.

“Please…”

My forehead throbbed and I awoke in a sweat.

‘Good morning.” Luna greeted me as I sprung up to all-fours.

Panting, I looked to her for some reassurance.

“Should I have intervened?” she asked.

“No, you did the right thing. That was just weird,” I said. “I wasn’t myself.”

“It’s entirely normal. In dreams we will often accept the most absurd of premises. You just happened to buy into your role this time.”

I scowled. “It feels like I let that blasted stallion beat me again, though. I don’t like it, not one bit.”

Luna responded with a quick hug that wasn’t entirely unappreciated.

“Did you see all of that?” I asked, hopeful.

“I did,” Luna said with a guilty smile. “I must confess it was utterly adorable.”

Ignoring the “compliment” I explained, “My main concern is the last filly.” Her predicament was eerily similar to my own, but worse. Despite her wishes, she was being forced into a nurturing role.

“Is there any chance this filly is real?” I asked.

Luna shook her head. “I doubt it. Mares have always been the privileged gender in Equestria. There are some cultures that have glorified stallions, but those cultures have become less orthodox as of late. It is more likely that your subconscious assembled this scenario out of your own fears.”

I thought back to the filly’s tears. Somehow they seemed to transcend the pink-tinted reality of the dreamscape.

“Well, you came to the trouble to greet me by my bedside. I take it you’ve deduced something?”

Luna shook her head. “Not really. It has merely been a while since you’ve had such a memorable dream where you played the part of an alicorn foal. I merely wanted to check on you.”

“Aren’t you concerned with this pattern?” I demanded. “I mean, the brown stallion has already shown me my coronation. It seems like he wants me to conform to this princess thing. This could be quite bad.”

“I had a similar suspicion,” Luna noted. “However, I have heavily scrutinized your dreams for any trace of mind magic, and excluding the typical shroud of suspension of disbelief, there has been no trace.”

I checked the clock. I had just enough time for breakfast. Slipping the ring on my horn, I combed my mane over my forehead. Self-conscious about Luna’s watchful gaze, l asked my guest, “I’m sorry. Was there anything else? I kind of just slipped into my routine.”

Luna smiled and her horn glowed. “Actually, yes, these came for you.” A small pile of letters floated towards me.

“I got mail?” I asked stupidly. “I fanned them out in my hoof. “Three? But who would want to send me a letter?”

Luna smiled. “There’s only one way to find out.”

I examined the first, cyan envelope and saw that it had no return address, or anything beyond my name for that matter. What stood out was the penmanship—it was impeccable. Curiosity finally overcoming me, I ripped it open and unfolded a single sheet of stationary with a rose bush in the background. It was clearly a pre-printed template with the details filled in by hand.

You are invited!

Who: River Glade

What: Iron Jill’s slumber party

When: Next Monday starting after school.

Where: 1803 N. Wicker Way

Why: Good food, games and so much more. It’s not to be missed

I looked up and Luna was still standing there scrutinizing my expression. “Oh, don’t mind me,” she said, flicking her forehoof. “Though I have to confess curiosity as to what brought on this deluge of mail.”

“I got invited to a slumber party,” I said flatly, hoofing over the stationary.

“Rather to the point isn’t it?” Luna commented. “Though I suppose it’s in the tradition of minotaur pragmatism. Well, are you going?”

“I don’t know yet,” I said, though I doubt I did a good job of hiding my reluctance towards the idea.

“I’ll probably want to talk to Iron Jill first.”

Luna cracked a grin. “I suppose you wouldn’t much appreciate it were I to intone that social gatherings would be good for you.”

“You suppose correctly.” I said simply. “Your sister does that well enough.”

The next envelope contained a card with a starry sky printed on the front. Opening it, I was met with small, evenly-spaced print.

Dear, River Glade

We hope you are doing well. You probably know that Squirt doesn’t want a cuteceanera, so it might come as a surprise that this is precisely what we are inviting you to. After all, it’s a once-in-a-lifteime event, and we don’t want Squirt to look back and regret not having one. We know he doesn’t like large crowds, so we’ve hoof-picked only his closest friends to join us. We’re sure it would mean a lot to him if you came.

One more thing: It’s a surprise party, so try not to say anything. We haven’t quite determined the date yet, so let us know if you are coming and we’ll keep you informed.

Thank You,

Coffee Swirl and Latte Swirl.

Gently closing the card, I again presented it to Luna. “This one I’m probably going to,” I said. “Squirt might be my favorite classmate, and if we’re going to celebrate him finding his talent—well that’s more than enough reason to have a party.”

Luna nodded wordlessly.

“As for the final invitation…”

I quickly tore it open and beheld an ornate card design with what appeared to be fake gold leaf. I scanned it quickly and then again to make sure I had read it correctly.

I was stunned into silence.

“Well?” Luna finally after a patient minute of waiting.

I blinked a couple of times and checked the invitation one last time, making sure “Just Kidding” wasn’t inscribed on the back.

“Apparently, I’m invited to Annuity’s birthday party.” I said through a nervous laugh. “How about that?”

"Now, class, exponents may seem intimidating at first, but all you need to remember is that it’s a little counter telling you how many times to multiply a number by itself,” Fizzle reminded us following our work with small groups.

I had been paired with Style and Stardust. Since we were rapidly approaching the endpoint of my original mathematics education, I made sure to pay extra attention. But it didn’t help that all the two of them wanted to do was plot our next move against Annuity. Thankfully, I found exponents an easy topic; it would be roots that would be trouble for me. I probably would have to learn Equestrian decimals in order to cope.

Fizzle clasped her hooves together. “Okay, time to go over your answers. Let’s start with… Pish’s group.”

The named filly started to stand up, but Annuity put a hoof to her withers and waved Pink Diamond to stand up.

“Okay, Pink Diamond, what did your group come up with for the first problem—2^3?”

“Two to the third power is nine!” The filly announced confidently.

The room went silent. Fizzle betrayed a wisp of disappointment before turning back on her aura of eternal patience.

“How’d you get that answer?” she asked.

This put a damper on Pink Diamond’s peppiness. “Well, I thought the exponent was the big number—like, you know, something that expounds goes outward. And three times three is nine…”

I felt bad for the filly, but I couldn’t understand how she could’ve made that mistake. Fizzle had given us many examples already.

“Did I get it backwards?” Diamond asked.

Fizzle nodded and trotted towards the board. “It’s the other way around. Two to the third power means two multiplied by itself three times. Two times two is four, and you do it one more time to get four times two makes eight.”

“Oh…”

Our turn came next, and I announced that 4^3 is sixty-four. Considering I only had to say the number and didn’t have to convert it into its base twenty-three written form, I had no fears of botching my conversion.

Six problems later, it came back around to Annuity’s group.

“Pish, why don’t you take this one?” Fizzle prompted.

Diamond stood up, nervous. “Actually… I’d like to redeem myself,” Diamond announced.

Fizzle nodded. “That’s fine with me. Pish?”

“I have no objections,” the filly said.

Pink Diamond seemed to recapture some of her enthusiasm as she announced triumphantly, “One to the one power has to be zero!”

Before Fizzle could correct her, she continued. “Since exponents are like multiplying with that many numbers, and multiplying with one number is silly. The answer’s zero!”

“That’s a good thought,” Fizzle said encouragingly. “You’re trying to reason it out for yourself, which is good. Unfortunately, the mathematical definition of a number to the first power is itself. You can think of the number 1 as always being 1 to the first power, we just don’t write it that way. The same is true with all natural numbers: two is secretly two to the first power; three is secretly three to the first power. If it helps you, you can think that something to the first power means to just the number by itself.”

"I see…” Diamond murmured, discouraged.

I glanced at Annuity, who was doing her best to hide a smirk.

When the bell rang, I promptly pulled my desk away from the others’. Stardust was drumming her hooves on her desk. “Annuity tricked Pink Diamond. I just know it!”

I shrugged. “You’re probably right, but you can’t prove it.”

“River’s right,” Style said resignedly. “I don’t like it either, but the AAA has to pick its battles. This one we can’t win.”

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Stardust pronounced. “It makes me want to do something. That’s it! We can recruit new members since we’re going to be trapped inside by rain.”

“Rain?” I asked, confused. “It looked perfectly clear this morning.”

The fillies laughed.

“Good one River!” Stardust exclaimed, raising a hoof, which I bumped.

“An oldie but a goodie,” Style added.

“Your delivery is what nailed it! You really sounded like you actually didn’t know!”

“Know what?”

The fillies snorted in amusement.

“You know, never mind,” I said. I would ask later, as I had clearly escaped without making a fool of myself.

With our desks returned to their original positions, Pestle took out a familiar gold-tinted card and waved it around.

“Well. Well. Well. It looks like somepony wants me at her party after all.”

“No!” Annuity wailed, jumping onto Pestle’s desk from the top of her own. She snatched at the invitation. “Give me that!”

“I see how it is,” Pestle said, tugging back. “When we butt heads, what you’re trying to say is that deep down you really want to be friends. That’s so sweet”

"As if, Pestle Nix!” Annuity grumbled. “My mother sent them out to everypony in the class—even though I told her not to.”

There was a clamoring of happy surprise as those whose invitations hadn’t yet reached them learned for the first time that they would be able to attend Annuity’s coveted birthday bash.

Pestle and Annuity lunged at each other, neither relinquishing the invitation. As they started to skirmish, their kicks at one another kicked up a violent cloud of dust. This obscured both participants and they wrestled on the desk.

“Girls! Girls!” Mrs. Fizzle called out, running up to separate them. As her magic pulled the two of them apart, both were still clinging onto the invitation with their teeth. Even magically, restrained, the two of them continued the tug-of-war. Neither refused to yield, and finally the invitation split down the middle. Pestle spit out her half with a smile on her face.

“Fine I didn’t want to come anyway.”

Annuity looked simultaneously relieved and disappointed at this outcome.

After Ms. Fizzle forced apologies out of them, Annuity pompously hummed and turned her head.

“Whatever,” Annuity said. “You coming, Zap?”

“Sure!” Zap said, chipper, fluttering.

“Can I come too?” Pink Diamond asked.

“Of course.”

Meanwhile, Stardust joined Style at the desk behind Beakington.

“Okay, recruitment time!” Stardust said. “Beakington, Spectacle, River. We’ll handle the fillies, and you guys can talk to the colts.”

The griffin shrugged. “Sure.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I said, unenthused. “I’ll tell Spectacle.”

“I think I know who to start with,” Stardust said, eyeing Pestle.

However, at that moment, I heard the unzipping of a large saddlebag. I turned my head towards the source and saw Bubble Bauble in the back corner starting to place various trinkets on her desk. Stardust and Style exchanged a glance and started to gallop towards her. Gradually, most of the fillies in the room started to run over to their cubbies to retrieve their bit purses. Once the scuffle near the cubbies had cleared up, there was a mad race over to Bubble Bauble.

“What’s happening?” I asked Beakington

"Oh, a couple of times a year Bubble Bauble brings her crafts in for sale. She wants to design jewelry. She’s really good at what she does. All the fillies love her work.”

The female members of the AAA came trotting back. Style was wearing what appeared to be a faux pearl necklace, while Stardust wore a single ruby earring.

“How do we look, River?” Stardust asked, giggling.

“Good,” I said placatingly. “Wait, is that a real ruby!?”

“Yep!” the filly said, posing to show off her new earring.

Wow. I guess Canterlot is more affluent than I thought.

"I can’t wait to show my mom!” Style said.

Wait…

"That’s all well and good,” I said, “but aren’t you providing funds to the enemy, or something like that?”

The unicorn fillies exchanged a glance, and they momentarily frowned.

“Well, I guess that’s one way to think about it, but Bubble’s stuff is too good to pass up!” Style finally conceded.

“Yeah,” Stardust agreed. “Bubble Bauble is sometimes mean, but she’s just following Annuity.”

Just following orders, huh?

“Anyway good luck,” Style wished us, scurrying off.

“So, what now?” I asked Beakington.

“I don’t know,” the griffin confessed. “I personally think we should actually do something about Annuity before we ask others to join us.”

“Yeah, I agree. Besides, aren’t I supposed to be the leader?”

Beakington shook his head. “I think Stardust has become the de facto leader regardless of what you decided before.”

“Then why bother designating me as the leader in the first place?”

“Beats me. So how do you want to do this?”

“Hey, River,” Squirt called, “do you want to play cards?”

I glanced to my right and saw Squirt shuffling a deck of cards with a purple diamond on their back. I was intrigued by the prospect and wondered how they differed from our playing cards back on Rhod.

Beakington picked up on this. “You go ahead. I’ll handle the ‘recruiting.’”

“You sure? I’d feel bad foisting it on you.”

“Well then, you can ask Squirt to join us,” the griffin said simply.

“Hey, Squirt, we formed an Alliance against Annuity. Do you want to join?” I whispered

“Not really.” He answered quickly. “Annuity and I have an understanding: I stay away from her and in return, she doesn’t pick on me.”

“Cool,” I replied, envious. “How’d you get that arrangement?”

Squirt laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “My sisters are really well-connected…”

“I don’t suppose you could get that for me too?” I asked, only half-serious.

“River!” Beakington scolded, with a hint of betrayal in his voice.

Squirt shook his head. “No can do. It’s a long story, but what I did will only work once.”

“No problem,” I said. “Let’s play.”

He taught me to play a game called war. For its imposing name it was incredibly unexciting. There was no strategy whatsoever and solely depended on the luck of the draw.

“So you got your colors back I see.”

“Yeah,” I said, having forgotten about the ring. “I’m surprised no one else has commented.”

Equestrian playing cards were surprisingly similar to Rhod cards. The only difference was that the cards went from one to thirteen with no jokers, aces or royalty. This simplified things a bit, but the game lost a bit of flavor for it. Then again, with sitting royalty, face cards may have been controversial.

As my eight defeated Squirt’s six, he yawned as I took the first game. “War is a good first game since you said you’d never played cards before, but it’s a snooze.”

“You mean you’re not having fun either?”

“Naw. So you want to try something else?”

“Sure!”

At this time, having overheard us, Thaumaturgical and Beakington came over.

“Can we play?” the colt asked.

“Perfect timing,” Squirt remarked. “How about a round of go-fish.”

Murmurs of agreement came from behind me as Thaumaturgical and Beakington pressed the closest desks into service to create a larger playing surface. When they explained to me how the game worked, I was once again, struck by the simplicity.

“Do you have a thirteen, River?”

“Go fish,” I said, prompting Spectacle to draw.

“So, Squirt, what do you like to do, anyway?” Beakington asked. “I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure of your company much before.”

“I can’t tell if that’s sarcastic or not,” Squirt said with a chuckle.

“A curse of my accent I’m afraid,” Beakington lamented.

“It’s fine,” Squirt said. “Let’s see, what I probably like the most right now is Runelock: the Sundering. I’m a sucker for booster packs.”

“Me too!” Thaumaturgical said, enthusiastic. “I’m not very good, but we should bring our decks sometime and we can play!”

Squirt shook his head. “I’ve asked before. We’re not allowed to bring our cards to school.”

“Oh…” Thaumaturgical said.

“I can’t say I’m acquainted with the game, but what do you enjoy about it?” Beakington asked. “Got a two?”

“Go fish,” Squirt said. “What I like is that the game is so well-balanced. Even the common cards aren’t completely useless and there’s a deck type that can make use of them. Naturally, it’s not perfect, as Warlocks, Inc. wants its money so they keep printing overpowered incredirare cards. I’ve gotten one—ever. And I’m lucky.

“What’s the game about?” I asked, as we continued to play.

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” Squirt answered. “Basically, there are rune cards, creature cards, resource cards and upgrade cards. What you try to do is build a civilization while warring with your opponent. First player to accomplish three grand feats is the winner.”

“Sounds complicated,” I said, starting to regret I had asked.

“It’s better than it sounds. I assure you,” Thaumaturgical added.

The conversation stalled there and we finished the first game, with Beakington coming out on top. As Squirt shuffled the cards, Beakington tried to rekindle the discussion: “Anypony here like hoofball?”

“Not really,” Squirt said.

“It’s not for me,” Thaumaturgical answered. “I respect the athleticism it requires, but I just don’t like the aesthetic of the game.”

“No…” I hesitated. Since it was a colt thing, I considered lying to fit in, but I would be clueless if pressed.

“Oh…” Beakington said, deflated. “I’m not a huge fan myself, but Deadeye did something amazing yesterday! He made a brilliant play with his wings and tripped up one of the defenders. Instead of doing a wraparound, he knocked the pegasus off balance by subtly flicking a couple of his feathers. And…”

Blank stares came from around the playing table.

“Well, I guess you would have had to have seen it…”

I was grateful to not be the focus on the conversation, but unfortunately as they cycled through different topics—fishing, woodwork, magical fireworks—I had little to no input. Still, I wasn’t alone in this respect. In reality, the mishmash group of acquaintances had little in common. When it became my turn to discuss what I liked, I simply raved about the agility course Rainbow had taken me to. They were polite and listened, but none of them were the athletic type.

Later that day, after completing my homework early, I found myself without anything to do. I felt a tightness in my chest as attention zoned in on my new filly body. It was unnerving. I anticipated anxiety, disgust and malaise, so I immediately threw myself into exercises to keep busy. However, after hopping on and off the bed a few times in my weighted horseshoes, it became pretty clear I had pulled a muscle.

Naturally, Celestia rushed an earth pony medic to me when she found out. He gave me some bitter herbs and massaged my hind leg. This soothed the tension, but he still cautioned me against physical exertion for the next twenty-four hours.

Once more left alone with my thoughts, I hopped up on my bed to reflect on my day. It was a fairly mundane day all-told. Fizzle had been her usual peppy self, Pestle had prodded me, and I had made it through without any major incident regarding my secret. I supposed I should be grateful to Beakington III in that regard. Perhaps he would make a good friend. In fact, all of them might.

I scratched my head in pause. Then again, our little game session had shown we didn’t have much in common. I supposed Beakington and Thaumaturgical had to have some common interests to be friends, but if they were related to collecting bugs, I would have to pass. Why did I need friends anyway? I wasn’t even supposed to be a foal.

Yet, I sure am playing the part of one, I thought somberly. I really was cornered in that regard. I couldn’t interact with adults anymore without being treated like a child, and younger foals were an even worse option. Like it or not, these older children were my peers.

It’s not that bad… Wait! What am I thinking? I can’t get used to this. I’m not supposed to be a pony! I’m not supposed to be a foal. And I’m most certainly not supposed to be a filly! I can’t get complacent or this world may keep adapting me.

I heard a knock on the door.

That’s strange. Celestia said she wouldn’t be checking on me tonight? Who could it be?

Expecting Flower Power with a message, I was surprised that my visitors came up to eye level.

“Hi, River,” Pink Diamond said. “Say, why didn’t you tell me you changed your coat colors? I was telling Annuity that you’d been replaced by an imposter.”

“What do you mean? Doesn’t she alway look like this?” asked a small unicorn filly.

She? Oh, that’s right. I’m a filly to all of these exchange students...

“River, are you shaking?” Diamond asked.

“N—no…”

The pegasus filly in the back stepped forward. “I suppose I should take point, since it’s my idea. Hello, River, my name is New Moon. Princess Celestia suggested that to be a better friend, I needed to practice group interactions, so Pink Diamond offered to help me find some ponies to hang out with. Would you like to join us?”

“Uh…. what?”

I had spaced out, distracted by the brownish-red filly’s oversized bat wings. She was on the taller side with a thick coat. Rounding out her appearance was a curly, light-purple mane and tail.

She giggled. “Let’s start over. My name’s New Moon. It’s nice to meet you, River Glade.”

“Yeah, you too,” I murmured, shuffling my feet.

Tentatively, the third filly, a unicorn, stepped up. “Umm… I’m Cake Slice. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, same,” I said no more enthusiastically.

“We were going to meet in my room, but since we’re all here that would be silly,” Pink Diamond said. “Mind if we chat in here for a bit?”

“Talk? About what?”

The fillies giggled, entering and closing the door behind them. I retreated towards the bed as they continued their ominous advance. Abruptly, the three of them sat down on their haunches in a small three-quarters circle. They patted an open spot. Shrugging,I filled in the missing geometry.

“Thank you for helping me, Diamond.” New Moon said.

“No problem,” the crystal filly replied.

Am I being inducted into some bizarre cult?

“Anyway, I needed some ponies because of what Princess Celestia taught me in my friendship lesson. She says I’m a very loyal friend, but I have problems in groups, so she advised me to get some practice.”

“That must be nice. I haven’t had my first lesson yet,” Cake Slice said.

“You’ll love it!” New Moon proclaimed. “You can tell she’s really put a lot of thought into these lessons.”

I had to stop myself from snickering. The fillies picked up on this, however.

“Umm, yes, she is very wise. I was just remembering my friendship lesson with her.” I gave an abbreviated recap of the fake advice I had offered the Anti-Annuity Alliance. I went quickly since Diamond had already heard. But from how attentively she listened, it would have been nearly impossible to guess.

“I think I like your lessons better than mine,” Diamond declared. “I don’t quite understand what she was getting at with mine.”

“Maybe we can help you!” Cake Slice said.

“Okay! What she told me was that in looking for friends, you sometimes have to be selective. Some ponies you could overlook might be hidden gems—beautiful diamonds.”

The other fillies nodded along.

“But then she said that others might be more coarse. If the right pony finds one of these, she can bring out its luster, but most ponies will just get hurt because they’re unrefined.

"Hmm… that is confusing,” New Moon agreed.

How much help should I give her? I wondered. It was obvious what Celestia was trying to teach her, but maybe she was trying to be subtle for a reason.

“I...I think I know,” Cake said.

“Oh! What!? What!?” Pink Diamond said, bouncing in place.

“Maybe Princess Celestia wants to say that you can learn how to be a gem cutter and turn the ponies that are rough on the outside into hidden gems!”

“Ohh! That makes sense. You’re so smart, Cake.”

The white-coated unicorn blushed. “...Thanks…”

“At school there’s this filly called Annuity who I’m having trouble making friends with. That must be the princess’s way of telling me not to give up!”

I motioned to facehoof, but instead pressed a hoof just below my horn.

Well that backfired. She just promoted herself.

“Speaking of school, how are you liking it? You and River go to Canterlot First, right?”

“Yep,” Diamond said. “It’s really fun! The teacher does this funny thing where she claps her hooves together and says ‘moving on.’ It’s like a catchphrase! There’s the colt named Squirt who says funny things sometimes. And there’s a filly who makes pretty jewelry, though I was too slow to buy anything. We have a green griffin colt as well a minotaur filly named Iron Jill; she’s kind of scary sometimes, but she’s probably nice I think. I did have a bit of an embarrassing incident today, though.”

“Tell us!” New Moon implored.

“Well, we were working on exponents in school, and Mrs. Fizzle had just taught us that the small number at the top is the exponent, while the larger number is the base. However, just before our time was up, Annuity argued that it would make more sense for an exponent to expound and we might be able to impress her by getting the secret answer.”

There’s a surprise…

“And, I got the answer wrong. It was an easy problem, too.”

“Oh…” Cake said.

“I’m sorry, Diamond, that’s always embarrassing, especially when it’s something the teacher just explained. You must have been blushing up a storm,” New Moon said fondly.

“Yeah I was! But that’s not all! The second time around the room, I volunteered to redeem myself. Turns out I overthought 1^1 and got the answer wrong again!”

“Is math a hard subject for you?” Moon asked.

Diamond’s ears drooped. “I’m usually good at it, but now everypony in the class must think I’m stupid.”

“Don’t worry about that,” the bat filly urged. “First impressions can be tough, but if you keep working at it, your math prowess will shine through.”

Feeling bad that I was sitting on the sidelines I cleared my throat to make a token effort against Diamond’s obliviousness. “You know, don’t you think that Annuity’s explanation was kind of ridiculous? I mean, why would a math problem have a secret answer? I think she was trying to trick you.”

“Pffft. Why would she do that?” Diamond said, waving a hoof dismissively. “She was just thinking outside the box; and it was my fault for not knowing better. Besides, the second wrong answer was all me. I don’t get why you don’t like her, River. You should give her another chance. She’s really smart and good to her friends.”

I lowered my head in defeat. Would it be possible to save this filly from herself?

“At our school we have a stallion teacher named Extra Credit. He’s really good,” New Moon said. "We don’t have griffins or minotaurs, but we do have a zebra girl named Mindre. She’s still learning Equish, and her mistakes can be funny at times. I mean, I try to not laugh at her, but sometimes it’s too funny not to laugh.”

New Moon then launched into a story about how she awkwardly tried to engage her crush, a batpony colt, at lunch. She complimented his wings and stammered a bit about not wanting to imply that pegasus wings couldn’t be just as pretty, but he didn’t seem to mind that much. She then went on to describe how athletic, smart and funny this colt was. I managed to extract from her that they were the only batponies in the class and had to wonder if this was the basis of her attraction.

Taking advantage of the pause in the conversation, I turned to Cake Slice for a hopeful change of subject. “I feel like it should be your turn, Cake. How are you liking Canterlot Second?”

“Oh… I’m still trying to make friends. I really have a hard time with that. There’s this filly named Bulwark—I think her name is. She’s somewhat imposing, but she’s actually been very nice to me.

I flashed a smile at her. “I know Bulwark. I’m in the Junior Guards program with her.”

“Really!?”

“Yeah. She can get a bit prideful about what she does, but otherwise she’ll make a good friend.”

New Moon started tapping a forehoof. “Anyway, since I’ve already shared, I figure we should dive into what we’ve all been waiting to talk about!”

“Oooh! Oooh! Our favorite music?” Pink Diamond tried.

“Nope,” the batpony said flatly.

“Is it baking?” Cake Slice tried.

“No!” New Moon said, exasperated. She then turned pleading eyes towards me, imploring me to reassure her we were on the same wavelength.

“Hoofball!” I blurted out through a splitting grin.

“Come on, girls! I mean colts! What’s girl talk without talking about colts?”

“Eh, colts are okay,” I offered weakly.

“Do I have to spell it out!?” New Moon asked. “Crushes—I want to talk about crushes.”

The room went silent, but Moon wasn’t to be deterred. “Diamond, do you have anypony you like?”

“Not yet,” Diamond answered. “I’ve only been at school for two days.”

“Heh,” Moon laughed. “I guess I move quickly. River, you’ve been established at school longer. Got anypony you like?”

Wanting to kill this topic as quickly as possible, I said, “Nope. In fact, I don’t even like colts!”

“Really? You like fillies, River?” Diamond asked.

“N—actually, yes. I only like fillies,” I said, seizing the opportunity.

The fillies exchanged glances and giggled.

“Cake, do you have anypony you like?” I asked her, trying to take the attention off of myself.

The unicorn filly flicked her purple mane with gray and black stripes. “No, I’ve actually never had a crush…”

“Really!? Never?” Moon asked in disbelief.

Cake shook her head. “I’m fifteen, and I haven’t had a crush yet. I’m not sure I’ll ever have one. Sorry I can’t really relate to the discussion…”

“You’re only fifteen?” Diamond asked.

“Unicorn years.” Cake explained. “I’m about the same age as you guys.”

“Oh, I keep forgetting—we only use earth pony years in the Crystal Empire.” She sighed. “I miss my family already.”

“Me too,” New Moon agreed.

“Same…” Cake said.

“Yeah, same,” I said, completing the chain.

“What’s your family like?” New Moon inquired.

“Oh, they’re great. My parents are blacksmiths. They’re hardworking and down-to-earth ponies. And then there’s my brother, Frequency Vibrations. He’s always dancing to his own beat.”

Frequency Vibrations, huh? That’s a stupid name—even for a pony.

Luna silently slid into my room like a wraith. The four of us had talked all the way until curfew. It had been tedious at first, but I had gradually warmed up to the fillies, albeit not by much. I had to embellish bits about my family to share, but it had been fun to come up with pony names for my siblings.

“How can I help you?” I asked when she arrived at my the bedside, without opening my eyes.

“‘Tis much of nothing,” Luna explained. “Tia merely wanted me to check on you since she can’t be seeing you every day anymore.”

“What’s the difference?” I asked. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of giving me less princess face time?”

“My alibi is that I’m here to ward off a particularly bad spell of nightmares.”

“That’s true in a way. If you could keep my dreams from turning weird like last night’s that’d be great.”

Luna nodded. “I’ll stay as long as you want, but neither do I want to keep you up. Is there anything that challenged you today?”

I rolled my head on the pillow. “No, it was a fairly uneventful day,” I put a hoof to my chin. “Then again… my classmates seemed to know ahead of time that it was going to rain during recess. I’m pretty sure you don’t control the weather with satellites, so how do you forecast?”

Luna smiled. “Here in Equestria, the pegasi ponies manufacture the weather. We have factories for clouds, rainbows and snow.”

I should have been shocked, but it made sense with what I had experienced so far. Between the princesses corralling clouds to wash away the Dimaryp and Windy Skies’ song, it all made sense now.

“I do apologize for not filling you in on this significant cultural difference,” Luna said. “Sometimes the things we take for granted might prove quite surprising to an outsider. My best advice is to ask lots of questions.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, closing my eyes again. Quietly Luna walked to the door and started to turn the doorknob with her magic before stopping.

“You do know my sister and I move the sun and moon?”

“Yeah?” I said lazily.

I blinked.

“What!?”

Author's Note

Wow! We're nearly at 500 likes :raritystarry: I may just have to pick up the pace so I can honor that landmark with a chapter. For some reason, this chapter was the hardest thing I've ever written, and I have no idea why.

Also, in writing the bit on exponents I thought of a way I had never thought of before on how to explain why something to the zero power turns out to be one. When you put something to an exponent, you multiply a number by itself (n-1) times so that when something is taken to the zeroth power, you have to figure out a way to multiply a number by itself negative one times. How would you do that? Well, it happens that multiplication and division are opposites, so to multiply a number by itself negative one times, it might follow that you divide the number by itself one time. Sure enough, that’s how it is. This also extends to negative exponents. I’m not claiming this is novel, or even mathematically watertight. I just thought it was a useful way of conceptualizing it.

Chapter 25

Wednesday was completely mundane—and that terrified me. I hadn’t even spent a week as a filly, and already I was settling into complacency. I felt the urge to shake things up, to jolt myself to the impactful realization that this situation was not normal. I had to constantly remind myself that this world had already turned me into a young unicorn girl and that it wasn’t done yet. While Celestia constantly praised my ability to adapt, I worried that if I was too pliable adapting to this new status quo, I would end up presiding over Cookie Court in a few short months. And I might even be okay with it!

To Stardust’s dismay, Annuity had a fairly quiet day of bullying. However, it was not for lack of trying. Pink Diamond was given the lead singing role during music class, and she just killed it. Annuity’s posse did try to sabotage the performance with non-sequitur lines and bizarre choreography, yet Diamond obliviously rolled with the punches and improvised brilliantly to keep the song thematically consistent. Eventually Annuity gave up out of sheer respect. After ending on an impressive high note, Diamond earned a round of applause from the class. Even Fizzle struggled to critique anything in the performance. The way Diamond had incorporated Annuity’s dialogue made it seem like the song was always supposed to be about how everypony has weaknesses.

The second reading of the play was incredibly tedious. Admittedly, we didn’t stop for so many questions this time around, but I could tell that ponies with minor parts, such as Pink Diamond, were quickly growing bored. For me, it still felt weird being the center of attention.

We also opened up a Prench unit in our cultural studies class. Although Prance was one of the oldest pony civilizations, it turned out that there were still strong regional identities, though not to the same extent as in Españeigh. To this point, it was only within the last century that the Prench language fully penetrated some of the more rural areas. This part was of interest to me because I came from a world where any cultural kinks had been ironed out. Family naming traditions were about the only artifacts of Earth’s diversity we had left.

What stuck out in a bad way was the Prench custom of fillies greeting others with a kiss; colts greeting other colts would just shake hooves. Most of the class giggled at this, but I didn’t find the double-standard reassuring at all. Even if it wasn’t an Equestrian custom, it served as another reminder that becoming female meant countless new rules and customs would be imposed on me.

Star Chart eventually gave up on dissuading me from perseverating on this line of thinking and suggested I take a walk in one of the gardens. When this too failed to help me, I returned to my room and bulldozed through all my homework for the next week. It helped that next Tuesday was yet another holiday: Career Day. I was about to go to bed and write off the day as a waste when I heard a knock on the door. At this point, I had started to figure out something of a pattern: Celestia would knock firmly three times, Flower Power would tap out a little tune, while Star Chart would knock twice with a long pause in between.

This time it came as two quick knocks. Slightly curious, I pushed the door open with my muzzle to behold a rather feminine-looking unicorn stallion. His hooves were shined, his turquoise mane was in a short ponytail, and he had a thin peach-colored coat.

“Hello. You must be River Glade,” he said serenely. “A pleasure to meet you. My name is Teaching Moment. I’m a Ph.D. student in Applied Magic at Canterlot University. I’ll be your instructor for the next couple of weeks.”

“Instructor? In what—oh right...” Somehow magic lessons had completely fallen off my radar. “I thought we were going to do this in Princess Twilight’s lab because she has that jammer thingy.”

He shook his head and took out what appeared to be an oversized snow-globe from his saddlebags. “Since nothing went wrong during your first session with the princess, a portable magic jammer should suffice.”

His horn glowed and I felt a familiar static sensation as the translucent globe began to fog up.

“I’m going to try something unconventional with you. You are a rare case—a unicorn who has suppressed her magic for decades. It may take a while for you to start to break down walls and get a feel for it, so I’m going to keep the jammer on a low setting while you practice. You will feel some resistance, but it will help your development. It’s like how hoofball players train with weighted horseshoes to build muscle.”

“I don’t understand why you’re complicating it,” I said. “I mean, why not just teach me like normal?”

The stallion smiled. “That why I’m here, actually. I specialize in magical development of colts and fillies. In a way, learning magic is like acquiring natural language. There’s certainly an advantage to learning when you are younger since a developing brain has greater potential for neuroplasticity and will thereby develop thaumic-gated synapses at a much greater rate.”

“So I’m already at a disadvantage?” I asked, sifting through the jargon.

He moved closer and launched into lecture mode. “Not quite. While it is true that younger foals learn more quickly, I believe that older foals—and even adults—can benefit by learning smarter. After all, you have a more developed brain. Why not use it?”

“I suppose,” I acquiesced. After all, the last thing I wanted to do was debate a pony in what was likely his cutie mark area of expertise.

“Before we start, I need you to sign this,” he sheepishly intoned, thrusting a quill and a packet of papers toward me.

“And I’m agreeing to what exactly?” I asked, highly suspicious.

His ears drooped. “You technically don’t have to, but I would really appreciate it if you would. It’s basically asking your consent for me to take notes to use in my thesis. Your data will remain anonymous and it will help further science.”

“I thought you were overqualified to be my tutor...” I mused.

His eyes were pleading. I wanted to say no.

“I’ll teach you no matter what, but Professor Withers really seemed interested in looking over my data for a secret research project of hers.”

I almost laughed. Invoking that nosy professor hardly made his offer more appealing. But I nearly facehooved when the obvious hit me: I was the secret research project! If there was the off-chance that this could help me…

“Fine,” I muttered, signing at the bottom of the last page.

I was then hit with a boring questionnaire. Considering I had been a unicorn for what could only be a few months, I definitely questioned the worth of describing a non-existent magical history to him. Still, I didn’t know if this stallion was in the loop about me, so I held my tongue.

After twenty minutes of this, Teaching Moment cleared his throat. “Last question: have you ever experienced an abnormal, non-transient magical event, or anything you can’t explain?”

Would turning into a baby princess count?

“What kind of question is that?” I asked, impatient.

“Well, there are a couple of reasons for asking, actually. First, if you spontaneously access specialized magic you may have a natural affinity of some sort. For instance, Princess Twilight Sparkle accidentally turned her parents into potted plants during a magical surge.”

At least they got better…

He rubbed his chin with a forehoof. “She’s probably not the best example because she’s in a class of her own. After studying her for a year myself, I could only conclude that her affinity was for everything. Not a very satisfying summation from an academic perspective, but I digress. I suppose a better example would be Subject L: a filly that would spontaneously swap the cutie marks of the ponies around her. Now, cutie mark magic is in its infancy. We have spells that can emulate the effects of the cutie pox for instance, but otherwise her affinity is an arcane one. No pun intended.” He laughed at his own lame joke. “While I never did get the chance to study her in person, I suppose she must be a grown mare by now. Anyhow, that’s the first reason. The second is even rarer if you can believe it. In short, mutations can sometimes lead to the manifestation of hybridized magic. The most recent discovery in this respect was about twenty years ago. A young mare was discovered whose earth magic was closer to a treant’s than to a pony’s.

I stifled a yawn. “Well that’s more than I wanted to know.”

Teaching laughed self-consciously. “That’s a self-confessed character flaw in us academic types I’m afraid—ask us about our research and you’ll never hear the end of it. At any rate, the question’s becoming standard and we only ask it on the off-chance you might self-disclose. It’s hardly perfect, but you can’t tell us anything if we don’t ask. Unfortunately, both the former and latter case range from readily apparent to profoundly subtle. Sometimes detecting them at all is a miracle in itself.”

Little did I know, the most interesting phase of the lesson had passed. For the remainder of the hour he had me pulse my magic on and off and on and off. I felt used, like a toy flashlight.

After an eternity of this, he clapped his hooves together and said, “Moving on, I’d like you to try and levitate this sensor ball. It will record any external magical impulses and monitor your progress.”

I shot him a weird look. “You were just like my teacher for a second there.”

He rubbed the back of his neck with a hoof. “It’s a habit I’m trying to break. A mare I dated for a while did it all the time, and I guess I picked it up. Hang on, I don’t suppose your teacher is Fizzle Spark?”

“Sure enough…” I groaned.

He peered into my eyes, apparently reading my mind and smiled. “I can see you judging me. After seeing her teach, I assure you: she’s a completely different mare outside the classroom.”

For some reason, I found it hard to picture Fizzle outside the classroom. Still, this was in line with what I’d seen of ponies so far. After all, Star was effective despite having her soft pony side. This was not something I wanted for myself, however. I have strived to be the same stoic on the inside as I projected outward. I’d certainly fallen out of practice here in magical pony land, so I resolved to try harder. This lack of stoicism was sorely missed, as I quickly grew flustered trying to will the stupid ball into motion.

The next morning, Coffee Swirl intercepted me just before I left for school with Diamond and our escort. Naturally, it concerned Squirt’s surprise cuteceaera, but what shocked me was the timing.

“Really? Tomorrow!?” I asked in disbelief.

“Is that a problem?” Coffee asked, bashful.

“Well, I have nothing planned for then, but you’re really telling me at the last minute, hoping I won’t have anything?”

Coffee and Star exchanged a look as understanding dawned on the pair.

“It’s a Canterlot thing,” Coffee began. “There’s a premium on being flexible for one’s friends. It gives you a chance to show a pony how much they mean to you.”

I looked to Star for confirmation.

“What she said about flexibility is true, River, but it’s also important to remember that ponies in Canterlot are busy. Once a party planner finds a date she thinks works for almost everypony, she’ll run around trying to confirm it.”

Coffee smiled. “It’s like a logistics problem. You tackle the ponies that have the most challenging schedules first, and then you slot in the easier ponies who have… more free time.”

“Why not just announce a date well beforehand so everypony can plan to come?” I asked, pointing out the obvious.

Coffee looked stumped for a moment, but then her chipper smile returned. “Where’s the fun in that?”

I shook my head before halting. “Wait a minute… you didn’t ask me about my schedule at all. That means I’m one of the ‘easy ones!?’”

Star grinned in guilt.

“Are you trying to say I have no life!?”

Coffee took a moment to consider how to say it nicely before making a weak attempt. “Well, you and Squirt are alike in that you both—I mean you’re both sort of… introverted...”

“Nevermind,” I said abruptly. After all, I could hardly be mad at them for pointing out the reserved nature of my lifestyle in Equestria.

“Did someone say party?” A miniature pink pony asked, springing onto the scene.

“Nope, no parties here.” Star lied flatly, surprising me.

“Really?” Diamond asked in a drawn out manner, eyeing us suspiciously.

The three of us locked eyes before awkwardly nodding in sync.

“Okay then!” she said cheerfully, completely oblivious as she bounded away.

I looked to Star. Once the crystal filly was out of sight I voiced a point of curiosity: “I get the white lie so she doesn’t spoil the surprise, but I thought you ponies were all about honesty.”

Star shrugged. “I see keeping a secret as prioritizing loyalty. There’s various schools of thought on this sort of thing, but it depends on your perspective and what you value more.”

I wasn’t sure if I was inclined to praise the pragmatism of their philosophy, or to be turned off by the flexibility of their ethics.

“Sorry again for the short notice, River,” Coffee added. “Anyway, you can head straight to our house after school. One of us will keep Squirt busy while the other gets the party ready.” She smiled. “All right, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” With that, the pony trotted off.

I watched her leave, and for a moment it occurred to me that I had no idea what she did during the day. Star had a pretty clear role in protecting me, but other than their training regime, I knew nothing of what the rest of the guards did all day. Did they just stand around and guard things? Surround the princess and look imposing? I thought about asking Star, but I couldn’t think of a way to not sound childish.

On the way to school, Trusty mentioned his marefriend in the Crystal Empire, and Pink Diamond never let the topic go. She peppered him with question after question about her and their relationship. Thrilled to find someone who would listen to his doting, Trusty gladly answered even the more intrusive questions. I almost had to interject, but a wing-slap to the cheek courtesy of Star compelled Trusty to doctor me out of his story at the last second.

When Pink Diamond’s giggle fit over his awkward confession of love ended she said, “It’s so romantic—being brought together with love magic.”

“I can certainly recommend it,” the stallion chuckled.

Pink Diamond’s tail started wagging. “I didn’t know somepony else could use love magic! It’s amazing that a filly that young could! How old was she? Did she have a cutie mark? Can you introduce me to her? I want to meet my special somepony too!”

Star stroked her with a wing. “I think you’re a little young to think about such drastic measures. They’re really only for the hopeless cases.”

“Yeah,” Trusty agreed with a smile. A long moment passed. “Hey…”

The pink pony went silent for a moment before immediately blurting out what she was thinking: “Did Princess Cadance make her her student? Oooh! Maybe she can ascend like Princess Twilight did and we can have two princesses of love!”

I froze in place and cringed at the thought. It took me most of the remainder of the journey to recover. But just as I was about to recover from the unpleasantness, I was overcome by a second, far more potent wind of disgust.

Could… could I have an affinity? Am I a love prodigy!?”

Needless to say, I spent the next several hours contemplating the horrors of my least palatable destiny yet. I paid little attention as Fizzle drilled us on exponents and reviewed some of the vocabulary from the Xelning book. It took me until recess to recover, when I forced myself to participate in gauntlet tag. This time, Annuity rigged it against her own team for reasons apparent to almost everypony.

“You really dropped the ball there at the end,” Annuity chided. “Were you even trying? You have to want it, Diamond. You know, I’m not sure I can be friends with somepony that doesn’t try.”

“But… I did my… best,” Diamond said despondently in between her panting.

“That’s nice. But in this world it’s results that matter.”

Although a truism, the remark was still barbed.

I tried to continue listening in, but Stardust’s complaining drowned out their conversation. “Somehow beating her like this is more irritating than losing to her cheating! I mean it’s so obvious. Why can’t Pink Diamond see it?”

I considered harping on the point about how ponies in general missed the obvious, but such a comment would be out of place coming from a pony. Besides, she could still prove herself to be an exception.

“I understand your frustration,” Style conceded. “However, all we can do at the moment is keep trying to recruit.”

Stardust looked down as her gait slowed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Still, I can’t believe Pestle said no to us! What’s up with that?”

Style stretched out before stepping inside. “Well, it makes sense—what she said about it being between her and Annuity.”

“Pssh. I don’t buy that, do you? It’s not like Annuity hesitates to gang up on ponies.”

“I don’t know. With Pestle, Annuity seems to fly solo.” Style smiled at the griffin holding the door for them. “Thank you, Beakington.”

“Thank you!” Stardust parroted.

I stopped abruptly, took a step back and stared. Locking eyes with him, I waited for him to confirm all my suspicions by leaning forward into a slight bow and gesturing me in. After a tense couple of seconds, I quickly trotted in. I was pretty sure his display of chivalry would be different had he still thought me a colt—or different in spirit at least. Hopping up to my desk, I tried to let it slide.

“Okay, Everypony!” Fizzle said with extra pep. “Today we’re going to discuss some more cultural differences between life in Canterlot and Maris. One of the more subtle points to keep in mind is the Common system of measurement. Unlike Equestria, Prance never switched over to metric!” She paused as if waiting for the impact of her words to sink in. “It’s been an endless source of confusion to travelers and has led to difficulties in standardization for the purposes of trade. You may not think you need to know it, but if you ever want to do business with Prance, knowing Common will give you a leg-up. Now, your heads might start spinning if I dive straight into talking about troughs, bushels, horseshoes and miniovens, so I’ll start with the familiar. Perhaps the single biggest difference may be that the Common system still uses unicorn years with their twelve traditional months.”

“But wouldn’t that mean that the Prench don’t have as many birthdays?” Little Pinion asked.

Fizzle grinned. “Yes that’s right.”

“What!?” Zap exclaimed. “That’s a rip! Why would anypony adopt a system that means missing out on birthday parties?”

“As you’ll find out as we continue our studies, the Prench are by no means party-deprived.”

From what I could see, at least Zap and Diamond were unconvinced.

“Besides, the Prench tend to get bigger birthday parties with more presents.”

A collective wave of understanding washed over the class as the last piece fell into place, with many voicing their relief.

“Like Pinion said, unicorn years means that when Prench ponies give their age you have to stop and think for a moment. For instance, if a mare says she has a two-year-old foal, you might imagine a baby colt or filly. However, using unicorn years, you should expect their foal to be walking, talking and preparing to go to preschool.”

The class nodded along.

“Does everypony know their age in unicorn years?”

Murmured affirmations came from all directions. Annuity and Pestle both wore expressions that said this was baby stuff.

Pink Diamond meekly cleared her throat. “Umm… I actually don’t know. We… don’t use unicorn years in the Crystal Empire…” Her ears drooped and she looked down as a few ponies met her with judgmental eyes.

“That’s perfectly okay!” Fizzle asserted. “Unicorn years might be more familiar to Canterlot ponies due to their history of use here, but some areas of Equestria never made use of them at all. We’ll be getting into this later in history class, but the standardization of earth pony years was actually one of the strangest things to come out of Discord’s tenure as ruler of Equestria. As you all should know, earth pony years originally measured time relative to the crop cycle. Discord apparently liked the inconsistency of earth pony years created so he imposed them on the unicorn and pegasus ponies as well. For example, one year might be shorter than the year before if harvest season came early. Likewise, if there was a long winter, you could potentially have a year last a few extra months. But it turned out that everypony using the same calendar was a big step forward. Shortly after his defeat, the three tribes agreed to standardize earth pony years to their fixed length of two-hundred days which we use today. Of course, this was a fluke, and other reforms, such as those to our mathematics are... less well-regarded…”

It turned out all of this was actually a segue into a mathematics lesson. We learned how to convert measurements from metric to Common and vice-versa, using earth pony years and unicorn years as our main example. There were grumblings about it being busy work, but Fizzle assured us that it would be essential for work in applied magics and sciences. It wasn’t anything I had done before, but once I picked up the pattern, it was relatively straightforward. To make sure everypony was following along we each gave our ages in both systems.

“I’m forty-nine,” Annuity said. “That means I’m almost twenty in unicorn years.”

“Very good,” Fizzle said.

“Iron Jill is twenty-five!” The minotaur girl said. “That means Iron Jill is ten in Prance!”

“Ten? Really?” Stardust blurted out.

Similar murmurs came from all around me.

“Isn’t she too young to be in the same class as us?” Annuity asked.

“Good question!” Fizzle interjected, ignoring Annuity’s sour tone. “Minotaurs grow up faster than ponies, so in a way, Iron Jill is actually the same age as most of you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Daybreak complained, so Fizzle had to spend a few minutes trying to communicate the concept of relative development.

Gradually we went around the room. Squirt’s forty-two translated to seventeen unicorn years, Stardust’s thirty-nine was about sixteen and a half, and Beakington’s forty-eight made him about nineteen in common. It turned out that griffins aged at about the same rate as ponies.

Finally, it came to me. Despite having had all that time to come up with a convincing guess, I still had to stall for time as I rechecked my logic. Star had said I appeared to be in my forties when I first started attending school. However, I was gradually de-aging, and I was clearly one of the shortest ponies in class. Eventually I decided to go with a round number.

“I’m thirty,” I finally said. “That makes me twelve in unicorn years.”

There was some voicing of surprise, albeit not as much as with Jill.

“Did he always look so young?”

“I thought he was at least forty when transferred in…”

“Looking at him again, I might even think he was younger than that!”

Thankfully, I wasn’t the youngest pony in the class. Clever Theorem held that distinction by virtue of transferring schools because of academic excellence, and she did me a favor by removing me from scrutiny.

We then delved into more complicated conversions. Thankfully, we stuck to fractions, avoiding the headache of pony decimals. After what seemed like an eternity of number-crunching, Fizzle finally signaled us to wrap up so we could go over the worksheet. Surprisingly, nobody gave a wrong answer. Fizzle was ecstatic but she was somewhat at a loss because we had finished so early.

“So can we leave early?” Squirt asked, harboring zero hope.

“No, Squirt. I’ll think of something,” Fizzle said, impatiently.

“Don’t strain yourself on my account,” Squirt snarked.

The teacher sunk into thought momentarily, but just as quickly she perked up and clapped her hooves together. “Since you all did so great today, I think I’ll hand out your summer catalogs now!”

The class cheered. I looked from side-to-side and came to the conclusion that the sentiment was near unanimous. She even had Squirt’s full attention. I took a second look at Pink Diamond, hoping she was just as confused as I was, but no such luck. It was starting to get on my nerves being out of the loop all the time. But then again, when the alternative was probably suffering a six-hour Twilight lecture on all things pony, ignorance was relatively inviting.

Fizzle dropped a thick magazine on my desk as she slithered in between the seats. It featured a generic photograph of various foals smiling outside a log cabin. It was unhelpfully titled Activity Catalog.

Flipping through it, what stood out were the color-coded sections, which were further divided into subunits consisting of a picture and a written description. At the end were various forms in triplicate meant to be pulled out.

When she was finished distributing, Fizzle returned to the front of the room and whistled to get everyone’s attention. “Now, I know you’re all eager to check out all of the activities, but first I have a couple of announcements to make. Most notably, our school, along with Canterlot Second, has been assigned to a location near Ponyville!” Fizzle threw her hooves excitedly and a few ponies cheered. “At the latest, try to get your forms in by the middle of next month. You can find them in the back of this booklet. I won’t give you a hard deadline yet, but do try to get them in as soon as you can. I know picking activities can take time, but keep in mind that the experts predict camp may come early this go-around.”

Annuity was impatiently scanning the back of the booklet. “Yeah, yeah. Where’s the form to opt-out?”

“I was just getting to that,” Fizzle said in a sing-song voice.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, good it’s optional. I was sure this was going to be some silly pony obligation that I would hate.

“If you wish to be transferred into a different group, you’ll need your guardian to sign the request form and list at least three alternatives by their group numbers. If you’re requesting a transfer, I suggest you get in the request form as quickly as possible. As I’m sure you all know, some of the more popular camps fill up fast. The organizers try to give everypony their first choice, but that’s not always possible.”

“Yeah, yeah, this isn’t our first rodeo,” Zap said with a hungry look in her eye.

“Oh, all right,” Fizzle relented. “I’ll just tell you what you’re all waiting to hear: our group number is A37. Now I’ll write it on the board for those of you who—”

A hurricane of pages turning drowned out all other noise. In front of me, Zap’s wings were buzzing and she was flipping through the booklet at warp speed. Somehow, she pinpointed what she was looking for and did a happy backflip.

“They’re offering stunt flying!? YES!”

To my side, Squirt was scanning his booklet more deliberately. “Kayaking—no. Core endurance training—pass. Soccer—that’s a joke. Hiking—too outdoorsy. Flag hoofball—seriously, are the green activities grouped together by virtue of being things Squirt would hate? Junior Royal Guards minicamp—ugh. Is there anything in here that doesn’t involve so much work? Why’d they have to go and take out chess?”

“Because certain ponies were flocking to the chess club to avoid having to exercise,” Fizzle explained, clearly enjoying Squirt’s dilemma. “Besides chess isn’t really a sport, so it makes more sense in the blue section anyway.”

“Aww man! A37 doesn’t have blacksmithing,” Mortar Strike complained.

“Basic embroidery, flower arrangement, feng shui… I could teach half of these arts classes. What a joke,” Bubble Bauble said for everyone to hear.

Hesitant, I opened the first page of my catalog to learn that the four major color groups required at least one activity, and two extras could be chosen from any category. Nodding, I closed it shut again, hoping that I may still be exempted.

“What are you going to pick, River?” Beakington asked.

“Oh, uhh.... I don’t know if—”

“If you will be able to choose? Me neither! I don’t quite get the point of this ‘mandatory not-quite-summer-yet summer camp,’ but I’m quite looking forward to it!”

“Uhh… yeah, me too… Wait, did you say mandatory?”

The bell chose that moment to chime in.

“Let me know what you pick, River!”

“Yeah, sure…” I muttered, attempting to slam my already closed book shut. I definitely was going to have a word with Celestia about this. Brainstorming ways to weasel my way out of pony summer camp, my attention wandered and I bumped into Iron Jill. I felt a brief wave of deja vu.

“Sorry,” I said reflexively, brushing past her.

“Wait! Iron Jill has something she needs to tell you.”

I turned to her. “Yes?”

“Did you receive Iron Jill’s invitation.”

“Oh that…” Drat, I had forgotten.

“You don’t need to come,” Jill said bluntly.

This took me aback.

“You sure?” I asked, hardly believing my good fortune.

“Yeah, it’s something Iron Jill’s mom set up. She thinks Iron Jill has friends, so she invites ponies from my class to sleepover. Nopony ever comes, but she won’t give up!”

“Oh…” I felt a pang of sympathy

“Don’t worry I’m used to it,” Jill said, subtle hints of disappointment lining her features as she turned away. “Don’t worry about it."

I stood there dumbstruck, trying to wrestle down my guilt. Failing at this, I let out a sigh.

“Ponyfeathers, now I have to go…”

I left school brimming with self-righteous determination. Unfortunately, waiting all day for my meeting with the princess took the edge off, and I found it hard to summon anger and indignity when Celestia’s kind eyes met mine.

“There’s my favorite ‘friendship student!’” Celestia said, hopping off the bed to greet me. As her powerful presence registered, I was rendered momentarily speechless as a slight sensation of calm and comfort creeped in on the periphery of my emotions.

“Alice, is everything all right?” she asked, picking up on this.

“N—no—I mean yes. It’s just kind of hard to get used to seeing you only sporadically. But really, I’m fine.”

Celestia cocked her head and took a few steps towards me, easily closing the distance between us. Celestia stared deeply into my eyes and I was overcome with befuddlement.

“Hmm.” She stepped back. “My mistake. It must be a trick of the light. So, I hear you had your first magic lesson with your new teacher. How did that go?”

“Fine I guess,” I said disinterestedly. “The most interesting thing to come out of it was that he dated my teacher at one point.”

“Oh my, small world isn’t it?” She grinned. “Still, I didn’t think you’d be one to be interested in gossip.”

I smirked. “I’m not. It was just that boring.”

“Oh… Please give it time. They will be invaluable skills.”

I shook my head. “I have no intention of quitting.”

“Thank you,” Celestia said, stroking me once with her wing. “I’m not saying all unicorns have to love magic, but I do believe everypony can find something special that speaks to them. Besides, most unicorns are specialists rather than generalists. Spells related to your cutie mark—whatever it may be—will come more naturally to you.”

I visualized a heart stamped onto my butt and swallowed hard. After a brief moment of deliberation, I decided to keep this worry to myself. Part of me knew that I would fail to be liberated from mandatory summer camp; I didn’t want to compound that disappointment by learning definitively that my special talent was playing Cupid.

“All I did was answer a questionnaire and try to make a ball float. Not that interesting. Also, the stallion was kind of weird.”

“I wish I could relate,” Celestia said warmly, choosing to ignore the last part of my statement. “Then again, I never had to unlearn the emitting method. My sister had a really hard time, though. You might want to ask her for insight.”

“I’ll consider it. Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

“Oh?”

I stood up to my full height in a vain attempt to look imposing. “It’s this mandatory summer camp thing. What is it and why wasn’t I told about it?”

Celestia was caught off guard, but she quickly recovered and took on a supplicatory expression. “You mean your teacher already gave you the catalogs?”

I nodded.

Celestia tapped her hooves in rhythm, which somehow helped ponies count in their heads. “I’ll be… it’s that time already, is it? It wasn’t my intent to keep you in the dark, but your school must have been one of the first to hand out the catalogs.” She paused to think. “I could tell give the simple answer, or I could give you the truth, which is even more basic in a way.”

“Why’s it even a debate?” I asked.

“Well, I know you’re not a foal, but it still feels unnatural to explain these matters to one who looks so young…”

I just stared at her, incredulous.

“I’ll start with the surface explanation, then. You see, every couple of years we gather all the foals in Equestria to attend a recreational summer camp. It’s an opportunity to mix up the monotony of the school year by giving ponies the opportunity to explore new interests in a different environment. The most curious aspect of this process is that nopony knows when the camp will be. All we know is that it usually occurs between Spring and Summer.”

I balked at this. “Surely it can’t be a secret to even you. Besides, what’s the point of keeping something like that under wraps? It sounds impractical, not to mention an organizational nightmare.”

Celestia chuckled. “Alice, you have no idea.”

I resisted questioning this on its surface and instead took a few steps back. “I heard from Star and Coffee that ponies like arranging things at the last minute. Don’t tell me that’s why you do it this way?”

The princess smiled. “What we tell the foals is the surprise makes the occasion even more special.”

“What you tell them?” I echoed.

She nodded. “I assume what this comes down to is that you don’t want to go to camp with the other foals?”

“You’ve got it,” I said, rubbing my hooves together, ready to negotiate. “And I in turn assume that this is where you tell me I have to go.”

“Not necessarily,” Celestia said mischievously. “It would be difficult, albeit possible, to arrange for you to stay in Canterlot. However, I am under the impression that you’d rather go to camp...”

I grinned defiantly. “You think so?”

Celestia looked away and blushed ever so slightly before taking a breath to regain her composure. “You see, Alice, the real reason we send the foals to a mandatory summer camp is—well...”

This ought to be good, I thought as the pony giantess began to tiphoof towards me. Stretching her muzzle out towards my ear, she leaned in to whisper.

In that moment I learned things no foal my age should ever have to comprehend.

Blushing redder than my filly mane, I turned my head and started to retreat towards the door. “Wow… I mean I know there are cultural differences, but I was not expecting that. I mean, just—it’s so out-of-character for you ponies!

“Oh, and what makes you say that?” Celestia asked, clearly appreciating the humor of the situation.

“I mean, I guess it’s not surprising—you’d obviously have to at some point, but… you’re normally just so… wholesome.”

As if momentarily possessed by a malicious force, Celestia connected the dots for me and pointed out what I had already started to intuitively fear: “Before you judge us, you should probably know that alicorn princesses are no exception.”

Despite my exceptional mental fortitude, I could practically feel the savage blow reverberate through my psyche. For the first time in my life, I was genuinely grateful to be a foal. I tried to slip out of the room without a word, but Celestia was having too much fun with me.

“So I take it you’re up for summer camp now?”

I nodded meekly.

“Great! Bring me your form when you have your activities picked out and I will be happy to sign it.”

I glared at her before retreating with my tail firmly between my legs.

Author's Note

I still owe you all a five-hundred like special. I haven't forgotten :scootangel:

Forgive me for another setup/world-building chapter, but I'm a little rusty writing at the moment. Hopefully the quality of this chapter is okay :twilightblush:

Finally, I'd like to think that I perfectly skated the bounds of my E-rating with that subtext, but if I stepped over the line please let me know :trollestia:

Chapter 26

The school day played out like a movie as I watched from the sidelines. This took something of an effort, as my morning commute had consisted, unsurprisingly, of Pink Diamond chattering nonstop about how excited she was for summer camp. She had eight or nine activities she really wanted to do, and she couldn’t decide between them. Clearly she was the opposite of Squirt and me, who would struggle to come up with activities that we wouldn’t hate.

“I was going to take social dancing as my green choice, but the only times it’s offered would mess up my horticulture and treasure hunting sessions,” Pink Diamond relayed.

“So why don’t you move around those classes instead? I’ve found that in dealing with camp schedules, it’s best to pencil in the less-offered classes first,” Star offered, participating in my stead.

The filly giggled. “I suppose I should have tried that! I feel silly now. I spent all afternoon balancing my activities, but when I fixed one thing something else broke! And when I fixed that, I couldn’t do another activity I wanted to do! It’s really hard trying to keep all my favorites available, especially when I haven’t narrowed it down yet.”

Star looked at me expectantly, clearly expecting a sarcastic rejoinder in response to the filly’s obviously flawed methodology. But I simply wasn’t in the mood.

“I’m okay with it, though,” Pink Diamond said. “I’m already a pretty good dancer anyway. I just wish they offered more advanced dance classes—like the squaretrot, the salsa, or maybe even the Twilight!

Star put a hoof to her mouth to conceal a giggle at the last item. When she recovered she said, “Well, it all depends on who is available to be a camp counselor. It’s hard to get ponies who are qualified to teach the less common skills. At the same time, it’s hard to gauge interest before finalizing the catalog. Almost nopony signed up for my astronomy class back when I was involved…”

“You were a camp counselor!?” Pink Diamond asked gleefully.

Star smiled. “Most ponies want to keep the camp tradition going. In fact, when you’re fifty or so, you can sign up to be an assistant and prepare to take over for the ponies who will move onto other things.”

“I can’t wait!” the filly proclaimed, jumping and waving her limbs for emphasis. “Being a counselor sounds great. I don’t understand why why anypony would stop.”

It felt like a kick to the stomach as my mind once more jumped to the horrible truth. Compounding it, Pink Diamond turned to me and asked, “What do you think, River?”

“Uhh... ummm—well, it’s probably some boring adult thing. Like—like a big meeting.” She seemed uncertain, and I silently pleaded with her to believe me.

“Trusty?” The crystal filly asked incisively, knowing full well which of the two adults was more likely to let something slip.

“N—no—but, yeah, it’s something almost... boring…” he rubbed his neck, laughing. “But it’s part of being an adult, I guess.”

Star dissected his every word and gestured with her eyes, nodding when she came to the conclusion that his answer was acceptable.

“That really stinks,” my fellow exchange student lamented. “Growing up sounds like no fun.”

“It isn’t all that bad,” Trusty said with a grin. “After all, I’ll get to see Wallflower again!”

Star jabbed him in the ribcage, causing him to yelp and cover his mouth. The damage was done, however as Pink Diamond furrowed her brow.

“And why are you meeting up with your marefriend to do something boring?” she asked, suspicious.

The stallion started shuffling his hooves. “I’m not going to do anything with Wallflower—I mean, I just happen to be going to the Crystal Empire to do that really boring adult thing. Yeah, and after that, if I’m lucky, I might be able to visit her.”

Star shook her head in disbelief.

After pondering it for a moment, Pink Diamond gave an oblivious smile. “Okay! Thank you for telling me, Trusty!” She stopped walking for a moment to gather her thoughts. “Hang on, if it’s a boring adult responsibility, then how come some ponies get to keep supervising the camps year after year?”

‘“Oh, look: we’re here,” Star said abruptly, feigning disappointment. “We’ll talk about this later. Have a good day at school, you two!”

“Oh boy!” the filly said. “I can’t wait to see what my friends picked!”

I grinned at Star knowingly. There was little chance that the crystal pony’s curiosity would last longer than a few minutes, let alone the whole school day.

I took a moment to wave goodbye to our escort, and Pink Diamond was gone before I could look back at the school. Bounding through the door, she pounced on Annuity while shouting, “good morning!” startling her prospective best friend. The bronze filly sprung into the air and screeched like a cat thrown into an acid bath, convulsing in the air for a solid second before landing.

“Hehe. Sorry, Annuity,” she apologized, as a good portion of the class laughed. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Hmmph. I wasn’t scared,” she said unconvincingly, combing her frazzled mane back into place.

“You weren’t?” the earth filly asked, cocking her head naively.

Somehow, Annuity kept a straight face. “Actually, I was practicing my screaming for Nightmare Night.”

“Oh, neato!”

“So, I assume you wanted something?” my nemesis asked.

“Oh, nothing much. I just wanted to ask what activities you were thinking about picking. So far I’ve decided on session D of pottery, session G of horticulture, and—”

“I’m going to stop you there. Weren’t you listening to what I was asking yesterday?”

“Something about transferring out?”

“Yes…” Annuity articulated in a drawn-out fashion.

“Wait? You mean you weren’t asking for somepony else?”

Annuity’s forehoof jerked towards her face in what I recognized as an aborted facehoof. “You know I’m super rich, right?”

Pink Diamond nodded.

“Then why would I go to some generic camp that takes anypony when I can put on my own? My daddy hires some of the most talented ponies to give me and my friends private lessons. This year, my daddy’s invited a craftspony from Prance, a former Marathon Equestria champion, Sapphire Shores’s own choreographer, and even a personal beautician!”

“That’s really neat!” Pink Diamond exclaimed, completely free of envy.

“Yeah, I know. So, do you want to come?” Annuity challenged.

“Can I?” the filly asked uncertainly.

“You tell me. It’s a camp for my friends, so of course you can come—if you’re my friend that is.”

“Of course I want to come, but I was also really looking forward to meeting lots of new ponies from Canterlot Second. I even helped Cake Slice choose some of her activities…”

Annuity looked insecure for a moment, having lost control. “Of course you want to come,” she declared, as if trying to convince herself. “Zap’s coming too. Right, Zap?”

“I don’t know...” the pegasus said, genuinely distraught. “I want to spend camp with all my friends. Besides, I’m really excited for stunt flying!”

“I can beat that! I’ll ask my daddy to get a Wonderbolt coach for you. It’ll be much better than anypony a dinky place like Ponyville could get.”

“Well…” I could see that Zap was certainly tempted.

“Why stop there?” Pestle asked sardonically. “Everypony that attends my snooty mega-moolah camp will receive a year’s supply of toothpaste. But wait! There’s more! Enroll in the next ten minutes and we’ll throw in this solid-gold kazoo! All for the low, low price of your principles and dignity as a pony.”

Pink Diamond’s giggles filled the room.

“That’s not remotely funny, Pestle. And I don’t sound like that!”

Keep telling yourself that. I don’t think she could have done that impression better if she had made a potion.

“Okay, everypony,” Fizzle said, gesturing in her trademark manner. “I know you’re all excited about summer camp, and it is Friday, so I’ve planned something fun for today.”

The class reacted with mixed suspicion and excitement. I was definitely in the former category, as I doubted I would much enjoy what Fizzle Spark would consider fun.

I smirked to myself.

It was strange: hearing her full name just once was enough to dispel some of the aura of her station.

“Anyway, since I’m sure you’re tired of just doing cold reads, so we’re going to take the next step. We’re going to spend today on”—she paused for dramatic effect—”making the costumes and props!”

Compared to her own enthusiasm the cheers she received in response were lukewarm.

“Aww man,” Squirt mumbled. “I actually have to do something this time...”

“But before that, I have a reminder for everypony. As I’m sure you know, Tuesday is Career Day,” Fizzle began.

The class mostly cheered. I decided Squirt was a good bellwether and watched the colt’s reaction to decide on my own. He was smiling broadly, so I took that as a good omen.

“If you’re still looking for a role model, I can help. Does everypony have somepony to shadow?”

Dozens of voices mumbled affirmations.

“Let me see a show of hooves,” she requested.

My eyes darted around the room and within seconds I was the only one who hadn’t responded. I made the flash decision to mimic; the justification came after my hoof was already in the air. Either Celestia would let me skip this obligation, or if I were less lucky, I was sure she would have more resources than a schoolteacher to set me up with a “role model.”

“Okay then. We can start divvying up the work. Who here can sew?”

To my mild surprise, four hooves went up. Bubble Bauble was expected, but Stardust, Daybreak and Granite were unexpected.

“Four seems like the perfect number for—” Fizzle smiled to herself in an unsettling manner. “What am I doing here? I already assigned somepony to be in charge of this part of the production! Squirt, you’re up!”

She stepped aside from the lectern and gestured for Squirt to take her place.

The props manager sighed and dragged his hooves to the front of the room.

Half a minute passed with Fizzle just smiling patiently at Squirt.

“Okay, you four will handle any new costumes that need to be made,” Squirt finally said, unenthused. He eventually picked up some steam though and powered through the rest of the delegating. I ended up being assigned to painting some of the backdrop set pieces. The relatively loose nature of the project planning turned me off, but I managed to limp through the day. All in all, it was the perfect day for me at that time, letting me unwind a bit from yesterday’s unpleasant shock.

However, that wasn’t to last for long, as I was slated to be around even more children for the rest of the day. As planned, I flitted between hiding spots as I followed Squirt and his sister to their home. They took an unusual detour, and I recognized it as my chance to get ahead of them. I wasn’t sure what excuse she had given Squirt, but he seemed to have bought it. As planned I knocked three times on the door of the red clay house. The other Swirl twin opened the door just a crack to stick her head out and snatched me up.

“Hey!” I objected.

She mumbled an apology before setting me down behind the couch in the den along with three colts.

“Sorry,” she said weakly.

“That didn’t really hurt; it’s just unsettling to be grabbed like that. I mean, I get why you don’t want me lingering by the doorway, but this is a surprise party, not a speakeasy.”

The brown-maned unicorn mare flicked off the lights and crouched behind the couch herself. A minute later she was joined by a caramel maned gray mare and a white stallion with a turquoise mane not too different from Squirt’s. It didn’t take much to put together that these were Squirt’s parents, so I took a better look: the mare had her mane in a bun and wore square-framed, red glasses. Meanwhile, her presumed husband was one of the smallest stallions I had seen in Equestria. I wasn’t quite sure if he or Bulwark was the taller, but the fact that it was even in doubt said a lot.

The three colts seemed to vaguely be acquainted, as they whispered awkward small talk, but when that well dried up they were left forcing laughter to fill the void.

Mercifully, Squirt and his remaining sister arrived about five minutes later.

The lights flicked on.

“Surprise!” everypony behind the couch shouted out of sync.

Squirt smiled when he saw who his guests were, but he remained silent, stoically studying the balloons and banners bearing his cutie mark.

Failing to read the room, the twins flanked Squirt and set off a pair of party poppers, covering him in confetti.

“A surprise cuteceanera… Wow. You shouldn’t have…”

His mother chuckled. “At least let us have this moment, Dear. Besides, are you sure you want to write off this party before you open your”—she pulled a gaudy square package out of nowhere—”present!”

Squirt tried to maintain his skepticism, but I nonetheless saw his eyes light up with interest.

“Really? I can open it now? I mean, how things normally work is you make me sit through a ton of buildup before I get to the punchline—like on Hearth’s Warming Eve.”

“It’s your cuteceanera,” Squirt’s mother said, putting a hoof on his withers, “so we’re doing things your way.”

Squirt accepted the package and turned it about looking for the weakest point in the wrapping paper. Finding none, a childish greed overcame him and he ripped the wrapping paper off with his teeth.

When the sisters moved enough for me to see what had been inside, I found myself just as clueless as I had been when it was fully wrapped. I only had Squirt’s reaction to go by, and clearly he was intrigued.

It was a black box with various golden insignia on the sides. As he turned it around in his hooves I saw a scene of battle between a small group of ponies and what looked to be extremely ugly centaurs.

“What—what is it?” Squirt asked, awestruck.

“Save your guesses,” Squirt’s mom said. “It’s our company’s newest product. It’s not even on the market yet. Basically, it’s a pre-generated single-dungeon campaign. It includes everything you need to jump into a game of Ogres and Oubliettes without having to spend weeks building up to that point. It has a dozen pre-created characters with accompanying minifigures, each meticulously tested to be balanced for this particular dungeon. Or you can make your own. And to add replay value, it includes over one-hundred event cards with all sorts of dynamic twists.”

Squirt was speechless, but the fact that he was already gnawing on the plastic wrap spoke for itself.

Mrs. Squirt giggled. “The only thing that’s not included are friends to play it with, but we’ve got you covered there!”

The three other foals started to walk towards Squirt, so I followed them and put on my best, forced smile.

Squirt returned the smile, but it quickly disappeared.

“Is something the matter?” his mother asked.

He shook his head. “Uhh… it’s not that. I love the gift—really. But… umm… I suppose you’re going to make me pin the tail on the pony now, or dance the Pony Polka.”

His parents both shook their heads. He looked to Coffee and Latte, who were mimicking their parents.

“Nope,” the leftmost twin said.

“It’s your cuteceanera,” Right said.

“Why would we make you do something you don’t like?” Right added.

Squirt looked baffled. “Really?”

He scanned his whole family one more time.

“You guys are the best,” he said, giddy.

His family congregated around him in a big pony group hug. I didn’t know whether to be off-put by the sappiness, or grateful that I wasn’t invited to join in.

“Then again…” Squirt’s mother said ominously.

“What?” Squirt asked, a little bit nervous.

“It wouldn’t quite be a cuteceanera without cake and other goodies…”

“Is the cake buttercream?” Squirt asked, hopeful.

“That it is, Dear,” Mom said, ruffling his mane. “Now go have a blast with your friends!”

Despite being advertised as minimal setup, we still had some hurdles to overcome. After picking one of the pre-made characters, I had to choose a specialization, an aura type, and even an animal familiar.

“Why do I need a pet, anyway?” I asked.

The others looked at me like I just suggested a song to liven things up.

“You’re Tuskus, the mountaineer druid. Of course you would have a familiar. In canon it’s a hawk, but he did in fact befriend a bear as well. I’d personally take the mountain goat for extra storage pockets, but it’s up to you,” said Golden Thimble.

“Fine, I’ll take the bear,” I relented.

“All right, then,” Squirt said, rubbing his hooves together excitedly. “As DM I’ll start things off with a secret event card.” He took a card from the deck and grinned ominously. “I now roll to randomly generate treasure, traps and other secrets.” He rolled eight or nine times. “And away we go!” He cleared his throat. “You find yourself in a dingy chamber, your vision aided only by the weak glow of the torches. You feel a subtle draft despite your party being deep underground. What you see in front of you is—.”

“I search for traps!” Daft Hat declared.

Squirt furrowed his brow at that. “Really? You don’t want more information first. What the room looks like? What’s in front of your faces?”

“So? I’m the master of detection!”

“Your awareness is the lowest in the party by a longshot.”

Daft Hat rolled anyway. “Twenty! Yes! Super-critical! That means I have to succeed.”

“Fine,” Squirt conceded. “You successfully detect all zero traps.”

The brown unicorn colt did a hoof pump while Squirt sighed.

Oh boy. Looks like the odds of this being anything more than a long couple hours are very low indeed…

“And I pivot on my left back hoof and gallop up my familiar’s back!” I proclaimed.

“Uhh… okay, roll for an agility check, being off balance and all,” Squirt offered.

I rolled and got a seventeen.

“Good enough I g—“

“And I jump from atop her head, letting loose a savage roar as I activate my Natural Affinity skill, endowing my horseshoes with the essence of razor-sharp claws!”

I rolled before being prompted, getting a fifteen this time.

“Okay, subtracting two for using an off-type transmutation ability gives thirteen. Obviously that’s enough for your ability to work. Now roll for damage.”

I beamed as I rolled a perfect twenty.

Squirt took his turn with his dice, rolling a five and an eight.

“Neither weapon can parry your overwhelming strike. Lord Ulwat’s off-hand axe shatters in his grip exposing his heart to your faux claws. Ulwat falls to the ground sputtering curses as his dark spell over the dungeon releases. The whole world seems to lighten up as peace is restored to the surrounding area.”

“YES!!” I cried, jumping out of my seat and running around the table twice. I popped up behind my comrades and pantomimed a series of hoofbumps. “And I couldn’t have done it without you guys!”

The three of them just exchanged prolonged perplexed looks.

“Yeah, it was fun—really, but…” The third of Squirt’s friends, Iron Press, let his eyes wander towards me as he considered how to tactfully put it.

I rubbed my temple and chuckled awkwardly. “Heh I guess I got a little carried away, didn’t I?”

“It’s fine,” Hat said. “You having fun was contagious. It’s just… different from how our sessions normally are.”

“Yeah,” Iron said. “Normally it’s just us four geeky colts, but you’re more personable I can see.”

“No, not really,” I said, confused.

Iron shrugged. “Oh well. I guess we’re all shut-ins, and that makes you look gregarious in comparison.”

Squirt’s mom popped into the kitchen. “You boys having fun?”

“We just finished!” Squirt announced triumphantly. “Let it be known that as your first beta tester, I can gladly give this new product The Squirt Seal of Approval.”

She petted his head. “I’m happy to hear that, Dear. Oh my! You all devoured the cake. I take it it was a hit?”

Hat pointed at me, and I looked down and away. One slice had become two, and before I knew it, I had eaten a good fraction of the buttercream cake.

“Nothing wrong with that!” Squirt’s mother, Table Top, said. “Since you’re having so much fun, what do you say we make this into a sleepover?

“Yeah!” Thimble cheered.

“Is that okay?” Iron asked hopefully.

Table smiled. “I’ve already made the arrangements with your parents/guardsponies.”

Well there goes my excuse… I thought. Though I was having fun…

“But there is a minor snag…” Table intoned, catching everypony’s interest as she built the suspense. “You see, I can’t get away with feeding you only cake, so what would you say to dinner courtesy of—Oh I don’t know… Taco Power?"

Squirt actually jumped out of his chair. “Yes! I mean... yeah, sounds good, Mom.”

Table giggled.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the kitchen, Latte popped in. I was fairly sure it was her this time, as I had come to the conclusion that the twins parted their manes in opposite directions.

“River, do you have a moment?” she asked me.

Eager to get some air, I hopped out of my chair and trotted over to her. Without breaking eye-contact, she back-pedaled into the den.

“Yeah, is there something you need?” I asked, somewhat wary.

“Thank you so much for coming!”

“Oh, it’s no big deal,” I said, loathe to admit how much fun I was having.

Latte started to shuffle her hooves.

“So I hate to have to ask you another favor, especially one so big, but…”

I felt anxiety well in the pit of my stomach. What stupid pony thing was I going to be forced into now?

“Latte, dear,” Table Top said. "Squirt wants to get take out so he can play a Runecraft round-robin tournament. Would you mind making a supply run for us?”

“Oh, no problem,” Latte said. “We’ll talk later,” she whispered to me.

“Actually, do you mind if I come with you?” I asked.

“But you’ll miss the next stage of the party.”

I shook my head. “It’s fine. I don’t play runecraft; I don’t even have a deck.”

“You don’t need one,” Table reassured me. “It’s a booster draft.”

“Please,” I said. “I need some air.”

Latte put a hoof on my withers. “I could use the company,” she testified. “Besides, I’ll need help carrying all the food.”

“Be safe you two,” Squirt’s mother shouted as we stepped outside.

When we were about a block away, I let out a long sigh. What had gotten into me?

“Something the matter?” the guardsmare asked as we strolled through Canterlot.

“Well, I’m not too happy with how I acted there. Normally, I’m calm and reserved, but I got completely carried away with the roleplaying.”

“You had fun, though, right? There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“It was fun, but that’s not the issue. I was acting like a normal pony in there, all energetic and such.”

“Well, in general fillies do tend to be more rambunctious than colts.”

My facial features sunk. That made it so much worse.

Latte caught herself. “I didn’t mean it like that; that’s likely only one factor. You did eat a lot of sugar.”

“That’s true…” I began, “but it wasn’t like I can say I lost control over myself. While I did have more energy, I could have just jostled around in my seat to burn it off. Instead, I channeled it into the game, and I got carried away completely.”

“Well, why did you make that choice then?” Latte asked with a friendly smile.

I stopped mid-trot and started to think. Why had I played with so much energy in there? When I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach, I figured I had the unpleasant, correct answer.

“I think it’s because I felt out of place… because I’m a filly.

“Oh?” Latte queried, mixing sympathy and curiosity.

“It’s just that those are four colts who are fairly very low-key and reserved. I realized within the first few minutes that their enthrallment with fantasy games was something I didn’t share.”

Latte giggled. “Well, you sure fooled me.”

I shook my head. “That’s different. What I was doing was relating it to my battle experience. The obsession with numbers and skill points wasn’t something I could relate to. I have to admit the tactical component was enjoyable, though. It was a throwback to war games. In any event, being the only one not interested in fantasy emphasized my other differences, so I think that made me self-conscious about the biggest difference of all.”

I reflexively trotted around the corner towards school and was embarrassed when Latte went the other way.

“I do that sort of thing all the time, despite living here for as long as I have. Anyway, why did you make yourself stand-out even more if you were feeling that way?”

This, too, stumped me and I took several minutes before answering. “It’s like I felt pressure to keep my secret, so I changed the attention on me to a different type.” I paused. “Although… there was a weird feeling like the room was too quiet. Wait… has turning into a pony made me lose my appreciation for quiescence?”

Latte shrugged before happily remarking, “We’re here! Lucky! No line today.”

I scanned the establishment. Like many buildings in Canterlot, it made no secret about what it’s speciality was, sporting a giant taco on the roof behind its name. Latte led us around a small gravel path and past a beautifully rendered menu with pictures of every dish offered.

“Oh thank goodness!” The yellow unicorn stallion manning the takeout window said. “Welcome to Taco Power. How may I help you?”

“Hello, Habanero,” Latte greeted. “I’ll have your standard, sixty bit catering package.”

“Coming right up!” Habanero said.

Latte craned her neck to look at me. “I heard from Star that you’re not too picky an eater, so forgive me for ordering without asking you. This package is a great value and has something for everypony. Besides, whatever we don’t eat makes for great leftovers!”

“All right,” I said, knowing I could at least trust the food here. I was then left awkwardly shuffling my hooves in place; after all, I couldn’t exactly start talking candidly about my secret here.

“All right, we’ve already started on your order,” Habanero said. “If there’s nothing else that will be one-hundred and fifty bits for the ultra-deluxe catering package.”

“Ultra-deluxe!” Latte echoed, dropping the bits she had ready to pay. “I ordered the standard. How did you get ultra-deluxe?”

The stallion looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“But we already started making the order.”

The guardsmare looked down, torn. “Use what you can use for the standard package. I don’t have the bits for anything else.”

The service pony sighed. “Yes, ma’am.”

Suddenly I heard a familiar bit of shrill laughter.

“HAHAHAHA. How brilliant am I! With my Dementia Dial, I will systematically destroy the Canterlot fast food industry by rendering them incapable of remembering even the simplest of orders. AND THEN I, Maniacal Laughter, will be undisputed queen of food on the go. And—somehow—I will rule the world! And there’s NOPONY who can stop me!”

Sure enough, a familiar supervillainess was perched on the roof alongside a device that looked like a complicated sort of viewfinder.

Before I could even guess what would happen next, an orange blur came hurtling towards her. She blocked with a front foreleg and Rising Sun did a backflip to deccelerate.

“Ah, Rising Sun, we meet again. You may have bested me the last seventeen times, but you know what they say: the eighteenth time’s the charm!”

Does that mean she’s broken out of prison seventeen times? Somepony’s really dropped the ball…

“A supervillain…” Latte murmured. “This is what I’ve been trained for, but what do I do? I can’t be sure of my aim from this distance, and it’s not like I have wings…”

“You have protocol for this?” I asked rhetorically.

I suppose it made sense. Then again, considering Maniacal Laughter’s apparent penchant for raining down mayhem from Canterlot rooftops, it certainly didn’t strike me as sufficiently thorough. But on the other hand, I had no obvious solution to the unicorn’s quandary.

As soon as I remembered them, I looked up expecting the squad assigned to my protection. Sure enough, Star was flying at the point of a V-formation along with four armored stallions.

“Stop right there,” Star shouted. “You are under arrest for—”

Reacting instantaneously, the supervillainess seized her contraption and fired a barrage of magical energy at the pegasus squadron. I had a miniature panic attack as I remembered my firsthand experience with mind-altering magics.

“Wait a second…” Star voiced, puzzled as she landed on a roof across from the comic book shenanigans. “Do we even have a law against using evil contraptions against fast-food workers? I feel there should be a law, but I can’t remember for the life of me.”

Suddenly Latte jolted in realization and grabbed me by the neck.

“I gotta get you safe,” she mumbled through a mouthful of my fur.

Whereas being carried in this manner previously had been slightly embarrassing at worst, Latte’s gallop caused me to oscillate uncomfortably in her grip. Fortunately, she soon decided to pop inside some sort of boutique.

A brown stallion with a gray mane greeted us with a creepy smile.

“Welcome to The Safe Space, where your foal’s learning is our number one priority. How can I help you.”

Latte finally spat me out. “Yes, I’m with the Royal Guards. We have a supervillain incident ongoing and I need to get backup. Would you mind watching River Glade here in the meantime?”

The stallion’s smile grew broader. “Of course, ma’am.”

“Thank you!” Latte said quickly, dashing out before I could object.

Unnerved, I slowly turned my head towards my temporary caretaker.

He chuckled. “My, that was easy,” he said snapping his hoof.

I didn’t have even a moment to ponder this apparent impossibility as the room around us seemed to melt away. The cheery wall paperseemed to peeled away and was replaced with aged wood. The long hallway in front of me filled in to become a solid wall. Even the air seemed to suddenly take on a musty taste.

Before I had registered all of this I had instinctively started to charge up my horn.

“Oh, there’s no need for that, My Little Pony,” the stallion said in an entirely different, familiar voice. I just want to have a little fun with you is all. After all, you’re harder to get an audience with than the princesses themselves.”

I stared and doubled the mana pooled in my horn.

The false shopkeeper snapped his hooves again, and a draconequus appeared as the illusion faded.

“Oh, right,” he said as a facemask appeared to cover his mouth and nose. “Almost forgot about that. I can’t exactly have any stray magic of mine flying your way.”

“Anyway, to cut to the chase, I have a present for you,” Discord said, pulling a unicycle shaped package out from behind his back. “You’ll never guess what it is!”

I continued to stare. “I don’t trust you,” I said defiantly.

He wave his claw. “Pah, you’re no fun,” he said as he began to unwrap it himself. The seemingly solid mass underneath dissipated into nothing as he tore the paper off. When he was finished, he held out a costume I had hoped to never see again. In surprise, I almost unleashed the pooled mana, so I started to funnel it into my crystal instead.

“Really? You grabbed that out of the trash? Were you under the impression that I enjoyed being a sidekick?”

“Come now, let me finish first,” the draconequus said. “I made a special improvement. He tapped a button on the barrel of the costume, and the whole outfit collapsed into a magical mist and took on the form of a ring.

Discord brushed my mane aside with a smirk. “I figured your horn could use some more decoration,” he said as he slid it on despite my body language begging him not to. “Wait, one more thing!” he said upon finishing. He pulled out a large star ornament and slid it over the tip of my horn. “Perfect!” Not a second later it fell off and broke.

“I don’t get it…” I said blankly.

“Oh, fine. I’ll cut to the chase. Basically. I installed your sidekick costume into a ring similar to the one you have already. By just willing it and directing a little bit of magic to it, you will be able to instantaneously change in and out of your costume. Is that dry enough for you?”

I took a closer look at the strange creature, taking a moment to feel disbelief at what I was having a conversation with, before continuing. “I don’t understand why I even need another ring. It’s not like I plan to masquerade as a bird’s sidekick on a regular basis.”

“Really?” Discord said, slithering closer to me. “I thought for sure you would be able to see the advantages of having a ready-made disguise.” Discord’s mane and goatee suddenly shifted to a hot pink and his patch-like scales turned monochrome white.

“Why would I need a disguise?” I asked. “Come to think of it, I can already take off the ring and virtually become a different pony.”

Discord’s whole body seemed to dramatically deflate as he slumped to let out a sigh. “You really don’t get what I’m implying, do you? I guess I’ll have to spell it out for you. Look: you’re constantly being watched and coddled by the princesses. But with this ring, you can temporarily abscond from their supervision. Does that make sense?”

I frowned at his patronizing treatment, but he did have a point. There were times when Celestia’s demands did get to me, but…

“I can’t exactly go vanishing when I have a full contingent assigned to ensure my safety. As tempting as it is, I don’t want to cause trouble for Star.”

Discord’s mane and goatee turned red and purple symbols of the four playing card suits appeared on his body. “High-strung and overly serious—you’re a conjurer all right…”

“Wait a second! Were you spying on me this whole time!? During Ogres and Oubliettes! You have been, haven’t you!?”

“Pardon?” Discord said, genuinely confused.

“How else could you reference my character in the game?”

Discord’s eyes lit up in understanding. “Oh, so you got that gag? Good. That line felt a bit weird, but it turned out to be worth saying.”

I groaned before asking for clarification—again. Talking to Discord turned out to be more tedious than anything. “Okay, what?”

He once more floated closer to me. “You see, as a draconequus, context-appropriate punchlines spontaneously pop into my head from time to time. If they didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to be a universal humorist.” Upon saying this last part, Discord conjured a tie around his neck and tightened it with both claws.

“You know what, forget it…”

“Pinkie Pie gets it at least,” said Discord. “Enough chatter; time to spring into action!”

Snapping his claws, the (newest) ring on my horn lit up and I found myself in restricting spandex once more before being teleported away. When I had reoriented myself, I found myself on the same rooftop Star had alighted on earlier; though she had thankfully moved. I looked across to the scene of battle and saw the usual stalemate between mare and bird. Looking down, I saw Star’s group had relocated, joining up with Latte.

“Can we maybe arrest her for unlicensed magical devices?” Latte offered.

“No, that only applies to a narrow list of devices, certainly not to something so weirdly specific.”

“What about for public brawling?”

“Unfortunately, Rising Sun technically struck first, so she’s technically engaged in self-defense.”

“Hmm…”

I shook my head. How could they ever be an effective fighting force if they are so encumbered by procedure? Sighing I realized if I wanted to get on with my day, I would have to intervene. Making a quick judgment call about the distance, I got a running start and jumped the gap between the two rooftops. Not knowing how the new ring would affect my magic, I simply charged into the melee, extending my front hooves to strike.

Adrenaline surged through my system as I anticipated the onset of combat once more…

With a thud, I bounced off Maniacal Laughter and tumbled head-over-hooves towards the edge.

With mild bemusement, the villainess turned to look at me and cracked a smile. “Ahh, Eclipse, I was wondering when you would show up. Then again, punctuality was never your forte.”

I cocked my head in confusion. “You’ve met me exactly once…”

She was about to answer before the Phoenix sucker-punched her and she fell back on the defensive. Nevertheless, the damage was done and Rising Sun had firmly seized the initiative in both talons. Embarrassed by my earlier feeble showing, I could do little more than watch.

Suddenly, the villainess pounced on me. I was quick enough to jump away, but, alas, she was a unicorn, and I found myself gripped and pulled closer by her Turquoise magic.

Rising Sun flew up to prepare a disruptive strike, but as she started to descend, the crafty mare had the sense to use me as a filly shield, forcing the superhero to swerve at the last second.

“AHAHAHAHAHA! Now the horseshoe’s on the other hoof. The best part of being a villain is I have no pesky principles barring me from the more unseemly strategies! What now, Rising Sun?”

The Phoenix idly fluttered, at a complete loss.

“Then again, just because I can use such tactics doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it. Sorry, Eclipse, it’s nothing personal.”

I responded by unleashing my crystal’s stored mana, but the crafty mare casually moved her head to the side, smiling broadly.

She pushed her muzzle closer to mine. “Say, your mane looks an awfully lot like that colt’s at the drive-thru. Could it be?”

I gasped.

Ponyfeathers! The mask doesn’t hide my longer mane! What do I do? What do I do?

I clamped my eyes shut and started to think.

I can’t let her recognize me! I have to do something!

I felt an unusual sensation reverberate through my skull. Somehow there was something familiar about it…

Opening my eyes again, I looked around for anything I could use to my advantage

“On second glance, maybe I was mistaken…” Maniacal Laughter said.

However, I wasn’t about to wait for her to change her mind again. Remembering the hamstrung pegasus battalion I yelled, ”Help! Foal in danger!”

Star finally looked up again and smiled at me. “I know for sure I can arrest her for that!”

Star nodded towards Latte, and the unicorn’s horn lit up. The magic surrounding me dissipated, and in an instant Maniacal Laughter was tackled by five pegasus guards. In the process, the Dementia Dial was knocked off the rooftop, snapping in two.

Star’s eyes seemed to glow with intelligence once more. “Oh man, what was I thinking!? Disturbing the peace. Duh!” She turned to me and my partner in crimefighting. “Thanks for your help, Eclipse, Rising Sun.”

“All in a day’s work,” I said unenthusiastically.

Philomena saluted and flew off, leaving me to fend for myself. Fortunately there was a slanted roof of sorts over the pick-up window which was able to take me close enough to the ground to jump down. For lack of better options, I returned to where I met Discord to dematerialize my costume. No sooner had I arrived then I heard the door creak open.

“Alice, are you in here?” Star asked.

“I’m here,” I responded.

“This place sure looks a lot different than I remember,” Latte commented.

I walked closer to them and both of their mouths gaped.

“Alice…”

“Your eyes…”

“What?” I asked.

“Your eyes—they’ve turned yellow,” Star explained. “Celestia thought a color change might happen when you became a filly, but not to this extent. We’ll need to run a battery of tests to make sure this isn’t a sign of something much worse.”

Discord’s laughter filled the room as he appeared with a smile. “Actually, ladies, there’s a far simpler explanation…”

Author's Note

Man, time really flies between these chapters. Before I know it, I'm weeks behind :pinkiesick:

I don't know how good this one is from a quality control standpoint. If nothing else, it certainly packs it's fair share of references.

Chapter 27

“Actually, ladies. There’s a rather simple explanation,” Discord announced with glee—or at least I think that’s what it was. He seemed to find everything amusing.

“Discord, what did you do?” Star asked, impatient.

Latte, meanwhile, seemed to back away, unsure of herself.

“Come now, no need for your normally-warranted accusations. I was merely uncovering what was already there, like an archaeologist delicately dusting off an ancient artifact.” Discord closed the distance between us and tickled my nose with some sort of brush, causing me to sneeze. Fortunately for him, his face mask served as a blast shield. Literally. As in it transformed into a blast shield to save him from my magically charged sneeze. Fortunately, it didn’t ricochet back on me as magic normally seemed to do around here.

Star sighed. “For all the buildup this will probably be quite a roundabout sort of explanation. Can you save it until we bring Alice back to the princesses?”

“But can you wait is the question! A secret this momentous to a mystery long-confounding. Surely the tantalizing truth tempts you.” This time Discord invaded Star’s personal space as he rambled on. The much smaller mare didn’t even blink and let her silence speak for itself.

Discord huffed. “Fine…”

“Hey, River, you’re back!” Squirt said with a slight smile as I hesitated in the doorway. “Latte said you had to go back to the castle for something.”

Awkwardly waving a hoof in greeting, I briefly found myself pondering pony ergonomics of all things. Squirt’s room was by no means large, but it could easily accommodate the four colts, a bed and a desk in a space that was smaller than the Spartan quarters I was used to. Come to think of it, ponies needed less food as well. Were their means of production scaled-down as well, or might this explain the relative prosperity I had seen?

“Oh, hi…” I finally remembered to say.

“Where’s dinner?” Daft Hat asked.

“They closed up early,” I explained. “There was an incident, and they messed up a lot of orders. The owner really took it personally I guess.”

“That’s too bad…” Squirt said.

“So, what are you guys doing?” I asked.

“I brought over the newest expansion to the Trolls series: Lava Troll Tribes,” Golden Thimble explained, gesturing to a mostly red board that took up most of the empty space in Squirt’s room. “We can deal you in—so to speak—if you want. I think we can come up with a reasonable amount of cards to give you.”

“Is this any different from what we played earlier?” I asked, somewhat underwhelmed.

Iron raised an eyebrow at me. “Trolls is a turn-based strategy game based on resource management, cooperation, and thinking ahead. Think chess but not adversarial in nature.”

“Oh, I see,” I said weakly. I was really out of my element here.

“I take it you’re not much of a gamer.” Iron remarked, practically reading my mind. After further consideration of what he had said, he added, “Not that it’s a bad thing, I mean, but normally Squirt doesn’t associate with those above our lowly nerd caste. How’d the two of you become friends anyway?”

Exchanging a look with Squirt, we instantly communicated mutual confusion by the question, each hoping the other would take up the gauntlet.

“It just sort of happened,” I hazarded.

“Yeah,” Squirt added, “Neither of us are big on the conformist objectives of the educational system. We kind of bonded over that.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense,” Iron Press said before turning his attention back to the game. “I’ll assign three dozen of my worker trolls to help Thimble’s village with the mining expedition. I’ll send my berserkers on a jungle expedition. And I’ll play my prosperity card on obsidian mining to end my turn.”

The game continued in that manner for a while, with them narrating their every action for my benefit. Most of the terminology still perplexed me, but I at least got a feel for how the game flowed from turn to turn. Honestly, it wasn’t as boring as expected. Though considering the alternative to returning to the party was becoming Twilight’s lab rat yet again, I wasn’t about to regret my choice in any case. Still, what I had learned from Discord lingered in the back of my mind.

Excusing myself, I walked to the bathroom and shut the door behind me. Using a stool intended for Squirt’s use, I brought myself to eye-level with the mirror and stared at the green-eyed filly in the mirror. I pulled the ring off my horn, and my image flickered before settling on my normal filly colors.

“I suppose I don’t really need this anymore…” I mumbled, idly turning the ring in my hooves. To prove it I closed my eyes, turning my attention inward and visualizing my desire. When I reopened my eyes, River Glade once more occupied the mirror.

“Weird…” I said softly to myself.

Latte, Star, Discord, the three princesses and myself were crammed into a small dining room. Discord flexed his claws and snapped his facemask for good measure. He said, “So now that everypony has gathered, do you want the short version, or the long version? Or the medium version? Or the medium-long version? Or the semi-medium-short-long version?”

“Discord, please,” Celestia said with a commanding tone. “While you’ve been playing games, I have been considering dozens of explanations, ranging from benign to catastrophic. Just get on with it, please.”

“You want short, then? Very well, I’ll give you short: hybridization.”

I couldn’t quite read Celestia’s reaction to this news.

“It would make some sense,” Luna said, “but I would have sought to rule out myriad other possibilities before arriving at such an obscure explanation.”

Twilight, meanwhile, got a hungry look in her eye. “Another instance of hybridized magic! Alice, that’s great! I’d been wondering when a new case would pop up! I need to tell the professor!”

Celestia motioned for her to halt and asked, “What else do you know, Discord? Can you tell us if her magic has any dangerous properties, or more importantly, what its nature is?”

Discord slithered in the air and directed his gaze towards me. “Gee, I wonder…” he said coyly. His quilt patches of color began to shuffle rapidly between every color imaginable, and for good measure he turned his beard pink again.

Was he implying…

“Wait. You don’t mean that I’m part draconequus, do you?”

Discord perfectly imitated a buzzer sound as he shook his head. “Close, but no cigar.”

Everypony else seemed to have reached the correct conclusion before me. I figured it out only about a second before Twilight spoke it aloud: “You mean her magic is partially hybridized with chaos magic.”

“We have a winner! Discord said, simultaneously making bell noises as he spoke.

“Why didn’t you tell us earlier?” Celestia demanded.

“You didn’t ask,” Discord smugly said while shrugging.

Celestia glared at him intensely.
“This could be good, or this could be bad,” Twilight said, uncertain. “We have to run some tests!”

The sun princess took a moment to consider before nodding at me, her countenance apologetic. “As much as I hate to subject you to another round of tests, this isn’t a matter we can take lightly. We need to know more about the nature of the hybridization and how we can protect you from it.”

I looked down and away. The idea was hardly appealing, but I couldn’t muster an argument against it.

“Why the long face, my little pony,” Discord asked, invading my personal space yet again. “The specter of the Twilight Inquisition got you down?”

“What do you care?” I grumbled.

“Where are your manners? That’s no way to talk to someone who might be able to help you out.”

I looked up at him and gritted my teeth while starting to formulate an apology.

“Discord, if you know anything,” Celestia began, telegraphing a threat.

Discord shrunk down to the size of a housefly. “I did say ‘might,’” he said in a high, squeaky voice before snapping back to his normal size. “But in this case I happen to know. Observe!”

To his right, a massive jar of jelly beans appeared; on his left, an identical jar appeared that was filled with raisins.

“This is my magic,” Discord explained, pointing to the jar on the right, “While this”—Discord levitated the other jar right in front of my muzzle—”is yours.”

“I don’t understand,” Luna said. “You say this child possesses hybridized magic, but now you imply the opposite with entirely distinct representations.”

Discord smiled, rotating the jar around. “Look again.”

An awkward two minutes passed.

“Discord, if thou art pulling our legs on this matter—wait is that a jelly bean there in the middle?”

Twilight trotted up to the jar. “It is!”

Discord floated towards Luna, contorting himself into a pose of supplication. “You see! No tricks here.”
“So what you’re trying to say is that the hybridization is like a drop in the bucket?” Twilight asked.

“More or less,” Discord said.

Star sneered at him. “Why in Equestria would you use a black jelly bean in a jar of raisins! It adds nothing, makes it impossible to see and nopony even likes that flavor!”

Discord chuckled. “Oh my that is quite the clever gag. Alas, I can be afforded no credit; my magic tends to lean towards the comical of its own accord.”

“Enough with this foolishness,” Celestia said coldly.

I practically shuddered. I had seldom heard her speak in such a manner.

“What exactly do you know?” she demanded of him.

Apparently, this also rattled Discord as he continued meekly: “When we Draconequii are born, we have similarly low concentrations of our signature chaos magic.Changing our stripes— so to speak—is the first trick we ever learn. So to put it simply, Alice here has such a comparably feeble concentration of chaos magic that anything beyond a mere palette swap should be impossible for her. So it’s a nice party trick. Not much more than that.”

Discord entire body shriveled up and he spoke as if he were dying of heat stroke. “That dry enough for you?”

A heavy silence fell over the room.

“So you’re saying that it’s nothing much to worry about?” Latte asked innocently.

“Pretty much. I said it was a simple explanation. I never said it was anything consequential. Besides, if it were really important do you think I would have kept it to myself so long?”

“Yes!” All three princesses said in unison.

Discord’s eyes seemed to inflate as they filled with tears. He clicked his claws and a pair of windshield wipers swabbed his eyes. “Honestly, you sell out all of Equestria to a power-hungry demon one time…”

“Wait what?” I asked, regarding Discord with suspicion. Apparently, Twilight hadn’t been kidding before about the creature’s past misdeeds.

“Long story,” he said meekly.

A slight smile finally returned to Celestia’s face. “If that’s all there is, I see no reason to keep you from your party.” Her levity gradually spread to everypony in the room.

Star cleared her throat. “Hang on. Aren’t we forgetting something important?” Star asked. “Alice’s magical signature corresponds to an infant alicorn’s. Couldn’t her hybrid magic mature along with her?”

Twilight pitched in: “While magic does mature with the individual, a unicorn or alicorn’s magical spectrum remains essentially the same throughout life. As such, the ratio between pony magic and draconequus magic should remain constant, meaning that as her magic develops the chaos magic will remain relatively diluted. Although, I would have to examine her carbuncle again to be sure.”

“Which can wait,” Celestia said. “Assuming you want to return to the party, of course.”

“Yeah, I do,” I said, making my first and last contribution to the discussion. “It’s better than having everypony talking about how unique and special I am.”

Celestia looked on me with regret. “I’m sorry, Alice. I forgot to consider your feelings on this matter. Is there anything you would like to add?”

“Not particularly. But what I’m getting out of this is that I can change my colors. Is it something I can learn to do?”

“Oh, yes,” Discord said.

“So how do I do it?”

“It’s like riding a bike; you’ll never forget once you’ve done it a couple of times.”

“So how do I do it?”

“Well that’s easy! You just—you know. Shift your coloration? Yeah, it turns out to be one of those things that’s too simple to be put into words. Sorry.”

I sighed.

Fortunately I figured it out relatively quickly. Still there was one thing that bothered me. The princesses hadn’t brought it up, but deep down, I knew what all of this meant for me. Closing my eyes again, I concentrated on negating any sort of previous color change. When I felt the brief fuzzy sensation pass, I waited a second to confirm my fears

Pink.

I saw pink.

My natural mane color was pink.

Although my experience with this new ability was limited, I knew beyond a doubt that this was the truth of the matter. There was a subtle difference in mana. Once I was cognizant of it, I realized a subtle mana stream had been flowing inside me for weeks. With this blue and pink color scheme that manifested when I relaxed my new ability, the flow ceased.

I sighed.

However, before I could delve into self-pity, the whole matter became a laughable. Honestly, who would even care about what my “natural” mane color was; I could change it whenever I wanted and nopony would be the wiser!

With a bit of effort, I turned my mane scarlet again so I wouldn’t forget later on and have Celestia preaching to me about embracing my inner pinkness.

Although it was now redundant, I slipped my ring back over my horn. I wasn’t about to trust a magical ability I just learned about in order to keep my identity secret. With my pressing curiosity extinguished, I trotted to the door and swung it open.

Latte came into view, and I watched in concern as she nimbly dodged the door.

“Sorry about that. Although, I do question the wisdom of orienting the door as such…”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” Latte said, more amused than anything. All of us are just used to it the way it is I guess. Besides, it’s an opportunity to train our reflexes. Anyway, I was looking for you.”

“Oh?” I said

“Yeah, I have kind of a big favor to ask you. I was going to ask you on the way to Taco Power, but I didn’t want to downplay your concerns. Anyway, I wanted to catch you before dinner. Is now a good time?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Let’s not talk here,” she said, suddenly lowering her voice. “We can talk in our room.”

Not wanting to be nosy, I kept my eyes trained on Latte, but from what I glimpsed, the twins’ room was spotless. It was adorned with candles and a couple of paintings. Following the change of scenery, I once more asked, “Well, what did you want?”

“Well, it’s about Squirt,” she began. “You may not know this but his father, Short Stuff, is actually
a famous hoofball player.”

“Really? I never would have expected.”

“Yeah, we try not to bring it to ponies’ attention because we want privacy. He’s famous as one of the smallest stallions to be successful at the highest level of the sport. Advanced stats don’t really like him, but he still has many fans that love him and insist that he passes the eye-test.”

“Truth is I don’t know much about hoofball, so I have no idea what you’re getting at.”

“It’s not that important, actually. I was just trying to give some background. At any rate, the important part is that he has always wanted Squirt to be more active, while our mother has encouraged his more sedentary interests. Well, our stepfather saw opportunity in the newly grouped green activities at camp and convinced our mother to get Squirt some more exercise so he isn’t completely out-of-shape come camp time.”

I almost felt embarrassed. I had never wanted to know this much about the inner machinations of Squirt’s family. A game developer and a hoofball player certainly made an odd match, and I could see how the two different worlds might clash.

“How does this relate to me again?” I asked, feeling like I had been set to repeat.

“I’m getting there,” Latte said patiently. “What it basically comes down to is that we signed Squirt up for a youth soccer league.”

“Wow. Happy Cuteceanera, Squirt,” I snarked.

Latte seemed to go slightly pale. “Please don’t tell him right now. I don’t want to ruin his special day.

I nodded, still soured by the idea.

“Thank you,” she said. “Now, it’s not that we want to make him do something he’ll hate, so we were hoping he could join at the same time as a friend.”

“No,” I stated flatly.

Her eyes were pleading.

“I know exactly what you’re thinking,” I said incredulous. “You want me to join the league too.”

“Would you?” Latte begged.

“I don’t think so,” I said with negligible regret. “As much as I want to be helpful, you’re asking too much.” Latte’s ears drooped. “Besides, I’m a filly now,” I added to soften my rejection. “Do you really think nopony would notice if I played in the colts’ section?”

“I’m not sure what you mean by that.”

“You know, it wouldn’t be fair for colts and fillies to play in the same league. They’re built differently.”

“Oh, I see what you mean, Alice. Yes, sometimes the differences do impact sports. In hoofball, for instance, stallions have an advantage in being bigger and heavier. They’re not necessarily stronger, but having more mass really affects the game enough to justify separate mare leagues. In most other pony sports, though, there are separate sections for each tribe rather than gender.”

“Oh.” I smiled. “But aren’t I supposed to be an earth pony? How are we going to get me in the unicorn group?”

“Oh, ponyfeathers… I hadn’t thought of that. It’s hard to keep track of who knows what about you…”

“Tell me about it,” I said with a chuckle.

“Well I guess you can’t… help—” She smiled. “Well, maybe River Glade can’t participate, but I think we could come up with somepony else.” She giggled at her own cleverness.

I’m really not going to like this idea, am I?

After conspiring with Latte, I returned to see the climax of the trolls game. It was too late to let me start playing, but Squirt offered to let me sit behind him as he explained how the game worked in more depth. The main object was to achieve a golden age by creating a society that could last a thousand years. It was by no means easy because random disasters could foil the most well-laid plans. I found myself hanging on every word as Squirt explained it. While superficially resembling Ogres and Oubliettes, this game was much more focused on the endpoint. Sadly, by the time I had invested myself in the game it had already ended.

Squirt stretched out. “Well-played everypony. Now what should we play next?”

Squirt’s stomach growled and the other colts laughed. I found myself joining in automatically. I’d probably have cursed such a response if it weren’t human nature too, so I let it slide.

“After dinner that is,” Squirt corrected.

“How many different games do you guys play anyway?”

The others looked at me weird.

“You know, I’ve never counted,” Squirt said with a shrug. “Thanks to Mom, I’ve been playing games since I was very young. But what else would we do?”

“Yeah,” Daft Hat said.

“Good question,” I admitted.

“Boys, dinner time!” Table Top called from downstairs.

“All right!” Golden Thimble said. “Your mom’s the best cook, Squirt.”

“Yeah, she’s alright,” Squirt said, grinning.

Dinner did not disappoint. While Squirt had initially been disappointed that we returned empty-hooved, his mom had prepared his favorite lemon curry. Strangely, I wasn’t that much of a fan of it. It wasn’t enough to get a complaint from me, but the texture was just too unusual. While I still cleaned my plate, everypony nonetheless noticed that I asked for no seconds.

After our late dinner, we pulled out some comically small foal-sized sleeping bags. I surveyed Squirt’s room a bit more and noticed a faint, almost invisible imitation of his new cutie mark painted on his wall in several places. His room didn’t have much in the way of decoration, and it made for a nice touch. While laying down my sleeping bag, I noticed some sheets of paper on the ground below Squirt’s desk. The first page was titled “My Cutie Mark Poem,” and I was a bit too eager to turn over the second page in hopes of “accidentally” encountering some ideas I could steal. Sadly, the second page contained only the word “the” in the top-left corner.

I snorted. Squirt had had no more luck than myself on that bothersome assignment.

“What is it, River?” Iron asked.

I almost reflexively started to lie, but for some reason, I elected to go with the truth: “Oh, we have this dumb cutie mark poem we have to do. I’m completely stuck on it, and by the looks of this, Squirt’s having no more luck.”

“Oh that? Yeah, it’s a pretty standard assignment from what I gather. I’m sure it’ll sound like canned advice, but just be honest about what it means to you. After all, it’s not like the teacher is going to tell you that your interpretation is wrong. Just be honest.”

“But if the teacher’s not going to challenge us, couldn’t we just make up whatever we want?” Squirt asked coyly.

“You said it not me,” Iron responded amused.

The bedroom door opened, and Squirt’s mom stepped in. “Boys, make sure you’re in bed by”— she paused for dramatic effect—”whenever you feel like!” Giggling at her own joke, she shut the door softly.

“I dunno about you guys, but I’m kind of beat,” Daft Hat said.

“You sure you don’t want to play another game?” Thimble asked, somewhat disappointed.

Squirt yawned. “Actually, I agree with Hat. We can always play another game in the morning.”

“Me three,” Iron added. “We can still talk after we turn off the lights—about our hopes and dreams, about games, about our crushes...” The last item was clearly tongue-in-cheek.

Hat snorted. “What are we a bunch of fillies?”

I didn’t laugh, but the others’ response was also weak.

“Just kidding, Squirt, we won’t grill you on it,” Hat said. “Though, I am curious how’re things going with that filly you’ve got your eye on. What’s her name again? Starburst?”

What…

“It’s Stardust,” Squirt said. “And not much has changed: she still thinks I’m an antisocial loser.” Then realization dawned on him. “You won’t tell her, right River?”

“Of course I won’t.” I said, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Squirt of all ponies had a crush. I could almost say I was disappointed in him.

From there, gaming talk once more took over. I tried to follow along as yawns started to overtake the group. Despite being the least active in the conversation, I was the last to drift to sleep, leaving me to ponder the strangeness of participating in a pony sleepover. All in all, it wasn’t that bad.

The next day, we played another round of Trolls because players could easily depart midway through. It turned out that the others’ moms didn’t yank them away as early as expected, and everypony stayed. And I actually had a ton of fun. I made the mistake of focusing too heavily on my military technology such that when a social movement undercut it, I was severely hamstrung. Thankfully, Iron Press was able to hire my excess soldiers as mercenaries and crisis was averted. I actually enjoyed making mistakes my first run through. It felt good that my actions had consequences.

By the time I had started to enjoy the party though, Squirt’s friends had started to depart. Finally, it was just him and I, and it started to get awkward. I was grateful that Star arrived when she did. However, the moment I had gotten back to the castle I had already started to miss the party. To start, I had nothing to do! And to make things worse, just when I had come up with a few ideas to occupy myself, Twilight summoned me to spend the rest of the day injecting magic into a machine in order for her to ascertain the extent of my abilities.

Celestia fortunately intervened when Twilight kept me past my self-imposed bedtime. I was asleep almost the moment my head hit the pillow. I must have been out cold because a maid or somepony else had apparently moved me after I had fallen asleep atop the covers.

Mustering all of my strength I triumphantly tipped over the heavy vermillion earth filly and pinned her to the ground. I wasn’t strong enough to keep her there, but the victory was mine nonetheless.

Stepping out of the ring, I stopped to catch my breath.

Bulwark trotted up behind me. “Wow, River! That was a really nice move you pulled off there. How does it work exactly?”

I shook my head and turned away from her. “You weren’t really trying, were you?”

“Sorry…” she said, guilt tinging her voice.

“It’s fine I guess,” I said, hoping to get her ears to perk up again. “A handicap makes sense, but I won’t ever feel satisfaction from a win obtained in this manner.

She put a hoof on my withers and patted me. “Holding back or not, I really was impressed by that feint you pulled off. I was convinced you had thrown your weight completely in the other direction!”

“Weighing as little as I do, I virtually have to catch you off-balance to have any sort of success. If you didn’t overcommit, even with all my strength, I doubt I could cause you to stumble.”

“Yeah… but I like a challenge myself,” she admitted. “I can’t fall into bad habits sparring with you after all.”

I pouted.

Bulwark smiled and patted me again. “So, do you think we could maybe get together this week?”

I actually wasn’t turned off by the idea, but I had gotten so used to making excuses that I offered one up before I knew what I was doing: ‘Probably not. I have a busy week. I got back from a cuteceanera yesterday. There’s Career Day, I have another party to go to tomorrow. Honestly, next weekend seems like such a long ways off at this point.”

Bulwark looked slightly disappointed, but she forced a smile to her face. “I can understand if you might be a bit reluctant to accept my invitation. After all, maybe dragging you to Maidens’ Paradise would be a bit much for a first time. I’ve thought about it quite a bit, and the worst thing I could do would be to push you into something you aren’t fully comfortable with.”

“I appreciate that,” I replied. “But actually, there’s something else I have to do on Saturday. I don’t know if I’ll even go at this point, but it’ll be a real pain if I do.”

Bulwark giggled. “I guess Star was wrong.”

“Pardon?”

“Oh, nothing,” she said, looking away guiltily.

“Now I’m even more curious,” I said, stomping a hoof. “Has Star been talking about me?”

“Well, she did encourage me to try and get you more involved. She said she was talking to Coffee Swirl about it, and she realized you weren’t very outgoing. Don’t get me wrong, though: I was going to invite you either way…”

I sighed. I wanted to be angrier, but I was normally more than satisfied with Star’s pseudo-guardianship of me that I let it slide.

“So what’s this thing you aren’t so excited about?” she asked.

“Well, it’s probably not going to happen, since I doubt Celestia would approve, but it involves adopting a disguise to go support a friend being forced into an activity he doesn’t want to do either. Long story really...”

She smiled. “That actually sounds kind of fun, but why would you need to go in disguise?”

“He’s a unicorn, while I’m supposed to be an earth pony. We can’t play in the same soccer league.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“I guess I could, but that would make things harder to explain. More importantly, I don’t think he would like me going out of my way for him.”

“Well, I think you should only go it if you want to do it. I think you would be pretty good at it, but it’s up to you. Ask yourself what River Glade wants.”

“What I want?” I echoed. It was so simple, yet strangely I had never considered my own feelings in this. I had just assumed it was another bothersome obligation. Although, I had to admit there was a childish part of me that would automatically refuse just to assert some control over my life.

Taking this into consideration, I asked, “Are there any differences in this version of soccer?”

“What do you mean by, ‘this version?’” She asked, confused.

“Oh—uhh… I mean in Canterlot.”

That was close. I had forgotten that Bulwark wasn’t in on the ‘from another world’ thing.
Fortunately, she bought it..

“Not really. I mean I guess it’s one of the few cities that have enough ponies to have six different youth leagues.”

“Six?”

“Well, there’s two for each tribe. One for younger foals, and one for older colts and fillies. Usually it’s on basis of having a cutie mark, but there are exceptions.”

“Oh...” I paused as a thought occurred to me. “You seem to know a lot about it.”

She shrugged. “Not really. I used to play soccer at recess with some friends is all.”

As the silence became prolonged we each nervously chuckled to ourselves. I had all but gone on a date with this filly, so there was a lot of uncertainty in the air. I didn’t want her to think that I wanted to get away from her, but at the same time I didn’t want conversation to circle back around to our mingling.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” I said nervously, turning towards the water fountains.

“Wait!” She said with a bit too much emphasis, becoming meek when I turned around, surprised at the commanding tone. “Umm… I mean if you want to practice with me… I’d—I’d really like that.”

“Excuse me?” I replied, somewhat startled. She had been a little too forthcoming there.

She scratched the back of her head with a hoof. “I mean… I can help you as well—help you decide if you want to compete or not. The guards have a ball in storage that I know about.”

I tried not to flinch at the thought of another awkward mingling—though a lesser part of me didn’t mind the idea of another PBJ and hay. Shaking my head, I rummaged through my scattered thoughts in search of an excuse.

“We still have practice—”

“Oh don’t worry, River,” a passing guardsmare supplied. “We’re all but finished for the day. Nopony would mind if you two checked out early.”

“Thanks, Ocean!” Bulwark cheered, zoning in on me expectantly.

I felt a wisp of nervousness slowly whisk around my stomach. “Heh. I suppose I should probably tell you the real reason I think this whole thing is a bad idea.”

Taking a breath, I related to her the entire explanation about my hybridized magic. At certain points, I could tell she wasn’t following completely, but she was attentive throughout. When I had finished, she flashed me a smile.

“That won’t be a problem at all!” She said.

“Seriously? You think Celestia will be okay with me using this unproven new ability just to play soccer?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I know! We can go ask her!”

“Wait! What!?”

“Come on!”

Sure enough, I found myself chasing the filly through the castle halls. Despite her size, she was considerably faster, though I did manage to keep her within sight. Midway through though, I started to slow down. After all, Celestia would surely side with me.

“Oh! Do Luna next!” Bulwark begged.

Without closing my eyes, I scrutinized my reflection and willed my mane and coat to Luna’s two-tone blue.

Celestia and Bulwark applauded.

“I still can’t believe I let you talk me into this, and now we’re playing dress-up…”

“It’s just cool!” Bulwark cheered. “Oh, do me next.”

Without warning the door flung open, revealing a pair of pegasus guards.

“We’ve got trouble,” the stallion panted, clearly panicked. “A prison break. The Miser. Maniacal Laughter. They’re both gone.

“Are you serious?!” Celestia asked chagrined.

I didn’t know whether to be thankful or concerned by this development, but at least it got the attention away from me. Although, it did make me wonder how Maniacal Laughter escaped the first time.

I felt a piercing gaze and turned to the source. “Can I help you?” I asked the stallion.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” the guardspony replied, clearing his throat. “Carry on.”

“Well, as interesting as River’s ability is, Bulwark, I have more urgent matters to attend to,” Celestia said before turning her attention back on the guards. “Does anypony have any clues?”

“I think Richter said he saw some suspicious ponies leave the palace,” the guardsmare said.

“Take me to him.”

“Yes, Princess.” She bowed and the two of them took off down the hall.

Not wanting to stay alone with the off-putting stallion that remained, I slipped out of the room with Bulwark behind me.

Left alone, the guard chuckled to himself once the foal was out of earshot.

With a flicker of magic, The Miser shifted back into his customary pony form.

“A coincidence? Perhaps, but the Queen just might be interested in this pony child after all.”

Author's Note

I had to take a very stressful certification exam. I'm hoping my exam stress didn't leak into the story.

Chapter 28

Unsurprisingly, Celestia spent the remainder of the day gathering evidence and testimony from various ponies around the castle. Bulwark and I were able to see her discipline the pony on whose withers the prison break rested, and honestly, I was amazed at the lashing she was able to deliver without raising her voice. It was only after we had witnessed the entire thing, that she finally seemed to remember we were following her and sent us away.

“So yeah, that was something…” I said, slightly frazzled.

“I’ve seen her like that before,” Bulwark added. “Even so, it’s still unnerving.”

“Well, you were right about her loving Latte’s idea to be sure. Apparently she, like you, thinks my hybrid magic is some sort of neat toy...“

Bulwark’s ears drooped. “I’m sorry I didn’t consider your feelings in the matter. I thought you would enjoy it just like us. But I should have known that it’s more complicated—”

Any further thought, however, was interrupting by Pink Diamond barreling around the corner.

“I’m so excited! I’m so excited!” She exclaimed. “Hey, River—” she suddenly froze and more carefully scrutinized me. The longer she looked the more perplexed she became. “I’m sorry, you look just like a friend of mine—same mane style and everything. Are you an exchange student? Can we be friends?”

“No,” I said flatly.

The crystal pony frowned for a long second before regaining her pep. “You look just like Luna—your colors I mean. Are you related? Are—are you a princess!? I’m sorry. Where are my manners?” She bowed.

Bulwark snickered.

Realizing the need to further distance myself from River Glade, I swept my mane to the side. “Nope. Just a horn here,” I said.

“Silly me. I should’ve known princesses have wings! Anyway, have you seen River Glade?”

“Yeah, he—she went that way.” I said, pointing in a random direction.

Pink Diamond started running in place. “I gotta get going then. Everypony has to know! It was nice meeting you—uhhh…”

“Lua,” I provided, throwing out the first name I could come up with.

“Well, if River Glade’s not around, I guess I’ll track down Cake Slice next. See you around, Lua. Bye!”

When she was out of earshot, Bulwark laughed to herself. “Quite a character that one. But how cool was that!? Fooling your friends with your pony chameleon abilities.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m starting to see the use,” I conceded. I then quickly came to the conclusion that it probably wasn’t the wisest course of action to inadvertently establish any more secret identities and relaxed the subtle flow of mana.

“Oh cool. Those look like the colors you had during our mingling! Except your mane’s pink this time...”

“What? Oh… Yeah, I just wanted to see if I could pull it off. I guess I wasn’t concentrating on the mane color enough.” Mentally chastising myself, I turned my ability back on in order to revert to River Glade form. I would have to be mindful of the interaction between the ring and this ability. Besides, mixing the two seemed like a poor idea in any event.

Bulwark suddenly struck a serious tone. “Thank you by the way, for including me. It means a lot that you trusted me with another secret.”

“Oh, you’re welcome?” I tried.

The response seemed to satisfy Bulwark.

“By the way, you corrected yourself to refer to yourself as a filly. Does she know too?”

It took me a moment to grasp what she was getting at before I responded. “Yes, I tried to keep it from her, but she assumed I was a filly right out of the gate. I didn’t even try to convince her otherwise. Most of the exchange students know I’m a filly too.”

Bulwark nodded. “Well, I can hardly fault her. It’s much more apparent with those colors than with your normal colors.”

“Yeah…”

“So what now?” Bulwark asked. “Are you going to try and catch up to her?”

“No, though I’m sure she’ll catch up to me eventually,” I replied. “It’s probably not that important. Why?”

“Well, if you want I’m still up for soccer… I mean, I can show you how to dribble and such. I’m sure you’ll be a natural.”

“I really appreciate it Bulwark, but— Actually, you know what? Why not? I like sparring with you and the other Junior Royal Guards. Maybe I’ll actually like another physical activity.”

“All right!” Bulwark cheered. “Not that you need persuading anymore, but I was going to remind you that if you like it, you can make it your green activity.”

“I hadn’t considered that.” Truthfully, I was grateful for a weekend without constant chatter about mandatory summer camp. “But wait, isn’t there a JRG group at camp?”

Bulwark nodded. “There is, but it’s catered towards newbies. I’m actually going to help run it!”

“Oh, wow. Good for you. I don’t suppose I can help too. Like you said, I still need a green activity.”

Bulwark frowned. “They usually only let the older colts and fillies help. Besides, it doesn’t count as one of your activities; it’s merely on a volunteer basis.”

“Darn,” I said. “I’m still stumped regarding what to pick.”

The earth filly took a few steps closer to me and foot a hoof on my withers. “You’ll be fine. With your athleticism, finding a green activity will be the least of your troubles.”

“I guess…”

“All right then! I’ll start you with some basic dribbling.”

There was a part of me with which I was becoming increasingly familiar that still wished I had said no as a matter of habit. However, upon thinking on it, I couldn’t ascertain any benefit to turning her down. In fact, I was enjoying her company as someone I didn’t have to lie to—at least not as much as usual.

When I saw her genuine smile, I knew it was worth it..

Bulwark’s tutorial was fairly basic. But since I had never played soccer as a pony before, it was rather illuminating. We started out with the basics of ball control. Considering I no longer had hands, there was no rule against using my front hooves to dribble. At first, I was hitting the ball too hard and was unable to keep up with it. Then I would not tap it hard enough, resulting in me nearly tripping over the ball. Of course, the biggest surprise was that the ball was normal-sized, meaning it was about half as big as me.

Bulwark looked rather good handling the ball, but it was easy to wonder how much of that was due to her height. Fortunately, she seemed to recognize this difference between us and was still able to give me relevant tips. Most notably, my small stature enabled me to use my head without craning my neck, so I would be able to control the ball partly with my chin.

It was slow work, but as the hours flew by I gradually grew accustomed to tapping the ball just hard enough to move it the length of my stride. Bulwark heaped praise on me, and I felt a genuine satisfaction from taking the first steps to master a new skill. Before I grew too conceited though, I had to remind myself that being able to do it when surrounded by defenders was another matter entirely.

I was surprised by how much Bulwark enjoyed coaching me. She stayed as long as she could, but to her chagrin she had to bid me farewell to go home for dinner.

“What’s wrong,” I asked, noticing a subtle change in her expression.

She blushed. “This will sound silly, but I’m kind of sad I have to wait until next week to see you again.”

I felt a familiar tugging on my heartstrings.

“I’m sure we can figure something out,” I said without thinking. “You live near the castle, right?”

“Yeah, but you said you were busy...,” Bulwark lamented.

I felt another twinge of guilt. This filly really liked me, and her genuine disappointment made me want to accommodate her.

“Actually, other than career day and an obligation I have to attend to tomorrow, I should be able to make time.”

Bulwark just smiled. “You’re a good friend, River, but it turns out I’m also busy all this week. I do appreciate the thought though.”

“Oh, okay,” I muttered. Truthfully, spending more time with Bulwark wasn’t the worst thing; in fact, I was now the one who ended up feeling rejected.

“Well, I can’t be late for dinner, so I guess I’ll see you around,” Bulwark said meekly.

“Thanks for all your help today. I had fun!”

My words echoed in my mind. To my surprise, I found them to be completely true.

Bulwark took a couple of steps towards me, uncertain. Somehow I knew what she wanted, and I was grateful that she was sensitive enough to hesitate.

I sighed. “Go ahead.”

Hopping towards me the filly squeezed me like a pony plushie. She was surprisingly gentle, and it did feel amazing. Still, I had my dignity to maintain, so I didn’t let on how much I enjoyed it.

We said our goodbyes, and I made my way to my room, satisfied with how I spent my day.

I wasn’t left alone with the afterglow for long though, and not two minutes later I heard an unfamiliar knocking pattern on my door. Nonetheless, I was fairly certain who it would be.

“Come in,” I said reluctantly.

The door flung open, and my eyes beheld pink.

“Oh! River! River! Exciting news! I’ve been looking all over for you! You’ve gotta hear this!” Pink Diamond rattled off rapid-fire. “I’ve been looking for you all day!”

I briefly felt bad about deceiving her before I considered that apologizing and letting her in on my special ability wasn’t exactly the most prudent course of action.

“What could be so important? And why look for me specifically?”

“I’m not telling just you, silly. I’ve already told Cake Slice, Perfect Cover, Mix-up, New Moon, Noble Truth, Monocle, and Hail Stone. You’re just the last pony—but certainly not the least!”

“Okay, what is it?” I wished I had some sort of excuse, but truthfully I had little else to do.

She hopped in place. “Get this: the secret surprise role model for career day for all us exchange ponies is going to be Celestia herself!”

She stood there with a big smile, waiting for my reaction. When I gave none she took a few steps closer and tried to make sense of my stoic expression.

“What does that mean?” I finally asked.

“What does it mean!? What does it mean? It means that all of us will get to shadow Celestia herself and watch her perform her princessly duties! What could be more exciting?”

I could name a couple things off the top of my head, but I decided to remain silent. Then again, I had completely forgotten that I had needed to find a role model, so I suppose that was something off my chest.

I then heard three firm knocks on my door.

“Oh, Celestia. Come in.” I said

The regal alicorn stepped through my doorway and Pink Diamond’s eyes went wide.

“Princess! What brings you here?” the filly asked, surprised.

“Hello, my little pony,” Celestia greeted. “I didn’t expect to find you in River’s room.”

“And I didn’t expect you to stop by River’s room either. Is she getting extra-special private friendship lessons? Oh! Can I get them too when I level up a bit more?”

The princess smiled in a compassionate way I had not seen paralleled in any other pony.

“It’s nothing of the sort, Diamond. In fact, I was going to stop by your room next. I have an exciting announcement for all of you.”

Pink Diamond smiled sheepishly.

“Yeah, I think the cat’s already out of the bag,” I said.

Celestia paused to think a moment and beheld Pink Diamond’s guilty expression before her eyes evidenced her realization.

“Dang it, Trusty…”

The walk to school mostly consisted of Pink Diamond chanting, “I’m so excited!” and “I can’t believe it.”

After assuring her for the tenth time that I was excited too, I saw her sprint ahead to tell all her friends about it.

I walked in right as the bell rang. The first thing I spotted was an obviously jealous Annuity next to a beaming Pink Diamond.

Well at least something good came of it.

“Good morning, “River,” Beakington III said.

“Oh hi, Beakington,” I responded through a yawn. “Anything new?”

“Not much,” he replied. “I’m going to shadow my mom tomorrow. She assured me it’ll be interesting, but I’ve always found that to be a tossup year-to-year. And we’re going to start Prench this week. That’s pretty cool. I’ve always wanted to learn another language.”

“I had forgotten about that,” I said while silently appraising the prospect. It was through sheer coincidence that I didn’t need to learn a new language to communicate with the ponies. I guess I had to pay my dues yet in that respect.

Fizzle took to the podium.

“Okay, everypony. Now, I’m sure you’re all excited to have tomorrow off for Career Day.”

The class cheered.

“I don’t mean to rain on your parade, but I suggest you take notes.”

“Awww,” the class collectively groaned.

“Now don’t think of it as homework. On Wednesday we’re going to do a writing assignment based on your experiences, and it will help to have some ideas written down.”

I sighed.

There goes any hopes that I might be excused from this experience. But at least it’ll be everypony there instead of me being booked for a private princess lesson.

The class seemed only slightly placated by the reassurance that it wasn’t homework. Personally, I appreciated the forewarning, which would afford me some time to make something up. I briefly entertained the thought of sharing ideas with Squirt, but my grade had suffered the last time we teamed up. Nonetheless, no writing assignment could top that dreadful cutie mark poem.

Fizzle clapped.

“All right, that’s all for today’s announcements. Without further delay I can turn the class back over to our planner-in-chief.”

Squirt sighed and took to the podium.

“Uhh… okay, everypony do your thing I guess,” he ordered.

That was enough for me and I once more took to painting the backdrop. I concentrated on filling in the outlines other ponies had already painted, but I quickly came to realize that my trees and clouds were clearly inferior and stepped back for a bit. Windy Skies seemed to know what she was doing, so I watched her work for a bit. I ultimately came to the conclusion that I was overthinking the whole working with hooves thing and decided to focus on circular strokes in order to give a sort of abstract flair to the scene.

Something then occurred to me.

“Wait. What scene are we painting exactly?” I asked awkwardly.

“The scene with the tickling tree,” Silver Lining answered.

“Okay, thanks,” I responded.

It did surprise me a little bit that I had done as much as I had without knowing, just following the leader. But in a way, it was a nice change of pace. Around the room, there was a constant low hum of chatter and I peacefully fell into the rhythm of my role. My brushstrokes seemed to sync with the sounds of sewing and hammering. These noises gradually rose in volume and everything else seemed to fade. Slowly I started to hum along.

By the time I had realized what was happening it was too late.

“Working together every day. Work for tomorrow so we can play,” most of the class sang. “Working together’s lots of fun; let’s do our best for everyone.”

“We’re on the costumes and all the clothes. We’ll look our best and strike a pose,” the sewing ponies sang.

“Thank you for your style and skill. Your sewing magic fits the bill,” the chorus sang back.

“Working together every day. Work for tomorrow so we can play. Working together’s lots of fun; let’s do our best for everyone.”

This time the ponies working on the more concrete props sang a verse: “Beaks and wings, accessories. We will make it—anything you please.”

That one was a bit forced. I guess these foals are still learning after all.

“You’re clearly doing all you’re able. From the crowns to the conference table.”

Conference table?

I turned my attention towards that area of the room. Sure enough, there was a broad, foal-sized, unpainted wooden table. The worksmanship even looked decent!

“Working together every day. Work for tomorrow so we can play. Working together’s lots of fun; let’s do our best for everyone.”

“Leading others is a mighty bore. Doing this work is such a chore,” Squirt chimed in unenthusiastically.

“Come now Squirt don’t be a jerk. There’s more to life than dodging work.” The chorus giggled after this line before repeating the refrain.

“Working together every day. Work for tomorrow so we can play. Working together’s lots of fun; let’s do our best for everyone.”

I had to wonder who’s part was next. Would I just be able to lip-sync when my part came? What would I do if I was expected to come up with something. I suppose I could do it. Tempted by the challenge of it, I mulled possible rhymes related to the painting.

“Painting the backdrop we’re almost done. Important work but it’s not fun.” I sang. “Wait—what!”

“Your effort gives the play more splendor. A lifelike tale we will render,” everypony sang.

“No! Really! What happened there!?” I belted out.

Dead silence.

“Aww man, River. You killed another song!" Zephyr Zap complained.

“We had a good thing going there,” Windy Skies agreed.

“And I didn’t even get to sing my part!” Annuity griped, removing her felt draconequus head..

“River that was rude,” Fizzle scolded. “I guess we can’t skip music class today…”

Just about every colt and filly in the room glared at me.

“He does have a reason to be surprised, though,” Pestle noted. “That was a weird falsetto you did there.”

“Yeah, that was weird...” Annuity said, scrutinizing me.

I cleared my throat. “Not sure what happened there,” I said, perhaps trying too hard to sound like a colt.

Fortunately the scrutiny ended there as I was pulled aside by Stardust and company to try on my wings and Tiara. The tiara fit perfectly, while the wings itched slightly. Surprisingly, they were made from chicken feathers and dyed to match my coat. Although Pestle had offered to make another dye potion for the play, the class voted the motion down. A tape-on cutie mark would suffice to identify Zephyr and me as the princesses.

Style then attacked me with a comb. I tried to back away, but the class seemed intent on making me into a filly mannequin. Fortunately the bell saved me, and I was able to escape from Style before she discovered the horn under my bangs.

All I wanted was to find a quiet corner of the playground in which to reflect on becoming an unwitting participant in a song sequence. However, trouble seemed to find me.

“What gives, Annuity! You think you’re better than us, calling us half-foals all the time, but you have a gift sister yourself! You wouldn’t say those things about her,” Blueberry Citrus shouted.

Annuity tossed her bangs to the side. “It’s obviously a very fine distinction that you wouldn’t understand. Obviously, my father provides for me, meaning he loves me the most. But as for Nest Egg, he gives her all sorts of presents and she’s welcome at our home any time. While your dad…”

She directed an incisive stare at Raspberry, who looked down and away.

“I thought so.”

“I—why—you!” From there, Blueberry mumbled angrily some more as he fumbled with a few half-formed insults.

Meanwhile, Raspberry had recovered. “Isn’t that just another way of saying you’re better than us because you’re rich?”

Annuity smiled. “You said it, not me.”

I sighed and retreated towards the schoolhouse. Part of me did want to jump into the fray, but the twins had been among Annuity’s favorite targets long before I had arrived, so I doubted I could change anything. However, as I watched the scene play out to its conclusion, I still felt somewhat guilty about letting Annuity trot all over them.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was on my hooves and walking back towards the twins. Stardust and Style seemed to have the same idea, though and beat me to the spot.

Oh good. They’re probably better at consoling other ponies than I am anyway, I thought.

Though I couldn’t make out the words from a distance, I could tell Stardust was talking fairly quickly. The orange-maned twins were nodding meekly along and looked more confused than anything else.

Oh, of course. I thought to myself before galloping into the mix.

“…and that’s why I think we should team up against Annuity. Because if there’s more of us she will think twice about picking on you.”

I held up a hoof to interject.

“Ah, Leader,” Stardust said. “We were just telling the Citrus twins about our group.” She turned back to the pair of foals. “So what do you say? Are you in?”

The siblings exchanged looks of concern.

“I don’t know…” Blueberry said.

“Yeah, won’t Annuity be even meaner to us if we stand up to her?”

Glancing at Stardust, I could tell she hadn’t considered that. However, it turned out she was pretty good at thinking on her hooves.

“That’s why she doesn’t have to know about it yet!” The young unicorn said.

“And how many members does this so-called alliance have?” Raspberry probed.

“We started at three, and now we’re at five! We hope to keep growing,” Style added.

The twins once more engaged in a silent dialogue.

“We’ll think about it,” Blueberry finally said.

“Great!” Stardust chirped, perhaps choosing to overlook their obvious reluctance. “Tell us when you decide!”

“I don’t know, Stardust. They didn’t seem too enthused,” Style said once the pair was out of earshot.

Stardust shook her head. “Persistence will pay off. You’ll see.” She then looked to me. “Good work, Leader.” With that, the pair of them trotted off.

I looked to my left to make sure they stayed the course before taking after the twins myself. It didn’t take long to catch up, but they slowed and faced me when they heard my hoofbeats.

“Umm… hi,” I said tentatively.

In that moment it occurred to me that I had never been reacquainted with the twins in my River Glade identity.

“We’re still thinking about it,” Raspberry said, impatient.

“No, it’s not that. I—I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“Huh?” Blueberry said.

“Oh, well, that’s nice…” Raspberry added.

The two of them stared, and I started feeling self-conscious, shuffling my hooves.

“I mean, you know. I know Annuity can say hurtful things sometimes, and I—well, Squirt’s gift sisters are really cool guardsponies. I certainly don’t think anything bad about them.”

Somehow my words were even less impactful than expected.

“Yeah, we know,” Raspberry said, trying her best to hide how dumb she must have thought that sounded.

“Oh, okay. I was just checking on you. Err… I mean—I didn’t want you to think we just wanted to sell you on our alliance.”

“Alright, we get it. Thanks,” Blueberry said, ending the exchange just as the bell rang.

Well, at least Equestria didn’t magically make me better at this touchy-feely stuff.

After suffering through another tedious music lesson and receiving a reminder to take notes from Ms. Fizzle, we were dismissed for the day. I declined to stay after for any games, as I wanted some time to myself. It was only when I got back to my room that it occurred to me that there was not anything I needed to do to prepare.

I went for Lunch in the cafeteria, which was becoming more of a regular thing. In the past, a maid would deliver food to me if I forgot, but I needed to look like less of a VIP and more like a regular exchange student. Still, I tried my best to time my meals in order to avoid Pink Diamond. I got enough of her on the way to school. Today, I ran into Cake Slice.

It seemed to take a lot of effort from her in order to muster the courage to ask me to sit with her, so I felt obliged to accept. We made some small talk, and eventually summer camp came up.

“So I heard Pink Diamond helped you pick your activities. I guess you’re all set then?” I asked.

She looked down.

“Well… actually, don’t tell her I said this, but I wasn’t ready to choose yet. She—she was trying to be helpful, so of course I accepted her help. I’m nervous about some of the activities, but I don’t want to tell her that.” She sighed. “What should I do?”

This filly was too adorable. She pulled out a nurturing part of me and made me want to help her.

“Don’t worry about Pink Diamond,” I said. “It’s your decision. Do what’s right for you.”

“But I don’t have any other ideas,” she murmured. “It wouldn’t be nice to switch out of her suggestions when I’m not sure I’d even like it better.”

I briefly found it amusing that I was about to start giving her advice on activities when I hadn’t picked a single one for myself, but I figured it would be easier to find activities for an actual filly as opposed to a transformed filly like myself.

“Well, what activities are you most worried about? Some must be more palatable than others,” I explained.”

“Well, there’s social dancing…”

“Social dancing—that’s a green one, right?”

Cake Slice nodded. “The catalog says we’re going to learn how to dance in pairs. I’m not sure I’d be able to handle asking another pony to dance. What if they laugh at me? And—also, what if I ask a colt to dance, and he thinks I like him? I don’t think I could handle it if anypony asked me to mingle.”

She actually looked fairly flustered by this. I considered relaying my mingling to her, but I doubted that would help too much. Honestly, if it were me, I’d be worried about giving colts the wrong idea too.

Note to self: cross-out social dancing.

“You’re not the only one struggling with finding a green activity,” I assured her. “Do you not like exercise?”

“It’s not that. It’s just—I don’t want to pick something I’ve never done before. The last thing I want is to drag down the rest of the group.”

“What did you do last time then?”

“Oh—umm… chess.”

Wow. I guess chess really was a soft option for ponies weak on green activities.

I finished off the last of my raisin cookie before answering: “Well, Cake. I might be more athletic than you, but I’ve never done any of the activities before either.”

I panicked briefly at the admission I hadn’t done camp before, but fortunately Bulwark had provided me with my way out.

“What I mean is I did the JRG for my green activities before, but this year it’s only for newbies, so I need to pick something else,” I told Cake.

“So what did you choose?” Cake asked, noticeably encouraged.

I hummed and hawed for a few seconds before cracking a sheepish grin. “Truth to be told: I still haven’t chosen myself. Sorry…”

“No, that’s good!” Cake insisted. “I can just choose what you choose. I mean, that’s okay with you, right?”

I once more felt the strange pressure, courtesy of her large, pleading eyes.

“Sure, I don’t see a problem. But what if I choose something that you don’t like.”

“That’s okay,” Cake explained. “I’ll at least know I’m not the only beginner.”

For a second, I nearly mistook her for Pink Diamond by the pep with which she sprung up and cleared her space.

"I’ll talk to you later, River. Thanks! I have to do some homework now.”

“Oh, okay. See you around,” I replied weakly.

What have I gotten myself into now? I thought as I finished my own meal.

Half an hour later, I heard an unfamiliar knocking on my door.

“Come in,” I said somewhat surprised.

This time a different alicorn princess was my guest.

“Hello, Twilight.”

“Hi, Alice. I heard about your sleepover from Princess Celestia, and I just wanted to say I think it’s really great.”

“Yeah…” I said hesitantly. I was sure Celestia would love my decision to go to Iron Jill’s party, but at least she saw fit not to gloat..

“Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. I came to report the results of a genetic survey the professor and I designed. From a sample size of two-hundred mares and fillies, we can conclude with eighty-two percent certainty that your natural mane color is pink. I have several theories to explain the change, and I personally feel the strongest is—”

I shrugged. “Yeah, I know. My mane’s pink.” I deactivated my ability for emphasis. “So what?”

“You already knew!?” Twilight almost sounded betrayed.

“Not for that long—just since I learned to control this color change thing. I didn’t tell you because I had a vague fear of being swept up in a musical number with you, Pinkie Pie, and Princess Cadance about how being pink is a wonderful thing.”

“That’s an unlikely thing to fear.”

I raised an eyebrow at her.

“Well, okay it might have happened, but I’d never force you into it.”

I turned around and emptied my saddlebags of all my school supplies. I opened a front pocket and took out my ring and crystal. With only the slightest of reluctance I left Discord’s gift behind. I didn’t want to tempt fate by wearing the second ring, and besides, having three things on my horn was awkward in any event.

Twilight seemed to be waiting for me for some reason, so I looked back at her expectantly.

“There’s actually something even more important, Alice,” she finally said.

I nodded.

“Your initial scans showed nothing abnormal concerning your new ability. And if I didn’t know what to look for, I’d consider it the scan of a normal unicorn filly—with one exception.”

I felt a weird sort of anticipation as a vague fear settled in.

“Go on,” I said.

“Well, I detected trace amounts of synergy between the magic of the three tribes—alicorn magic, in other words.”

“Does that mean I’m at greater risk from stray magic?”

Twilight shook her head. “The opposite, actually. While it would be possible for you to sprout wings and synthesize a gaean duct simultaneously due to some sudden magical event, the energy needed for both combined would be unusually high. It is for this reason I believe you are most likely to experience a gradual emergence of the other tribes’ magics. So it’s a good thing as long as you don’t do anything to try and use pegasus or earth pony abilities. That would have unpredictable results.”

“I see. Thanks for keeping me informed.” I paused to think for a moment. “Though I have to wonder was that really worth coming all the way to Canterlot to tell me?”

Twilight smiled. “I’d say you’re worth it, but no, it’s just a fortuitous arrangement. My friends and I are here to help Luna with a matter that’s… troubling.” Twilight seemed to clamp up there and quickly added, “Don’t worry I’m sure it will turn out all right.”

That was far from reassuring.

“Got it” I said with some finality.

Still, Twilight remained, and I had a feeling she still had a lecture in her.

“This is where you give me the bad news, isn’t it?”

“Far from it,” Twilight chirped. “I just wanted to tell you about my first sleepover in Ponyville.”

She then proceeded to tell me about how one stormy night she, Rarity and Applejack cozied up in the library together. I was surprised how Twilight had to serve as a buffer between the other two back then.

When she had finished, I was finally able to get a word in. “That’s a useful lesson, but I don’t think it’ll apply to me. I’m probably going to be the only one at that party.”

“Why’s that? It’s hardly a sleepover with only one guest.”

“Iron Jill she —she’s not very popular. Most ponies are scared of her, or do their best to ignore her. In the past, nobody has come to the parties her mother has tried to arrange.”

“That’s tough,” Twilight began. “I guess you’ll just have to be the best friend possible.”

“I’ll try,” I said with uncertainty.

With that Twilight excused herself, and not too long later, I departed in turn, Star to my side.

As soon as I set foot on the welcome mat, Star vanished, leaving me to knock. Jill’s residence was on the third floor of an apartment complex, leaving me to speculate about her family’s financial status. It took a minute for me to get an answer when Jill herself got the door.

“Iron Jill welcomes you, River Glade,” Jill greeted. “You shouldn’t have come.”

I flinched slightly at the unusual greeting. Was she being hospitable or not?

“Hello, Iron Jill. You don’t need to worry about me,” I said diplomatically. “This party fit my schedule perfectly, so I figured I might as well check it out.”

“Come in. Iron Jill doesn’t know what lron Jill can do with little ponies, but Iron Jill will try.”

Following her in, the first thing I realized was my estimate of her economic status was completely off-base. I estimated this apartment could fit Squirt’s entire house inside—at least in terms of square-footage. The ceiling was higher than any building I had been in with the exception of the castles. Jill led me past a mostly chrome kitchen area adorned with granite countertops.

“Are you hungry?” Iron Jill asked bluntly.

“No, I just ate. Thank you,” I replied.

The minotaur girl gestured towards the pantry. “Iron Jill’s got lots of snacks. Help yourself.”

“Good to know.”

Silence hung on the air as Jill and I took a seat in a nearby den area of the same room.

Compelled to make small talk, I brought up the thing that was most distressing at the moment: “Sorry about interrupting the class’s song today. I guess I didn’t think my part was that good.” I was willing to reluctantly participate in pony songs, but I drew the line at unwitting participation.

“Iron Jill is happy you interrupted the song. Iron Jill hates singing. Iron Jill didn’t know what she would sing regarding promoting the play.”

I was wondering what Annuity and the others were doing over there…

I heard the sound of keys jingling and the door flung open.

“Jill, I’m home! I got off early, so I stopped and bought some of your favorite soup. So we can have that for dinner tonight and—”

The moment I locked eyes with the adult minotaur, she dropped the shopping bags and her eyes went wide. Before I could comprehend what was happening, she closed the distance between us and wrapped me in a hug.

“Why hello there, little pony! Aren’t you just the cutest thing. Did you come for Jill’s party? That’s so thoughtful of you”

She continued to stroke me, and I had to fight every impulse to start purring. To my mixture of pleasure and dismay, there was something magical about a minotaur’s hands.

“You see, Jill,” the adult minotaur said, “all you needed to do was keep trying and trying and now you’ve made a pony friend.”

She suddenly released me.

“Oh, that’s right! Ponies need sugar. I’ll bake some cookies right away!”

She released me and make her way noisily to the kitchen area.

“No, really that’s okay I don’t need cookies—” I tried to interject.

“You’ll love them—I’m sure!” Jill’s mother insisted. “All the ponies at the embassy love my chocolate chip cranberry cookies. Jill, why don’t you show your friend your room?”

“Okay, follow Iron Jill,” the young minotaur prompted.

“Jill, what did I tell you about talking like your father? Referring to yourself in the third person is completely unladylike!”

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Jill recited. “Follow me, River.”

I meekly obeyed as I tried to process what I had just learned.

In the meantime, I observed that Jill’s room was easily twice the size of Squirt’s. It had it’s own private bathroom, a bed better sized for Jill’s proportions, and a broad window offering a view of the streets of Canterlot below. I keyed in on her headboard which was adorned with dolls of various species—ponies, minotaurs, deer, yaks, zebras, griffins and more. Placed in between the dolls were several trophies of varying sizes. That still didn’t distract from my curiosity about Jill’s speech patterns, but I didn’t want to to be seen as nosy.

“So what are the trophies for?” I asked with mostly feigned interest.

“Oh, those? I won them at chess tournaments.”

Chess again? Not just with Cake Slice and Squirt, but it had also come up in Xelning’s book. I wondered if it might be culturally important to minotaurs somehow.

“Wow. You have quite a lot. I didn’t expect you to play chess. That well I mean.” Unfortunately, my last-minute edit didn’t change the fact that I had put my hoof in my mouth.

“It’s something I’ve done since I was little. Mom always encouraged me to practice. She had read some study that it made calfs smarter. And for the first few years, I just did it because she told me to. It’s sort of grown on me, but it’s still not my favorite thing to do. But I’m too invested in it to back out now, anyway.”

“So you’re pretty good then—not that that’s surprising I mean.”

Jill sighed. “I know I haven’t fought the perception that I’m a dumb taur, but since you already know how I talk at school is fake, I may as well tell you the truth. You see, my dad has always stressed that minotaurs should be assertive and to the point. That’s the reason he talks like I do at school—it makes a statement and basically dares others to correct him.”

I smiled, guilty. “I’m sorry. I completely bought into that perception of you.”

Jill laughed. “What, did you think I just didn’t know grammar?”

I averted my gaze. “Sorry…”

“It’s fine,” Jill said. “I’m the one that chose to present myself that way.”

“Why’s that?” I asked, bracing myself for backlash. I was prying a bit much.

“At my old school, the ponies would make fun of me, calling me a dumb taur regardless of how well I was doing in school. When I arrived at Canterlot First, I knew it would happen again if I didn’t do something. So I copied my dad and tried to come off as tough as possible. I thought maybe that way ponies would let me be.”

I supposed that way of speaking was intimidating in a certain way, but somehow that explanation didn’t completely satisfy.

“I can understand why you would want to be forceful, but that’s not the same as pretending to be dumb. I mean, you could have been assertive without underselling your intelligence.”

Jill sighed. “It’s another taur thing. My dad always told me that reading books was a waste of time and that doing things is more important than thinking them. But my mother was actually unusual in that regard: she’s always encouraged me to build on my brainpower as a way to move up in the world. Flaunting it, however, is completely unladylike.”

Her explanation made a lot of sense. Somehow, I found it all eerily familiar.

I heard a single knock before Iron Jill’s mom proceeded to open the door. “Sorry to interrupt. The cookies will be a while, so I thought you two might want a snack.”

On the plate were a couple of sticks of celery with peanut butter and raisins on top. The combination confused me, but I did like all of the components individually.

We both thanked her and took a bite. It tasted exactly as expected, but that wasn’t such a terrible thing.

“Thanks, Mom,” Jill said.

“Yes, thank you,” I repeated.

The adult taur once more stroked my withers. “You’re very welcome, dear. Anything you want that I can provide just name it. Any friend of Jill’s is always welcome here.” She continued petting me for several seconds more before adding, “All right, I’ll leave you two to it. Just holler if you need anything.”

With a wink, she vanished around the corner.

Jill chuckled uncomfortably. “Sorry about that. My mom really loves ponies.”

“I could tell…”

“In a way, it makes her good at her job, but it can be distracting.”

As I chewed, I imagined the minotaur trying to pet Celestia. Somehow, it wasn’t as ridiculous as I’d have thought.

The silence persisted, and I looked to Jill. She seemed just as uncomfortable with it as I was.

“So… now what?” I finally ventured.

Jill shrugged. “I really don’t know. No one has ever come before.”

I once more felt a pang of sympathy for the taur girl. Even though I had already made myself show up, I wanted to do more.

“Oh, I know. We can play a game of chess,” I said, voicing the first non-terrible idea I came up with.

Surprisingly Jill didn’t jump on it and said, “I don’t know. What ponies don’t get about chess is that there’s a pretty big skill gap between tournament players and casual players.”

I believed her, but desperate for an icebreaker I wasn’t deterred.

“It can’t be that bad, can it? I’m not a complete beginner.”

“Checkmate,” Jill mercifully declared fifteen minutes later.

Fifteen minutes was a bit of a stretch, actually. I had proceeded to lose most of my chessponies—the pawns were horse-shaped, while the knights resembled a guardspony’s helmet—within the first five minutes. Jill then let me capture most of her extra pieces for free until all that remained were the kings and her bishop and knight. I thought I might have a chance of surviving, but she methodically pushed my king into one corner before herding and checkmating me in the other corner.

“I—I don’t get it,” I said meekly, humbled by the experience.

“You lost the moment you let me fork your minor pieces to win a knight for a pawn. After that I thought I may as well practice the knight and bishop mate. If I messed it up, you would’ve drawn, so it’s a win-win.

“So you used me for target practice basically?”

“Essentially, yes.”

I laughed nervously, while tracing circles on the carpet with my forehoof.

“Well, I guess I can’t blame you. That way you at least get something out of it. So that bishop and knight thing is kind of hard?”

She nodded. “Very.”

Jill’s mom, Steel Pact, then barged with the cookies. I was grateful for the interruption truthfully.

Iron Jill took a tentative bite out of her first cookie. “I don’t understand why ponies like sugary foods so much. They’re just too sweet.”

I actually liked these cookies, but I was eager to find something relatable. “I’m not too big on cookies either, Jill. I have to be reminded to eat my sugar.”

Unfortunately that didn’t jump start the conversation.

“River, you can go if you want.”

“Huh? W—what are you talking about”

“You don’t need to be here. I appreciate that you’re trying to be nice to me, but with just the two of us, it feels kind of pathetic. It’s not your fault; I appreciate you trying.”

This was my chance. Part of me didn’t understand why I didn’t seize on the opportunity. However, there was a stronger compulsion to stay, and choosing to leave right then was even more unpalatable.

“Jill, I’m not just peddling vague pity for you. I care—well, the reason I think I care is because I can relate with feeling out of place. At my old school, there were many things that were done differently. We had to memorize a lot of… stuff. All the other students bought into this and followed the teacher, but I felt wrong—different. Occasionally, we were given bona fide knowledge, and I would devour it as if starved. I wanted to beg for more—to learn more, but when I did, I was reprimanded. And eventually I stopped trying. I guess after hearing you explain your dilemma, I’m even more convinced that we’re alike.”

Jill seemed to be mulling over my words carefully.

Suddenly, I felt exposed. This was an insight that I didn’t even know I had, and I had entrusted Jill with it. There was no guarantee that she wouldn’t turn it against me. And before I even began to confront this rationally, a second wind of fear coursed through me when I began to wonder this compassion was a creation of Equestria in its scheme to make me conform.

I don’t usually do this. I—why. There’s no benefit for me telling her…

Instead, Jill reached over and started to pet me. Fortunately, she was less intrusive than her mother, and I found myself leaning into it.

Ponyfeathers. Minotaur hands are amazing.

“Thanks, River,” Jill said, “but I’m okay with my role in the class. I didn’t mean to critique my parents’ rearing of me in front of you, but it’s good to know I’m not the only one to face what I’m going through. But unless you have more heartfelt revelations on hand, I doubt we can keep this up all night.”

Somehow I wasn’t convinced that she was happy playing dumb, but I held my tongue. Putting a hoof to my chin, I considered ways to salvage the party. The solution I came up with, while obvious, would require even more uncharacteristic behavior from me.

“What if I invite some more ponies?” I offered.

“That won’t work. My mom already tried everypony in class.”

I smiled. “Your mom invited them, but if I invite them, we may have more luck.”

Jill looked like she was fishing for an excuse.

“I guess we can try, but how would we deliver the invitations? And who would respond to an invitation this late?”

“To the latter, I happen to know that the Canterlot custom is being flexible. As for communications, we can ask Star.”

“Who?”

I walked across the room and opened Jill’s window.

“Star!” I called. “Star!”

Reflexively, I turned around in hopes of catching her in the impossible act of appearing behind me.

“Star?” I tried at normal volume.

“Yes, River?” the mare finally answered, fluttering down from the roof.

“I know you’re supposed to keep an eye on me, but is there any way you can invite some more ponies to come to this party?”

Star beamed at me. I could tell she wanted to praise me but was holding back. “Who should I invite?” she finally asked matter-of-factly.

“I don’t know. Just the ponies I know like Bulwark, Cake Slice, Stardust, Style, Beakington III, Thaumaturgical—”

“Wait. Thaumaturgical and Beakington?” Jill asked, shooting me a look I couldn’t decipher.

“Fair enough,” I conceded. “Those two aren’t for everyone.”

“Mind if I step in for a second?” Star asked Jill.

“Sure,” said Jill.

The pegasus squeezed in through the window and extended a hoof to the minotaur girl.

“Hello. My name is Star Chart. I supervise River as part of the exchange program. You must be Iron JIll. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh hi. Nice to meet you too ,” Jill said shaking Star’s hoof. “I didn’t know exchange ponies get their own guards.”

“You’ve got it backwards,” Star said coyly, hugging me. “I’m not his guard; he’s my adorable exchange pony. But I’m willing to do this favor for him since he’s being so thoughtful.”

I scowled at her. I was fine with her heaping silent praise on me, but her making it explicit made me feel all the more like a child.

However, before I could object, she saluted and defenestrated herself.

It only later occurred to me that Star must have known the addresses of all my friends offhand. That mare was frighteningly thorough.

“You were saying?” I gloated to Jill after a loud rapping on the door.

Eager to admire my handiwork, I slid back into the living room to greet our additional guests. Jill’s mother’s jaw was on the floor as Stardust and Sunny Style trotted in, unknowingly avoiding her smothering attention.

“Hi River!” Stardust chirped. “When we heard you were here, we changed our minds about this party real quick.”

Pact froze and slowly spun around to face me.

“You… you invited some of your friends?”

“Yeah...” I answered, blushing. “I’m sorry I should have asked first.”

“Are you kidding!?” Pact picked me up and twirled me around. “That’s wonderful! You’re an amazing friend. Thank you! Thank you!”

She put me down and I walked zigzag like a wind-up toy, completely dizzy.

“Oh that’s right!” Steel Pact said, hammering a fist into her palm. “I’ve got to buy more soup. Don’t mind me. You girls have fun!”

It was only after she sped out the door that I remembered I had to correct her grouping me in with the fillies. Stardust and Style were already eyeing me with interest.

“Heh. Someone else thinks that I’m a filly. I should probably cut my hair at this point.”

Stardust and Style exchanged a look and laughed.

“Of course you’re a filly, River. You wouldn’t have been invited to a girls’ sleepover otherwise.” Style finally offered.

“Yeah, half the class is wondering if you’re a filly; this just confirms it,” Stardust agreed.

Stunned into silence, I tried my best to process what they had just told me. If true, I would be required to reconstruct my entire persona before the class. What would I tell them? How could I begin to explain why I had pretended to be a colt?

“I think her expression speaks for itself,” Stardust declared after looking me over.

“Huh?” I intoned.

“I was bluffing,” Stardust explained. “I was seventy percent sure, but your reaction closes the case.”

I looked down and blushed, feeling exposed once more.

“Can you not tell the others? Please,” I pleaded.

“Why is that?” Style asked. “I get that you wanted us to think you were a colt, but why?”

I swallowed hard. “It’s… long and… complicated.”

The friends exchanged a look.

“Okay then,” Stardust said, patting me on the withers. "As fellow AAA members, we’ll take your word for it. Though if you want to keep it a secret much longer, you may be out of luck.”

“Okay, you have my attention,” I conceded. “Why?”

“Annuity and Pestle have a little wager going,” Stardust explained.

“It’s a bet to see who can prove you’re a filly first,” Style added.

I sighed. “What gave it away?”

“Hmm, what indeed?” Stardust mused to herself. “I suppose nothing gave it away, but you’ve been looking prettier lately. Some of the colts have even commented on it.”

“That settles it: I’m cutting my mane...” I commented.

“Don’t! It looks great!” Style said before looking to Jill. “Umm… you’ve been quiet, Jill. Do you have anything to add as the hostess?”

“Iron Jill knew River Glade was a filly. She smells like one.”

I froze in place.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked.

Jill shrugged. “It was none of Iron Jill’s business. River Glade can be a colt if she wants.”

“You know, Jill, you’re right!” Stardust said, mirroring my admiration for Jill’s simple wisdom. “As much as I would like to rally around River as our new queen bee, she’s probably not comfortable with that. I guess we’ll have to wait until she’s ready to tell us herself why she pretended to be a colt for so long, right?”

I had to hand it to the minotaur girl. I was liking her more and more. Still, if I had had to face a reckoning regarding my public image, I saw no reason why I should be alone in that regard.

“Jill, you don’t need to talk like that. Stardust and Style are good ponies, so you can drop the forceful persona.”

“Iron Jill has no idea what River Glade means!” Jill said defiantly.

I stood my ground. “Jill, please. They were nice enough to come to your party. Give them a chance.”

“Ir—I suppose I can.”

“Woah…” Stardust remarked. “I wasn’t expecting that. What about you, Style?”

“I thought that was just how minotaurs talked,” Style confessed. “Not that they are dumb I mean, but because… I don’t know.”

“It’s fine,” Jill assured her with a smile. “You’re not entirely wrong about it just being a taur thing.”

I then had a sudden, benevolent idea that I know Celestia would have been proud of.

“Stardust likes to learn, too, Jill. You two should try talking about what we’re studying in school.”

“I don’t know,” Jill said. “I’m not as studious as Stardust is.”

“Don’t be shy,” Stardust replied with encouragement. “There’s plenty for us to talk about. For instance what do you think of the cutie mark poem, Jill? Wait, do you have to do one? I’m not sure how you could. Not to be rude or anything.”

“Ms. Fizzle let me just write about something I’m good at,” Jill replied. “Mine’s about reading; I’m mostly done with it.”

“Really? What types of books do you like to read?” Stardust asked.

“Mostly minotaur-authored novels. You probably wouldn’t know any of them.”

“Makes sense,” said Stardust.

Silence again. I began to regret volunteering to be a facilitator.

“How about you show them your room, Jill?” I suggested on a whim.

She took the suggestion, but after some initial remarks about how big the room was, the conversation started to falter once more. I considered bringing up the day at school, but I hardly wanted to direct the spotlight back on my brief singing role. Still, this was preferable to the conversation looping back to my gender, so lacking any other topic, I decided to risk it.

“Preparing for the play sure is hard work,” I commented. “And I got the easy job.”

“I find it fun,” Stardust said. “Making the costumes really lets me unleash my inner artist. I’m just about done with Gildeus’s attire. You’ll look great in it, Jill—I promise. It does stink having to work with Bubble, though. She’s completely monopolizing the princesses’ regalia. While she is better than me, she doesn’t have to be so arrogant.”

“I’m honestly amazed that you can make the costumes all by yourselves. You’re so good with that sewing machine at such a young age. And that other group making a table by hand! It looks really good,” I lauded.

“I’m floored as well,” Jill admitted. “I don’t have any skills like that. I’m envious, really.”

“It will come in time for both of you. You’re only thirty, River, so you’re right at the age where your parents will start teaching you these life skills. And Jill, you’ll be an adult much sooner than us, and you’ll have plenty more time to learn. I’ve been practicing my sewing for about a dozen years. And Bubble has been doing it even longer—though she also happens to have crafts as her special talent. You two are fine. Everypony learns at their own pace anyway.”

“My mother is a diplomat. I don’t think she’s taught me much diplomacy. And my Dad—well, he’s a self-employed motivational speaker. My mom says there’s no future in that, so I try not to copy him too much.”

Another period of silence suddenly morphed into an ominous energy. Excitement engulfed Sunny Style.

“This talk is nice and all, but can we get to what we all really came here for?” Style asked.

“Yeah,” Stardust said, showing the same ominous eagerness. “There’s enough of us here, so it’s about time we do what we fillies do at sleepovers. Do you have the goods, Jill?”

“I do,” the minotaur answered, imbibing some of their enthusiasm.

“Wait! I’m not ready. I—I’m not recovered! I already had to do that less than a week ago,” I protested.

Style grabbed me by my mane and dragged me to the table in the den.

“No excuses,” Stardust chanted happily. “Don’t worry we’ll go easy on you.”

I almost cried tears of exasperation.

Anything but gossip! I’m not sure I’ll be able to go back after sharing inner secrets at a filly sleepover!

Mercifully, albeit two hours later than I would have liked, Steel Pact called us to dinner. Her soup was easily the most banal thing I had ever had in Equestria. It was literally just plain tomato soup with some seasoning tossed in. The bread we were given to dip was actually better plain. None of this detracted from my companions’ cheerfulness in the slightest. Meanwhile, my head was spinning and about ready to burst from unwanted information.

“So how did it go girls? Did you get anything good?”

“Sure did!” Style said. “I’m not even sure which part was my favorite there were so many.”

“I’ll say,” Stardust agreed. “We tried our best to go easy on River, but we all kinda got carried away. We ended up taking a lot more than River wanted to provide for sure.”

“Girls, she’s new to this! It’s not nice to take advantage of her like that,” Pact scolded.

I whimpered. It didn’t console me much to have an advocate after the fact.

“While that was… an experience. I doubt I’d want to do that again… ever,” I said, exhausted.

“Cheer up, little pony,” Pact said. “Everyone has a first time. You’ll get better. You just need to become acquainted with the flow of the game—learn not to give up needless points by letting others see through you.”

I nodded weakly. There really was something of an exact science to it, although that didn’t stop me from taking it personally.

“You did fine for your first time, River. When you started out you didn’t know a taatsu from a toitsu.”

“I—I still don’t…What are those again?”

The others just laughed.

“Did you see that suji trap I pulled off?” Stardust boasted. “I went for the penchan wait to try and get somepony to throw me the dora.”

“I knew it was a bad idea to cut the nine pin. I only did it to keep my hon’itsu tenpai,” said Jill.

“I actually got to ryanpeikou iishanten that same hand,” Style added. “How often do you see that?”

“Can you guys please speak Equish?” I begged.

“It’s not that hard, River,” Style insisted. “You’ll get better at your next sleepover for sure. You just need to get some memorize the basic yaku, learn defensive techniques like betaori and suji, and get down basic tile efficiency.”

I turned to Steel Pact, seeking validation. “Am I missing something? Why mahjong? Why is it a staple of filly sleepovers?”

Jill’s mom chuckled. “It’s a long story, but it basically boils down to one Canterlot noble bringing back a set from Neighpon. She invited a few friends over, and it took off like wildfire among upper-class ladies.”

Maybe Stardust and Squirt are more alike than I thought. Or maybe fillies love games just as much as colts do.

I was sure I was right, but I was also fairly certain the fillies would deny this commonality.

“Ahh. Thanks for the meal,” Stardust said with a straight face.

“Yes, thank you,” Style echoed.

“Yeah, what they said,” I said playfully.

“All right!” Stardust declared, seizing the initiative. “I figure we can get in a hanchan or two before bed, so let’s get to it!”

“More mahjong?” I protested. “Haven’t I lost enough for tonight?”

“River’s right, Stardust,” Style agreed. “We don’t want too much of a good thing. Besides, we haven’t talked about colts yet!”

I froze in place and quickly rationalized choosing the lesser of two evils. “So yeah, mahjong! Let’s play another han-thingy,” I suggested.

The others laughed, seeing right through me. Thankfully they didn’t call me out on it.

Despite being told not to “feed,” I dealt in round after round, often ending the game early by running out of points altogether.

Fortunately, Jill’s mom was strict when it came to bedtime, so she was able to cut short my tile-based suffering. Once we were in bed no talking was allowed either, so I was able to curl up peacefully, pondering in disbelief how easily they had accepted me as a filly.

Barely avoiding a jet of lava from the pit below, I landed cleanly on a giant floating mushroom before readying myself to jump to the next in rhythm. I continued to jump nimbly from mushroom to mushroom across the sea of lava, occasionally picking up the socks that had been scattered all over the level. Finally, the pony hut I had been looking for finally came into sight. However, the small obsidian island was more than a single hop away.

Trusting my partner, I galloped towards the gap and jumped as far as I could. Predictably I only made it halfway across the gap. On cue, at the height of my jump, Philomena poked her head out of my backpack and started flapping her wings. Despite the weight disparity between us, her strong wings managed to barely carry us across the lava. Breathing a sigh of relief, I knocked twice on the door of the pony hut.

As expected, the familiar brown stallion greeted me in the doorway.

“Good job finding me. I know my houses aren’t in the most hospitable environments, but I appreciate you always taking the time to visit me.”

“Enough with the small talk, Pony Boy. Cough up the new move,” Philomena urged.

“I’ll get to it, Chicken Crisp,” he taunted in turn. “For pony’s sake. I give you the moves you need to progress through the game. You would think that would merit a little respect, but no. For this new move I will need thirty-five socks, a golden banana, this level’s friendship coin, and a ham and pickle sandwich.”

“Here you are,” I said, emptying the items he listed out of my backpack.

“Man, with all these collectibles, I feel like I’m back in the nineties,” Philomena complained.

“Thank you,” the brown stallion said. “Now, this new move will make use of Dodo’s fire abilities. Simply press L and then B to shoot a fireball loogie.”

“That’s disgusting. how did you come up with that one!?” Philomena protested.

“I figured since you mostly just ride along in that backpack, you could do worse than pitching in a little bit,” the stallion chided.

“Yeah, come to think of it, you mostly just weigh me down. Why do I need you again?” I joshed.

“I’m your double-jump, Kiddo,” she countered. “You wouldn’t get anywhere without me.”

“But I’m an alicorn…” I noted. “I have my own wings…”

“Well there’s also my sardonic wit, and uhh… hey, I think I see some more socks over there!”

The brown stallion sighed while slowly closing his door. “No amount of socks is worth putting up with you two.”

Fortunately, Philomena stayed quiet for the rest of the journey, and I jumped between platforms, beat up baddies and collected socks in peace. Eventually, I came to Annuity the Troll’s toll bridge and gave her sixty-five socks in order to access the level’s boss. Walking through the gigantic double-doors, my heart was pounding. Suddenly a sinking sensation developed in my stomach as I was transported what felt like a great distance.

In Ms. Fizzle’s Ponyville classroom, I found myself anxiously doodling circles on my scratch paper as my precious time ticked down. To my side, Lyra Heartstrings looked just as confused as I was, idly flipping her papers over. Meanwhile my other neighbor, Filthy Rich, was trying to surreptitiously bribe Ditzy Doo.

“A test! I didn’t know we had a test!” Pinkie called out. “And I’m naked!”

Everypony shushed her.

“Nopony told there there was a test! I didn’t study! Of course I never really studied for tests and I always did fine, but that was in the past, and I haven’t taken a test since I was a filly. Why would I be taking a test now!? Does it have something to do with the ice cream social just now? Is the test about ice cream? I’m not sure I can name more than three hundred and fifty-two flavors off the top of my head. What if I don’t pass? Will Sugarcube Corner fire me!?”

A slender, mist-like blue tendril tapped her on the withers.

She turned around with a smile. “Oh, hi, Mr. Blue Smoke Monster.”

Her mane and tail suddenly straightened and shot straight up as she galloped away out the door. I was overcome by an unnatural fear as well and took off after her.

Strangely happy music played with the monster hot on our tails as we made our way down a never-ending hallway. We came to a section with eight doors, and Pinkie and I chose doors at random. However, regardless of which door we chose, we somehow ended coming out of one of the other doors into the same hallway. Our roles even reversed for a five second span, and somehow we ended up chasing the monster.

When I realized this I tried to turn around on a dime and ended up tripping. A blue smoke tendril pinned me down, and the monster’s body obscured all light from around me.

When I came to, I found myself in my room at the castle. Recovering quickly, I barely registered the strange shift in scenery. Tiphoofing around, nothing seemed amiss at first, but when I approached the mirror, I came to a full stop.

From head to hoof, I was completely decked out in princesswear. It resembled my costume from the play, only it was real. From tiara to horseshoes I looked completely prim and proper. I was even sporting a beautiful pair of earrings and a necklace.

Knocking in her characteristic manner before opening the door, Star greeted me with a smile.

“Princess Alice, we need to get you ready. We have a full day ahead of us. You have a spa date to keep this morning; then we need to get you fitted for a dress by Rarity, which will leave us just enough time to take you to the beautician.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the blue smoke monster slip out the window.

As Star picked me up by the neck, I jolted awake, panting.

That sure was a weird nightmare. I thought. For a moment there, it felt like more than that.

I shrugged it off. Surely it was nothing to worry about.

Author's Note

Well, here it is. I may have gone overboard with the length and the references in this one.

I assure you that any peripheral interests of mine that have migrated into the story—mahjong, chess, soccer(I don't even like soccer)—will remain peripheral.

Here's the character reference sheet I created on request.

If this is no longer the most current chapter, be advised that there might be spoilers:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1wcNvbV-BaIUMuBZb2DTjOxJ31Ou6UQkQBf6FJZAaNso/edit?usp=sharing

Chapter 29 Author's Note

Sorry for the delay! I found this chapter challenging for whatever reason.

I also want to go on the record in saying that I didn't intentionally insert any politics into this chapter. When I failed, though, I tried to choose innocuous issues that wouldn't reflect my true beliefs, or just respect that there's debate to be had. If I was unsuccessful, I apologize.

Chapter 29

For some reason, I found it hard to get back to sleep following the blue smoke monster nightmare. The chase hadn’t been particularly scary, but what had followed after was worse than anything the brown dream stallion had shown me. Pondering it, I recalled that he had been in the dream as well. I also got the vague sense that he had been populating a lot of my forgotten dreams.

In any case, waking up so early was to my advantage, as I needed to make it back to the castle for my Career Day experience. Jill and her company knew that I was to leave early, but I had intended on getting at least a few more hours of sleep first. Still, it worked out as I wanted time to have breakfast at the castle first. Missing out on any more thank-you hugs from Jill’s mom was just an added bonus.

When I came to the door, I discovered to my chagrin that the lock was at the height of an adult mare. Cursing my size, I borrowed a footrest from the den area to use as a stepstool. And after a clumsy minute of fumbling with the chain lock, I finally got it open.

I had opened the door just a crack when my ears suddenly perked up. I turned to face the source of the noise—Iron Jill.

“It was nothing you did,” I explained, defensive. “I just figured I may as well head back if I won’t be able to get to sleep anyway.”

Jill shook her head. “I’m not objecting at all. I just wanted to thank you.”

I shrugged. “I guess. But it’s Star who flew all around Canterlot to get those invitations out. If you want to thank anypony you should probably thank her.”

“I disagree,” Jill said. “Though I still would appreciate it if you would pass my thanks along to her too. The way I see it, the only reason Stardust and Style came was because of you. And that’s not the only thing. You also helped them see that I wasn’t scary and encouraged me to be myself around them. I know yesterday was just a flash in the pan—a mirage of sorts— but I’m still thankful for it. I mean, it actually felt like I had friends for once, and I’ll never forget it.”

With impeccable timing, Stardust and Style tiphooved into the room.

“What do you mean a mirage?” Style asked.

“Yeah, I enjoyed it,” Stardust insisted. “You play a mean game of mahjong, Jill. Besides, your hospitality was wonderful.”

“You—you’re just being nice,” Jill said, shaking her head. “It’s not like we’re actually friends now, right? I know you want to be polite, but making friends isn’t that simple.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Style asked.

“Well… umm…. It’s never been easy before, so I’d be a fool to think you two would want to be my friends now.”

“Well, I can’t speak for you or Style, but I want to be friends,” said Stardust.

Jill froze. “You do?”

“Sure thing!” Stardust said. ‘I do have to admit I was afraid of you at first, but River showed us that you’re not so different from any other filly.”

Jill had tears of happiness in her eyes. “I—I don’t know what to say. Thank you! Thank you!”

Without warning she pulled all three of us into a bear hug.

“Jill… too tight…”

“Can’t… breathe…”

Blushing, she let us go and murmured an apology.

“Correction: she may be stronger than any other filly, but my point still stands,” Stardust said through a mild coughing fit.

“I’m happy for you, Jill,” I said as she opened the door for me. “See you at school.”

“Take care, River,” Stardust said.

“Bye, River,” Style said.

“Now, Jill, might you be interested in joining—”

Stopping the door abruptly with my back hoof, I slipped back into the room with haste. “Stardust, don’t tell me you were just buttering her up for the AAA?”

“Don’t be silly. I would never do that!” She protested. “I did have a good time and I still want to be her friend. I just thought it would be a good fit.”

“AAA?” Jill asked confused.

“It’s this thing we’re trying to organize to oppose Annuity. If we can get most of the class to stand united against her, the theory is she won’t be able to bully anypony anymore.”

“I’d love to be included,” Jill said. “I don’t see why you had reservations about them bringing it up, River.”

“Well, these two have been fairly aggressive in pitching it…” I explained warily.

Stardust’s ears drooped slightly. “Yeah, I guess I have gotten a little carried away, haven’t I? Sorry…”

“It’s just something to be aware of,” I offered. “Anyhow I’d better get going.”

“Bye, River. Thanks for inviting us,” Style called after me.

Stardust said something as well, but the heavy door had already slammed shut behind me.

As soon as I hopped down the last step to return to ground level, Star Chart joined me.

“Have fun?” she asked

“Not really,” I confessed. “Most of the time was me trying to help Jill’s party actually be enjoyable for her.”

“You did good, Alice,” Star praised as she lightly stroked me with her wing. “I’m sure your good deed will come back around pretty soon.”

I opted to change the subject: “Jill wanted to thank you as well for sending out those invitations.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said, smiling. “Bulwark was real disappointed that she couldn’t come, though. While the other two did take some persuading, they were more than happy to come.”

I nodded idly before something dawned on me.

“Let me guess: you mentioned the AAA?”

Stardust smiled. “I may have had to mention it.”

“Figures,” I said.

“You don’t sound too enthused about it,” Star noted.

“It’s just that I don’t think it will work. I mean, we can gather a bunch of ponies, taurs and griffins who don’t like Annuity, but it’s not like we can fight her or anything. And even if we eventually outnumber her group of friends, it won’t change the fact that Fizzle loves her.”

“Good points,” Star admitted, “but I still think making a group of friends can’t be all bad.”

“I guess, but I won’t l believe it until something other than disliking Annuity brings us together.”

Star nodded. “There is a certain risk to having been united by something negative.”

“Oh? I thought you’d be all for me having tons of friends,” I challenged facetiously.

“It’s the old dilemma of becoming that which you oppose: if you’re not careful, you may become the ones who are bullying her.”

I laughed. “That’s never going to happen.” I then scrutinized Star’s expression more carefully and found that she was being completely serious. I considered commenting that she would deserve it, but I doubted ponies would be receptive to an eye for an eye mentality.

“Having more friends is great, but to maintain a group of them, you need something in common,” Star continued.

“I think Beakington said the same thing,” I noted.

The conversation ended there, and we were silent for the next half a block.

“So, Star, I’ve been wondering…” I began.

“Hmm?” she responded.

“Do you even sleep? I mean, aside from the day you took off, you’ve been at my side or hanging around in the vicinity constantly. And despite it being four in the morning, you were ready to escort me home.”

Star laughed. “I appreciate that it gives me a mysterious aura of sorts, but there’s a stallion by the name of Midnight Oil who watches you in my stead while I’m sleeping. He also takes over for me during school hours.”

“Oh, well that makes sense,” I said, somewhat underwhelmed by the mundane explanation. “Any reason why haven’t I met him yet?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t like him,” Star Chart said playfully. “He’s a total stiff—no sense of humor whatsoever. And he basically sees you as cargo he needs to watch over.”

“So ponies like that do exist,” I marvelled. “I thought most of the guard was like Trusty.”

“Cut him some slack; he’s still relatively new,” Star said. “There’s still plenty of room for him to learn on the job.”

“Where I’m from, learning on the job would mean you’re a liability at best and cannon fodder at worst,” I mused.

“Maybe, but I’m sure you’ve noticed that Equestria is more forgiving, which I think is a good thing overall.”

“I don’t know,” I replied as I pondered it. “Without adversity, nothing will demand growth and adaptation.”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that before. You know, you’re pretty smart, Alice.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I mean it. I’m not trying to praise you like a foal; it’s that I’m impressed with the depth of your personality. Between your kindness towards Bulwark, your compassion for Cake Slice, and helping Jill make friends, you’re proving yourself to be a caring, well-rounded pony.”

Dismayed by this praise, a cynical thought occurred to me. “Or Equestria could be making me into more of a pony. Those things you listed even surprised me. I’m not sure if my feelings are even native to me anymore.”

“Give yourself more credit,” Star said, nudging me in the barrel. “Ponies aren’t always nice. Take that Annuity filly for instance.”

“I guess,” I said, hoping to end the conversation. Still, worry about my own free will persisted, so I tried to change the subject. “So what should I expect from Career Day?”

“Truth be told, I don’t know what Princess Celestia has planned. What I can say is I always found it fun back when I was a filly.” She regarded me with a smile. “You’re in for a treat. I know Princess Celestia is going to go all-out.”

I was one of the first ones in the kitchen when it opened that morning. I asked for some porridge and sleepily ate it. When I had started to zone out, Trusty jolted me awake with a tap from behind. I shook my head in disbelief. This was not like me at all.

“So, what’s new?” I asked the stallion, hoping any sort of conversation would help bring me back to attention.

“Oh, not much,” Trusty said, yawning. “Keeping up with Pink Diamond takes a lot of energy. As much as I like her, I’m kind of relieved to have a day off of sorts.”

“I can understand why,” I said. “So has that taken over your normal guard duties?”

“Not quite,” Trusty said, mixing some cream into his coffee. “Though I have been reassigned. I now help plan and supervise the weekend outings for the exchange students. Come to think of it, you weren’t with us this past Saturday.”

“Oh,” I said, troubled. I had completely forgotten that these weekend outings were a thing. I made a mental note to thank Celestia for not insisting I go. Then again, she had probably exempted me in view of my multiple sleepovers.

“This weekend we’ll be heading to see Canterlot’s weather factory. I hope you’ll be able to join us,” Trusty prompted.

“That—that actually doesn’t sound terrible,” I admitted.

Trusty’s ears drooped. “Why would it be terrible?”

“I don’t know. I just kind of assumed any activities other foals might enjoy would be a pain for me.”

Trusty paused to think, and after a few seconds, something seemed to dawn on him.

“That’s right. I keep having to remind myself that you’re not a regular foal.”

This might have bothered me normally, but I had enough on my mind as it stood.

“So should I sign you up?” Trusty asked.

“Y—wait a second. I just remember I might do that soccer thing with Squirt, so I don’t know.”

“Soccer thing?”

“Long story,” I said dismissively.

“Well, in any case, you’re welcome to come. We leave at the crack of dawn.”

“Noted.”

“You’re going to love today,” Trusty added. “I helped Celestia plan it. Maybe I’m not experienced enough to be a role model myself, but I’ll at least be able to contribute to career day this way. Are you excited?”

“I’m sure that I’m not as excited as Pink Diamond,” I replied, dodging the question.

Trusty laughed.

“That one is a bit over eager, but she always has a pep in her step. I can tell the ponies around her appreciate it.”

I crossed my forelegs and considered my words. “I can’t really speak for other ponies, but for me, I think she’s best dealt with in small doses.”

“I really like her, but I’d be lying if I said she didn’t wear me out a bit,” Trusty admitted.

From there, the conversation died off, and I cleared my dishes and excused myself. Returning to my room, I decided to lie down on top of the comforter and take a short nap. I briefly wondered to myself if Celestia would come looking for me if I overslept, but then again, I had some confidence in my internal alarm clock. Unfortunately, said alarm bells went off in my head before I was even able to get back to sleep. Sighing, I hopped out of bed and dragged my feet into the hallway.

It then occurred to me that I had no idea where to go, but I caught sight of New Moon and followed her, figuring she knew what I didn’t. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I ended up outside the throne room with Trusty, Star and a gaggle of other foals. There was a murmur of excited conversation, with Pink Diamond easily the loudest.

I walked up to Star to try and engage her, but she seemed to be projecting an aura of professionalism that made me reluctant to distract her from her door-guarding duties.

What now? Do I wait to get pulled into the gravity of one of these conversation groups?

On one hoof, it would be worrying if I found socializing with foals increasingly easy, but at the same time, I didn’t want to stand around awkwardly by myself.

A larger blue pegasus colt with white spots seemed to take notice of me and closed the distance between us.

“Ponjour, my filly. I am Mix-Up. I come from Prance. How are you?”

I was reminded of Beakington for a second as I tried to extract what the colt was saying from his accent. It then occurred to me that there was something to the comparison, as Beakington had mistaken me for a filly as well. Although, in this pegasus’s case, he was correct.

“Umm hi,” I said weakly. “I’m River Glade. I’m from Neighbraska.”

“Izzit far from here?”

“Oh, I’m not sure. I—uh… I’m not good at geography,” I offered. After a brief bit of thought, I concluded I probably needed to shore up my knowledge of my fictional home at some point. Then again, I couldn’t come up with a better idea of what this would look like—aside from a tsunami of Twilight-approved reading that is.

“Ah, anuzzer pony I don’t know. Ponjour, I am Mix-Up.”

“Oh, hi…” Cake Slice weakly said as she joined us.

“Hello, Cake. Any idea what we’re in for today?”

“I don’t know, but when I asked the princess last night, she told me she had rearranged her schedule for today to best give us a sample of her day-to-day.”

“Zat is great,” Mix-Up said. “I live far away, so zis is a fine opportunity for me.”

While formulating my response, I noticed that Cake was almost jittery. She was shuffling her hooves and appeared as if she was holding back the impulse to start hopping in place.

“Oh! I’ve always wanted to see Celestia govern. And I wouldn’t have dreamed that the opportunity would come so soon. I can’t wait!”

Impulse won out after all and she bounced, complete with spoinging sound effect.

Upon her landing, Trusty and Star opened the double doors and Celestia appeared to greet her adoring public. The fillies and colts began to cheer.

“Hello, my little ponies. Are you ready for Career Day?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Pink Diamond cheered, louder than anypony else.

“Well then, follow me.”

More cheers erupted as we twelve mini-ponies formed two lines to march behind her.

There were two guards I didn’t recognize at the side of Celestia’s throne. However, much more prominent were the twelve colorful cushions surrounding the throne. They were spread into four groups of three, and each group had a foal-sized table with one of the princesses’ cutie marks taped on them.

“For today, I decided to divide the twelve of you into four teams. You will be able to discuss today’s issues amongst your groups, and then I will ask for each group’s opinion in turn. First up is team Twilight, which will be Hail Stone, Mix-Up and Cake Slice.”

The three of them trotted to the front of the group and took their seats. Hail Stone, a chubby pegasus colt, initiated some small-talk with his groupmates. Mix-up, apparently still learning Equish needed some words repeated, while Cake Slice seemed a mite uncomfortable being the only filly in the group.

“Now for team Cadance,” said Celestia. “It will be Perfect Cover, New Moon and Noble Truth.”

“Hmm, I would’ve thought I would be on team Cadance,” Pink Diamond said. “Not that I’m complaining. If I’m lucky, I may be on team Celestia!”

It doesn’t matter! I thought for myself, fighting the urge to tell her such.

“Team Luna is next,” Celestia said. “It’s Pink Diamond, Monocle and River Glade.”

In truth, I was not surprised. Having to soak up Pink Diamond’s enthusiasm all day seemed like a virtual inevitability. At least the filly named Monocle sat in the middle, so I’d have something of a buffer.

“As for Team Me, I think you know who you are,” Celestia said, shepherding the remaining ponies to the far right table. “Now, I thought it would be prudent to start out with a bit of a civics refresher. First, can anypony tell me what the traditional four branches of Equestrian government.”

“Ohh! Ohh! Pick me! Pick me!” Pink Diamond shouted, earning a few weird looks.

Celestia chuckled. “Yes, Pink Diamond?”

“They are the activism of ordinary citizens, the House of Ponies here in Canterlot, the militia—like guardsponies and policeponies—and the justice system.”

“Very good. Five points for team Luna,” Celestia praised. “But notice that there’s nothing about the princesses in that breakdown. So where do we fit in?”

The same hoof shot up.

Celestia smiled. “Is there anypony besides Pink DIamond who knows?”

She scanned the assembled exchange ponies, lingering on me slightly. I momentarily panicked, realizing that I didn’t know.

“Rough Rider, what do you think?” she prompted.

“Do the princesses control the four branches?” the earth pony colt tried.

Celestia smiled patiently. “Close, but not quite. Yours is a common misconception. You are correct in that the princesses have influence over the four branches; however, we usually do not get the final say. Rather, the princesses can make sure each branch works within its limits and in harmony with the others. For example, we can hear petitioners raise issues and pass these concerns on to the House of Ponies. It’s only when we act within the justice system that we can actually decide policy ourselves. In that vein, we have the option of hearing cases ourselves as a form of final arbitration. Even so, we don’t avail ourselves of this option very often. Why is that?”

“Uhh… I have no idea,” Rough Rider said, suddenly bashful.

“No problem,” Celestia said reassuringly. “Is there anypony else who knows?”

Not even Pink Diamond raised her hoof this time. Celestia patiently waited for somepony to step up. To my surprise, Cake Slice volunteered. Celestia called on her, smiling at the filly’s bravery.

“I’m not sure. It might be a stupid guess, but I have an idea…” Cake stammered.

“Go on,” Celestia encouraged. “Right or wrong I can’t wait to hear what you think.”

“Okay. Umm… is it because you want to keep it special?”

Celestia cocked her head to the side. “Keep going. I want to make sure I understand your perspective.”

“Well—I… if you decided things all the time it wouldn’t be as special. Just like if—you see, one of my teachers said that if you have lots of rules you will have more rulebreakers, but if you have one or two they’ll be easier to follow. I—I don’t really know. Now I’m just rambling.” Cake hung her head.

Celestia beamed. “You are absolutely correct, my little pony. We seldom decide cases because we want the rules we decide to hold firm. In limiting ourselves we in effect maintain the legitimacy of our power by making sure any decision is well-thought-out. Fifteen points for team Twilight.”

“Umm,” Hail Stone intoned nervously. “What are the points for?”

“They are completely arbitrary and meaningless,” Celestia explained capriciously. “So are we ready for our first petitioner?”

Everypony cheered.

“All right. Who do we have first?” Celestia asked.

“Ambassadors Steel Pact and Harpynn are here to discuss an extension of the guest contractor program,” Star announced.

On cue, my two nonpony classmates entered with their moms. Jill was in the frilliest pink dress imaginable, while Beakington was in a full tuxedo, which looked fairly strange on a griffin. Harpynn was a bit on the older side with a greener hue than her son. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but her feathered face had an unmistakable feminine quality to it.

Steel Pact stepped in front of Celestia and genuflected. “Princess,” she greeted with professionalism before a wide smile overtook her. “Oh my look at all you adorable little ponies! Are you all here for Career Day?”

“Pact, we were notified that there would be exchange students here for career day,” Harpynn scolded.

“Yes, but seeing them all there is just so precious!”

Celestia cleared her throat. “Now I’m aware of the details myself, but for the benefit of my audience, could you give a brief synopsis?”

“Certainly,” Harpynn replied, taking point. “Ten years ago the House of Ponies passed a bill allowing hundreds of griffin and minotaur guest workers to relocate to Equestria in order to fill a need by the Equestrian government for certain skilled laborers. These fields included construction, ironworking, manufacturing, pest control, and carpentry. It also had provisions for talented individuals whose skills would be in demand or not readily available in Equestria. Finally, it provided for seasonal workers during… certain times of year.”

Steel Pact finally had gotten over our cuteness and added, “Yes, this is a mutually beneficial arrangement for both economies. We have recommended that our national legislatures adopt a similar law, expanding beyond the weather ponies that currently live abroad year-round. The law has also had a positive impact on our unemployment rates, and we believe similar benefits will be seen in Equestria.”

Celestia nodded and smiled serenely. After a moment of reciprocating her smile, the ambassadors started to shuffle awkwardly.

“So, what do you think, Princess? Will you recommend that the law be renewed? For both our sakes?”

Celestia smiled even more broadly. “I don’t know. I’ll have to consult… my advisors!”

What advisor—oh…

Pink Diamond sprung to her feet and pumped a hoof.

“All right, everypony. Discuss among yourselves what you think of this proposal,” the princess prompted.

“I think it’s a great idea! I’d like to make friends with more griffins and minotaurs. Like she said, they can do construction, carpentry, and what were the others? I can’t remember! Anyway, I like Beakington and Jill, so the details don’t matter so much. Don’t you think so too, Monocle?” Pink Diamond said, rapidfire.

The turquoise filly seemed like she was thinking it over carefully. “Well, I’m no expert, but I know my parents have criticized similar programs in the past. Umm… your name was Pink Diamond, right?”

“That’s right!” the pink pony answered. “And that’s River Glade. Nice to meet you, Monocle! Anyway, why don’t your parents like minotaurs and griffins moving into Equestria?”

“Well, it’s not that they don’t like minotaurs and griffins. It’s that such laws might put them ahead of ponies.”

“How so?” Diamond asked, patient.

“Well, I’m just repeating what I heard from my parents, but Equestria’s government exists for the benefit of its own citizens. If it clears the way for griffins and minotaurs to come here and get jobs, ponies with cutie marks in related fields might find themselves out of work.”

Pink Diamond’s smile dipped. “I hadn’t thought of that. I guess it’s not a good idea after all…”

“I’m not saying that,” Monocle said, backtracking. “I just wanted to explain why some ponies would be against it. I like griffins and minotaurs just fine. What do you think, River?”

“Oh, me? Hmm...”

My first inclination was to side with Monocle’s parents. Just as Rhod was ours, Equestria was a pony country first and foremost. Still, as I glanced across the room at Beakington and Jill, I felt myself wavering. In a similar manner, our class could have had two extra ponies in their place. But other ponies would be hard-pressed to replace what Beakington and Jill added to the classroom. Then I changed my mind again when I realized that it would be impossible to know what kind of ponies would be in our class if we had those roster spots open.

“All right, I heard some good discussion, but we need to move on,” Celestia announced. “Let’s go group by group here. First up, Team Me, what did you think?”

The two colts and single filly exchanged glances before nodding and letting their chosen leader speak. “We think it makes a lot of sense,” a bronze pegasus colt said. “If there aren’t enough ponies to do these jobs, we can let minotaurs and griffins do them, so it’s good for both parties.”

“Very good,” said Celestia. “Team Cadance, you’re up next.”

This time, New Moon took the lead and voiced essentially the same opinion.

“Team Twilight?” Celestia prompted.

“Oh, ummm… we think it’s a good idea too,” said Cake Slice. It’s like how we’re here and get to enjoy Canterlot because the princess invited us. We think griffins and minotaurs should have the same chance.”

“Good point,” Celestia praised. “Last but not least, Team Luna.”

“We disagreed a little bit, so I’ll just say what I think,” Pink Diamond began. “Although, I think it’s a good idea like everypony else said. But Monocle—”

“Me too!” Monocle cut in. “I have no problem with minotaurs and griffins.”

“Sounds like a consensus to me,” Celestia mused. “Unless… do you disagree, River?”

I looked around and say everyone’s eyes on me. There was a familiar pressure to take the path of least resistance and defer to the collective wisdom of the group. Though somehow, I also felt a competing force which pushed me to buck the groupthink. I couldn’t explain it, but it felt similar to unrest from leaving the bed unmade or my homework undone. Moving on without fully considering the problem felt like negligence.

After a few seconds spent grappling with these thoughts, I reached a decision.

“I don’t know, Princess,” I confessed. “The points the others made are valid, but they don’t seem like the whole story. In fact, Monocle said something that made me consider some possibly negative consequences. Why don’t you tell them, Monocle?”

Monocle blushed and seemed to shrink in her seat.

“I would love to hear your ideas, Monocle,” Celestia said with interest.

“I—I don’t disagree with this proposal,” Monocle insisted, looking over the ambassadors, Beakington, and Jill.”

“We know, my little pony. But counterpoints are very important for princesses. We have to consider all the consequences that our decisions might have. Not everything is clear-cut in its impact,” Celestia explained.

“Okay…” Monocle took a breath and explained to the room what her parents thought. Celestia and the ambassadors listened carefully to her secondhand argument.

“So you yourself aren’t convinced by this, but River seems to be?”

“Yes, but I can’t speak for her,” Monocle replied.

I momentarily got goosebumps at Monocle calling me ‘her,’ but I exhaled in relief upon remembering that both Beakington and Jill already knew.

“I mean, it has to depend on the specifics,” I said upon realizing Celestia was waiting for me. “If ponies were consistently put out of work by this, it probably wouldn’t make sense. While similarly, if there is a shortage of skilled workers in certain areas, it could be clearly the best decision. I apologize for not having a more direct answer, but I think the specifics of the policy should dictate whether it continues.”

As I took note of Quick Script recording every word, I made a point to better articulate my ideas.

“Ambassadors, do you have anything to say in response?” Celestia asked.

Steel Pact took a step forward. “We can’t guarantee that no ponies will lose jobs over this policy. However, we have crafted our proposal to try and minimize this. Meanwhile, the symbolic importance in the friendship of our nations and economic benefits cannot be ignored.”

Silence hung on the air for a few brief moments. I didn’t know if it was a power play by Celestia, but it certainly seemed to cause the ambassadors some consternation.

“Very good,” Celestia finally said. “I’ll read your proposal and give my opinion to the House of Ponies. However, all you needed to prove was that there is meaningful debate to be had over this policy. The legislators will have to do their thing. Thank you, ambassadors.”

They bowed.

“Thank you too, junior ambassadors,” Celestia said playfully. The children bowed and followed their parents out.

“Okay then, who’s next?” The princess asked.

“Penny Pincher is here to discuss some funding issues.”

Although Pink Diamond and Monocle’s reverence for the Princess kept them engaged, I personally found it hard to pay attention. Penny Pincher was basically in charge of keeping track of the princesses’ expenses. Apparently they had to foot a pretty big bill for that Grand Galloping Gala thing I had elected to skip. Celestia stopped at various points to explain what role the princesses played in finances. Apparently it was normally the militia branch that dealt with funding. Specifically, whoever was in charge of the policeponies in each region was responsible for requesting funds for his or her area and distributing them. However, with respect to Canterlot, the princesses directly handled all funding issues.

I started to settle in when some of the details came to the forefront. Of particular interest, Celestia increased funding for the Junior Royal Guards. I wanted to believe that I had nothing to do with this decision, but I wasn’t too hopeful.

Just when I thought it was over, though, Celestia had an open session where anypony could come in and make budgeting suggestions. Only a single pony entered the room this time. She was an black-maned, blue earth pony mare named Serene Growth. She entered the room silently and bowed.

“Now, everypony, this is where ponies can make suggestions for our allotment of funding. However, it is not the only way to do so. Letters sent to us will also be considered. The rule of thumb is each letter is equivalent to about five-hundred ponies feeling the same way. Double that for direct petitioners,” Celestia explained. “So, what do you have for me?”

“Princess, I represent Under My Wing, Equestria’s largest organization for helping young ponies find apprenticeships. Over the last year alone we helped over five-thousand ponies take the first step into new careers. While our success has been great, there are certain fields that have proven extremely difficult due to dwindling numbers of potential masters. For this reason we humbly request a grant, which will be used entirely as incentive for skilled practitioners to take on apprentices.”

Celestia smiled, revealing nothing. “Okay everypony, discuss this proposal amongst yourselves.”

“This sounds fantastic! It will help young ponies like ourselves grow into positions. Don’t you think so, Monocle?” Pink Diamond asked.

“Well, I…”

Pink Diamond smiled at her.

“Yes, I do think that’s a good use of funding.”

She flashed me the same look, clearly fishing for validation.

“I don’t know,” I said. “All things equal, a lot of things would benefit from more funding, but I know if you give more resources to one area, you have to cut somewhere else.”

Monocle nodded. “Yeah, she’s right,” Monocle said. “But I think it still deserves more funding.”

Celestia went around the room again, calling on our group last. When prompted, the three of us were divided once again. Pink Diamond praised the idea, but I couldn’t conceive of giving the mare carte blanche.

“Can I ask a question?” I asked, once Pink Diamond had finished a litany of positive benefits.

“Yes, River. Go ahead.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Ms. Serene Growth. Your program sounds good, but where do you propose the funding come from.”

“Pardon?” the mare said.

“Yes, it is a good question,” Celestia asked. “I normally ask it myself. Nothing is ever truly free.”

Serene retreated a few paces before recomposing herself. “Oh, yes. I did do some thinking about this matter. I know you might hear this a lot, but there are multiple government operations that run at a budget surplus. For example, you could cut the Department of Animal Relations—they almost never use their whole budget.”

Surprisingly, Celestia looked at me. “Since you brought this up, River, what do you think of cutting the animal relations department?”

I recoiled a bit at the direct attention. “Uhh… that’s what Fluttershy does, right?”

Celestia’s looked at me expectantly. “It is.”

“Well, I don’t want to be influenced by having someone I know with a stake in this matter, but I don’t think that you should be penalized just because you don’t use all of your resources. At worse, that would encourage wasteful spending, if cutting funding off became the prescribed punishment.”

The petitioner mare’s ears began to droop. Celestia picked up on this immediately, though. “Thank you for coming in today. Your request was by no means unwelcome. I will take all of this in consideration and let you know.

Serene perked up slightly. “Thank you, Princess.”

“Okay, my little apprentices, next up is another scheduled petitioner with a funding suggestion. I’m not quite sure what she wants, so let’s give her a warm welcome.”

Star and Trusty opened the double-doors and a gray-maned, white pegasus came into the room. She had a cutie mark of a moon obscured by a cloud.

Celestia smiled warmly. “What can I do for you today?”

“Good day, Your Highness. I come today for a funding manner. Specifically, a bridge.”

Celestia’s features sunk, making her unflinching smile look misplaced.

“This project will put millions of bits into the construction industry, facilitate the shipping of Bridleton produce, and help put the Grand Geysers of Calamitous Chasm on the map!”

“Ungh… Luna,” Celestia said through a groan.

Illusion spell dispelled, Luna laughed heartily. “Oh my, Sister, you should have beheld your countenance. It was GLORIOUS!”

Luna collapsed into another fit of laughter as Celestia rolled her eyes. The exchange students were completely confused, while Quick Script’s scratching seemed amplified.

“Sorry about that,” Celestia offered. “My sister enjoys pranks sometimes.”

As Luna left, the room slowly reverted back to normal and the guards at the door let in a bearded unicorn stallion.

“Yes, Kickback?”

I could detect a slight trace of perturbation in her voice.

“Princess, I humbly request three million bits for a new stadium in the heart of downtown. Canterlot. This will include two sets of locker rooms for both the Canterlot Nauticals and the Canterlot Brookers, a seating capacity of nineteen thousand, and even a private pool. I believe it will further enhance Canterlot’s reputation for high-class entertainment.”

“You’re the owner of these sports franchises, correct?” Celestia asked.

“Of the Brookers I am, yes,” he answered.

“And do you think taxpayers should fund your stadium?”

“I do. It will enhance the desirability of the city and be a boon to nearby businesses.”

“And will the city recuperate its investment through the event hosting fees?”

“No, I will keep that.”

“And will the city collect a portion of the stadium’s franchising fees?”

“Actually, I will keep all of it. But think: I can invest all of that back into the city!”

“Everypony, what do you think?” Celestia prompted.

All three of us on team Luna locked eyes.

“No!” all twelve foals shouted at once.

“That will be my answer as well, unless you can prove it will benefit anypony but you,” said Celestia.

“But, Princess, you are forgetting the intangible benefits. The revenue it would create nearby! The identity of the city! Your investment will be recuperated, it just won’t be obvious.”

“Can you prove any of these benefits?” Celestia asked, pressing on with the interrogation.

“Well, no…” he mumbled.

“That’s my answer as well. Good day.”

“Princess, you are forgetting that if we don’t get this stadium I may have to consider moving the Brookers elsewhere, where ponies may be more generous in their support of local sports.”

Celestia stared him down. “So you’re threatening us?”

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” Kickback said weakly.

“You actually think I’d believe you’d move the league’s most famous hoofball franchise with its tens of thousands of fans elsewhere over a stadium?”

“You never know…” Kickback offered.

“Let me make this clear: the treasury is not your bank,” Celestia scolded. “Next!”

Hanging his head, the stallion limped out of the throne room.

“Well, that was easy,” Monocle said, chuckling.

“That it was, Monocle,” Celestia agreed. “That it was.”

For the next leg of the day, more discussion of recently passed laws was on the agenda.

A superintendent came to see Celestia with his proposal to synchronize the curricula of Canterlot’s major school districts. He suggested that doing so would ensure that all foals would receive the same basic regimen. Pink Diamond was all for it, but Monocle pointed out that it would probably most serve to benefit the textbook publishing industry. This time, Monocle didn’t need prompting to share this. The superintendent didn’t deny it, which said a lot.

From there, we took a lunch break and Celestia distributed a dozen box lunches. To everyone’s pleasure, the castle’s kitchen staff had made each foal’s favorites. In my case, I got a box filled with fruits and vegetable along with a piece of apple pie.

When the break had ended, I was surprised to see the next petitioners were Squirt and his mother.

Is Annuity next? How many more of my classmates is she going to wheel in here?

“Hello, Table Top. I understand you’re here to request a recent law be reviewed.”

“That I am, Princess,” Table replied.

“Which law is that?” Celestia asked, clearly for our benefit.

“It’s the noneducational game tax, Bill 3120317,” Squirt explained. “It’s a proposed tax on games targeted towards older foals, such as tabletop games and card games, as opposed to games that serve as learning aids. What makes this especially egregious is that family games, even if they have no educational content whatsoever are exempt. Clearly this law is poorly thought-out and inconsistent with its goals.”

“Spoken with zest, young one.” Celestia said warmly.

Squirt nodded, rising to the occasion with his cool composure.

“We realize the good intention behind the law,” Table Top conceded. “We get it that the hope is to encourage young foals to spend their allowances on games that foster learning. However, we feel this hurts our part of the gaming industry unnecessarily. I think the same thing could be accomplished by a subsidy for educational games. Granted this would be at a cost to the government as opposed to raising revenue, but I can’t imagine it would be expensive by any means.”

Squirt took a step forward. “More importantly, I think it’s based on a false dichotomy. Just because the games I enjoy aren’t educational by nature doesn’t mean they’re devoid of opportunities to learn. For instance, math is essential to games such as Ogres and Oubliettes. And besides, games of strategy encourage planning and critical thinking skills. I don’t think this is so hard to accept, since many ponies have their foals play chess for similar reasons.”

“Well said,” Celestia praised. “Let’s see what my advisors think, starting with Team Twilight.”

“I agree with him,” Hail Stone said. “I’m not a huge gamer, but I don’t want to pay extra.”

“He was persuasive,” Mix-up agreed.

“Umm… I still think it’s a good idea to promote educational games,” Cake Slice said meekly. When all eyes in the room landed on her she seemed to freeze for a second. “Because educational games aren’t as popular.”

“Thank you for sharing, Cake,” Celestia praised. “Let’s hear from Team Luna next.

“I think ponies should be able to play whatever games they want,” Pink Diamond said.

“Me too,” said Monocle.

Weighing the silence for a few moments, Celestia then pointed to me. “River, do you agree?”

“I think so,” I said. “Granted, I played some of these taxed games with Squirt so that may be influencing me, but even so, I still think the tax is unfair.”

After hearing from the other two teams, who mostly just agreed, Celestia looked back at the petitioners. “Thank you. I will take your comments in consideration. Since there’s a debate to be had, I’ll almost certainly have the House of Ponies reconsider the law.”

Squirt’s mom bowed and Squirt awkwardly imitated her. I had to wonder if Celestia had arranged for my classmates to be present on purpose. EIther way, it helped me to keep interest in the matters presented.

I felt a squirming sensation. It was subtle at first, so I didn’t immediately recognize it, but then it started to tickle my foreleg. I looked down and saw a medium-sized lizard crawling on me.

“Gah!” I shrieked, lightly shaking the affected leg.

“Igloo, what did I tell you about crawling on other ponies?” Monocle scolded. “Say you’re sorry.”

The blue-striped lizard stared me down. I had to wonder if this was because of how I shook him off, or if it was another case of animals just not liking me.

“That’s so cool!” Pink Diamond shouted. “Is that your pet?”

“Yes,” Monocle said, “this is Igloo. I’ve had him for two years. He’s really smart. He mostly hangs out on my withers or in my mane, but sometimes he gets a little adventurous. Sorry about that, River.”

“Oh, no problem,” I assured her, even though it had been a somewhat unpleasant surprise. And it still amazed me how smart animals were in Equestria.

“Okay, now that our break is over, let me set the stage for the next set of petitioners. As you all know, we the princesses can serve as the final judges on cases that have nationwide repercussions. Believe it or not, I’ve been hearing arguments from these two ponies for over five years.”

“Really!? Five years!?” Pink Diamond exclaimed in disbelief.

“It’s true. It seems that these two ponies just can’t stop feuding over intellectual property matters,” Celestia explained. “First, Rose Tea created a special pizza sauce, but lost the recipe one day while in town. Donut Dawn picked it up and began using it, despite it being marked confidential. I ruled in favor of Rose Tea, because her sauce was a protected trade secret.”

I looked around the room and some of the foals’ eyes were already glazed over.

“Then, Rose Tea invented a new pizza-making machine. In her patent, she claimed a method for making pizza comprising the step of mixing the pizza briskly with a magical mixing apparatus. I decided that these descriptors were indefinite and if the patent was corrected, Donut Dawn would have intervening rights.”

“Umm… what’s a patent?” Pink Diamond asked.

Celestia smiled. “Good question. When somepony invents something useful, the temptation may be to keep it a secret. So if, Rose Tea kept her pizza-making machine secret, only she would be able to use it. However, if inventors kept their inventions secret all the time, Equestria would lose out on innovation. That’s why we have patents, which are a compromise. A patent basically says that only the pony who invented something can make or use the invention, though it only lasts for a limited time. So it’s a trade of sorts: the inventor still gets the advantage of being first, but in exchange, Equestria will learn about the invention, which can in turn can allow further innovation.”

Pink Diamond still looked confused. I was only able to make sense of it because I had learned in school on Rhod that patents had mostly ceased to exist on my homeworld because our focus was mostly re-inventing old technology.

“Next, Rose Tea and Donut Dawn came up with nearly identical jingles to advertise their respective restaurants. Donut Dawn insisted that Mrs. Tea copied the jingle, but since he couldn’t prove actual copying, nor that she ever had access to the jingle, I concluded that they were created independently. And today, well, I’ll let them explain it.”

Trusty and Star opened the doors once more, and a unicorn mare and an earth pony stallion slowly trotted in. Each was pulling a cart with what looked like a giant mixing bowl and a robot arm. All the way up to the throne, the two of them glared at each other.

“Hello again,” Celestia greeted. “I hear you have a trademark issue for me today.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” said Rose Tea. “I opened a restaurant called Pizza Spinners in downtown Canterlot this Spring. And not two months later, this thief has the gall to open a restaurant called Spinners’ Pizza.”

“Do you agree with this account of events?” Celestia asked the stallion.

“I don’t deny that I happened to open a restaurant with a similar name. And if I opened a restaurant in Canterlot that would be one matter. But since my restaurant is in Fillydelphia, it is highly unlikely I am actually costing her any customers.”

“But what if I want to expand to Fillydelphia!?” Rose stated emphatically. “I won’t be able to capitalize on my success and move into a new market because of this squatter!”

“It doesn’t matter!” the stallion shouted back. “I was in Fillydelphia first!”

“Ahem…” Celestia articulated, silencing their bickering. “I would appreciate it if we could approach this methodically.”

“Of course, Princess,” the stallion said.

“Sorry,” said the mare.

If the others had been bored by the initial dispute, this was nothing compared to how tedious they found the details that unfolded over the next two hours. After their patent case had ended a while back, both parties had tried to turn their local restaurants into chains, using the pizza-making machine Rose had originally invented. They both endeavored to expand beyond their localities, and in Baltimare, Rose Tea was only a few days behind Donut. Now, they were suing each other for trademark infringement, Rose Tea on the grounds that she came up with the name first, and Donut Dawn because he was first to Baltimare. I followed along closely, interested in how the princess would handle this dispute.

“Any questions?” Celestia asked us, scanning the four teams.

Most ponies were shaking their heads. Celestia seemed to linger on me.

Feeling pressured, I decided there was something I was wondering. “Yes. Mr. Donut,” I began. “How did you come up with the name for your pizza restaurant?”

Celestia smiled.

“Umm…. my great-aunt was a weaver, and I thought I’d pay homage to her antique spinning wheel with the name.”

“Liar!” Rose shouted. “You steal my invention and now you steal my name! It can hardly be a coincidence!”

“River raises a good point, and it plays directly into my verdict. Henceforth, unregistered trademarks will depend on a first-come first-serve basis by region. In this case, each restaurant has been established in their respective areas and gained brand name recognition in their respective customer bases. However, the second to adopt the trademark must have chosen it without any malicious intentions,” Celestia commanded.

I saw the stallion swallow hard.

“Case closed,” Celestia decreed.

The mare was clearly perturbed, but she chose to say nothing.

“Although, I have to wonder: why did you wheel those machines in?” Celestia asked.

“Excellent question, Princess. It turns out that I patented a new improvement for the pizza-making machine. And she copied it with impunity.”

“It was my invention originally! What gives you the right to patent an improvement!?” Rose yelled, enraged.

“Ahem,” Celestia began. “While that dispute certainly has merit, I will only hear one case per session. You will have to book another time if you want me to settle this dispute.”

Rose pumped a hoof.

“Oh… I guess that’s fair,” Donut said meekly.

“Although, we do have a dozen little ponies who haven’t eaten dinner yet. I suppose I wouldn’t object to a demonstration.”

The exchange ponies cheered.

Clearly recognizing the opportunity to curry favor, the two petitioners quickly agreed. After tossing in flour, water, vegetables, cheese and other ingredients, they flipped on the mixers. I was extremely confused that they didn’t start with just making dough.But when I began to actually see something resembling pizza in the mixing bowls, I concluded the device must be able to magically assemble and cook whole pizzas.

“Check out my improvement, Princess,” Donut prompted. “I can increase the mixing speed by twenty percent.” He flipped a switch and the mixer went into overdrive.

“Hmph. Any ordinary engineer could come up with that. It’s hardly worthy of a patent. In fact, I’ve done something even further beyond.”

Her machine revved up.

“That’s not all I have. Watch!” the stallion said defiantly, putting his machine into overdrive.

“Me too!” said Rose.

Being turned up to max, the machines creaked and screeched out of control, eventually upturning the mixing bowls, sending the contents flying. Celestia, Quick Script and the twelve of us were all covered in sauce, cheese and various toppings, turning us into walking pony pizzas. Apparently the dough had stuck to the bottom of the bowls, but we were still a mess.

Pink Diamond giggled as she licked her face.

“I’ll need to have a word with the two of you,” Celestia said ominously.

We never did get that pizza, but I was okay with that. The disappointing part was that Celestia had had to shepherd us to her private bath. Having to accommodate her much larger body, it was huge for us. We could all comfortably fit, relax and scrub one another. Pink Diamond spent ten minutes trying to get the last off the sauce out of my mane, lathering me up good. It turned out there were disadvantages to my longer mane. Still, it made for a strange bonding experience as I scrubbed her up and down as well.

“That was fun! Wouldn’t you say, Cake?”

“Yes, I had a good time,” Cake responded. “Though I didn’t really understand the last case.”

“I know! That was kind of boring, but the rest was so interesting.”

I personally thought the last dispute was the most interesting, though I didn’t say anything. Certainly Donut Dawn and Rose Tea’s bickering got a bit old after a while, but the foundation of what they were discussing remained interesting.

“All right, let’s get everypony dry!” said Celestia as she suddenly grabbed me by the neck and carried me over to the other side of the room. Using her magic she fluffed me and dried me with a towel.

“You had some good input today, River. I was impressed,” she said.

“Really? I thought I was pretty indecisive,” I confessed.

“Not at all. You played the part of a considerate leader.”

“I don’t know what you’re seeing. I can’t lead at all.”

“Well, you prompted Monocle to speak her mind when she was afraid to go against the herd.”

I shook my head. “That was just being diligent. She had some perspective to share.”

“You also were aware of your biases.”

“How so?” I asked, not seeing it at all.

“You were aware that you would want to side with Fluttershy and Squirt. In the latter case, what was even more impressive is that you took a position in spite of your biases.”

“Well yeah, but—”

“What impressed me the most, though, was how interested you were in the last case.”

I shrugged. “It was just interesting. I was curious to see how you would decide the case. I’m also wondering if there’s a way to prevent this in the future, like making a…”

“A registration system for trademarks?”

“Yeah!”

“We have that. It just so happened that Rose Tea didn’t register her trademark.”

“Oh.”

“Like I said, you did really well,” Celestia praised.

“I’m going to stop you before you tell me what a great princess I would be.”

She smiled enigmatically. “I didn’t say that.”

As she continued drying me in silence, I had begun to suspect she was intentionally taking a long time on me. It was comfortable, so I didn’t mind too much. As she finished, I stretched and let out a huge yawn.

“Star said you had trouble sleeping. Any idea why?” Celestia asked.

“I don’t know. I had this weird dream with Pinkie and a blue smoke monster and I couldn’t get back to sleep.”

Celestia’s eyes went wide.

“Uhh… Celestia?”

She grabbed me in her magic and flared her wings. “We have to get you to Ponyville! Now!”

Chapter 30

“Everypony, we must give our utmost effort, as it might be our last chance. I needn’t remind you of the damage the tantabus could inflict on the waking world,” Luna announced as I rode into the room.

“Hello, Princess Luna. Got room for one more?” Star asked as she trotted in. I noticed a bizarre circle of beds laid out in the room, and I used one to hop down from the bowl-shaped saddle Star was wearing.

Honestly, flying as a passenger hadn’t been so bad with the proper equipment. It certainly beat being held precariously between a pegasus’s barrel and the ground below.

“Star… and Alice?” Luna asked, surprised. “What brings you two here?”

Star gestured to me, and I spoke: “Well, last night I had a dream with Pinkie Pie, a test I hadn’t studied for and a blue smoke monster.”

Luna put a hoof to her chin. “I see. I must ask though: Pinkie Pie, why did you not mention Alice was in your dream?”

“Oops, I must have forgotten,” Pinkie giggled to herself. “Between the ice cream social and the cake monster, I forgot the part with Alice.” She bear-hugged me. “Sorry about that, Alice.”

“Are you sure that nopony else was there?”

“Lyra Heartstrings, Filthy RIch, Ditzy Doo, Mr. Davenport, Cheerilee, Scootaloo… Nope, I think everypony in Ponyville covers everypony else.”

“You must be positive,” Luna cautioned. “Anyone you dream of in a tantabus nightmare is vulnerable. It is much like a viral affliction, transferring from one pony to the next. As it does so, it grows more and more powerful. In any case, I am relieved that my sister caught your accidental involvement in this, young Alice. Now, shall we commence?”

“Wait,” I interjected. “A pony from my school was in my dream. I only know what you and Star told me about the tantabus, but wouldn’t she be in danger?”

As much as I disliked Annuity, I wasn’t about to allow a dream monster to invade her mind.

“Was this pony in your dream before or after the tantabus appeared?”

“Before,” I said, wary.

“Then there’s no cause for alarm,” Luna assured me. “When Pinkie’s dreamscape merged with yours, that allowed it through. However, anypony you dreamed of before that point could not be affected as the tantabus would have no conduit through which to invade their dreams.

“That’s good,” I said flatly. Although admittedly, I had harbored secret hopes of Star yanking Annuity out of bed in the middle of the night to bring her here.

“For the second night in a row, at least I know I’m gonna get a good night’s sleep—rotten apples or not,” said Applejack, yawning.

Pinkie popped up from under the covers in Applejack’s bed. “Are you kidding? Another sleepover!? I’m so excited I don’t think I can—”

Pinkie was out cold mid-sentence, beginning to snore the moment her head hit the pillow.

Applejack rolled her eyes while her remaining conscious friends snickered.

“At least that frees up a bed for Alice,” Twilight reasoned, patting it for good measure.

Following her cue, I made a running start and hopped up on the bed.

Star moved to follow me, but Luna caught her.

“Star Chart, you have already done well bringing her here. You may have the night off. I assure you nothing will happen to Alice under my watch.”

Star bowed. “Thank you, Princess.”

“There’s another bedroom three doors down the hall to the left,” said Twilight. “You can spend the night there.”

Star extended her forehooves. “I couldn’t, Princess. That’s okay. I’ll be fine on a cloud,” Star assured Twilight.

The junior princess smiled. “I insist. You’ve been working hard, Star.

“Thank you, Princess Twilight,” Star said after a moment of reluctance, bowing and vanishing around the corner.

“Let us try again then,” Luna commanded. “Turn off the lights.”

Rarity complied, and complete darkness fell on the room, save for the moonlight pouring in from an open window and Luna’s glowing horn. Tendrils of light extending from the alicorn’s horn appeared momentarily, vanishing once they made contact with one of us.

Spike glanced at at me nervously, rubbing his claws together. “So… you’re a filly now?”

I sighed. “Yes, I am.”

Spike looked away briefly before coming up with a determined expression. “This time I’m going to stay up all night watching out for you guys.”

I didn’t get the point of his declaration, but then I realized I didn’t know if Luna had to stay conscious to monitor our dreams.

“Thanks Spike,” said Twilight, causing Spike to get even more pumped.

Despite Luna’s calming presence, there was still a bit of tension we had to fight through to get to sleep. Applejack and Rarity joined Pinkie in slumber relatively quickly, while Rainbow Dash was halfway there. Spike, however, had dozed off within twenty minutes of his bold declaration. Tiphooving over to Spike, Twilight scooped him up onto her back, set him down on her bed and pulled the covers back over the two of them.

Watching the two of them, I felt something unpleasant digging around inside of me. And as I glanced between the young drake and the duo of Pinkie and Applejack, it intensified. The remainder of Twilight’s friends managed to fall asleep over the next couple of minutes. I, meanwhile, grew increasingly restless. This grown-up’s bed suddenly felt too big for me, despite being smaller than what I was used to. Popping up from under the covers, I tried to smooth out some wrinkles in the comforter, but this activity failed to soothe me.

I kept staring as Twilight’s wing softly cradled Spike while he slept peacefully.

Ponyfeathers... I thought to myself.

I knew what I wanted, but I questioned its origin. Was it because I was small? Because I was a child? Or was this another pony thing that had invaded my mind?

It would have been easier to overrule if I were certain it was the latter, but there was something human about the instinct as well. My own mother had certainly been touchy regarding affection. The last time must have been when I was four.

Steeling myself, I took one more glance at Spike and tried to shut out the impulse. This time, however, my eyes met Twilight’s. She was wearing an enigmatic smile.

“Having trouble sleeping?” Twilight asked quietly.

“N—not really,” I whispered in response.

Twilight’s large, curious eyes seemed to radiate warmth as she looked me over. “If you want, I do have another wing.”

I flinched. She had seen right through me.

I expected myself to decline, but the words just wouldn’t come. I couldn’t get over how comfortable Spike looked, and I ultimately couldn’t bring myself to miss out.

Just this once… I thought to myself. Just this once.

And so we cuddled. I got the amazing sensation of being cocooned in a feathery blanket. Moments such as these sometimes made me a smidgen grateful to be a little pony.

I cracked the gigantic plasma screen with a thud after a savage strike. I was momentarily lodged in the crater I had created before I started to tumble downward towards the city streets. Waiting just before impact, I activated my casting seal to break my fall. Pulling myself to my feet, I hunched over, panting. My staff alone kept me from tipping over.

Hurting slightly, I mustered a wild smile. Wings, horn and pony ears aside, it was nice to be mostly human again. And at four foot-two, I felt positively massive. I wasn’t happy to be fighting in a frilly blue fur dress, but even in my dreams, I knew I couldn’t have everything.

“Wahaha! What’s wrong, Lure Blue? Can’t take a hit?”

I grinned, pulling the scrunchy out of my long pink hair. “I just want to let you feel like you have a chance.” I twirled my staff, stopping the motion when the staff’s blue orb was upright. “Come.”

“Lure Blue—or rather, Magical Filly Nifty Alice—you’ve always been a violent one. Why not take a break to hear my evil plan in full?”

I sighed. Apparently dream villains were just as stupid as their Equestrian counterparts.

“Go ahead….” I groaned.

“Haha. When my overhyped next-generation title launches, the salty tears of gamers will flow. Gamebreaking bugs, loot boxes with terrible odds, a huge day one patch that fixes nothing. And by channeling their outrage, I, Saltman Jack, will be the most powerful in the world!”

I raised my voice as I flew up: “As if I won’t pummel your face in first. Nifty Special: Tundra Explosion!”

The wind howled as a chill fell over the city. The wind picked up in intensity as ice crystals began to materialize around my foe, growing to the size of small knives. They hung in the air before all at once, hurtling towards him.

I grinned in triumph and lowered my staff. The mist died down, and Saltman began to cackle.

“Oh, were you expecting that to hurt,” he taunted.

I gasped and froze momentarily. He took advantage of this opening and fired his salt cannon at me. I tried to fly away, but for some reason I forgot I was dependent on my wings for lift( apparently this didn’t apply to him) and I got pinned against the side of a building.

He charged some energy around his fist, beginning to accelerate towards me.

“It’s over!”

I struggled in place to try and break free of my restraints. My dress tore where it was pinned, but escape appeared impossible.

I sighed and closed my eyes. It was a shame to lose out on such a cool dream, but thankfully dying here would do me no harm.

I heard a thwack, yet I felt no pain. Opening my eyes, I beheld a horned girl, much like myself. Somehow this didn’t surprise me in the least.

“Auburn, run! This is my fight.”

The filly smiled back at me, holding off the saltman with her wooden staff.

“Don’t be stubborn, Alice,” the filly said in a high, squeaky voice. “You need me right now, just as much as I need you.”

“Lure Brown, so good of you to show up. But you are too late. Even now, the hidden code I inserted into the programming is deleting hours of progress, and as the players’ anger reaches a fever pitch, my power will reach its zenith! Even two Lures will not be enough to stop me.

“What about three?” a childish voice asked. A second alicorn girl floated up to our height. She appeared to be wearing a teal-tinted maid’s costume, and her caramel mane was in a bun. Her staff had bristles surrounding the orb at its tip. She pulled out the salt grains pinning me to the building and the two of us raised our staves to strike.

“Green Tempest!” the third girl shouted.

“True Blue Strike,” I called out.

Energy encircled our staves, adding an awesome power to our attacks. However, the villain was ready and deflected our attacks with his off-hand salt shaker.

“Foolish filly,” Saltman taunted. “You won’t win many battles announcing your attacks like that. Your sole advantage was the element of surprise, but you squandered that.”

“Noted,” came a cool voice from above. At the same instant, a flaming arrow rained down from above and hit the Saltman square in the head. He screamed as the projectile sent him rushing towards the city streets below.

I looked up, and I smiled at the sight of my sister. She was dressed just as I remembered, albeit with antlers. She had her index finger on the bowstring wrapped around her staff.

“Diane!” said the maid filly.

“Hello House Keeper,” Diane greeted. “Alice, Auburn, good to see you are all right.” Her expression then hardened. “Look out!”

A barrage of high-speed salt grains flew by us as we frantically danced mid-air to get out of the way.

Auburn dove, deflecting projectiles and bashed her weapon against the saltman’s. Her head-on attack did little, but this opened Diane up for another clean shot, which our foe dodged. House and I nodded to one another and jumped into the fray. There was no chance he could hold off all four of us. I grinned. I was going to enjoy this.

I jerked to a stop. House had extended her staff to stop me. Before I could even think to question this, I saw a blue rift open in front of us. A smoky blue tendril reached out from the abyss. A plague of distortion poured out from the wormhole, corrupting our surroundings. I felt my dress vanish as fur once more covered my body. Auburn and House Keeper morphed into mini ponies alsol, with the former sprouting wings as well

Our warped surroundings gradually started to untwist and I recognized the throneroom of Canterlot Castle before the distortion faded.

What is it doing? There’s nothing frightening here.

A tiny crown then appeared on each of our heads, with Diane’s awkwardly sliding down one of her antlers. Auburn laughed.

“Why am I the only one who didn’t become a little pony?” Diane asked.

“Beats me,” I replied. “Probably because you’re normally not a pony. Makes as much sense as anything else around here. Kind of like how you don’t question the fact that you have a sister named Alice in dreamland.”

“I’m blanking, but I have the feeling that this was explained to me before, in another, half-remembered dream… Oh well, I’ll just accept it here: you’re Alice, my sister. And besides, I suppose since this is a dream, I can be a pony too if I want.”

And with that, Diane morphed into a tall pegasus filly, maintaining her antlers. She also kept her characteristic red hair, while her coat was beige. As soon as she finished morphing, Princess Celestia walked into the room. She was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a sun hat.

“All right, junior princesses, I’m leaving Equestria in your hooves. Be yourselves, stay true to your hearts, and I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

House saluted. “Ma’am yes ma’am!”

Celestia smiled before teleporting away. It was a rather quick interaction, but it’s about what I expected.

“I don’t understand. What exactly are we doing?” Diane asked.

“Remember: it’s a dream. Just roll with it,” I assured her.

Two faceless guards appeared at the door, as if materializing as soon as I expected them to be there. They tapped their spears once against the floor, and two familiar ponies came trotting in.

“Ah, Rose Tea and Donut Dawn, good to see you two. I could hazard a guess, but please, tell us why you’re here.”

“Certainly, Princess,” said Tea. “The crux of this issue is that this thief is infringing my patent.”

“Ridiculous!” the stallion replied. “My machine is completely different!”

“Completely different? As if! All you did was make the iron mixing arm out of aluminium. It’s totally the same,” the mare sneered.

“That’s your fault. You included a needless limitation in your patent’s claims. I was smart enough to think outside the box,” said Donut.

“You used no imagination whatsoever; therefore, the doctrine of equivalents should cover the simple substitution of one material for another.”

“It shouldn’t!” the stallion insisted. “Your patent’s claims serve to put the public on notice. How am I supposed to know where your claims begin and end if their boundaries are so malleable.”

“And I say it’s ridiculous for me to be punished for hiring inexperienced counsel,” said Rose Tea.

“Pah. Whatever. I know I’m right,” he said. “Tell us, princesses.”

I got the sense that the dream was skimping on details again.

House laughed nervously. “I don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Me neither,” Auburn admitted.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got this,” I assured them. “Princesses actually don’t have to do that much.” I cleared my throat. “Now, both of you raise compelling points. Rose should be able to fix her patent, but at the same time it would be unfair to her competitors if the boundaries of her claims were allowed to vaguely encompass logical equivalents. Therefore, I will request the House of Ponies write an appropriate statute encompassing this case. In the meantime, I will need a full accounting of facts from the both of you in order to decide the fairest course of action. Until then, I can make no decision.”

“Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you Princess.”

The two of them bowed and walked away.

I turned to my fellow dream princesses.

“See? There’s nothing to it.”

“Don’t we all have to agree on it first?” House asked.

“You did great, Alice!” Auburn praised.

“I’m a bit surprised, though,” said Diane. “I would have expected you to be more decisive.”

I felt a sudden chill. “What do you mean?” I asked my sister.

A thunderclap struck the ground and my father appeared. I recoiled in surprise.

“What nonsense have those ponies been feeding you, Aron? A soldier does not hesitate. Deliberation can mean death. Decisive action is imperative; every wasted second invites death. I thought I raised you better than that.”

Another boom resonated throughout the room. This time, my brother materialized.

“I’m almost ashamed to call you my twin,” he scolded. “Such trifling matters don’t deserve consideration, let alone compromise.”

A wave of malaise and guilt overtook me. I opened my mouth to defend myself, but the words just weren’t there. It was true—I had acted in a completely Equestrian manner here—and during my Career Day experience too! Still, I hadn’t completely lost my senses, though, as it was clear that the tantabus was in control of this unconventional nightmare. Nevertheless, it still stung for targeting an area of insecurity.

“You’re more of a filly than a man at this point,” Lawrence declared.

“Indeed. Why, you’re more feminine than Diane,” Will added.

As my family continued to chastise me, my consternation grew. As I pressed my hooves to my face in distress, a blue haze started to rise from the stone tile floor. It coalesced into rays of light, which were absorbed into the tantabus’s body.

I felt a reassuring hoof on my back. Then another. And another.

“Deliberation isn’t weakness,” Diane stated. “I was wrong about a lot of things, and I’m still learning now, but it’s important to question what we thought we knew. Besides, you don’t have to sacrifice resolve or courage to be considerate of all aspects of a problem.”

“My dad is mean to me sometimes too,” said House. “Don’t be sad about it. Whether you’re a colt or a filly, you are still you, and you have a contribution to make.”

“Yeah, there’s nothing wrong with being a filly,” Auburn echoed.

Honestly, I would have been fine with just Diane trying to cheer me up, but the gesture was still appreciated from the other two. I obviously wasn’t about to accept everything they said, but they gave me the courage to look my father and brother in the eye.

“Apparently you haven’t seen how I live,” I said. “Yes, I’m a pony—a filly—but I’m still a Rhod as well. I enjoy combat sports, I hate singing, and I’m friends with Squirt the anti-pony—hardly a normal filly those make.”

I expected some jeering response, but as soon as I looked back at Will, he was gone. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my dad becoming coated in a bright light and phasing out. I then looked up with a smug expression.

Surprisingly, the tantabus was still present, and it emphasized this by roaring.

“Uhh… I expected it to vanish. Do you guys have any suggestions?”

“Maybe we can suck it into a giant vacuum cleaner,” House suggested.

“Any decent suggestions?” I asked.

“Well, this is a dream. Can’t we just wish the monster away?” Diane suggested.

I shook my head. “That won’t work. The tantabus is no product of our imagination. As such, it is immune any effect that would alter or erase it.”

Diane closed her eyes. A giant anvil appeared at ceiling height, just above the tantabus. It dropped, pulled by a force greater than gravity. Before impact, however, our foe touched the anvil and turned it into a packing peanut.

I smiled. “I like how you didn’t telegraph your idea of using something physical to inflict damage. Unfortunately, the tantabus is just as capable as ourselves when it comes to changing objects within the dreamscape.”

“Then how do we beat it?” my sister asked.

“As much as I hate to say it, I don’t think we can. We just have to hold out until Luna gets here.”

“Who’s Luna?” House asked.

“You don’t know?” I asked.

“I don’t know either,” Diane added, conjuring a shield to defend us from the dark energy pulsing from dream parasite.

“She’s the Princess of the Night,” I said rather unhelpfully. “I’d expect you not to know, Diane, but—Oh! There she... is?”

A rift appeared and Twilight popped through. She ignored the tantabus, dove down towards us and charged her horn. A blinding light filled the room. When I could finally muster opening my eyes, I found myself in Ponyville.

“Where are we now?” House asked.

“Cool it’s Ponyville,” said Auburn. “I love it here.”

“Ponyville? That’s a silly name,” said Diane.

“Who are these ponies, Alice?” Twilight asked.

“Well…”

A metal clanging distracted me, and I saw a pony I did not recognize flying on a pile of gold coins towards a much larger tantabus than I had had to deal with. Most prominent, however, was Luna flying high above. Her horn was glowing, and energy tendrils extended from it, draping over the dreamscape.

“What’s going on here?” I asked Twilight.

“This is the shared dreamscape that Princess Luna wanted to create for everyone in Ponyville. Something went wrong with your connection to it, though. I postulate it is because you have your own latent dream magic abilities.”

“I do?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me, since I have some too,” said Twilight. “Luna had to work around it to connect with me. At any rate, the tantabus split in two to access your dreamscape. I was able to vanquish the newly-formed copy with a special spell, but the original won’t go down that easily.”

“I shouldn’t keep you from doing whatever you need to be doing to help Luna. I just need to know what we should do.”

Applejack galloped by in a strange superhero costume. “Yeehaw! Howdy, Alice.”

Just when I thought that was odd, a red, male alicorn flew by. Before I could process this, a grown-up Spike in shining armor rode into battle on a giant Ditzy Doo, dodging blue tendrils while going after the main body of the tantabus.

“Well, we have tried to fight it, but it hasn’t gone too well,” Twilight explained. “You guys can jump in if you want. I’m going to talk to Princess Luna.”

With that, Twilight took wing and went towards Luna.

House looked around with wide eyes. “Neato! I always wanted to be a superhero!”

“Meh, it’s overrated,” I told her.

But the filly wasn’t having any of it and dressed herself us as a masked vigilante before galloping off.

“Me too,” said Auburn, doing the same.

Diane turned to me and smiled. “I guess I’m off then.” With that, she returned to being mostly human and summoned a greatbow. Her wings resized to fit her body, and she flew up to aim her first shot.

I paused and looked around. Lots of ponies were charging headlong at the tantabus with some strange power or another. However, the longer I watched, the more I was convinced that it was futile. If anything, the creature was only growing larger. All the while, the mental strain on Luna, as evidenced on the night princess’s face, seemed to be growing.

I scanned my surroundings. The dreamscape replicated Ponyville faithfully, and I recognized I was in the east part of town. Ignoring my wings for the moment, I took a curvy street and came across a store for linens. Momentarily curious, I opened the door, only to find the store completely empty. Just as I started to back away, the shape of the room shifted. A front counter appeared, followed by a display of bedsheets, a rack of shirts, and some tablecloths.

It makes sense. It doesn’t need to be there in a dream until I expect it to be there, or need to be there.

I chuckled as realization dawned on me.

“That’s stupid. There’s no way that should work…”

And yet. it was fully consistent with the flexible nature of dream rules I had come to expect.

“I really expect to find a clue upstairs. That’s where a clue would logically be. Oh how I expect a clue will be upstairs,” I announced as I climbed the stairs to the second floor.

Rounding the corner, I found another mostly empty room. Other than my stated expectation, I couldn’t come up with anything obvious that would be there, and accordingly, I saw nothing.

Worth a try… I guess dreams aren’t that easy to manipulate.

I didn’t know what to do next, save for hoping there was another floor.

It didn’t work before, so why would—Really?

Sure enough, as soon as I turned my head to glance at what was previously a plain wall, I found my doorway and staircase. There hadn’t even been space for a third floor.

Okay, there has got to be some logic to this. Merely willing it into existence isn’t enough. What’s needed is some sort of blind faith—expectation rather. The expectation beyond a shadow of a doubt.

This was as tricky as it sounded, but I gave my best attempt, emptying my head of forced affirmations. Instead, I circumlocuted what I was after. I thought about why I needed to find a clue, what I would do when I found it and vague imaginings of the tantabus’s defeat.

As I took the last step up, I tried to smooth out my hope into conviction. I must have failed, however, as I came upon another empty room.

Save for the brown stallion at the center of it.

“Just about my luck…” I lamented. “I should have expected this, seeing how even normal dreams never seem to go my way.”

“If it’s at all reassuring, I don’t know why I’m here either. Normally I have my role as I try to help you adjust. But today I don’t know why I’m here,” said the stallion.

“I thought you didn’t know your purpose, or anything helpful. Now you say you want to help me adjust. What changed? And who said I needed help adjusting?”

He sighed. “I’m sorry. That’s just what I’ve inferred. I still don’t have the answers you desire.”

“But why—”

I felt an immense pressure and in an instant the roof was torn cleanly off. I braced myself against the wall and gripped the carpet.

I spotted Twilight flying among the debris, and her words resonated throughout the dreamscape: “The tantabus grew more powerful because of your guilt! You need to forgive yourself, Luna! That’s the only way.”

“I… cannot do that,” Luna said. “I caused so much harm; I don’t... deserve... forgiveness.”

“But, Luna, you’re determined to protect everypony here. That proves you’ve changed, Luna. You’re not the pony you were before.”

Luna shut her eyes, tears welling up. “If… it is the only way…”

The now massive tantabus roared and writhed. Its body itself seemed to be collapsing, as if nothing solid remained to support the smoky veneer.

“You did it. Yay!” said Fluttershy, who was riding on a gigantic monster bunny.

“Yeah, Luna, that was awesome!” Dash cheered.

“Yes, I suppose I did,” Luna said, with mixed emotion.

One of the detached blue tendrils seemed to stretch and thin moving towards us.

Huh… come to think of it, that one still looks like it could be after us. Surely it’s not—

“Look out!” I shouted.

I was too late; however, as the smoke tentacle suddenly wrapped around the brown stallion. I watched in horror as smoke covered his body, and the nucleus of a new tantabus formed, taking on his fur pigmentation in the process.

The creature roared as it’s body expanded to massive proportions.

“What’s happening!?” Twilight asked, alarmed.

“No! The tantabus has found a new source of power. And by the looks of it, it is just as powerful as it was with my guilt.

Realizing I was in a pinch unlike most known to Equestria, I reached out and felt for the power of the earth. Thinking quickly, I augmented my foot-speed with my geomancy. The brown tantabus raised a fist-like protrusion and tried to pile-drive me. I was now nimble enough to dodge, and I reflexively altered my enhancement to one of pure power and put it entirely in my right forehoof.

I should have listened to my reservations, as punching the new tantabus was like hitting pudding. Worse, I found myself unable to extract my hoof, as if it was resting in sticky quicksand.

Twilight fired a magic beam at the brown blob, but the creature flew out of the way, dragging me into the air along with it.

“Help!!!” I yelled, starting to get vertigo from the creatures aberrant flight pattern.

“No power should be stronger than guilt or self-judgment,” Luna said. “Self-judgment? Wait, that could be it! Alice, is there anything that’s been bothering you? Anything from which the tantabus could feed?”

“Not that I can think of,” I shouted back.

Applejack tossed a lasso onto my back hooves and started tugging me down. “I reckon you should think of somethin’, sugarcube.”

“It can be anything, Alice,” said Twilight. “A confession might work too.”

“All right then. Tantabus, I actually like being a pony.”

My words seemed to hang on the air for several awkward moments.

“Really?” Pinkie Pie asked.

“Ummm… I have a crush on Squirt,” I tried, as the tantabus started to pull me free of the lasso..

“You do?” Rarity asked.

“No and no,” I replied. “I’m just telling it what I think that blasted stallion might want to hear.

“Maybe it is guilt. Try and forgive yourself,” Twilight counseled.

“But I don’t have anything I’m guilty over.”

“Yeah, well you better figure it out fast, or we’re all in big trouble,” said Rainbow.

Confused, I closed my eyes and tried to tune out all outside stimulus—extremely difficult as the tantabus was swinging me around like a tethered rag doll.

Guilt… shame… have I felt them recently?

Somehow as I imagined the impact of these emotions, I recalled them in the not-so-recent past.

Twilight flew by and tried to arrest the spin-cycle I was being put through. “Can you think of anything else, Alice?”

“I… I really don’t want to…”

“Alice, I beseech you: do it for Equestria. I didn’t want to forgive myself either. If it’s any consolation, your bravery will surely earn our forgiveness—for whatever it is,” Luna implored

I sighed. “This thing can escape and turn the waking world into a nightmare?”

“Yes! Hurry!” said Luna.

I took a breath, ready to belt out a speech. “Fine… these last few weeks I have noticed myself changing, adapting to this world, acting more like a pony. I like to think it was the world itself doing this to me, but the reality is I’ve been complicit—accepting even of some of the changes. And that might be okay.”

Did it work?

My answer came immediately as the brown tantabus imploded suddenly and instantly. I found myself falling fast towards the hard ground below. I flailed helplessly in the air, closing my eyes to brace for the impact. Fortunately, somepony had the sense to will a mattress into existence underneath me.

I should have thought of that… or simply remembered I have wings.

Blinking to reorient myself, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the was brown stallion stepping into a rift, presumably leaving the dreamscape.

Twilight stroked me with a wing. “You did well, Alice. That was a poignant declaration.”

“Yeah… thanks,” I muttered, still dizzy.

“Although… you didn’t have to say all of that out loud.”

I slunked. “Ponyfeathers…”

After awakening under a warm wing, I was once more praised by Twilight’s friends for my contribution. I did my best to dismiss their congratulations, but in Pinkie’s case, this made her all the more effusive. I had to be emphatic in acknowledging her to get her to stop. Eventually, after more mutual laudiing, Twilight parted with her friends, and they returned to their daily lives.

Star yawned and stretched entering the room. “All right, I feel refreshed and ready to go. And given that the world is still here, I presume you saved it just fine. Let me get the saddle on, and we’ll be ready to go, Alice.”

“If I could have a moment with her first, Star.”

“Okay, but—”

“Thank you,” said Luna. “Alice, last night’s events confirmed my earlier suspicions about the brown stallion. Indeed, the tantabus would have been unable to possess him had they not been of similar composition.”

I got the impression that there was bad news to come as well.

“That’s great!” I said, hopeful. “Does that mean you know how to fix it?”

Luna shook her head. “Were he an actual tantabus, confronting the source of your guilt would have vanquished him completely. As that was not the case, we can rule out that outside possibility.”

“Yeah, he did get away,” I said, sighing. “Avoiding you as usual probably… He’s very hard to trust considering he’s sneaking around all the time.”

Luna nodded, concerned. “In any case, what I can tell you for sure is that it is an some sort of artificial dream creature planted in your subconscious by somepony—most likely you yourself.”

“I—I don’t think so,” I offered weakly.

“Truly? Hmm... it could perhaps have been one of those other presences with whom you had dream-synched?”

“So the others really were there? Hmm… in that case, can you tell me who the other two are? I know my sister, but I’m pretty sure I’ve never met Auburn or House Keeper.”

“You don’t remember the second filly’s name?”

I raised an eyebrow. “I told you, they were named House Keeper and Auburn.

“Wait, you mean there were three fillies in your dream?” Luna asked, surprised.

“Uh.... yes?” I experienced an unease sensation in my stomach. This wasn’t shaping up well.

“Hmm. That is somewhat concerning. Including you and Twilight, I only sensed four distinct magical signatures arriving at the shared dreamscape at that moment.”

“Does it really matter?” I asked, somewhat nervous. “Wouldn’t that just mean I made up a filly named Auburn or House Keeper on my own? Why is that a big deal?”

“That is certainly a possibility. Although, speculation does leave me to wonder if this third presence could a malicious actor of sorts—though evil or not, tampering with your dreams would be a concern in any case. Most importantly, if you didn’t create this stallion yourself, perhaps…”

“Perhaps she created him,” I finished.

Luna nodded. “I will set-up some more wards around your dreams. With luck, we can smoke out this intruder.”

“Wouldn’t you be able to tell me if it were House Keeper, though?” I offered. “After all, you were able to count how many ponies dropped into the shared dreamscape.”

Luna shook her head. “That would certainly narrow it down. Unfortunately, I can only count consciences within a dream when I am inside it as well; I observed from the outside when House Keeper appeared in your other dream.”

“No, it wouldn’t just narrow it down; it would prove that it’s Auburn,” I insisted. “I just know my sister was really there.”

Luna seemed unconvinced. “When dealing with dream parasites and related creatures, I’ve found that they can be very crafty. Creating a stallion familiar to stoke your fears, disguising itself to observe you. These tactics are all very possible.”

I nodded, somewhat in distress. I was convinced it was Auburn, but it really wasn’t that simple after all.

“Umm… Princess,” Star said, uncharacteristically meek.

“Yes, Star?”

“I don’t mean to interrupt your important discussion, but Alice should have been in school a few hours ago.”

“No worries. All I had left is to say you should think about it Alice. Trust your instincts, and see if you can work it out yourself. If not, we can change tactics later.”

I grit my teeth. I already had an obnoxious dream stallion, but now I had to deal with an intruder, a parasite, or even an imposter. This all added up to be very bad, but what irked me the most was how innocuous this invader’s actions were, as if expecting courtesy would exonerate her for defiling my mind. Despite a whole flight to Canterlot to process these details, I barely inched closer to any sort of answers.

And so, I arrived at school just in time for music class. My day had barely started, and it already felt like a long one.

Diane rubbed her eyes, awakening in her new underground home. It finally felt like it could be called a home, as resources had finally been allocated for her dwelling. She rolled out of her floor-level mattress and stretched like a cat. Despite her new lifestyle, she had retained most of her rituals to maintain a strong body. Today, halfway through her routine, memories of what she dreamt the night before bubbled up to the surface.

How strange. Aron became a little pony named Alice...

Somehow that didn’t seem strange—as if she had seen it before.

She couldn’t quite piece together a complete picture, but she did have half-remembered scraps: combat, transformation, a hopeless struggle.

And there was also a girl—a girl searching for the draconequus known as Quarrel.

Chapter 31

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Chapter 32

“Come on, Pink, it’s not that big a deal,” I pleaded.

I thought I had said it with sincerity, but my words only seemed to make her cry harder.

“I—I’m—sniff—so embarrassed. Y… you heard what they said. I’m just—sob—a baby that still needs her nightlight.”

“It isn’t that bad,” I tried. “Sure they’ll laugh today, but tomorrow they’ll all have forgotten about it.”

Pink Diamond started trembling. “But everypony from school was here! It—nopony will not be talking about it tomorrow!”

I doubted her, but this line of attack just wasn’t getting it done, so I varied my approach.

“Pink, I can’t speak for everypony, but I’m not laughing at you.”

She looked at me through teary eyes.

“I mean, I don’t even know what Tadfoals is. And besides, I’m sure plenty of adults like to have a little light when they sleep.”

Even if it’s not because they’re scared of the dark...”

For a moment, Pink Diamond stopped crying. “You’ve never heard of Tadfoals?”

“Nope. Never read any of the books as a younger foal.”

“It’s really great! There’s Plucky, Marinanna, and Whirlpool who are best friends. The Coral twins are also funny, but my favorite is Diavern, she’s really cool and friends with everypony—kind of like Zephyr Zap,” she rattled off quickly. Nonetheless, tears started to run down her face again.

“During tough times, they were always there. When I’m lonely, it was like they were my friends. Because I—sniff—don’t have any!”

Again? Hmm, between Jill and these exchange ponies, Celestia may have a point with all this teaching friendship nonsense.

“That’s not true Pink. I—”

I suddenly tensed up. Come on, tell her you’re her friend.

I opened my mouth, only to leave it ajar stupidly for several long moments. I wanted to alleviate her pain, but I wasn’t ready to take the responsibility of being her friend.

“Uhh… I’m sure Zephyr Zap is your friend.”

“Yeah, but she’s friends with everypony,” Pink sobbed.

“So what you were saying before about Tadfoals. What else do you like about it?”

“It’s all about everypony having fun together. All of the tadfoals love to sing, dance and play games. Except for Slunk, who doesn’t like anything fun. Still, the other ponies keep inviting her to be nice, but I don’t think anypony likes her.”

Pink Diamond froze.

“Doesn’t… like her. Keeps inviting her to be nice. I’M SLUNK AREN’T I?” she shrieked before hemorrhaging tears. Her cries turned into loud wails, which drowned out the noises of the distant party.

I raised my hoof tentatively before giving up and putting it down again. I repeated this exercise a couple more times as I eliminated every idea I came up with. Finally, the pressure of inaction got to me.

“Hey, it’s okay to be embarrassed. I know I would be too in your position. But this isn’t going to last forever. You know what they say: time heals all wounds.”

I heard soft hoofsteps and I turned around. Stardust and Style had somehow snuck up on me.

“Uh… guys? I don’t think this is a good time to recruit her into the AAA.”

Stardust glared at me, while Style started rubbing Pink Diamond’s withers.

“We wouldn’t do that, River,” Stardust finally verbalized. “Pink, I really respect your efforts to befriend Annuity. You tried really hard and treated her with a lot of kindness. I know it hurts to see that kindness and effort rebuffed. But that Annuity is just a bad apple.”

“I tried to tell you,” I said, admittedly gloating somewhat.

“River! That’s not going to make her feel better,” Style reprimanded.

Pink Diamond sniffed, wiping her nose on a fetlock. “I’m not blind I know she’s mean. I—I just thought I could get through to her and be her friend. But I wasn’t good enough!”

“Come on Pink, you can have plenty of friends,” I added, trying to save face. “You want to be like Diavern, right? You just need to choose the ponies you associate with better. There are plenty of fish in the sea.”

The crying filly looked down and away. Style moved her hoof up and began stroking her mane.

“All right all right! I’ve heard enough. River, you’re fired!”

“ Huh? Zap!? When did you get here? What do you mean?”

Zephyr Zap flashed me a winner’s smile. “This is a job for a filly’s touch.”

Stardust and Style locked eyes and tried their best not to laugh. “Well, River, we do have to admit that you’re not that good at being a filly,” Stardust conceded.

“Thanks...” I grumbled.

“Pink, just because Annuity didn’t accept doesn’t mean that you’re not good enough,” said Zap.

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re her friend,” Pink said, not buying it.

I had to admit this was a good point.

“Well, I’ve known her for a really long time. It’s really luck whether she takes a liking to you or not. In my case Annuity just liked my color scheme. I can’t tell what it is that got her to not like you, but it’s probably not what you think.”

Pink Diamond stopped crying. “So it’s not that I’m too energetic? That I talk too fast? That I’m overbearing?”

“No, not at all,” Zap assured her. “And even if Annuity thought any of those things—well she’s just a judgmental pony. I mean, Annuity makes doesn’t like it that my wings buzz when I’m excited.” She made her wings buzz for emphasis. “But it’s something that makes me me. If you really want friends you have to overlook some things.”

“Overlook some things? You mean like bullying?” I challenged. Looking to Stardust and Style, I expected their support but saw they were rather uncertain.

“Well, sort of,” said Zap. “A little bit, but it’s more complicated than that.” She flashed a tentative smile.

I didn’t buy it for a second.

Nonetheless, I could see Zap had helped Pink Diamond immensely. Stardust and Style nodded their approval.

“So how about joining our—oof!”

Style nudged Stardust in the ribs.

“Oof…”

Struggling to keep eye contact with Celestia, I sunk into the soft cushion.

“So that’s how it went down,” I finished. “I know I failed in my mission by allowing this to happen, and I’m ready to accept the full consequences and punishment for my carelessness.”

“Punish you? Why would I punish you?” Celestia asked in disbelief.

“Don’t you remember? You said you were entrusting Pink Diamond and Zephyr Zap to me. My performance is inexcusable: I knew full well that Pink could get hurt, but I was completely powerless to prevent Annuity from humiliating her in front of everypony.”

“Why are you being so hard on yourself?” Celestia asked.

I gave no answer, since I knew full well that she knew of my background.

“You did your best to comfort her and ran after her when she was hurting. In my book your good faith effort to be her friend means you pass with flying colors.”

“I did terrible!” I insisted. “I tried telling her that she shouldn’t be ashamed for liking Tadfoals, but that didn’t go anywhere. It took Style and Stardust to realize what was really bothering her. And when I thought I had a handle of what to say, Zephyr Zap comes flying in with some more insight. It’s like Pink Diamond’s feelings were one of those sliding puzzles—like she was speaking in a language of riddles when I was trying to help her.”

Celestia chuckled softly.

“What?” I asked, stumped.

“They said it best, Alice. It takes a filly to understand a filly’s heart.”

I had several things I wanted to say in response to that.

“So you’re saying fillies— don’t say what they mean?”

“Hmm… I wonder,” Celestia mused. “Most stallions seem to think so.”

I sighed at her non-answer. “Fillies are amazing—being able to see through to what was eating at Pink Diamond. Despite turning into one myself I’m nowhere near that level.”

Celestia raised her brow. “Does that distress you? If anything I thought you would be relieved to be less like a filly.”

“It’s not that!” I insisted, shuffling my feet. “It’s just that they were able to do my job better than I was. Regardless, she’s going to remember yesterday for the rest of her life.”

“I would agree with that,” said Celestia. “It was likely a flashpoint that will shape her beliefs for years to come. However, what I think she’ll remember most is that she had so many friends come to comfort her.”

“But she wore a paper bag on her head all day!”

Celestia took a moment to respond, mildly surprised. “Well, these things do take time. I firmly believe that her experience last night helped her grow as a pony. She’ll better understand what she values and what to expect in her relationships with other ponies. She may not orchestrate the rest of her relationships flawlessly, but she did learn something about friendship. And your actions are largely responsible.”

“But I didn’t do anything!” I said frantically. “Like I said, it was all Zap, Stardust and Style.”

Celestia smiled. “Being able to rely on one’s friends in a pinch is not a sign of weakness. I think all great ponies—or people—owe a lot of their success to the company they keep.”

I couldn’t find the words, so I just conveyed my skepticism by standing there with my mouth hanging slightly open.

“Besides, Alice, we have a princess and a metaphorical kingdom that would not be without the help of her friends. You may not think much of your execution, but your friends followed you straight away when you chased after the hurting Pink Diamond.”

“They did?”

Celestia smiled. “Star Chart saw the whole thing. Seeing you run after Pink moved them to act.”

I was momentarily stunned.

Celestia thinks I was a good leader from that?

“And not only that. You also didn’t forget Zephyr Zap either,” Celestia explained.

I flopped onto a red beanbag cushion. “I could have insisted more strongly. After all, she was being a complete hypocrite! What gives her the right to tell Pink Diamond not to worry about Annuity while she still tries to stay in Miss Richer-Than-Thee’s good graces.”

Celestia showed me a patient expression, her motherly complexion free of any wrinkles of doubt.

“You chastise yourself for not being more forceful, but I think your approach was correct, even if it did not turn out as you intended. Zephyr Zap’s a young filly with a lot on her mind. If you went to her determined to change her mind with strong words, she might have further entrenched herself. Go in softly, and you can gently push her towards epiphany.”

“That… that’s not how we do things on my world.”

Celestia tossed her head to the side. “Surely there are some people on your world who influence with words rather than might?”

I paused to think. “Not many I don’t think. There were orators at rallies and ceremonies who gave speeches to boost morale and provide singularity of purpose. Is that what you mean?”

“Yes and no,” Celestia said coyly. “While using words to motivate or reinforce a shared purpose is sometimes valuable, soft-spoken persuasion is another art altogether. I obviously have my own bias, but I find the former to be limiting. While it can influence listeners, I’ve found, with ponies at least, real change that comes from within is more enduring.”

“Yeah, you would probably think that.” I sighed. “I still believe there are times when a need for unity requires something closer to my approach.”

“You’re not wrong,” Celestia said. “If I’m trying to encourage ponies to give to the orphans’ fund for instance, I really want my listeners to agree with the shared goal. But for issues less clear, I like to speak to a pony’s intellect as well as their emotions. If I can stir up ideas or counterarguments, that helps everypony by furthering the debate.”

“I—I guess that makes sense. I mean, I’m not exactly advocating for Rhod’s ways here, but at the same time I’m reluctant to accept that everything you ponies do is plainly better.”

I paused.

“Except for the food. In that respect you ponies definitely have us beat.”

Celestia smiled soothingly. “You’re starting to appreciate alternative perspectives. See? You can still learn things on your second time through school!”

I shook my head quickly. “I think it’s more what Bulwark said to me than anything I learned at Canterlot First. I’m not sure Ms. Fizzle has taught me anything more than a little pony history.”

“And spelling,” Celestia added playfully.

I rolled my eyes. “Hey, I’m getting better. I’ll have you know that I only misspelled three words on my last writing assignment. Besides, it’s not my fault your alphabet is so precise.”

“Well, Alice, our time is just about up. Keep me posted on anything related to your dream friends or that brown stallion. Never hesitate to drop me a note if there’s anything you don’t understand about our cultu—”

Celestia’s bedroom door let out a squeak, as the next pony in line, Blue Horizon poked her head through the opening.

“—And that’s why friendship is the best thing in the world. Take care, my little pony,” Celestia said, stroking my withers awkwardly for the second I took to realize I was supposed to leave.

“Thanks, Princess!” I shouted with feigned enthusiasm.

Blue Horizon seemed slightly unconvinced. “That sounds like how the princess teaches me. Weren’t you supposed to be getting advanced friendship lessons?”

Celestia and I locked eyes.

“Well, yes, but there’s a good reason for that,” Celestia recited with perfectly natural inflection.

When she didn’t continue, I had to quickly read her expression. What I discovered was that it wasn’t that she couldn’t find a convincing lie; it was that she was curious what sort of fib I would come up with.

“Ah. I see what you’re getting at,” I told Blue Horizon. “I am a more advanced friendship student, but the princess reminds me every day that in any endeavor you must remain grounded in the basics.”

Celestia stroked me with a wing. “Right you are, my student. Pleasant dreams to you.”

The double meaning was apparent to me. I wasn’t sure what I wanted more: a night of dreaming free of incident, or something substantive happening to clear up some of the mystery. As I walked back to my room, I found myself gently surprised by a realization: There were twelve exchange students, including me. If Celestia gave each of them half an hour of her time a week, that was six full hours every week she was investing just to keep suspicion off me!

I shook my head in disbelief.

I know she owes me for bringing me here, but she really tends to go out of her way when it comes to me. I’ll have to thank her sometime.

I navigated my way back to my room on autopilot. Even though the castle was huge, I had never lost my bearings. Still, when I stopped to think about it, I had mostly been confined to the areas of the castle used by the staff. Besides, there were bound to be plenty more secret rooms like the one behind the kitchen.

Back at my room with a little over an hour before bedtime, I wrestled with a familiar problem: what exactly to do with my free time. Out of habit, I hopped up on my bed and sat down. As if hoping something new was there to be found, I scanned my room. My homework was done. It was too late to exercise with my training weights. My bit purse still sat on my desk mostly full.

I think Celestia gave me too much money.

Other than paying my own way at the soda shoppe and purchasing Annuity’s birthday gift, I hadn’t spent a single bit. Of course, most of the time, I didn’t have my money with me. One of the surprising challenges of being a pony was having to carefully plan what I would take with me since no clothing meant no pockets—unless, of course, I strapped on my saddlebags. As it was, there simply wasn’t a lot of freedom to carry things. Out of all the adaptations I had made to this world, this was surely one of the most subtle, but it was nevertheless impressive. If I had been told I would learn to live without hands or pockets I would have laughed in disbelief.

My eyes next fell on the mask of Annuity. It was strange to think about it, but that mask was one of my first possessions in Equestria. Jill had given it to me as an afterthought, but, it was already my favorite knickknack of the scarce few I had. It had no practical use, but I still rather liked looking at it. It added a little personal flair to my room where there was almost none.

Completing my survey of the room, I finally landed on my bookshelf. Although I had recently stocked it with books checked out from the castle library, I hadn’t touched even a single one. I knew it was ridiculous, but I could still feel the stigma of idle diversions in the fringes of my consciousness.

Curiosity eventually got the best of me, though I put up a fight by making a token effort on the cutie mark poem.

Books, or cutie mark poem? Yeah, I’d rather read. Unsure, I picked a book at random. My choice ended up being the one work on fiction among them. I hadn’t been interested in sampling any more pony literature, but the librarian mare was just so nice that I couldn’t turn down her recommendation. In using the castle’s resources, I felt I had committed to reading whatever I had picked. Part of me wanted to put it down in favor of the nonfiction, but that also felt like backing out.

The book started out slow. It was about a young stallion working at a university. He could be absent-minded at times, but he was determined to do good work and make a contribution. The protagonist was a pleasant surprise, as I had expected the focus to be on foal characters in literature directed to foals. I found myself interested in this stallion as a character and his day-to-day life. He had a strict routine he followed every day. He wasn’t the brightest in his field, but he worked meticulously to be the best he could, and that put him ahead of his peers who, although more talented, didn’t work half as hard.

This was well and good, but I only realized a few pages pages in advance that something would need to go wrong for there to be any sort of conflict. Sure enough, the stallion, along with his clearly evil rival, was thrown back in time by a senior professor who had recruited the two of them to test his temporal anchors. That would have raised a red flag for me, but I suppose the book had to kick-start its plot somehow.

The protagonist had to hold out long enough in each time period for the temporal anchors to activate and take them further into the future—or would it be less deep into the past? In any event, the antagonist wanted to actively meddle in the timeline for his own personal gain, and our hero had to thwart him at each stage. The climax featured a highly unrealistic but entertaining, sword fight between the two, only a few hundred meters away from where Celestia was confronting Nightmare Moon.

Nightmare Moon? Where have I heard that before?

I heard a rapping at my door. To my shame, I flinched slightly. I had been so engrossed in the book that I had missed the first knock.

“Come in,” I prompted.

I wasn’t surprised in the slightest when it was Celestia.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. It seemed strange that she would come in my room when we had just concluded a friendship lesson. “Did you forget to say something?”

“No, I was just concerned,” Celestia said. “Your light was still on.”

I dropped my eyes to the book, and for about half-second I pondered a vain attempt to try and stash the book away. Defeated, I sighed, reluctant, and held the book out for the princess to see.

“I was just reading this. Nothing to be concerned about.”

Celestia said nothing.

“I know that’s sort of atypical for me, but I had nothing else to do, so I just thought I’d try something new you know...”

Her gaze persisted, and it started to get awkward. Finally she stated, “While I am pleasantly surprised to find you reading, what alarms me more is that it’s half-past midnight.”

I chuckled, half-convinced that she was joking. I slowly shifted my gaze to the room’s only clock, and my eyes popped when I realized she was right.

“Oh no! What happened!? That couldn’t have been more than an hour!”

Celestia smiled. “A good book can do that to you. Why, I had been quite accustomed to discovering Twilight unknowingly burning the midnight oil, consumed in a good read. Though in your case, you do have school tomorrow…” Her expression stiffened into a look I couldn’t decipher.

“I’m sorry?” I tried, hopping up to turn off my light. “I’m going to bed now. See!?”

I felt the strangely soothing sensation of her magic lightly pulling on me. It was felt like my coat suddenly picked up a static charge.

A playful smile emerged on Celestia’s face. “No. For exceeding your bedtime clearly some punishment is in order!”

She has to be joking. Right?

“But for a first time offense, I suppose I can let you off with… this.” She bopped me lightly on the nose. Despite the lack of force, it was still somewhat disorienting. Celestia then proceeded to turn the light off with magic. “Honestly, Alice, you ought to try breaking the rules once in a while—within reason of course. It would make me happy to see you carve out some independence.”

As Celestia tiphooved back into the hall, slowly shutting my door to cut off the last remainders of light, my head was spinning, only partly due to how late it was.

What…. What just happened? She wants me to break the rules? Why would I do that?

Flummoxed, I let my fatigue take hold of me and drifted into a less-than-peaceful slumber.

The moment my consciousness faded, I felt a dropping sensation in the pit of my stomach. Before fear could take hold, however, a familiar scene materialized. I looked around the throne room and galloped up to the stained glass window depicting events in Equestrian history. To my surprise, they were in full resolution containing none of the gaps I would expect if my own brain was trying to cut corners in rendering the dreamscape. I shook my head.

“Even if that was what was happening, putting my attention on finding a seam will just make it all the less likely I will be able to find one.” Contradicting my words, I quickly whipped my gaze to the ceiling, where various banners were hanging. To my mild disappointment the flags representing the three tribes looked impeccable. “Are pony dreams more substantial or something? I’m asking all the right questions, aware that I’m dreaming, and it still doesn’t break down.”

“Hey, Alice! who are you talking to?” Auburn asked

I turned around and saw the little brown alicorn filly.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“Come on I’m Auburn we’re best friends!”

“I’m pretty sure I’m not. We’ve met once. Frankly, I’m more of a friend to Annuity than I am with you.”

She was undeterred. “But we can be friends—in the dreeeeeeeamscape,” she said spreading her front hooves out in front of her.”

“Oh, Alice, you’re here already?” my sister said, stepping into view. With her relative size, getting stepped on was at the forefront of my mind. She looked at the two of us and seemed to consider something. “Was I supposed to come in fur?”

“No, there’s no dress code here. And judging by the fact that Auburn is an alicorn and we’re all in the palace I think we’re supposed to hold some sort of tedious dream court again. If I had to bet, those same two patent ponies will probably come back again and ask about the doctrine of equivalents or something.”

Diane smiled warmly at me before morphing into an alicorn cat with antlers.

“Yeah, that works,” I said.

The double doors flew open before slamming behind House Keeper, who came fumbling in.

“Sorry I’m late did I miss anything?”

She too was an alicorn.

“No, you’re not late for anything. In fact, I was just going to try and blow up this dreamscape anyway before I have to play princess again,” I announced.

“Aww, but I wanted a turn,” House griped.

“Why do the two of you keep showing up in my dreams, anyway?” I asked, gesturing to House and Auburn.

“You still haven’t helped me yet,” said House.

I sifted through half a dozen excuses before settling on the fact that I had enough problems of my own; but I never got a chance to voice it.

“But hanging out with you has been fun,” she continued. “I think we can be good friends.”

But I hardly know you.

“Well… I don’t know—we don’t have anything in common,” I said, dismissive.

“I know! That’s why you’re so great. You say what’s in your heart and you lead and you don’t care what other ponies think. I know I don’t want to be wrong in front of others. And you’re a filly too—like me. I want to be like you!”

I cocked my head. “I don’t think I’ve shown you anything special. I just copied what I saw Princess Celestia doing. And that other time wasn’t really me.”

“You’re ruled by a mare?” House asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, you know, the Princess of the Sun—brings daylight to the world. You saw her last dreamscape. Ring any bells?”

“No,” House answered, a blank look on her face.

I’ll have to report this to Celestia. Poor filly is probably part of some obscure, misogynistic cult.

“And you, what’s your story,” I asked turning to Auburn, trying my best to conceal my suspicion.

“Oh, me? Well I’m just here to enjoy doing things in dreams that I’ll never get to experience for myself. Thank you for having me.”

I nodded weakly at her. I just wasn’t buying it.

Fortunately, the doors swung open, relieving me from having to respond more substantially. Heavy hoofsteps hit the polished floor as an armored stallion walked in.

“Presenting Donut Dawn and Rose Tea,” he announced.

“And that’s my cue,” I said, stretching my short legs. Bending down, I charged straight through a stained glass window. I shattered it in several places, but my small size limited the gratification completely breaking it would have brought. The other foals (and kitten) hopped through the opening I had created.

“Even you, House? I thought you would’ve wanted to stay behind and play princess,” I remarked.

“No way! Those two ponies are booooooring!”

“So what’s happening?” Diane asked, looking around confusedly into the white void.

“It’s a good point,” I agreed. “Where are we exactly?”

Nopony said anything for several seconds.

“Probably because we rebelled against the shared dreamscape’s plot. It’s like we’re actors in a movie and went behind the set, only to find nothing there,” Auburn mused.

“That’s a good way of thinking about it. I had thought you were House’s age, Auburn, so I’ve gotta ask: how old are you?”

“Oh, Alice, you should know never to ask a mare her age,” Auburn said playfully.

Mare, huh? Is she like Diane? Not a filly in the waking world?

I then considered that we were all alicorns, and it became apparent that I should have been skeptical of appearances from the get-go.

Suddenly the dreamscape began to warp around us. I closed my eyes to ward off dizziness as I felt the ground’s texture change and rise up.

“Well, that’s certainly a weird building,” Auburn remarked after a few seconds.

I blinked the world back into focus and my eyes popped at the outrageous structure. It looked like an ordinary skyscraper, but the top stories bifurcated and branched out to form a pair of towers.

“True,” Diane the caticorn agreed, “it reminds me of structures I’ve seen in history books. I don’t remember what they’re called though…”

“How does it stay up like that?” I said, adding my voice to the group astonishment.

House Keeper cocked her head. “What’s so strange about it?” Taking a second look around, she added, “But I don’t know where we are or even what city we’re in right now.”

“Hey, what’s this metal vent!?” Auburn asked.

“Don’t!” House shouted.

Auburn hopped off the vent just in time to avoid piping hot steam which filled the air.

“Why would anyone put that there, where anyone could walk over it?” I asked rhetorically; but the frenetic dream pace denied me an answer.

“Look: the train’s here!” House cheered. “Come on, girls, I have something to show you. This will be my first time showing it to friends!”

What the…

What was rolling towards us only bore the slightest resemblance to a train. It had a series of what looked like cars at least, but that’s where any similarity ended. What I was left looking at was a series of gelatin structures resting on a floating platform.

“Come on!” House Keeper urged, diving headlong into the wobbly cube.

Before I had even formulated half of the questions this raised, my hooves had already made the decision for me. There was even less of an impact than I anticipated, and the four of us settled in the center of the blob due to some sort of sticky force. Somehow there was an adjustment process and we spread out into standing positions, as if experiencing magnetic repulsion from one another.

“Aww man why’s it so slow?” House griped.

“Probably because everything feels like an eternity in a dream,” I postulated.

“That’s pretty accurate,” Diane admitted. “Like something exciting is imminent, but it never comes around.”

I smiled at Diane. “So when’s the baby due?”

“You’re awfully impatient, Alice. It’s hardly been two months.”

Is time just messed up here, or I missing something? I’ve been a pony longer than that, haven’t I?

“Aron—no, Alice. Sometimes I feel like you’re really here. I don’t know if it’s my subconscious’s way of helping me cope with loss, but it’s been nice talking to you.”

“Y—yeah…” I said, hesitant. Honestly, it was only when Luna indicated otherwise that I had abandoned the solipsistic belief that I was the only real thing in this dream. I suppose it would be natural for the other three to think the same way. No matter how I looked at it, however, I could not pick out any clear clue regarding which one of my three dream friends was the fake.

To my left, I could see House in an animated conversation.

“That’s really neat!” said Auburn. “I hope you get to play with your brothers some more.”

That’s right. I should be concentrating on these two weird ponies.

“So what do you like to do, Auburn?” House asked.

Look at that: she’s doing my job for me. I don’t even have to probe.

“Oh, I like a lot of different things. I’m getting to do a lot more of what I want now—reading, playing sports, games with friends.”

“Neat,” said House. “It sounds like you get to do the things you want to do. I’m kinda jealous.”

“Not always,” Auburn said with a sigh. “I’m kind of like you in that I haven’t always been allowed to do what I want. For the longest time, I wasn’t allowed to style my hair.”

“That’s not fair, but why would you like that? I hate going to the beautician! She always tells me I have to look my best for my future husband, and she takes sooooo looong.”

“Both of you should just try your best at being yourselves,” Diane remarked. “I can tell you that living in a rigid paradigm is suffocating at times.”

“Paradine? What’s that?” House asked. Why are you using such big words?”

I smiled. It was easy to forget how young House was. I hardened my expression. No, I can’t let my guard around her. I’ve seen firsthand what dream creatures can do.

Her attention span expired and she looked to Auburn again for amusement. They talked at length about their favorite foods. I tried to stay invested for any potential clues, but their idle chatter got to me over time. I felt a strange sense of fatigue and I drifted in and out of an alert state. Diane meanwhile was looking at the children lovingly.

“WHAT!? You’ve never had gorkoschnaut!?” asked House in disbelief.

“No, and it doesn’t sound like something I’d want to try,” Auburn admitted. “Sorry.”

“But it’s REEEEALLLLLY good!”

“More importantly, House, you never told us what you meant when you said you were looking for a quarrel,” Auburn said.

“Not a quarrel, the quarrel!” House corrected. “If I find the quarrel my dad would be really happy with me, so I’m trying my best! I’ve looked through every room at home, but I haven’t given up.”

I felt a bead of sweat drop onto my neck. It sizzled, burning a tiny part of my fur off. A few stray hairs flitted towards the ground before turning to ash. If this weren’t a dream, I’d probably have been concerned, but as it was, it would take a tantabus to rattle me.

“You all right there, Sis?” I asked, smiling up at the slightly taller caticorn.

“Y—yeah, I’m fine…”

“Do you know about the quarrel, Diane?” House asked.

“No, not at all! Why?”

For the briefest of moments, the city surrounding us vanished, replaced by a vast, endless, familiar desert.

Don’t let her know! Don’t let her know! Don’t let her know! Diane’s voice echoed in my head.

Auburn and House turned to us, confused.

Hey, neat! Look at me I’m psychic! House thought.

Get out of my head! I demanded.

“So, are you sure you don’t know anything?” House asked, uncharacteristically insistent.

“What I meant is that I know about a Quarrel, but it’s probably not the quarrel you’re looking to solve. Sorry.”

It almost sounds like she’s talking about…

My train of thought was interrupted by the other train’s change of momentum. The gelatin wobbled a bit as we came to a screeching halt, but we were no worse for wear. I felt a squeezing sensation that I would have imagined what being inside a toothpaste tube would feel like. No sooner had I thought it than four pores appeared, ejecting the four of us onto the hardwood floor.

What the?

“Oh thank Celestia! Reinforcements,” said Trusty Stead, who was dressed in a suit. “There’s no time to lose! We’re down one point with five seconds left in the fourth quarter. We were doing so well, but the Monstars started giving real hard fouls and now all of our players are injured. We need some ponies to stand in or else Equestria will… Equestria will—”

“Equestria will what?” I asked, humoring him. After witnessing real stakes in a dream, I doubt anything could get me invested in dream basketball.

“Equestria Will be completely unaffected!”

“Come again?”

“There are no stakes at all. It’s just a friendly match, but we really want to win!”

I rolled my eyes.

“Hurry! We summoned a retired NBA superstar to bail us out—well, truth be told, we were the ones who bailed him out from clear last place in that celebrity golf tournament, but I digress, we’ll still forfeit if we can’t field five players.”

“Neato. I’ve never played human basketball before,” said House.

I looked between to and then to our opponents, who were gargantuan cartoonish creatures.

Yeah, that seems like a fair fight…

“Hey, Trusty, is there any reason why you’re not playing instead of us?” I asked. “Your height is at least within three feet of their smallest player’s.”

“They let me come in as a player coach, but I fouled out three minutes into the fourth. Besides you’re already suited up to go!”
We took a look at ourselves. We all were wearing filly-sized jerseys and a single pair of sneakers, as illogical as that was.

Auburn preened. “I do say I approve of this look.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait to play!” House cheered.

I looked back at Diane, who had been quiet. “You don’t have any comment?”

She shrugged. “What’s there to say?”

“Fair enough,” I conceded.

Trusty shoved the basketball in my hooves. “Anyhow, since Ditzy Doo had to leave due to injury, and the Monstars have chosen you to shoot the foul shots, River.”

“Fine, let’s get this over with.”

I stepped to the free throw line, and as we took our positions the ridiculous height mismatch really set in. Even my tall human teammate was dwarfed by his matchup. Sighing, I took one dribble and tossed the ball at the hoop.

It went through with a satisfying swish.

The minotaur referee tossed the ball back to me and once more I dribbled it and aimed before tossing up another shot.

Wait a minute, I’ve never done this before. Why am I so confiden—

CLANG!

Sure enough, I failed to win us the game. Yet, somehow, miraculously, inconceivably even, House Keeper managed to box-out the blue monster with the unibrow and skyed into the air to grab the rebound.

“All right! WAIT! House! What are you doing!?” I shouted

“Yay! We win!” She cheered, dribbling away from the basket.

“No, House, we’re tied!” Diane shouted. “A free throw is worth one. One! I’m not sure how I know that, come to think of it.”

“Feed the post!!” Our human teammate urged as the monstars quintuple-teamed him.

“What does that mean?” House asked.

“It means give the big guy the ball,” I answered tersely.

With the last seconds running down, House obeyed and somehow got him the ball.

He jumped in the air, five pairs of arms flailing out at him, the ball caught on fire, and he threw itl down with a thunderous almighty slam.

A shockwave rippled down the court as the four of us were sent flying towards the wall on the other side of the gym. Glass shattered and the court caught fire, and for about three seconds the entire arena looked like it was going through a miniature supernova.

Hacking, and rubbing the dust out of my eyes, I struggled to make sense of what had happened. When the smoke had finally cleared, I could just make out five scorched monsters on the ground and a tall figure heading towards the exit.

“Throwing down a Chaos Dunk in a exhibition game? That’s hardly sportsmanlike,” Trusty said, coughing.

“I told you, Ernie, I ain’t no role model.”

“Who’s Ernie?’ Trusty asked, confused.

I would have gawked more at what I had just witnessed, but then the roof caved in, apparently killing everypony still in the building.

I jolted awake.

Well that got strange real fast.

Domestic Anchor briefly pondered the apple in front of her before briskly chopping it into thin slices. It was a strange exercise whenever she thought about it, but for a race as prosperous as theirs sentimentality had a place. It would make logical sense to have a machine do all the cooking, but just like a hand-painted masterpiece, there was a premium on home-cooked meals.

If nothing else it was a status symbol. Conditioning one’s highest ranking mate to be a housewife was something a pauper could never dream of. Honestly, such things were not even in her position to ponder, but quiet reflection was the one vice Domestic allowed herself—the one thing they couldn’t take away from her.

The foal strapped to her back was crying, but he would have to learn that it wouldn’t get him anything in their world. Her last son had learned that lesson quickly, and he promised to be a prodigy who would surely make a great leader someday, maybe even succeeding his father. As a mother she should have been proud, yet…

Domestic sighed. What did I do to deserve this?

She had suspected all along that the mar—females of the world weren’t happy. One of her station had had all the best information, yet she had failed to take action. Now, every day played out with karmic vengeance. For turning a blind eye to the quiet tragedy half the world lived through every day, she was made to pay by bearing that burden herself.

As she let the high-grade synthetic meat simmer in the pan in front of her, she turned her attention to her protruded abdomen. Exactly how many foals had she borne for her husband? Honestly, she had long since lost count after a few centuries. That was her lot in life now as the CEO’s exclusive mate. She hoped that this one too would be a son. Seeing her daughters turn into inoffensive, compliant ladies grew more painful each and every time.

She heard the change in air pressure as the doors opened behind her.

“Mommy! Mommy! I had a really fun dream. I got to play that human sport we learned about in defeated cultures class with the dream fillies. And then—then you wouldn’t believe it! I almost found out about the quarrel!”

Inside, Domestic was beaming. Most of her daughters had given in to their fate by age five, but House Keeper still got reprimanded on a daily basis. As a mother she couldn’t be prouder.

“Child, you know better than to use the word “fillies” at your age. Besides, you are not scheduled to meet with me this morning,” Domestic scolded with little vigor. “You must eat in your room and get ready for the beautician.”

House scoffed. “Yeeessss, Mother.”

Stay the course, Child. For us too, it’s all or nothing.

Author's Note

You lot were spared the treat of even more meaningless crossovers. I was originally going to have our dream friends go through a couple of scenarios as I developed House and Auburn, but I realized i) I couldn't keep my hands off Japanese things and ii)it was generally pointless.

So I settled for the whiplash at the end of the dream sequence. It saves me the trouble of writing a Space Jam crossover outright and lets me use the only real "joke" I had ready for it :derpytongue2: .

The play is next.

Chapter 33

The rest of the week passed in fairly predictable fashion. Most notably, I finally managed to convince Pink Diamond to take the paper bag off her head halfway through Wednesday. Even so, she avoided eye contact with most ponies for the rest of the week. And it certainly didn’t help that Annuity’s group never missed an opportunity to reference Tadfoals. I tried to point out that they knew an awfully lot about the books, but apparently the series was universally loved by foals under ten.

“River, would you come here please?” Fizzle prompted that Friday at last recess. Several foals giggled at me apparently being in trouble. A few even stuck around to see Fizzle mete out punishment, but she shooed them out.

This can’t be anything good.

Confirming my suspicions, she shoved a mostly blank piece of parchment in my face—my Cutie Mark poem. “Care to explain this?”

“I—isn’t it clear?” I asked somewhat timidly. “I don’t have a real cutie mark, so I can’t do the poem. I tried to come up with something, but nothing came to mind.”

“No cutie mark? Really? Well then, what’s that?” she asked condescendingly, pointing at my flank.

“This? It’s a fake. Princess Celestia made it for me, so I would fit in better. She was worried about me being teased.”

Fizzle took a moment to consider this before voicing her confusion. “But, it’s not unheard of for a foal as young as you are not to have a cutie mark. Squirt didn’t have his for the longest time. You wouldn’t have been alone.”

I shrugged. “I just went along with it. I knew I probably wouldn’t get my cutie mark anytime soon—maybe not ever.” I realized that I had a massive hole in my explanation to plug, so I went to work quickly. “I didn’t want to disappoint you—oh, and I didn’t want my secret to get out either.” I said trying to say as sincerely as I could.

Fizzle smirked. “Nice try, but I’m not going to overlook that you waited until turning in the assignment to tell me. You do know that I prepared alternate assignments for Beakington and Jill, right?”

I swallowed hard. Is she going to make me do two cutie mark poems? Write another song?

“So… What do you think your punishment should be, River?”

That was the last thing I had wanted her to ask.

I laughed nervously. “No sugar for a week?” I tried.

Fizzle gasped and hugged me suddenly. “Poor child, is that how you were brought up?! No, malnourishment should never be a punishment.”

Fizzle smiled. “Normally I would make you stay after class to write a make-up poem. However…” Fizzle hoofed me a paper. My eyes popped when they encountered what lay at the top of the page.

The paper was my career day report. In blue ink circled and underlined was my first ever A—an A+ even. Granted, on Rhod this grade didn’t exist, and praise was rare in general, but this didn’t detract from what I was feeling at all. I think I may have nearly cried. I had thought I would forever be a C+ student in Equestria.

“In view of your excellent career day write-up, I’ll give you a little more time to work on a make-up assignment.”

I finally lifted my gaze from the paper. “I don’t understand. This must be a mistake.”

“No, you did a really good job,” Fizzle said matter-of-factly. “You really learned a lot from watching Princess Celestia. Even more impressive were your thoughts on how she ruled. They were original and distinctly you. I’m really proud of you, River, you’ve come a long way.”

I nodded weakly. I was happy, even though it should have meant very little to me. “Thank you” was all I could manage.

“But still, I can’t exactly let you not do an assignment. What should I have you do for a make-up… hmm…” Fizzle said tapping her chin.

“I could write a poem on Squirt’s cutie mark instead?” I joked.

“Sure. You do that. Give it to me sometime next week, okay?”

My jaw dropped. Not just because she had actually taken the suggestion, but because of how well I had come out of the situation. A poem on Squirt’s cutie mark would be monumentally easier than writing about myself in any fashion.

“Wait a second—” I said, against my better judgment. “Wouldn’t it be rude to interpret Squirt’s cutie mark?”

Fizzle smiled mischievously. “That didn’t stop you before with your song.”

My pursed my lips as I realized. No wonder she didn’t like it..

“Enjoy recess, River.”

“Oh sure… thank you.”

I stood in the door frame with a stupid grin on my face.

A dodgeball then pelted me in the face.

It turned out that this hurts quite a bit more when your head is smaller than the ball.

“Sorry, River!” Zap shouted, scurrying to recover the ball.

The smile I wore quickly returned though, my muzzle still throbbing.

“All right, colts and fillies. This is the main debate chamber of the House of Ponies,” our tour guide said as we entered a large room with the sort of tiered seating that might be seen at a sports facility. The wood interior was of a variety I couldn’t place, but it had an impressive sheen to it. Each station was adapted to accommodate sitting or standing.

“Ponies from all over are chosen by their constituents. Does anypony know how many congressponies there are?”

New Moon raised her hoof and was immediately called on. “One-hundred twenty-three.”

“Very good. Now, you’ll notice that the room is divided into two sections. Although there are eleven political parties represented, the room is divided into caucuses instead. Ponies of the same party usually stick together, but each pony chooses to sit on the left side if they are leaning towards a nay-vote and the right if they are leaning towards a yea-vote.”

“I have a question,” said Perfect Cover.

“Absolutely” the perky tour guide mare replied.

“Why are there are only two sides? My mom always says that there are as many views as there are ponies.”

“Good question!” The guide responded with effusive enthusiasm. “While your mom is right, there’s no such thing as a maybe vote in the House of Ponies—or as it’s sometimes referred to, the HoP!”

A few of the exchange ponies laughed at this.

“Can you play bunny tag in the HoP?” Monocle asked.

“I don’t know what that is, actually,” the guide said. But for now, let’s move onto what’s important. For starters, what does the HoP actually do?”

There was a confused silence that persisted for several moments.

“Don’t they make laws?” Hail Stone offered.

The mare smiled. “Well, that’s true in the broadest sense, but not all laws are made by the HoP. For instance, the body of criminal law is usually decided by the princesses. It doesn’t end there, though. The HoP attempts to codify what the princesses have decided in the past. It doesn’t decide what’s against the law, but rather, it legislates regarding legal definitions and what penalties will be for breaking the law. Likewise, the HoP doesn’t usually decide what to spend money on, but they can create new taxes or otherwise alter how revenue is generated by the Equestrian government.”

I could see looks of confusion on the faces of the foals. I suspected my expression looked similar. Did the HoP make laws or not? It seemed like there were a lot of messy details as to what its role really was.

The mare kept talking, apparently oblivious to our lack of complete understanding. “That’s not even mentioning the most lawmaking role of the HoP. Can anypony tell me what that is?”

I immediately had an idea pop into my head. It took me a second to believe it, but the image of the concept quickly crystallized. Before I knew what I was doing, I raised my hoof.

“Yes!” the mare said, very pleased with my participation.

“Do the princesses tell the HoP when to make statutes?”

“Very good! Specifically, when there is a dispute the princesses hear, they usually interpret the law as it stands, informed with their incredible ethical foundation. However, when the facts are too far outside of the law as it’s written, it’s called a case of first impression. Basically, it means a new problem that the law doesn’t talk about. Rather than decide these cases of first impression, the princesses petition the HoP to write a new law to cover the novel scenario. To make this process work, however, the congressponies need to remain ignorant of the source of the dispute. If they know any ponies involved, or are otherwise invested in the matter they need to step away, or recuse themselves. The theory is that the congressponies should not know about the dispute they’re helping to decide.”

I looked at Trusty, who was acting as one of our chaperones, at the front of the pack. Even he was surprised at how talkative this mare was. She looked around at us and seemed to realize we weren’t as enthusiastic as she was.

She laughed nervously. “Sorry. I’m working on my political science degree, so I’m really passionate about this stuff.”

To my surprise, Cake Slice raised her hoof.

“Another question? All right!”

“Umm… we saw the princess hold court, and usually two ponies were arguing over something. They both wanted to make a good impression on the princess, so… umm… why wouldn’t they do that with the congressponies?”

“I’m not sure I understand the question…” the tour guide confessed.

Cake blushed. “Well, I guess what I’m trying to say is what happens if those ponies try to talk to the congressponies to tell them about their problem? That wouldn’t seem very fair.”

The mare smiled and put a hoof on Cake’s withers. “I see. That’s a very good question, and it’s a problem the HoP encountered in the past. For that reason, it’s against the law to tell a congresspony about a controversy they will have a role in deciding.”

“Oh, sorry about the dumb question…”

“Not at all!”

The mare took a breath.

“Now, you may have noticed the abandoned building next door. That was the House of Nobleponies. Originally, the legislature was bicameral, but concerns about corruption and class privilege led to its abolition. While the House of Nobles was more richly furnished, the House of Common Ponies was large enough to host everypony and became simply the House of Ponies…”

Without any catalyst in particular, I came to the realization that I was hanging on every word. Initially, I thought it was the mare’s presentation, but she struck me as not much more than just a well-informed fanfilly.

Is there something in the water here, or something? I shouldn’t be this interested!

The rest of the weekend served to improve my already good mood. The fun I had playing soccer during that Saturday’s practice was more understandable. It simply felt good to be good at something for once in Equestria. Although I was still behind those who had experience, I was head over hooves better than the beginners at least.

It was such a good time that I nearly forgot that I was supposed to be there for Squirt, who was having a real hard time of it. I saw him trip over the ball on several occasions, and some of the other foals started to tease him for it. This probably bothered me more than Squirt, and I rushed to his defense.

“What’s wrong, Lua? Do you liiiiike him? Hmmm?” One of the older fillies said.

I would have blushed, but I managed to calculate in a nanosecond that this would have been as good as an admission of guilt and kept my complexion free of red.

“As if!” I hissed. “Come on, Squirt, we’re doing ball-handling drills until you get the hang of it.”

“What are you? The coach?” Squirt snarked.

“Uhh… yeah… sorry. I got a little carried away there.”

Gradually, the crowd encircling us dispersed and spread out across the sprawling green field. Seeing that Squirt was not receptive at the moment to encouragement, I decided to practice on my own during the remainder of our half-hour lunch break. I realized if I wasn’t careful I would forget my mission and end up pursuing this new hobby for its own sake. I smiled to myself a second later, accepting that this wouldn’t be such a bad outcome.

At the end of the practice, Blue Horizon challenged me to a shootout, and it so happened that I was in the mood for it. In a testament to how hard both of us were trying, I only got three out of ten in; Blue Horizon made two. As I got the winning goal by her, the filly slammed her left hoof to the ground.

“Curses!” Horizon hissed. “Go ahead: gloat.”

I shrugged. “That’s not really my cup of tea.”

“But it’s what you’re supposed to do,” she whined.

“Okay, umm… haha I beat you. Nanananana I’m better than you,” I said as flatly as I possibly could.

Nevertheless, this seemed to rattle the unicorn.

“You know neither of us have really practiced as the goalie, right? I just guessed right one more time than you did,” I consoled.

“No, you won fair and square. But this is the last time you’ll beat me. Smell you later, Lua!”

Why does she always say that? I wondered, dumfounded.

Compared to the fun time that I had at soccer, the Junior Royal Guards was somewhat bland by comparison. I told Bulwark about Annuity’s birthday party, and to my surprise, she had actually been there. I didn’t know how she secured an invite, but she had had a good time. Apparently we had just never run into each other.

We were doing drills together when the topic of my “secret” about my gender came up.

“How many ponies know you’re a girl now?” She asked, a bit surprised I think. “Cause I don’t know if you can count it as a secret if that many know it.”

“Sure it’s a secret! I-it’s just an open one—now at least,” I grumbled.

“Gotta be honest. I’m kinda disappointed I’m not your only confidant anymore. Was sort of nice having a secret between the two of us. Y’know, something special that just we shared.”

“Well, it’s not like it’s the only reason we’re friends.” I said reflexively. “Would you like to come to the library with me after this?”

“Thanks but I can’t, I have some chores I have to do.”

Oddly enough, that disappointed me. “Well, I’ll see you at the play still, right?”

“Yep! I’m looking forward to it. Feeling nervous?”

Knowing Bulwark would be there made the play seem somewhat less troublesome.

The castle library was truly an amazing place. Comprising three storeys of books, its selection seemed endless. That Sunday afternoon, I found an entire section dedicated to engineering textbooks. Out of curiosity, I tried to read a few pages of one, but the level of difficulty was beyond my understanding.

I plopped the contents of my saddlebags on the checkout counter, and the librarian pony’s jaw dropped.

“You’ve already gone through all of that?” he asked in disbelief.

“Sure did. It’s not like any of these books were especially long after all,” I replied dismissively. “Anyway, I’d like to check-out all of these.”

“I like your enthusiasm, child, but the limit’s eight.”

My ears drooped on their own; I always hated it when they did that.

“Oh, well, that’s probably for the best. I’m right here after all, so I can just come back when I’m done. It’ll probably be a while, since it’s not like I have time to read all day.”

Wordlessly, I narrowed my selection down to eight. I was about two minutes into my deliberation before an unpleasant thought occurred to me.

What am I? Pink Diamond picking her camp activities?

That was enough motivation to push me into a spot decision.

“Excellent choices. You can leave the rest here; it’s what they pay me for. By the way, if you haven’t seen the posters, we’re running a book battle game. Compete against your friends to see who can read more. Get your guardian to sign off on your progress and win some neat prizes.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to bother Star with this.” And Celestia even less… “Besides, I don’t have any friends,” I added for good measure.

“That’s not true Alice. What about Thaumaturgical Spectacle or Squirt?“ asked a familiar voice.

“Oh, hi Twilight,” I said, disinterested. “They wouldn’t be interested is what I mean.”

Thaumaturgical might be.

Suddenly conscious of the full bookbag, I tried to quickly sneak away without Twilight seeing. And, naturally, my bookbag fell open, spilling its contents and making me feel dumb for even harboring hope of a perfect escape.

“Wow! That’s a lot of books. They limited you to eight, did they?”

“Yeah, it is a bit much. I may have grabbed some by mistake. I think I’ll put a couple back.”

“No,” Twilight insisted, “you made some good choices.” She paused for a moment and picked up a red one to examine. “Romance? I didn’t think you would like that sort of thing.”

“What!? I thought it was historical fiction!” I was instantly regretting making up excuses, as I genuinely wasn’t fibbing this time.

I turned to the librarian. “Do you know where I can put this back?”

“It’s not a bad thing, Alice. It’s actually a really good book. In my opinion, the historical elements overshadow the romance part of it anyway.”

“How do you know that?”

Twilight blushed. ”I may not be as much of a romantic as Rarity, but I’m a mare too. I still dream of finding a special somepony of my own someday.”

Just as I was about to pull away, Twilight gave me a million book recommendations before touching a nerve with an accurate assessment: “I’m so happy that you’ve given yourself permission to explore. I had a feeling reading wasn’t encouraged on your homeworld.”

“Thanks for the recommendations, Twilight, but I’d rather figure it out on my own. We’re different ponies after all.” I replied, focusing to remember as many of her recommendations as I could.

Twilight looked disappointed for a moment, but then smiled. “It’s good you’re going your own way,” she said.

By the look on her face there was more she was going to say. I scrutinized her for clues.

“Is something the matter, Alice?”

I averted my gaze. “Well, it looked like you wanted to say something else.”

“I was going to, but you probably wouldn’t like it.”

That stoked the fire of my curiosity. “Go on: tell me.”

She looked away.

“Well, it’s just that you’re still you, but with all the activities you’ve been up to, it’s almost like you’re a normal filly.”

This stung slightly, and once more, I looked away. “That wasn’t what I expected.”

“I’m sorry,” Twilight quickly added. “But It doesn’t have to be a bad thing. I mean, if you’re enjoying life in Equestria, that can only be a good thing.”

“I like to think I’m still unorthodox. That’s part of the reason why I hang out with Squirt.”

Twilight smiled. “What I meant was that you’re finding your own way. Carving out your own individuality like foals your age do. I probably should have said foal from the start rather than filly.”

I still didn’t have a response to that.

“Oh no, I’m late!” Twilight gasped. “I’ve got a meeting with the professor. She’s got some new theories on how to preserve your memories and personality.”

I rolled my eyes. “Shouldn’t I be a part of this meeting?”

Twilight nodded. “Well, you could if you wanted to, but most of the discussion is high magic theory. Besides, these are mainly backup plans; I still trust Luna’s idea the most. Well, see you later, Alice.”

She was almost out of shouting distance before I realized something rather trivial.

“Hey, Twilight!”

She turned in place in the awkward fashion quadrupeds were stuck with. “Yes, River?”

“If you were on such a tight schedule, why’d you come here and not check anything out.”

Twilight smiled. “I just love being here. It’s almost like I can feel the melting pot of ideas by just being around books. I used to live in a library. I guess I miss it.”

She bid me farewell once more, and I was left pondering what she had told me. In truth, the last question was just to momentarily distract me from what she had said.

A normal filly, huh? That’s the last thing I thought I’d ever be.

My head was throbbing. Residual sparks of magic slowly fell from my horn, lazily fluttering to the floor like scraps of paper. I still found it weird that I could see my own horn if I looked up. It was strange that it was this thought that occupied me, but I couldn’t figure out why it didn’t bother me more. I supposed I had it covered up most of the time, but it still didn’t make sense to me.

“You… you did it!” Teaching Moment cheered, clapping his hooves together.

“Yeah… I guess I did,” I said faintly, as if realizing it myself for the first time. The resonance method was rather draining when coupled with the magic jammer, so it felt like something of a pyrrhic victory at first. It took a second, but a smile did come to my face—I had done it.

I sighed. “I still have a long way to go, though. I bet I won’t be able to do it again anytime soon.”

The stallion patted me on the back. “That’s okay. It’s just how it works. You do it once by accident, the next time comes a little easier, the third time even quicker and so on. You’ll be levitating objects around in no time at all!”

I took a deep breath. Look at that: more filly things—unicorn filly anyway.

As Twilight’s words echoed in my head, I continued coast through school week. There wasn’t too much to write home about: Fizzle’s enthusiasm wasn’t shared, Annuity and Pestle argued over who got to be Quarrel’s head, Pish and Posh were so quiet I forgot they existed. Just the usual. Though we tried, the AAA was unable to stop Annuity from continually poking at Pink Diamond’s emotional wounds. I felt we failed and resolved to put more attention and effort into it in the future.

And before I knew it, the day of the play had arrived.

Backstage in my princesswear, I shuffled my hooves as I nervously waited for my grand entrance. Peering past the curtain at a carefully calculated angle, I spotted Celestia, Luna and Twilight in the middle of the community theater’s seating. They had tried to make a subtle entrance, but given their stature as alicorns—literally in Celestia’s case—they were met with effusive bows and general deference. The ponies in the front row offered their seats to the princesses, and Celestia had to use all her skill in diplomacy to turn them down. Nonetheless, to their royal chagrin, the ponies around the three of them still spread out to give them an abundance of room.

I had expected the three of them; whom I hadn’t was Star Chart. Sitting next to Twilight, the pegasus mare was wearing a nice black dress and even had her mane up. Although I was sincerely flattered by this, it left me wondering if that other stallion, Midnight Oil, was in charge of me in order for Star be a spectator. With a quick turn of her head, Star almost locked eyes with me, so I quickly ducked back behind the curtain.

Suddenly self-conscious, I tuned back in to the action on stage. Windy Skies and Silver Lining were giving it their all. In a way they were lucky—for having small parts, for getting their moment in center stage, and also for the front-loaded nature of their parts. In a way, I envied them, but honestly it would have been embarrassing for ponies to come out solely to see me in a small role.

Windy and Lining were doing great, but I was mostly focused on my own anxiety. I had fought in a war, but I never had performed. I didn’t have any comparable experiences, as anyone not a designated leader on Rhod was expected to quietly blend in and do their job.

As our entrance stage-left drew near, Zephyr Zap appeared at my side. She looked fantastic in her lunar regalia. I had used my real horn, stubby as it was, as an anchor for a larger prop horn so I wasn’t sure how her fake horn was affixed, but it looked great. Going the extra mile, Zap had dyed her wings and mane blue. It may have been a misguided effort, however, as this emphasized how much the mock-up of Luna’s cutie mark clashed with the rest of Zap’s yellow coat.

“Nervous?” Zap whispered. “I know I am.”

“You?” I asked in mock disbelief. “You’re usually the center of attention. How can you be nervous?”

Zap forced a laugh. “I haven’t always been so outgoing. Believe it or not, it was Annuity that helped me a bit in that regard.”

“Annuity’s one thing, but I find it very hard to believe that you weren’t naturally gregarious.”

Zap smiled. “Ask Thaumaturgical if you don’t believe me. Oh! That’s our cue!”

I nearly jumped out of my fur at the suddenness. I shook like a wet dog, aiming to regain my composure, before trotting on stage beside Zap.

“Dearest Sister, how hath the journey treated thee?” Zap asked.

I took a deep breath and projected as best as I could. “The journey weighs more heavily on my mind than my body, little sister.”

“Perchance, art thou concerned with the matter of castigation?” Zap enunciated.

Wow. She’s really getting into the role. I have to try harder myself.

“You know me well indeed. By my very nature, I am inclined to forgive. Retribution will only cause the wounds of war to linger.”

“I understand thee, but other factors compel action! Our ponies demand decisive action, as many of their friends and herdmates have lost their lives.”

“Our ponies must come first, absolutely, but we mustn’t forget the griffins feel the same pain—loved ones lost in a conflict few desired. Compounding this with sanctions will only cause enmity to fester.”

I then began my first boring monologue, on export tariffs. It still struck me as an odd topic to be in a work of drama. I tried to sound interested as I voiced the introduction. Just before boredom set in, however, I noticed something strange.

Huh? What’s Quarrel doing here? He isn’t supposed to show up until later.

I tried to ignore the three fillies underneath the costume, but this proved extremely difficult. As my speech continued, Quarrel’s head with Annuity in it climbed up on me and curled around my neck. If it weren’t incredibly awkward, it might have been somewhat comfortable.

“Umm… although tariffs may have a protectionism effect in many situations, they—bwwware vwery evbective in promoting national eckwonomies.” I shot Annuity a quick look, but she kept the squeeze on my cheeks. Still, I tried not to let my royal composure falter and did my best to ignore Bubble Bauble’s snickering.

I wanted to break character and throw her off. I thought better of it, however, when I locked eyes with Bulwark, who had managed to get a seat in the front row. Granted, tickets weren’t exactly in demand—at least not until someone leaked Celestia’s plans to attend—but her effort still meant something to me.

That’s right: Bulwark actually enjoyed reading the play—the unabridged version at that! If anyone can enjoy this, it’s her.

“Furthermore, the tariffs will encourage our nations to branch out in industries in which we have grown excessively interdependent. This will not be a permanent state, as I sincerely believe that when free trade resumes, everyone will be better off with overall increased output. I am not proposing a blanket tariff, which I believe would be a mistake, because each of our nations have specialties; however…”

I heard the audience laugh. I would have looked side-to-side but kept my eyes on the speech. Annuity had acquired a feather from somewhere and used it to lightly tickle my nose. Sneezing as a pony was strangely a lot more powerful than I was used to. This time was no different, despite my efforts to stifle it. The gathered delegates tried to stay in character, but Mortar Strike ended up letting out a slight chortle. It spread to the others, resulting in a low hum of laughter resonating throughout the theater.

“Furthermor—hey!”

This time, any attempt to limit the audience’s outward amusement at my plight failed completely, as the strangeness of Annuity lifting up Quarrel’s head to blow in my ear struck a funny nerve.

I shook my head, disoriented. The audience laughed, thinking it was part of the show.

“My you ponies can sure be verbal,” Featherven said.

The stage directions indicated for him to interrupt me with that line at any moment he chooses, but his timing was much appreciated.

“Indeed, I much prefer a griffin’s directness,” Granite added.

Fortunately, my salvation appeared in the form of Fizzle’s head popping out from behind the curtain. Her orange magic enraptured the three fillies with the draconequus costume they were wearing, and she rolled the resulting ball of fillies off the stage. My eyes met hers and I nodded my thanks. With my experience with magic, I could appreciate how difficult that must have been to do.

“Umm… I hope you all will find this matter as compelling as do we,” I said meekly

Oh hey, that might be verbal irony. Maybe Fizzle did teach me something.

Turning the page in front of me, I launched into the most boring part of what was already a boring part. Celestia enumerated the amounts of each proposed tariff, and provided analysis supporting the proposal. It struck me as mostly filler.

The next scene featured me and the Eggnostic delegate. It was a simple bit of dialogue I felt fairly comfortable with. As I acted on autopilot, it dawned on me for the first time how polished and perfect every line from Celestia was. I got the sense that she would have to have had a team of writers following her around to sound like this.

I also began to appreciate some of the flaws of this play for our purposes. For one, there really weren’t enough parts for twenty-five students. As a result, Blueberry and Raspberry Citrus, for instance, were relegated for playing an assortment of tiny parts, such as the griffin servant.

Nevertheless, I tried to get into character as much as I could for this scene. When I started trying to genuinely react to Granite Hammer’s performance as the griffin delegate, I realized that she was trying her hardest too. She sounded logically convinced by what I was saying regarding soldiers’ welfare, but nevertheless managed to color her assent with her dislike of me.

Or is she acting? I know she’s part of Annuity’s group, but I don’t think I’ve done anything to make her dislike me personally.

I briefly felt ashamed for caring whether or not a filly liked me, but that was a slippery slope I was already descending, so I decided to let sleeping dogs lie for now. The scene ended with Quarrel swooping in and swapping out the proposal I left the Eggnostic delegate. With a single change, a mostly equitable division of funds became overwhelmingly favorable to the ponies.

I had a moment to take a breath, as it was then Zap’s turn to negotiate with the Featherven delegate. Zap and Daybreak’s discussion essentially devolved into a shouting match. Some overt threats were exchanged and the alicorn and griffin nearly came to blows.

Watching it play out, the scene felt fresher than the other ones so far. The moment I asked why I had an answer: we had rehearsed this scene the least and had discussed it even less. Naturally, that only raised more questions.

We did do Celestia’s scene with the Eggnostic quite a bit, so what gives?

The scenes mostly paralleled one another, so perhaps the playwright was just being dense. They both ended in Quarrel swapping the proposal out and the griffins were mad either way. It made little difference whether or not Celestia got a superficially better outcome.

A half-formed epiphany later, my eyes darted to the real versions of the alicorn sisters. Celestia wore a guilty expression. More telling, however, was a tearful Luna.

Celestia speaks in flawless Equish; Luna uses archaisms. Celestia is benevolent and all-knowing; Luna is pugnacious at times. Celestia is beloved by all; Luna is… less so. I think I know what’s going on here.

For the third time, however, I had to ask why.

This time, I had no answer.

Next came the first confrontation scene. In my opinion, it added a lot of credibility to the play. Whereas elsewhere the griffins were portrayed as a bit stupid, here they actually believed the sisters made an innocent typographical mistake—although the one Luna irritated had to be persuaded. I don’t know if it was part of a devious ploy, or just Quarrel’s incompetence, but the deer delegation portrayed by Style and Gilded Acres had received a correct version of proposal.

It was actually Gildeus who understood that the deer were being a bit timid about making their voices heard. While the deer might be offended by this, I respected that the playwright knew minotaurs could show such insight.

Then how did he get Luna so wrong?

“We are humbled by your forgiveness and hope we can extend the same to our poor scribes. Cutie mark expertise lends not to absolute mastery.”

That sort of rhymes but not quite. Is there a word for that?

The scene having mostly ended, Squirt, dressed amusingly similar to a ninja, wheeled in and rolled up the backdrop and, with the griffins’ help, rolled the conference table away.

“Then should nothing transpire we will reconvene on the morn’,” said Luna.

I then got another break from the action. It was Little Pinion and Beakington’s turn to have the spotlight. The two of them exchanged some concerns about the griffin state ceding territory. As they put it, they didn’t know if they would have a home to go back to when the war ended.

I hadn’t thought much of this scene, but seeing it acted out made it suddenly poignant.

“I… I can relate,” I said softly.

“What’s that, Sister?” asked Zap playfully.

“Oh, nothing.”

We then returned to the stage to give the princesses’ perspective on the drawing of the borders. Celestia and Luna are together in a room, and a page comes in to deliver some local rumors. Of course, Quarrel was the one behind these rumors, which were actually leaked information acquired by the draconequus. Raspberry Citrus played the page, and this chain of events was represented by Annuity whispering into Raspberry’s ear.

The interesting part came next. After the page reveals that there was internal conflict amongst the griffins about which territories to give up, Luna chimes in and proposes a divide and conquer strategy. Hearing that the griffins were under political pressure from multiple clans to preserve their respective capitals, Equestria, with patience could reach a favorable arrangement. I had thought Luna was primarily a foil for perfect Celestia. Yet, despite her initial reticence about the ethics of it, Celestia agrees that a weakened griffin state would help ward off future conflicts and might actually be the most attractive outcome for the griffins.

Quarrel’s trap set, the princesses played the negotiations masterfully. Reading about the conference I had thought the princesses fleeced the griffins, but they did nothing more than articulate the advantages of their proposal. Even the testy Featherven delegate found little to object to.

However, it was only when the deal was virtually done did Lord Torch, a nominal ally of the griffins during the war, dropped a bombshell regarding the ponies’ inside information regarding the griffins. The abridged version of the play had cut a scene where Quarrel had relayed this information while disguised as a young dragon clerk. This was probably a good thing because Thaumaturgical’s dragon costume had been difficult to make already, so I had no idea how we would have fit one over the Quarrel overlay.

“Is this true, Lord Torch?” Daybreak asked, itching for a fight.

“Have I given you any reason to doubt me?” Thaumaturgical bellowed.

He may not have many lines, but he’s really giving it his all.

“Tch! The indignity! I will not stand for this!” said Mortar Strike, pounding the table.

“Gentlemen, please calm down,” said Luna.

“Unlike you ponies we griffins do not stoop to such tactics. You can hardly be the voice of reason when traipsing around the shadows,” said Granite.

“Our page merely reported a rumor, which we were convinced was quickly becoming common knowledge. If it wasn’t supposed to get out, we apologize, but we simply had no way of knowing. It was never our intent to pull the wool over your eyes; we just tried to do what was the best for all of us. I, for one, still believe in the consensus we reached, and I sincerely hope you will accept our apology,” I pleaded.

“Deal? What deal?” said Granite. “Because that deal died the moment you ponies resorted to espionage.”

“Please do not let a mere misunderstanding prejudice all the progress we have made today,” Luna pleaded.

At this time, Annuity and the others entered stage-right and weaved in between the various delegates.

Come on, Fizzle. I know Quarrel’s supposed to roam free, but don’t just let Annuity do whatever she wants.

Thaumaturgical stood up in his chair to maximize his height for dramatic effect. Of course, this effectively did very little, but somehow it still sort of worked. “My patience is thinning, little ponies. Our support of your adversaries may have colored your perception of us, but we bear you no ill-will. However, dishonesty is something for which we nobledragons have no tolerance.”

Zephyr Zap’s wings jutted out, and I thought I even saw a hackle rise. “Dishonesty!? If anything, we have navigated masterfully through illusions and deceit, and you dare accuse us of being the dishonest ones?”

I rubbed Zap’s withers. “Sister, fall not into the pitfalls of pride. When faced with obstacles such as these, one’s mind must be as a tranquil stream, not a torrid, whitewater river.”

I looked down at my speech.

“Fellow delegates. I stand before you today as a representative of all ponykind. With that, I bear the bravery, the compassion and intellect, but also the blemishes, burdens and biases. My sister and I are not perfect ponies by any means.”

Quarrel squeezed between my chair and the table, tickling my nose with a feather. Although I closed my eyes and braced against the inevitable sneeze, it proved to be a false alarm.

“In good times and in bad, we are all citizens of the world. Each of us must do what we can to navigate our own challenges. I see today as a veritable microcosm of the trials and tribulations of the individual pony, dragon, griffin, deer and others. We mustn’t shy away from the challenges today brings, for our courageous citizens and soldiers have entrusted us with their hopes in the belief that we can channel their voice.” I looked down again to read. “Furthermore, add ⅔ cups vinegar and stir briskly for ten minutes, taking care not to—”

Had the audience not burst out in laughter, I wasn’t sure how quickly I would have realized what I was reading. In any event, what was now on the table in front of me was a recipe for Troughton hay dressing.

Annuity!

My face scrunched up.

“And… umm… the hopes of our citizens are very important—paramount, I mean. These hopes are the hopes of all ponies, griffins, minotaurs, deer, zebras, dragons, elk, yaks, treants, elves, coyotes and unicyclists. They are hopeful hopes that hope for what can be hoped for.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Annuity smirking beneath the draconequus head she was holding up.

I can’t let her win! But what to do?

I glanced at the audience members, who were wearing looks of confusion.

Clearing my throat, I decided to embrace the idea that had popped into my head. “Before continuing, I would like to take a moment to talk to you about friendship. Trite? Perhaps, but friendship is the steady hoof that guides the hearts of everyone. Friendship is both simple and profound. It is something born of happenstance between those of little familiarity with the world but can be difficult for the wisest of sages.”

Everyone at the conference table shot me strange looks.

“I propose that friendship can be conceptually understood in nine stages. The first: reliability. A friend you can rely on is a safety net in life. Metaphorically, it is someone you can trust to catch you when you fall—whether it be intentionally to foster the feeling of interdependence, or when one is struggling and needs a helping hoof. Of course, this extends beyond the obvious practical benefits of having a friend you can rely upon. It should be noted that knowing, in the back of one’s mind, that there is somepony there for you gives peace of mind. Thus, just by having such reliable ponies in one’s life improves the quality of one’s life, irrespective of the obvious tangible benefits of friendship.”

“Fourth: friendship can provide shared resources. These include both facts and knowledge, as well as second-degree connections and shared acquaintances …”

I turned to smile arrogantly at Annuity. I could do this all da—oh…

To my mild disappointment, the bronze filly was sound asleep under the draconequus costume. Popping out of the rear of filly conga line, Pestle Mix shook her head in disbelief. Her cool blue magic then enveloped the stolen cheat sheet and levitated it over the recipe before dropping it.

Smiling magnanimously at the audience, I rose a hoof to the ceiling. “But, I digress. The crystalized hopes of all beings are sacred gems that must inform our course of action. Will we tarnish them by lowering ourselves to accusations over frivolous mistakes and misunderstandings, or will we rise to occasion?”

And so, I went on, orating magnificently, but saying very little.

From there, I was in mostly familiar ground. The reveal of Quarrel’s meddling went off without a hitch. Pestle, Bubble and Annuity were in sync, and the three griffin delegates put on a great show of panic after shedding their griffin costumes and becoming ponies. The tension snowballed, and the other delegates made compelling cases for something to be done.

Finally, Luna and Celestia were alone for a moment.

“What ails you, Sister? The matter before us seems not complicated,” said Zap.

“Objectively you are correct, dearest sister. Still, a feeling of indebtedness to Quarrel persists,” I said.

“The others said it best: what once could be dismissed as trifling pranks constitute high crimes in wartime,” Zap responded.

“I know this well, but I cling still to happy memories. We’ve known Quarrel for so long. In good times and bad, he could always make us laugh. Recently, this has been valuable indeed, as it is we’ve had to say farewell to more friends than usual lately.”

Zap looked down. “I’m still mourning so many…”

“Indeed. Voluntarily parting with another is no easy matter,” I said with a long sigh. “Tell me: why do you think Quarrel did what he did today?”

“Certainly, no simple answer occurs to us. Quarrel has always loved ponies—in a doting fashion, rather than a romantic sense. Maybe we look to him as baby bunnies look to us—small and huggable.”

“A rare perspective on those such as we,” I said, bittersweet. “In a few millennia, we will see over even the largest of stallions with ease.” I sighed. “I grow weary. Let us rest a short while under that tree.”

On cue, Pink Diamond waddled onto the stage in her tree costume. Several apples, which had been taped to her head, fell off as she took her position. Being short, I could actually manage to get underneath her branches. Zap, on the other hand, struggled.

Luna and I continued our conversation until the fateful apple drop.

“I’ve got it! We do not have to seal Quarrel!” I exclaimed. “We can—ow!”

A second apple had dropped unexpectedly on my head. Then a third.

Like I said: “OW!”

Four more apples dropped on my head. I looked up at Pink Diamond, who threw her front hooves up in apology. But when another one dropped, I realized she was not at fault. Naturally, I glared at Annuity. However, the filly, for the first time since I had known her, had an expression suggesting pristine, white innocence.

Okay, this is getting weird.

As if attempting to raise the ante, I then heard shrill, childish laughter.

Looking towards the crowd, I saw bit purses and loose change congregating into the air and drifting towards the stage. Following its trajectory to the nexus, I saw an unfamiliar, orange-maned filly wearing an all-too-familiar purple and green costume. The filly did a backflip as hundreds of bits flew into her saddlebags.

“MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! The Omnimetal Magnet works 100% as expected! Excellent. EXCELLENT!”

Celestia took to the air and lit her horn, but the aura dissipated, as if blown away in the wind. A look of genuine terror trespassed on the princess’s countenance before she fell hard to floor, cushioned only by Luna.

“MWAHAHA! The OMM was just a warm-up. Introducing… FOAL’S PLAY!!!” the filly announced ham-handedly.

“Wha!? Who’s that?” Zephyr Zap asked, worried.

I shielded her with a foreleg, a token gesture that might have been comforting in different circumstances. Undeterred, Star and the small guard contingent present made a move on the stage, but a series of thuds was heard as they were stopped by what appeared to be an invisible wall.

“Hohohoho! With my Foal’s Play device, the magical aspects of adults are reduced to those of infants! And even foals with cutie marks will have difficulty—*oof!* Hey! What gives!? Can’t you see I’m monologuing here? OWWW! Okay, stop! I give! I give! Foals these days...”

Pinning the filly who was obviously a transformed Maniacal Laughter to the floor, I pressed my hoof on her withers in triumph.

Aspects schmaspects. It does you squat against somepony that doesn’t rely on them.

I looked to the audience and flashed a winning grin, earning applause.

Star flew to the stage to confirm the barrier was gone and signalled others to follow her.

I was under the impression that were it not for the guard contingent taking to the stage to arrest the villain, the audience would have never known this wasn’t some bizarre addition to the play.

Without warning, the lights cut out. I heard a familiar mare’s laugh. I kept my pin on the filly Maniacal Laughter, but she started to really squirm.

The stage lights came back on all at once, complemented by the daylight now streaming in. Crouched in the doorway was an adult Maniacal Laughter.

“Indeed everypony it is I! No smoke and mirrors; nothing up my sleeve!”

What!? Then how?

I looked down to see a confused Windy Skies caught in my headlock.

“Ow… not so rough, River…”

That’s… impossible. I never let her go. There was no chance to…

“After her!” Luna ordered, causing all the guardsponies present to turn around and dash outside in pursuit.

“River, would you mind letting me go?” Windy Skies asked, chuckling.

“Oh, sure... “ I said, relieving the pressure.

A nervous murmur of activity persisted for a quarter of an hour after that. The play delayed, everypony waited for the news. Star had drawn the short straw and broke the news that not only had they failed to capture the villainess, but apparently the device was gone too.

Some of the more inexperienced guards waited nervously for the princesses to mete out punishment.

“All right, stand down,” Celestia said, defeated. “Let these foals have their day in the sun. The play must go on.”

The play slowly crawled back to life after five minutes. We repeated the apple drop and this time I was able to share my epiphany with the audience: we didn’t have to seal Quarrel away after all; we could find a suitable dimension for him where he could live in peace.

“But, Sister, we know little of other worlds,” Zap protested. “If we choose the wrong world; one without a force of Harmony, Quarrel could become a capricious tyrant. The alternative is to find a world devoid of magic entirely, but that would likely kill him.”

I put a foreleg around Zap’s neck, which was difficult, given the height difference I was suddenly noticing.

“Luckily I have a secret weapon. Now, I believe we’ll find him perusing texts at the Maresailles library.”

“Of course I can help you, Princess,” Stardust said flirtatiously, batting her eyelashes and whipping her tail.

“Y—you truly believe we can locate a world that has a high Harmony level? It sounds like more of a mathematical quandary than one that would lend itself to magic theory.”

I didn’t know why Stardust was playing the part of Star Swirl this way. Apparently Fizzle had okayed it, but in rehearsal Stardust had not been nearly as exaggerated in her portrayal.

“Absolutely, dearest Celestia. A humble servant though I be, this problem is nothing for me. Take this flute and give Quarrel the boot. The magic is much similar to this charm, which I’ve enchanted to keep you from harm.”

Zap accepted the flute, while Stardust draped the simple ruby pendant Bubble made over my neck.

Stardust shook her hips. “Your call I’ll always heed, ready to fill your every need.”

“Uh… yeah, thanks,” I said, forgetting my line.

I felt blood rushing to my head, my heart racing. What is up with her? She didn’t even wear the beard we made her.

The confrontation scene started off seriously, but Quarrel defused a lot of that tension by summoning the tickling tree. I didn’t know how she did it, but Pink Diamond seemed very knowledgeable about ponies’ tickle spots.

“Quarrel, do you understand the dire consequences of your unhinged actions? The days when you could be careless with your magic have long passed,” I declared, trying to ward off residual giggles.

“Unhinged? Carolus?” Quarrel picked some stuffing from an ear, “Am I a taxonomist, or a loose door? Or maybe a singing door?” the three fillies said in sync.

“Quarrel, what you wrought at the conference against the griffins—that can’t keep happening. You nearly started a war anew. I know you—in your own words—like it when things turn into other things, but transformation magic is so rare that it can be traumatic,” said Zap.

“What do you mean, little Luna? I thought those stuffy griffins could use a little fur-lough.”

“That pun doesn’t even make sense. Griffins already have fur on their lower bod—”

Zap was cut off by Quarrel’s laughter.

“I should know better than to put too much thought to what that one says,” Zap said, bashful.

I cleared my throat. “Quarrel, the truth is that transformation magic isn’t well-understood. We know from firsthoof experience that it is temporary, but most believe it to be like the gaze of a cockatrice: an ailment of indefinite duration.”

“I’ve met a cockatrice thrice, but never thought twice.”

“Quarrel, this is no laughing matter!” Zap bellowed.

“This is your final warning: If you cannot take things serious now, we shall not be able to trust you ever to be measured and rational.”

“You can definitely trust me to be measured, princesses! I’m eleven feet, nineteen inches long, seven-foot two inches standing. I wear a mare’s size seven on my right foot and a stallion’s five on my left. My bust, waist and hip measurements are—”

I sighed. Not all of my exasperation was even an act. Annuity and Pestle were trying their best to be annoying, but Bubble Bauble was a natural. And her voice was high-pitched and grating.

“Luna,” I prompted.

Zap blew into the flute, while I pulled out some spell tags with runes on them and surrounded the two of us. Behind the stage, nearly the entire unicorn portion of the class and Ms. Fizzle focused their magic on Quarrel. The costume overlay jumped into the air and the three fillies went flying in three separate directions. I briefly felt a painful tug on my withers, as somepony tried to pull me out of the way, but I still collided with Annuity horn-to-horn. I winced at the pain, despite the crumpling fake horn taking most of the impact.

Dizzy, I walked in place a bit before the tape gave way and I lost my cardboard alicorn horn entirely.

After that, I had a nagging headache and felt fatigued overall. I wanted to do Celestia’s part justice, but it was difficult to stay invested for the conclusion of the play. I was relieved to sign the Treaty of Maresailles and be done with it.

“Good job, River!” Zap chirped.

“Oh, thanks you too,” I replied, rubbing my horn underneath my mane while I thought nopony was looking.

I looked around, and my colleagues were still full of energy. They were complimenting each other’s performances and pointing out their favorite parts.

I smiled subtly.

Maybe there’s something to be said about being a normal filly for a while. Nice not to have the fate of a world on your shoulders.

“River!” Celestia called out cheerfully.

All at once, my teacher and classmates bowed, as if automatons.

“Hey, what are you—owwwwww!” I cried out like a little girl.

Without warning Celestia had torn off the false cutie mark.

“Oh, that’s a shame, I thought for sure that performance would earn you a cutie mark,” Celestia whispered.

“What’s that about a cutie mark?” Pink Diamond asked, still in costume.

“Oh, nothing,” Celestia say with a very conspicuous smile. “You did an excellent job too!”

Filling the void of activity, Twilight stepped forward, energetic. “Wow, River! You really know a lot about friendship!”

Celestia and I locked eyes and shared a laugh.

My attention then wandered to Luna, and following her eyes, it seemed ponies averted their gazes the best they could.

“Princess Luna!” Zap chirped excitedly. “Can I have your autograph?”

Luna blushed. “The sentiment is mutual, young one” Luna said, modest. “That was a wonderful performance.

Zap’s wings buzzed happily.

I could hear the audience continuing to applaud and cheer.

They’re clapping too loudly for it to just be polite. After all, this play is pretty boring. Maybe it’s because of the princesses?

“Okay, everypony, time for the curtain call,” Fizzle prompted.

“Hey, Windy wake up,” Mortar Strike prompted, poking the sleeping filly.

The pegasus’s tiny wings jutted out, and she let out a catlike yawn. “Oh my! Sorry I couldn’t stay awake. You were really good, Mortar, at least what I saw anyway.”

“Nopony can blame you. That must have been frightening.”

“I thought I did pretty good, but batting leadoff has its challenges.”

Mortar looked confused, but their conversation was broken up by Fizzle’s foalherding.

The audience applauded again when our class took the stage.

Thaumaturgical’s Torch got a louder applause than most, despite his limited role.

A strange sort of itching, combined with a numbness that projected out of my body plagued my withers.

Man, hitting your horn can have strange side-effects.

Holding the draconequus costume above their heads, the trio of Pestle, Bubble and Annuity curtsied to a respectable ovation.

“It was obviously my performance they were applauding for,” Annuity boasted.

“As if!” Pestle responded, starting an argument that I quickly tuned out.

The strange sensations continued.

It’s these stupid wings. I thought, scratching over them before simply stripping the fake wings off. I had wanted to stay in costume, but I couldn’t take it anymore.

The applause faded to dead silence.

I sheepishly darted my eyes about.

“I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

I felt somepony’s magic part my bangs.

Zap broke the silence with various happy noises, jumping on me to initiate a hug.

I looked to my classmates, expecting expressions mirroring my own.

What I saw were mouths dropping… upon seeing my new wings. Silence reigned supreme, right up until Princess Luna assassinated it.

“Huzzah!!”

Crafty inhaled deeply as he strolled about the rooftop terrace. The clean air and greenery stood in stark contrast to the smog that enveloped the surrounding bifurcating skyscrapers. It was like an oasis of sorts.

Remembering, the young colt looked expectantly at the pressurized door. A moment passed and he sighed.

“Hey, Crafty!” his little sister shouted, causing him to nearly jump out of his fur. He glared at House, who returned a satisfied smile.

“House, how’d you get in here?” he asked in disbelief.

“Through the back door!” she replied cheerily, hitting him over the head with the obvious answer.

However, that’s not what Crafty had meant. When he had invited House to the terrace, it was more of a hypothetical than a genuine offer extended.

Mother… Crafty thought. He was old enough to realize that their parents had more than sufficient means to monitor their movements and activities. House would have never been able to break curfew without Domestic Anchor being complicit. Although they were part of different worlds, Crafty had nothing but respect for her.

Shame she ended up as a mare.

“So, what’d you want to show me?” House asked with a broad smile, completely oblivious to the matrimonial politics precipitated by her late-night adventure.

On a whim, Crafty tapped her horn just hard enough to get a sour reaction.

“That’s no fair, Crafty! If you had one, I’d at least be able to get you back!”

Crafty smiled wryly. “That’s what makes it so fun, little sis.”

Horns and wings were strange things. Research had turned up strange localized energy readings, but they still had no clue as to why some were born with such traits. The genetics checked out, but vestigial extremities seemed like prime candidates for evolution to iron out. Some took the initiative to remove them entirely. He knew the wings were especially time-consuming to take care of.

Honestly, what kind of strange species are we anyway?

“You still haven’t answered my question,” House prompted, impatient.

The aquamarine colt patted his sister on the head. “That I haven’t. Remember the probe I got for my birthday?”

“Yeah, I wanted one too, remember?”

He nodded somberly. House envied a lot of what he had. Maybe his other sisters felt the same but didn’t express it. He truly didn’t know and had no occasion to ask.

“Well, guess what? It’s made it all the way to the Praxis galaxy.”

“Ohh! Neato! Can you show me a feed of one of the inhabited planets? Probably just TF-94, since you just got there, huh?”

Crafty tried not to show how impressed he was. That private terraforming project was an obscure footnote. It would be a shame that she would be headed to etiquette school, where her smarts would be wasted.

The colt cracked a smile. “Actually, it’s been a couple weeks.”

House beamed. “You mean…”

“You got it!” Crafty responded. “We’ve got a clear view of Rhod!”

As Crafty noted this, the clear roof switched to the video feed of the desert planet. Words weren’t needed as the watched for the better part of an hour. Although the planet was barren, it had its natural beauty, if only because it was so different compared to their home.

“Crafty?”

“Yeah, Sis?”

“Why haven’t we seen any ponies?”

“That word doesn’t mean ‘beings,’ House,” Crafty scolded.

“But everypony—”

“I know everyone says it, but that doesn’t make it right!”

House nodded submissively, so Crafty changed the subject back. “You’re right: we haven’t seen any. Maybe they all died out. It would probably be news to most if true. We’ve got thousands of worlds within our purview. We’re bound to lose track of a few.”

House perked back up. “I’d love to visit Rhod sometime.”

Crafty shook his head. “You can’t. Even if it we weren’t waiting for them to return with the Share, you couldn’t go. After all, would we really want them to find out that their conquerors are now a bunch of ponies? I don’t think we ’would It’d be straight up embarrassing!”

“Stupid Quarrel!” House recited.

Author's Note

How will things shape up now that Alice has her wings? How did Windy Skies swap places with Maniacal Laughter? And what other havoc will Quarrel inflict on unsuspecting planets?

Find out in the next chapter of It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time, but It Only Made Things Needlessly Convoluted!

In all seriousness, though, thanks for waiting guys. It should be more fun to write now that I've finally delivered on what the fic has been promising for years.

Chapter 34 Author's Note

Enjoy!

Chapter 34

I made it through dinner in strained silence. My attention was constantly on the numbness of my new wings. I didn’t know if this was due to their newness, or if my brain just didn’t know how to comprehend my new fifth and sixth limbs. The silence was my choice, as was the food. The princesses and Star let me have whatever I wanted, and with the mood I was in, pony food didn’t sound too appetizing. Celestia didn’t even comment on my lack of sugar. If I was truly honest, at this point my resistance was only to make a stand on principle, as I had found saccharine foods to my liking.

“Hang in there, Alice,” Celestia called after me on the way out. “I’ll come by later if you want. No more alicorn stuff for the day—I promise.”

“That’s okay,” I murmured. “I think I’m just going to bed. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day at school tomorrow.”

“Fair point,” Celestia conceded.

“Although unfortunately, there’s a considerable amount of ‘alicorn stuff’ on the horizon,” Luna provided as diplomatically as she could. “Princess or not, the implications of possessing the aspects of all three tribes has enormous political and social implications. The nobles—”

Celestia lightly tapped Luna’s chest.

“Very well. Goodnight, young foal,” Luna wished me as I left the secret dining room through the kitchen. Her address might have bothered me a few weeks ago, but I knew she meant well.

The ponies in the kitchen didn’t bow or anything, but they weren’t very good at stealing glances, and the sounds of knives on cutting boards went quiet as I walked by.

On my way to my room I thought back to the after play. My classmates’ reactions were shrouded in disbelief. Annuity’s was my favorite. She redefined the deer in the headlights look. I wondered for a second if I had broken her brain. Unfortunately, I couldn’t enjoy it very much as the crowd stormed the stage in celebration when the murmur of excited conversation became a loud clamoring.

“What’s your name, young lady?”

“Why were you wearing fake wings and a horn if you have your own?”

“What exactly did you do to ascend?”

“Please, everypony, give her some space,” Luna pleaded

“Her?” I heard Thaumaturgical repeat.

Then came the song. The crowd raised me up on the back of a mare I didn’t know and sang some asinine tune about what a joyous day it was for the emergence of a new alicorn. If I hadn’t already come to hate these song sequences this one would have done it. It was easily the worst song I had suffered through yet. I swear every pony in Canterlot joined in on the spontaneous parade, as the booming voices of the mob drew in more and more ponies and surely must have shut down the local economy for several hours.

The circus finally arrived at the castle’s garden, where a gaggle of reporters had set up shop. Bowing to expectation, Celestia and Luna brought me up to the elevated platform that had been set-up. I remembered thinking how impressive Celestia’s staff was for hearing the news and being so proactive.

Celestia did her best to protect me, as I was honestly intimidated by the overwhelming attention. The questions were fairly repetitive. The most frequent were attempts to get Celestia to clarify whether or not I would be a princess, and if they could refer to me as such. She cited several formal requirements that would need to be cleared prior to crowning me. Still, that didn’t stop many of them from continually referring to me as a princess.

Another related question was what my aspect was supposed to be. A common misconception was that I had ascended as a result due to some sort of uncanny acting talent. They also asked about my cutie mark quite a bit, which made me a bit nervous.

A few times I did have to speak for myself, and it did not go well at all. When asked what my goals were as a princess, I made an indecisive denial about the princess part and then went on to trip on my words before Luna mercifully intervened. The other questions were about my family, school life and everything about my personal life that they could think to probe.

It only lasted an hour before Celestia needed to call it off to lower the sun. From there, Star took me to the hidden dining room, where I was able to be alone with my thoughts for a while. The recurring theme was that I knew this had been a long time coming, but it was still weird. Other than that, there was so much to process that I ended up making no progress at all.

Walking down the hallway, I tried to gather my swirling thoughts.

So I’m not a princess automatically. I guess I should be happy about that, even if all those reporters were ready to deem me one. Some kind of test I have to pass. I wonder what that would—

“Oh, thank you, Star,” I said warmly to my chaperone as she opened the door to my room for me.

“Try to get some rest, okay?”

I shook my head. “It’s not for lack of wanting. I doubt I’ll have success.”

Star put a hoof on my withers. “Would it help if I curled around you while you try to fall asleep?”

I was about to give her a look of disbelief, but I could tell by looking at her that she was being entirely sincere.

“No thanks. My wings are kind of tender right now,” I added quickly—an excuse, albeit a truthful one.

Letting me have my privacy Star stepped to the side and I entered the pitch black room. From practice, I knew exactly where my bed was and when to jump. Snuggling under the covers, I took a deep breath. At least a good night’s sleep would be able to wash away the stress for a while and let me recover a bit for tomorrow.

“At least I have this time to myself…”

“SURPRISE!!”

The lights sprung into action.

“UUUH! UGHHHH! AGHHHHHHH!” I screeched as I jumped with such force to take the covers with me into the air.

Eleven ponies then popped out from under my bed

“Congratulations, River! You really did it!” Pink Diamond cheered, hopping on my bed.

To my dismay ten others joined her. It said something about how small foals were that we all fit comfortably.

“I had never thought a pony so rough-and-tumble could be a princess. I guess you got a promotion of sorts from being a guardspony! ” said a purple filly.

Noble Truth, I think?

“Perhaps you do want to fly avec moi?” said Mix-up in his broken Equestrian.

Is he hitting on me?

“Start by learning to fly yourself before asking her,” said the chubby pegasus Hail Stone.
Without me realizing it, the other exchange students had trapped me in the middle of the bed.

“Congratulations, River,” Monocle said. “You may not believe me now that you’re a princess and everything, but I’ve enjoyed being your friend.” Her lizard popped out of her mane. “Igloo says congratulations too.”

“Way to go!” New Moon praised. “If you need any beauty tips, I can definitely help you. You have to look your best from now on, you know! Princesses shouldn’t be tomcolts.”

I flinched at that.

“Also, if you need me to hook you up with a nice filly, I’m always willing.”

Oh? Oh....

I sighed. “Please don’t tell anypony else about that, okay?” I begged the batpony.

“Hmm? Liking fillies nothing to be ashamed of,” she replied.

“I know that; I just want to be left alone. I’m not looking for anypony, and besides, I’ll probably have colts approaching me anyway; I don’t need fillies propositioning me as well.”

“Well, if you say so.” She gestured a hoof at the next pony.

“If you ever need a spymaster, I’m your pony,” said a filly who had colors resembling those of Shining Armor.

Do I even know you?

“Yeah, congratulations,” Blue Horizon added. “I’m sure glad I didn’t pick you as my rival. You sure are amazing.”

Oh, the irony…

“Congrats. You know, I could probably make you armor if you want, or regalia, I guess,” said Brass Ring.

Cake Slice subtly smiled. “I’m so happy for you, River. I’m… ummm… a bit jealous. I’m sure we’ve all wanted to be princesses at some point.”

“Speak for yourself!” said the one colt that hadn’t spoken yet, causing Cake to flinch somewhat.

“Uhh… I have nothing original to say,” he said. “I’m just here for the free food.”

Free food? I wondered.

Craning my head, I did a double take.

“Uhh… who’s the zebra?”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. I am called Mindre,” the zebra girl said, shaking my hoof.”

“River this is Mindre, Mindre, Princess River. I invited her,” said New Moon.

I sighed. “Thank you for your warm regards,” I said diplomatically. “But I have to get to bed.”

“Bed? On a night like this? We’re just getting started,” Pink said with enthusiasm.

My door flung open and a cannon exploded, scattering confetti all over my floor.

“Let’s party!” Pinkie declared, bouncing into the room, carrying a boombox.

I really need to get a lock on my door...

“So, River, what color will your guard wear?” Pink Diamond repeated.

My eyes crept open. “Oh, cinnabar I guess,” I replied lamely, eyes drooping closed again almost immediately.

“Neat! So, what will your aspect be, anyway?”

“Mmmmmhh, tacos would be good.”

“Tacos!? That’s silly. What would the princess of tacos preside over, anyway? Ohhh, do you mean you will be a champion for fast food, as a metaphor for standing up for the common pony? Neat! Good idea!”

“What’s a good idea?” I asked, waking momentarily. Without Star prodding me along I doubt I would have even made it to school.

“The idea you just said, silly!”

“Look, Pink, I—I can’t function well on no sleep. I don’t know how you’re getting by.”

Pink Diamond cocked her head. “I’m a little tired, but I took a nap before the party. I had a feeling it would go late. I warned everypony on the invitations.”

I gawked at her before erupting into a shrill, cynical fit of laughter that brought me to tears.

“You alright there, River?” Trusty asked.

I rolled me eyes. My malaise wasn’t exactly easy to misconstrue.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” I said sardonically. “It’s just my wings hurt, I’m tired, I get to be at the center of a circus again, I’m tired and even the ground feels weird to me—it’s like I can feel every imperfection.”

Trusty smiled. “That’s an earth pony’s hooves for you.”

I did a double-take. Trusty? Providing useful insight? Impossible!

“Yeah, River!” Pink piped in.

She came to a stop.

“Saaaaay…. how come you’re just noticing this now? Haven’t you always been an earth pony?”

“Huh? What?” I asked dumbly before it slowly dawned on me what she was getting at.

“Oh, look: we’re here!” Star announced, stealing my line and distracting Pink Diamond.

Zephyr Zap did a corkscrew above the school gate.

“River’s here! River’s here!” Zap announced.

Before she even finished, most of my classmates came stampeding out of the gate.

“YAAAAAAAAAAY!” was all I heard before I was lifted the foals’ collective strength and carried through the gate.

Pink Diamond just giggled at my plight.

A cacophony of voices accompanied my involuntary crowdsurfing into the classroom. I couldn’t make out any of them in particular, but I couldn’t imagine anypony was saying anything substantial.

Finally, I was put down next to my desk, and, as ponies are prone to do, they formed a line, of all things.

Mortar Strike had taken pole position. “Hi, River. I’m sure you heard me complain about it before, but I really think we should have blacksmithing as an activity at our camp. I’m sure I’m not the only one that would enjoy it. I see that four other camps have it available, but I don’t really want to transfer and be away from Silver Lining. And it’s something we could go toge—umm…. Princess River?”

“Huh? Oh… what?” I stammered, roused momentarily from my microslumber.

“Am… am I that boring?” Mortar asked.

“No, you’re good,” I said, before coming to an abrupt stop. “What were we talking about again?”

“Metallurgy, for the camp.”

“Oh. Right. What makes you think I can do anything about that?”

“Well, I can see that,” he said. “I hardly knew you up until now, but I’m sure I can help you in return, be more of a friend to you.”

“A give and take? That’s even worse.”

“No, it’s not anything like bribery. What I mean is—”

“Times up! My turn my turn! Zephyr Zap said, pushing her fellow pegasus aside.

“Hey, River. I had a lot of fun pretending to be a princess with you last night. And now you get to do it for real—wow. Anyway, here.”

She thrust a cat in my face.

“Here’s my new kitty. One of Thaumaturgical’s cats had a litter. And I was thinking you could name her.”

“Why me?” I groned.

“Isn’t why obvious? Please…” she pleaded.

“Falafel Mix,” I said bluntly.

“Huh…. oh? OH!!! I love it, River! Thank you! Let’s go, Falafel Mix.”

I snickered at the absurdity.

“Hey River,” Little Pinion greeted. “I was wondering if—”

“All right, everypony, break it up. Break it up! Give the alicorn some breathing room,” Fizzle demanded as she noisily made her way past the congregation of ponies.

The line dispersed with groans and moans as they returned to their desks.

I dozed off again and had to be prompted to jump into my desk.

“Hey, River, why didn’t you use your wings?” Stardust asked before she could be shushed.

Fizzle waited patiently for the clamoring to die down.

“All right, I know River’s the talk of the town right now, and you all are very excited, but we still have a day of edification and joy ahead of us!”

“Maintenant, començons la leçon de prançais.”

“Oui Madame,” we echoed weakly.

“Now, in Prench, the past tense is a little different. When you want to express ‘I ate the hay’ you would literally say ‘I have eaten the hay.’ The simple past is mostly a literary form. Meanwhile, the perfect, or passé composé…”

“Elle est alleé au magasin et elle a acheté le jus de pomme,” Gilded Acres recited.

“Bon,” Fizzle praised.

“Ms. Fizzle! River’s sleeping again!” Bubble Bauble griped.

I momentarily drifted into consciousness before fading.

“River!” Fizzle scolded.

“Five more minutes…”

“River!”

I ignored her.

THWACK

“Eep!” I squeaked as the ruler came down hard on my desk.

“Don’t think that because you’re an alicorn now you can sleep through class.”

“But Pink Diamond kept me up all night with a party in my room with lots of ponies and loud music!”

“Pink, is that true? Did you keep her up?”

“Yup!” she admitted. “It was really really fun.”

Fizzle sighed. “Quite understandable if not ideal. Do your best to stay awake, though. You can sleep during recess.”

“Thank you,” I said, exhaling.

“Wait a minute, ‘her’? Becoming an alicorn turns you into a filly?!” Thaumaturgical asked, completely perplexed..

Fizzle sighed. “All right, let’s address the elephant in the room. It’s a long story, but River is actually a filly.”

I swallowed hard.

“Makes sense,” said Silver Lining.

“Called it!” Granite boasted.

“Aww man! I was about to prove it with the blood sample I got during the play!” Pestle Mix complained.

“Ha! The bet’s off, Pestle Nix!” Annuity declared triumphantly, breaking her suspicious silence.

“How did I not know this!?” Thaumaturgical asked rhetorically. “More importantly, how did everyone else know?”

“Her voice cracks sometimes,” Daybreak explained.

“Jill tipped us off by inviting her to her sleepover,” Style supplied.

“I had a crush on her and was relieved when—” Little Pinion blushed. “Nevermind.”

“Under her tail I saw—”

“Okay! That’s enough!” Fizzle mercifully cut in.

How does that not happen more often in Equestria? I thought, blushing.

“All right, everypony. Settle down. Those Prench verbs aren't going to conjugate themselves!” Fizzle said playfully as she handed out worksheets.

Picking up my quill, I sleepily glanced at the first exercise and filled it in.

Tu as mangé la omelette du fromage.

Il est tombé.

Je suis descendue.

I paused.

Wow. I’m not even trying to resist this filly thing at this point. Curse you gendered past participles!

“Here!” Bubble Bauble prompted, thrusting the ruby pendant in my face.

“Huh? What’s this?” I asked.

“A peace offering,” she explained. “I know I’m Annuity’s best friend and everything, but if I’ve ever done anything to offend you, I’m sorry. I never held anything against you or anything. I don’t want to particularly be your friend, but there’s no reason we can’t be cordial.”

“Okay then. Thanks,” I said, mostly relieved that one less pony wanted to be my best friend.

Bubble nodded and walked away. Her synopsis of our relationship had been fairly accurate. I hadn’t thought much of her—good or bad. That voice did get on my nerves quite a bit, though.

My recess nap lasted all of ten minutes before I finally conceded one request in the hopes it would cause the crowd around me to disperse. Unfortunately, one request became two and so on.

“Hey, River. Let’s go flying together!” Windy Skies suggested.

“Yeah!” Zephyr Zap joined in, alighting next to me, Falafel Mix still on her head.

“I can’t yet,” I replied. The professor had explained to me about the underdevelopment of my wings, but I hadn’t understood most of it. “Besides, I don’t know how.”

“I can teach you!” Windy and Zap said at the same time before exchanging a glance and giggling.

Recess continued on much the same way. Silver Lining and Skywatcher offered to help me practice magic. I slipped up a bit by admitting I already had a teacher, but that fortunately didn’t arouse suspicion. Pish and Posh offered me a gift certificate to their family restaurant. Celestia had warned me about the transparent bribery I would be seeing, but I just wanted to get the procession over with. Fortunately recess then ended.

Fizzle had taken mercy on me and decided to give feedback on the play. She started at the top with my performance: I had done well to remember my lines and kept my nerves under control. However, she thought I was too casual in my portrayal of Celestia and that I should have carried myself with a more royal composure. It only occurred to me later that she was also probably talking about my demeanor as River Glade the alicorn. However, in the moment, I was just happy to get to sleep.

Slightly refreshed, I left the school building, and for a glorious thirty seconds, I thought I was going to be able to slip away. However, I would later learn that that was a luxury I may never have again.

“River! What activities are you going to pick?”

“Yeah, tell us! Tell us!”

“Err…”

Ponyfeathers. I had forgotten all about that! Then again, would I want everypony picking the same activities as me?

“I haven’t decided yet…” I said with a sigh.This was quickly revealed to be a mistake as everyone started giving me their thoughts.

“You should take—”

“How about—”

“I think you should—”

The suggestions kept coming. Some ponies made more than one. After about five seconds I found myself unable to zone in on a single pony even if I had wanted to.

“Alright, everypony that’s enough for today,” Star announced, swooping down. River is a bit overwhelmed by all this, and besides, he needs Princess Celestia to teach hi—her about being an alicorn. It’s a lot to process, growing wings and a horn.”

“Awwwww!”

Curiosity overtook me and I looked around. Nobody questioned what Star had said. Somehow, against all odds, the lie about being an earth pony had held up, where my gender secret had faltered. Though not everypony gave up so easily.

“River,” Thaumaturgical croaked. I faced him. “Why didn’t tell me you were a filly?”

“I didn’t tell anypony.” Except for Bulwark “Or Beakington or Jill for that matter,” I quickly added.

“Okay, but then why keep it secret? You could have trusted me at least.”

“It—it’s a long story. I might tell you later.” I said and turned began to walk back to the castle with Star. If Beakington doesn’t let something slip first…

“Hey, River,” Squirt said meekly, trotting up.

I rose a hoof to signal Star to stop walking. I immediately felt self-conscious about this, but Star didn’t seem to mind.

“You probably don’t want to anymore, because you’ve got a lot of princess stuff to do, but I got the new hero game everyone’s talking about. If you want to play after school on Friday, I’ve invited the others over.”

“Are you serious?” I asked

“I thought that just because you’re a different type of pony now, that doesn’t mean you’re a different pony—if that makes any sense. Sorry if I was wrong.”

I smiled broadly and put a hoof on his withers. “Are you kidding? That’s great! That’s why I love you, Squirt!”

“What now?” Squirt asked, barely reacting at all.

I froze and looked around timidly. Fortunately, my entourage has dispersed. Nevertheless I heard a giggle and turned to face Pink Diamond.

“Not. One. Word.”

“Heehee. Okay, Princess!”

In Celestia’s room, I had snuggled beneath her wing for the last half hour as I recounted my day.

“I liked your performance. You ponized me.”

“Pardon?”

“You don’t know that word?”

“I can guess, but I’ve never heard it used.”

“Well, it means to make a pony seem more like a pony and less like a fictional character or a symbol.”

“Oh, I see. I guess you wouldn’t use the word humanize.”

Celestia laughed.

We had talked about nothing in particular, but I was grateful to her for that. It seemed to me that a long life had imparted her with profound empathy. She had sensed that alicorn things were the last I wanted to talk about.

“I want to clarify something about being an alicorn,” I said, hoping to relieve my mind of a nagging issue before dropping it again.

“Oh?”

“You said I’m not a princess. That I have to pass a test, and then a ceremony.”

“Indeed,” said Luna. Without her having to maintain the facade that I was an ordinary exchange student, she was at liberty to join us. Though she mostly just sat to the side watching us. Honestly I almost forgot she was there. I made a mental note to focus on my situation awareness. I may no longer have been a soldier, but it was still a skill to keep honed. Strange that it should slip though...

“Are you nervous?” Celestia asked.

“Far from it. I’m glad I’m not automatically a princess; though I wish my classmates would get the memo.”

“The griffin and minotaur should know, being children of ambassadors,” Luna opined.

“They have names, you know,” I said facetiously.

Luna smiled. “Very perceptive, Alice. Though I was being polite: I’m not acquainted with them personally, so I was indirect. You have to understand that it carries some weight when we deem it important enough to remember someone’s name.”

“That—must be a pain. I hadn’t thought of that. So what of the test?” I asked, changing the subject.”

“Oh that? You already passed.” Celestia said with an enigmatic grin.

“WHAT!?”

“We knew this day would come and planned accordingly,” Luna explained. “There’s no occasion for astonishment. Or perhaps you thought it far off? Our perception of time can be skewed...”

“That’s one thing, but how could you give me the test without me knowing?”

“It was to better show your character,” Celestia explained. “Besides, if you knew about it, you might have failed on purpose.”

“Yeah, right…” I agreed weakly.

She totally saw through me.

“So what was the test, anyway?”

“The test was more about accepting the test than passing the test,” Celestia explained cryptically.

“Just tell me!”

“Oh, all right,” Celestia said playfully. “You see: you were willing to help Pink Diamond out. Help keep her from getting hurt. She was a pony you didn’t particularly like, but you agreed nonetheless.”

“That—”

“You passed the test part of the test, too,” Luna interjected.

“Indeed. You ran after Pink Diamond after she was embarrassed and tried to console her. True, you weren’t particularly effective, but your effort inspired ponies around you to help out.”

That’s it?

“Besides, it was very kind of you to help Jill make friends. I would have passed you for that anyway.”

I scrunched up my face, retreating back under Celestia’s wing.

“Master Quarrel? You wanted to see me?” Diane asked, poking her head into the draconquus’s humble abode.”

“Stop with the formalities. I’m nothing impressive,” Quarrel said dismissively.

“If you say so,” Diane conceded, sidestepping a usual point of debate. “The others said you had a plan, but didn’t give me any details.”

“That’s because I haven’t told them.”

“Why not? Surely my superiors deserve to know first.”

“It’s because you’re so fun to bounce ideas off of! You’re a bouncy ball wall.”

“Thanks?”

“Anyway, that protective pendant I made for you—it didn’t take as much of my mana as I thought.”

“That’s great!” Diane cheered. “I felt bad about draining you.”

“It makes sense,” Quarrel started to explain. “In Equestria I was able to teleport around with ease. So I was thinking…”

Diane nodded. “You can teleport us! Or General O’Higgins. It’s quite a fortunate coincidence that you remembered the name of the planet—even more so that you know where Khyrsis is.”

“Well, not exactly, but once I’ve been somewhere, I can generally teleport at least in the vicinity. I was hesitant, but perhaps they’ve forgotten about me by now.”

Diane nodded. “You can even bring back some of those ‘earth ponies’ to help us tame this planet!”

“Unfortunately, that’s not the case. It’s been a very long time, so I’m sure they all changed back after a year or two.”

A pregnant pause hung on the air.

“Quarrel?”

“Hmm?”

“When you changed us, we didn’t turn back, so why would it be different for them?”

“Well, that’s because… oh.Oh! Oh…” The drained draconequus’s face went through a number of motions. Shifting from contemplation to amusement to concern to horror to a mad smile before settling on a blankish set. “Okay, that… complicates things…”

Recap with DIscord - Guest Chapter

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter 36

I wonder how many other obstacle courses there are around Canterlot? Maybe Rainbow can take me again; that would be fun. Shame none of my friends would like it—hmm maybe Bulwark! Yeah, Bulwark...

“—understand what I’m saying, right?”

“Oh, yes,” I lied to the pushy gray stallion as I made minimal effort to conform my body language.

“I just think the bridge would benefit everypony, and the investment would be minimal. Wouldn't you agree, young princess?”

I had tried objecting to the title several times, but it had never sunk in, so I had given up. It only occurred to me later that it said out of ignorance, but of flattery.

I stole a glance at Celestia, who was amusedly observing, as if thinking “better you than me.”

“—30,000 bits over a month, and projecting over two years that would be…”

“We’ll think about it,” Celestia finally interjected. “In fact, I think the HoP is working on something similar.”

“W—wonderful…” the stallion stammered. Looking behind himself, he suddenly grew self-conscious about the line of ponies waiting impatiently behind him. “I suppose my turn is up. Sorry…”

With that, a painful half-hour of boredom came to an end—the big grandfather clock may have said it was only eight minutes, but I was skeptical. And that hadn’t even been the least pleasant conversation I had had!

Looking around a bit, I took in the sights of ponies dressed to impress. Had I just arrived in Equestria I might have been led to assume that clothes were the norm. For as colorful as ponies were, the garments were rather bland. Jewelry, fresh flowers, strong perfume, and even the occasional monocle were among the more prominent features present. At the front of the room, a live band was playing the most inoffensive, generic classical music—that is, if it couldn’t be classified outright as elevator music. Maids and butlers weaved masterfully through the crowd to deliver cocktails and appetizers to ponies who didn’t give them a second thought. In a word, the atmosphere was “refined.”

I hated it.

As big as the ballroom was, it was quite a feat that every table was filled to capacity with ponies talking about their ancestry, their enterprises, the state of Canterlot politics, the hoofball draft, and —worst of all—me.

“Hello, young princess,” said the next stallion. He was of a charcoal color which made his suit blend into his coat. He grabbed and shook my forehoof, uninvited may I add. “Tie Tycoon, Canterlot Clotherie Corporation at your service. Third son of Fine Tie, twenty-third Duke of Canterlot.”

I froze. I had tried every approach. Act interested and they would yak even more. Let boredom shine through, and they would try all the harder.

“River Glade,” I said, indifferently, as I extended a hoof. Benign politeness seemed to be the lesser evil, but I hated every forced second I had to maintain that facade. The conversation should have died right then, but it was never that easy.

“But enough about me,” the stallion said in faux modesty. “I’d like you to meet my son!”

Not again…

“Hi,” the young maroon and gray stallion behind him said timidly.

Tie Tycoon slapped his son on the back. “This is my son, Tyke Tycoon! I’ll have you know he is independently wealthy, handsome—as you can clearly see—and very much single!”

I knew it....

“Perhaps the two of you can… mingle sometime?” He insinuated with the subtlety of a freight train.

Despite my better judgment I chose not to stay silent.
“B—but he’s got decades on me!”

“Um… yes, I’m eighty-four,” the “young” stallion said bashfully, almost as a question.

The father patted his son on the back, increasingly harder, urging him to say something. It got to the point where I started to feel bad for Tyke.

“Okay, umm… what do you do?” I forced myself to ask.

“Oh, nothing much—oof!”

Tie laughed after the not-so-subtle jab to his son’s ribcage. “Pardon, Princess. He can have trouble singing his own praises at times. He is currently, as the young’uns say, finding himself. He was a retail ambassador at a local confectionary, managed his own theater troupe, and most recently, he was hired as a media executive!”

“Really?” I asked, immediately regretting the implication I’d reconsider my position even in the slightest with this new information.

“Actually I’m just an intern—”

“AHAHAHA, my son ever the modest one!” Tie bowed and pushed Tyke’s head down. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Princess River. I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

A hundred years would be too soon.

The next pony immediately took his turn, a bit too eager to meet me.

“Hello, young princess. My name is Guiding Light, House of Ponies twenty-third district. How are you?”

“Fine.”

How do you think I’m doing? I’m stuck wasting a perfectly good Saturday night at this stupid party!

“That’s a lovely blouse I must say.”

“Thanks.”

After extensive debate, I was able to talk Celestia down from forcing me into a dress. I realized she was right about everypony being dressed up, but I still didn’t have to like it. I think I came out pretty well all things considered. I personally didn’t know how a lavender garment went with my colors, but it was mercifully fairly plain, aside than a pair of puffy frills. But at least they were in such a position that I could pretend to myself that they were drawstrings.

Huh… I’m getting a bit of deja vu. I think I had a dream with that filly—Auburn, was it? She was trying to get me to wear a dress, too.

I guess you wouldn’t listen to what a mere filly has to say, she had said.

What a stupid comment. Whether it’s a filly, a colt, or a princess who’s asking, I’m not about to acquiesce to looking pretty.

“—include the Banking, Infrastructure and Civil Discipline committees.” He smiled in a condescending manner. “But I guess you aren’t old enough to understand these things. In that case, perhaps you would like to meet my daughter?”

“I—”

“Fluffy Puppy! Come here for a moment!” Guiding called out.

A familiar filly with a purplish blue coat that matched my blouse came trotting up. She was wearing a white top and a checkered skirt.

“Dad, I told you not to call me that in public!” She turned in place and smiled. “Hi, River!”

“Oh, hey, Stardust, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, kind of silly for me to meet you here, huh? I see you every day at school!”

“Stardust, you mean to tell me that the new alicorn goes to your school?” the politician asked in disbelief.

“Yep!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he chided.

“You didn’t ask!” the filly replied playfully. “Say, River, I was dancing with some friends over there. Want to join us?”

“Well, I can’t dan—”

Stardust winked and gestured to the long line of ponies still queued to meet me.

I was instantly convinced and turned to Celestia. “I’m going to dance with my friends. Is that okay?”

“No worries, little one. I’ll handle things here,” said the elder princess.

I didn’t hesitate and cantered off with Stardust, leaving a line of disappointed ponies behind. Taking a moment to recollect myself, I looked around the ballroom a bit more. I could have sworn that even the wallpaper and flooring were significantly more glitzy than usual.

Stardust’s friends gasped as I approached their corner and started whispering amongst themselves. I didn’t know why I warranted such a surprised reaction considering I was billed as the star attraction, but ponies were silly like that. There was, however, something far more conspicuous.

“Hello, Jill, how are you doing?” I greeted.

“Hi, River, I’m alright. I suppose it’s been a while, huh?”

I was about to point out what I thought was obvious, but upon reflection I had not spoken to Jill since sprouting wings.

“Yeah, these days there is usually a line to talk to me. I saw you haven’t been part of that gaggle. Thank you for that. It’s refreshing to have someone who hasn’t changed how they deal with me.”

“You’re welcome. I kinda thought you got enough of that already, and besides, I thought there was, and is, a lot of your mind,” said the minotaur girl.

Stardust jumped in. “Come on, River, I haven’t bothered you as much either. Where’s my praise?”

I forced an awkward laugh. She wasn’t wrong. “More importantly, who are your friends?”

“Right. This is Cheesecake and that is Peach Blossom,” Stardust provided, gesturing to them.

“Nice to meet you!” Cheesecake said.

“Yeah, what she said,” added Peach. “So what’s it like being a princess?”

I sighed.

“I’m not a princess yet. A coronation ceremony is still needed. Oh, I have to pass a test too.” The latter wasn’t true anymore, but they didn’t have to know that. “The answer is that it’s a lot of attention. I still don’t understand this whole thing.”

“Have you flown yet?” Cheesecake asked.

“I haven’t had the time, really,” I replied. “It takes pegasi a while to learn to fly, and I know a colt older than I am who still can’t. Plus, alicorn wings are different from what I understand. Say, Jill, I noticed you’re talking normally to these ponies.”

It was somewhat brusque to change the subject, but their questions weren’t much better than what I had just escaped.

“Well, Stardust already knows why I talk like that, so I figured it would be okay. These fillies are nice. I guess I was just afraid that ponies would treat me differently in a bad way no matter what I did, so I kind of protected myself.”

“Uhh…. ponies are staring at us,” Cheesecake pointed out.

“Yeah, that’s my life these days,” I lamented.

“Actually, some of them look kind of annoyed.” Peach added.

“Oops. I guess we should actually do some dancing,” Stardust said through giggles, figuring it out before I did. “Let’s dance then!”

I froze as it occurred to me that I was still no wiser as to how to dance as a pony. I was about to point this out while watching Jill sway side-to-side; however, I quickly noticed the ponies weren’t doing anything remarkable or interesting. It looked like they were merely rhythmically walking in place. I had no difficulty imitating them—or so I hoped. From what I could glean from the ponies closest to us, I apparently had four left hooves.

Four forelegs? Something like that.

The two filly friends whispered their surprise that a princess wouldn’t be able to dance in a formal setting.

Stardust approached me with a smile. “Care to dance?”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” I asked, continuing my awkward shuffle.

“No, I mean together!”

“Well, I— “ I hesitated, judgmental eyes still trained on me. “Sure…”

She approached me and led me through the motions. At first I didn’t think we were doing anything more than what I was doing on my own, but the looks of disapproval slowly disappeared. Feeling the bounce of my hooves on floor, I had to admit there was a certain cadence to it.

Stardust is pretty nice. She doesn’t seem to be doing this just because of the alicorn thing. I kind of feel bad for letting her think we’re actual friends.

I examined the smile on the unicorn filly’s face. It seemed genuine, which made me feel worse for leading her on.

Well, it’s not just her; I don’t really have any real friends.

To an outsider it may have seemed like I had plenty, but I would disagree.

Squirt was probably the closest “friend” I had. Our relationship was mostly a shared skepticism of general pony silliness and whimsy. I had a good time a few occasions, but I couldn’t pretend to share his passion for gaming.

Thaumaturgical was the next closest. I was surprised at times that he didn’t annoy me more, but he occasionally had interesting things to say. I didn’t share any common interests with him— especially not bugs. I sort of let him hang around me as a courtesy.

As for Beakington III? He was more of a friend of a friend. To his credit, he gave me that feather oath thing, and I supposed I owed him for not telling the others I was a filly.

And that’s all the colts I know... They may be only 42% of the population, but still. Maybe I wouldn’t be hurtling into fillyhood so quickly if I had made it more of a point to hang with the guys.

I tuned back into reality and regarded my dance partner. Stardust was okay, as was her frequent companion, Sunny Style. Stardust was calm, kind and intelligent. I understood why Squirt liked her. We bonded a little bit at the sleepover, but she ruined it by throwing me into the deep end of a han-thingy mahjong match with only the briefest of primers.

Iron Jill? There was a connection there I had to admit.

I furrowed my brow. Or maybe I just pitied her and helped her make friends. I supposed that was more likely. She was stronger than she looked, and now she had Stardust and Style. My work was done.

Zephyr Zap was friends with everypony, so that didn’t count.

And then there were the exchange ponies.

Pink Diamond apparently thought I was her best friend, and if I didn’t lower my exposure I feared our relationship might start to resemble the one I had with Thaumaturgical.

Monocle was a nice filly that just wanted to be liked. To her credit, of all my acquaintances she was probably the least demanding of my friendship.

Cake Slice was shy, and that was about it. I did promise to let her piggyback on my camp activities. It was a bother, but there was just something about her that made me want to protect her.

I guess I do have to get her my activity choices sooner rather than later.

And that was it.

I miss Bulwark. It’s a shame she won’t talk to me anymore.

“Ah-hem!”

I jolted and turned around in surprise coming face to knee with some haughty looking mare. I studied the green and purple noble before concluding, based on her resting nag face, that this wasn’t going to be pleasant. I could feel my rising mood deflate, taking my expression with it until I was left giving this newest pain in the flank a deadpan look.

“Do I know you?” I asked tactlessly.

“You should. I’m only the editor for Canterlot’s top pony interest column.”

So a tabloid…

“That’s not a name,” I supplied helpfully.

The mare looked down at me with disdain. “It is that sort of behavior that I’m here to address. As ill-suited you may be for the position, you have stumbled your way into the top of the social hierarchy.” She bowed half-heartedly. “I am Grapevine and I am here to offer my expertise to aid you. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Were you in line?” I asked bluntly.

“I was next! Did you not notice?” she admonished.

“Sorry,” I apologized weakly. “I just needed a breather.”

“You simply must work on your apologies,”

This mare seemed like she was determined to pick a fight. I looked back to my friends for support or at least to make sure I wasn’t the only one picking up on the hostility. Sadly they seemed to be intimidated by the adult.

“I’m dancing with my friends,” I said, hoping to defuse the situation.

“Well!”

“Come now, Grape she’s just a foal,” another mare said, approaching with a gaggle of ponies.

Grapevine forced a laugh. “I suppose so. I guess the wings suggested wisdom despite her youth. I suppose I overstepped myself by assuming her maturity.”

I still didn’t like this pony. Fortunately her friends took over.

“So why are you so underdressed?” One mare asked. “Do you not have a formal wardrobe?”

This comment touched a nerve, which I had become increasingly bad at hiding.

“If you want, I could be your fashion consultant. Give you a tour of the hottest clotheries in Canterlot. There’s a new boutique that’s all the rage.”

“No thanks, I can dress myself,” I replied bluntly.

“Well, the offer’s there if you change your mind. I mean you have a lot of eyes on you now. You simply must uphold your image!”

“I haven’t even had these things for 72 hours yet. What could I have possibly messed up in that time?”

Grapevine jumped back into the fray. “Don’t think you’re starting with a clean slate. Information about everything about you is in high demand. It’s certainly making me a pretty penny.”

I probably would have been even more annoyed if I had pondered what digging up that information must have entailed.

“They say you wrestled a villain to the ground instead of leaving it to the guards. Hardly befitting of a lady,” a mare with a high-pitched voice chided.

“But the guards—”

“Speaking of guards, The Junior Royal Guards? How can you be part of a club about protecting the princesses when you are one. That aside, foals beating up one another? I don’t know what Princess Celestia is thinking!” A very plump lady chided. I doubted she ever had exercised. Probably would have chipped the lacquer on her hooves.

“It must be a generational thing,” one of the tagalongs stage whispered.

“It’s more than that!” I pleaded

“Oh, and then there’s the deceit of running around with a fake cutie mark! Hardly befitting of a paragon of honesty.” Yet another of them chimed in, apparently eager to pick my integrity apart.

I’m supposed to be a “paragon of honesty!?”

Thinking for a moment, I decided to try a new tact. “Well, I’m certainly deficient in that category,” I agreed, hoping that would get them to listen. “I just didn’t want—”

“The fake cutie mark, dyeing your mane and tail, pretending to be a colt… I’d be quite interested in your explanation. What was that all about?” yet another mare critiqued.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s a long story,” I said weakly.

“Well go on, tell us! We’ve got time now that you’re no longer greeting guests.”

“But I—”

My deepest secrets were none of their business. I wondered if there was anything in my life that was off-limits at this point.

“Your mane is also unkempt and gnarled,” Grapevine said, nastiness returning. “And honestly, a tail that long—are you trying to mop the floor?”

Well now she’s being a jerk again. Great.

Out of curiosity, I looked and saw that she was essentially right. Regardless, I was even more loathe to let the castle’s salon give me the princess treatment.

I grinned. “You make a good point. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish mopping the floor.”

“Don’t take it personally, honey. Sometimes the hardest things to say are the most important. You’ll thank us one day!”

You don’t seem to be losing any sleep over making these comments, though…

These mares reminded me of a small army of Rarities—if Rarity had no charm or other redeeming qualities.

I took a deep breath, prepared to try again. “Well thank you all for your advice, but I simply must be going,” I explained, doing my best to imitate their speech.. After all, me and my friends were going to—”

I quickly glanced at Stardust and the others, looking for an assist.

“We were going to style her tail,” Peach provided.

“Uhh… yeah, that,” I mumbled weakly after spending a second pondering the irony.

Without further comment, I followed the others unthinkingly to the other side of the room. The silence persisted for a minute before Cheesecake broke the silence with an audible humming.

“What is it, CC?” asked Peach.

“Well, I was thinking, maybe being an alicorn isn’t always fun. Ponies telling you how to act and being rude.”

You’re telling me.

“Are you holding up okay, River?” Stardust asked. “Those mares were really judgmental.”

“Oh... yeah,” I replied, somewhat surprised. “It’s no big deal. It’s not like it affects me at all.”

Stardust tossed her mane in curiosity. “Well, I’ll always be there to listen if you need to vent.”

“Huh?” I blurted out, in a manner unbefitting a princess.

“What’s that?” Stardust asked.

“Oh, nothing,” I said dismissively. Truthfully I didn’t recognize the expression, but I didn’t want to profess ignorance regarding another Equestrian thing. “So, Peach, you were kidding about my tail, right?”

“No,” she insisted. “It’s so pretty!”

Ponyfeathers!

“So now you’re an alicorn!?” Bulwark had asked incredulously when paying me a visit Friday afternoon. What she dropped on me lowered my mood and set me up for a further emotional low when I found out about that snooty party.

“Yeah. It’s not as fun as it looks. Way too much attention.”

I laughed dismissively

“And somehow that’s made you shorter?” Bulwark asked, suspcicious.

“I don’t know what you’re—”

“River, please don’t lie to me! I can tell. You’ve always been on the small side, but now you’re the size of a teenager.”

It took me a second to realize how young that was by pony standards. I opened my mouth and closed it a moment later. “It’s a long story with quite a convoluted background,” I confessed.

“Is that why you told me that tall tale about being raised as a earth pony colt as the second daughter of a tribalist family?” she asked pointedly.

“What makes you suspect that?” I blurted at, immediately realizing that it wasn’t a denial.

“I was curious about what you told me about your upbringing, so I did some reading on Neighbraska. You know, unicorns aren’t exactly common there.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“Even so, they have mandatory magical kindergarten for unicorns!”

“My parents could have not enrolled me!”

“But did they?”

I considered answering both no and yes, but I didn’t decide quickly enough.

Bulwark sighed. “River, I’m not pretending I’m some kind of detective and that I’ve busted your alibi, but it’s hard to believe you in the face of other falsehoods. Like your cutie mark…”

I flinched. “Is—is that what this is about?”

She sniffed. “I felt a kinship. That I had a friend that had the same calling as me. And the fact that you earned it by besting me in a sparring match gave me a sense of pride for helping you find a passion.”

“I’m sorry—really sorry. I wish I could have been more forthcoming. Celestia—”

“Princess Celestia told you what? To lie?”

“Well—” In that moment it dawned on me that Celestia had never told me whom I could and couldn’t tell about the whole different dimension thing. I had just assumed it would be bothersome and projected my desires onto her for justification

She looked me in the eye. “If you had a good reason, I might forgive you, River. I may be simple for not understanding the machinations of the elites, but I have my principles. And you lied to me. Apparently to everypony else too.”

“Bulwark, wait!” I called after her as she turned and trotted away.

She rose a hoof to silence me, and I let her go.

The party was just the culmination of a lousy week. Since Squirt’s roleplaying session had fallen through due to Daft Hat and Iron Press contracting lice, I had relied on soccer to lift my spirits—until I realized Lua couldn’t exactly show up with wings.

Clearly everypony wanted my attention at school, and boarding life at the castle was no different. New Moon commandeered my room for another impromptu group friendship session. Ostensibly, it was to help her interact in groups, but it turned into more of the same usual alicorn inquiries.

I had been hoping that skipping Trusty’s Saturday field trip would have given me a breather if nothing else, but everypony followed my lead and skipped the trip. It probably didn’t help that our destination was to be the Museum of Entomological Etymology.

After that stupid party, I had expected to immediately doze off as soon as my little princess head hit the pillow. When this expectation shattered I was left wide awake with something stirring inside me. My thoughts had virtually slowed to a halt, and I had no energy left for any contemplation. Yet my body would not comply, and I instead felt some phantom pulses which felt like they were sapping what little energy I had to carryover to the next day.

Fortunately I got to sleep in—a grand total of forty-five minutes...

“Hey, River! River! Wake up. You’ll want to hear this. I have something exciting planned!”

“Pink? What is it!? I can’t imagine anything you can come up with that’s more appealing than spending the whole day in bed,” I countered, regretting not being more rude to her, if anything.

“The little foals at the daycare center. They’re always looking for interesting ponies to talk to them,” she explained, hopeful.

“Not interested.”

If I had been actually looking at her, I probably would have seen those all-powerful sad pony eyes. Unfortunately, her tone of voice had the same effect.

“But the foals were so excited to meet you…”

I felt a tightness in my chest and then a spike of anger as I jumped to my hooves, still tangled in the sheets. “What did you do!?”

“When I told them I knew you, they begged, and I couldn’t say know, and I thought you wouldn’t mind…” she said weakly, almost apologetic in her tone.

“Well, cancel,” I hissed. I’m not feeling too well. I stayed up late basically being Celestia’s show-and-tell, and I want to be yours even less.”

“Cancel!? I can’t! It—it’s too soon,” said Pink, with all the melodramatic power at her disposal.

“When?” I asked through clenched teeth, holding out hope that maybe I could still sleep in for an hour or two more..

She looked down and away. “Fifteen minutes,” she mumbled.

I made a startled horse noise, immediately covering my muzzle with my hooves upon realizing the shame of what I had just done. Taking a minute to recompose myself, I finally asked, “why didn’t you give me more notice?”

“Well, I figured you would want to sleep in…”

Rhodish was a creole language, crafted from both terrestrial and celestial sources. A classic case really. An old joke went that we kept all the swear words from both the prestige and the base languages.

I used every single one in that moment.

“And so, Robbo Reptile said goodbye to the rest of the tadfoals. He would go around the whole ocean, but he would come back. He would always be one of them, a tadfoal. The end,” I read reluctantly.

I shut the book definitively and my audience cheered

“Thank you. You were all good listeners. I hope you enjoyed it because I’ve gotta go now..”

This time I was subjected to tear-filled pony eyes.

“Oh come on, River, you’ve still got time,” Pink Diamond insisted.

I glared at her to such a degree that her ears drooped and she went full-on submissive.

“I have a question!”

“Yes, Flower Powder!” Pink Diamond responded, immediately perking back up.

“Have you flown yet?”

The tourniquet nested in my barrel tightened further. “No. I have not flown yet.”

How can I have the time with everypony roping me into stupid things!

“Me! Me! Where do you go to school?” A scratchy-voiced colt asked.

“Hogwash Academy. It floats on top of an invisible teapot in the center of the Earth,” I fibbed.

“How does it float if it’s underground?”

“Well that is a secret we carefully guard, my little pony,” I gently explained with princessly facade.

After turning my back on the throng of foals, I practically galloped away.

Since clearly she wasn’t trying to read my mood, I heard Pink Diamond’s hoofbeats following my own. Bowing to the inevitable I let her catch up to me.

“You did great, River! You’re really good with younger foals.”

I sighed. “Yeah, I had younger siblings. Sometimes I needed to entertain them.”

“Hey, River, I was wondering…”

“Hmm?” I grunted.

Please don’t let there be a second castle daycare!

“You look like something is bothering you.” She asked with a surprising insight for as dense as she could be. That should have been a red flag to me about my state. But I was in the midst of it so of course I didn’t notice.

I let out a shrill laugh. “Something? As in One thing? One thing!? ONE THING!!!??”

Pink’s ear dropped once more. “I’m just trying to help. I heard you had to go to a meet and greet last night, so I wanted to cheer you up with something fun.”

I was torn between ridiculing her idea of fun and praising her good intentions. I was heavily leaning towards the former, and in hindsight I still don’t know why I held back.

“Say, River, what activities have you picked for camp?”

I chuckled in chagrin. “Wonderful! I had missed that question so much!”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Pink squeaked meekly. “I was hoping to learn what you like and what makes you happy. The things I like don’t seem to excite you.

“Oh,” I said bashfully. “What I like. Hmm….”

“Oh! You like tag!” Pink blurted out.

“Not exactly. Annuity always cheats. I just like to exercise.” I couldn’t exactly tell her that I looked down on games for foals. “What are your favorite things?”

Pink Diamond smiled and took a deep breath. At the same instant a whimsical tune started playing.

“I gottago byePink!” I blurted out before breaking into a mad dash away from the crystal filly.

Satisfied that she wasn’t on my tail this time, I sat down at the bottom of a stairwell and took a few deep breaths. I would have to find lunch and plan out the rest of my day, but at that moment I just needed to recover. Some quiet time seemed like the sort of antidote I needed. The pressure slowly eased in my body, as if pockets of air were slowly leaking out through imperceptible pores in my skin.

I was at peace for a moment.

I wonder how long it will be before I’m in that daycare myself?

I re-inflated.

Monday would have normally been horrible as it stood. However, I had the misfortune of having to avoid ponies all afternoon on Sunday. While successful, it proved a pyrrhic victory, as I was nearly sound asleep in my bed before remembering I had homework to do. Granted, it wasn’t particularly long or hard homework, but it set the tone for the whole week.

Slouching back in my desk, I lazily looked over the small throng of ponies at school that had gathered to hear me make pronouncements.

“I get where you’re coming from Gilded. You want to stand out more, like Annuity, but still be friends with her. Maybe to go your own way, you can start hanging out with different ponies outside of school.”

That way I won’t have to be there to help you figure it out.

Gilded Acres smiled. “Good ideas, River. Thank you!”

“Sure”

No, please, keep laboring under the impression that I’m suddenly brimming with wisdom on pony things now that I’ve got these misshapen feather dusters on my flank.

I tuned back in to see a bunch of hooves raised, clamoring for my advice on stupid things.

“All right, Pestle. What fascinating matter do you want to submit for my pseudo-royal contemplation?”

Pestle inched closer, wearing a hungry smile. “Can we make this a private conversation?”

I blinked slowly, drained. Private? Yeah that would be nice, less ponies currently equaled better. “I’m fine with that.”

The ponies behind us moaned and griped as Pestle and I left to wander in search of a private place. This was harder than planned, as I had the feeling somepony was watching me, so we had no privacy. After all, it isn’t paranoia if they really are out for you. Pestle was surprisingly patient throughout this process. Altogether, we spent half an hour looking before most of our classmates lost interest and left. Even so, we needed to split up and meet again in the fillies’ restroom to have our conversation. As a precaution, I double-checked all the stalls for hooves to guarantee we were finally free of eavesdroppers.

I then turned to Pestle. “Ok, I think we’re finally good. What kind of advice did you need?”

“I don’t have anything I need advice on. I’m just curious about something.”

She let those words hang on the air for effect.

“That’s good, right?”

Pestle didn’t answer, instead turning away from me.

“There’s always been something about you that I couldn’t place. Something fascinating that called out to me. I didn’t like it at first, but now I know I want to be by your side. To understand you and your feelings...”

“If you’re confessing your love for me, yours is only the second lamest I’ve heard in the last week.”

Pestle turned and rolled her eyes with disdain and confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, Thank Celestia!” I cheered, exhaling.

“It’s more important than that,” Pestle insisted, tossing her purple mane as she shook her head.

“I’ve certainly had my share of important conversations this week, and it’s only Monday.”

“You suddenly joining the class immediately raised my suspicions. As you may not know, the Canterlot school system has something known as a staggered curriculum. As ponies become old enough for secondary school, they have their choice of schools. Each school will cycle through the same topics in history, science, Equish and the like. It’s like a train going in a circle. You can get on at any station, but once you’ve done a full loop you’ll have seen everything. Math is like a axis that forms the two-dimensional plane of learning on which a pony’s schooling takes place. If you transfer from a different city you just choose a school that is at the most similar point in the curriculum and that is teaching math at the same level.”

I nodded, intrigued. Nopony had explained that to me. “Nice analogy, but it seems a bit of a non-sequitur given your opening line. So why did you go on a long tangent about the school curriculum? It seems unprompted and pointless in the context of our current conversation.”

“Oh, it had a point. By your interest, you clearly hadn’t heard this before, which makes you more suspicious than you are already.”

“But—”

“You’re in pretty deep. I’d stop digging if I were you,” Pestle advised. “Anyway, transfers don’t happen often without an extensive feeling out. You came in unheralded. But that was only the first sign. An absurd thought came to me. One that most ponies would find crazy. So I did some feeling out. Suspecting something different, entirely, I mentioned reading your magical signature. My bluff scared you, even though I could never pull off advanced magic like that. In any event, what surprised me was that you knew what a magical signature was.”

Despite her suggesting I stop trying, I couldn’t help myself. "It--it was in the book. Making of a Queen, no?”

Pestle laughed condescendingly. “No. That story only skirts the perimeter of the concept. Besides you knew something most don't. That the spell to read them is more like a hoofprint than an incomprehensible jumble of information."

"Celestia told me?!" I asserted, taking a step forward and digging in my hooves.

"Why?”

“What do you mean why!?” I demanded, perturbed.

"I'm sorry, did she just so happen to take you aside and say, ‘by the way, I thought you might want more details on magical signatures—just in case you need to deny something to a nosy filly alchemist?"

"Err…."

"It's everything, River. Your unusual color-change reaction. It made no sense to me at the time, but now that I know the change was permanent, it all falls into place. And the fact that you apparently became a filly at some point makes it undeniable."

"I was always a filly!" I argued, taking a step back..

"Oh really? Then how did you use the urinal next to Thaumaturgical that one time?"

"What!? How—"

"I asked and he told me."

"Errr…"

"The fact that you are going to such lengths to deny it, only makes my final conclusion even more convincing."

She knows.

"Don't tell anyone."

Why am I so afraid?

“You’re another Xelning,” she said, casually but the triumph was there, plain on her face.

Not entirely inaccurate, but close enough to not matter. “Don’t tell anyone!”

"I wouldn't think of it. Buuuut…. I might be more inclined to not let something slip if you help me with a few experiments…"

"I can't do that!" Unless I want to be reverted to a baby... I’m already Twilight’s lab rat as it is!

"It's okay, I can imagine a bit of what you can and can't do. But an alicorn? There are so many things…”

The prolonged negotiation that followed only served to tighten further the knot in my chest.

“Hey River, you’re not wearing the pendant I gave you,” said Bubble Bauble. “If you want something else, I can help you pick something…”

“No, I’ll wear it. I just forgot…”

“River, our moms really work hard. We want to show her how much they mean to us,” said Raspberry Citrus.

I paused for a moment to think. I had no frame of reference. Few could relate to my experience, but I felt my mother had been one of the most unremarkable people I had even known. I often wondered if she only had us because she felt pressured to contribute.

“I don’t know. Maybe you can make them something?”

“What kind of things?” Blueberry Citrus asked.

How the blazes should I know!?

“Whatever you make her she’ll surely be happy with it. It’s the kind intent that counts.” I nearly gagged on the sentence. It was probably the most pony thing I had ever said.

“We still need to decide what to do, though,” Raspberry said, pensive. “I know! We’ll make a list of things and you can tell us which is best!”

I was so drained I didn’t even insist that my obligation to advise them ended there.

“It’s kind of embarrassing, but I’m not as good at magic as other colts my age. Like, totally embarrassing, right?” said Silver Lining.

Then don’t tell me about it!

“Do you have any advice on how to handle it?”

I shook my head in annoyance. “Weren’t you offering to teach me magic the other day? How can I help you when I just got this horn? Besides, I’m a slow learner when it comes to magic, too!”

“You mean you have already tried to learn on your own? You never mentioned that!”

“Yeah, kind of on my own, nothing formal,” I lied, backpedaling. It would be suspicious to let him know I already had a magic teacher.

I thought sprouting wings would be the end of walking the highwire. Nope! Still a constant juggling act.

“Concentrate…” Teaching Moment repeated for the umpteenth time. “Concentrate…”

I did. I concentrated and focused as much as I could. Yet, the blasted ball still refused to move. I reached out to kick the stupid levitation orb, but my magic teacher was quick enough to move it out of my reach.

“I was skeptical of this method of teaching you, but now that you’re an alicorn it makes sense.”

“So you were in on this too?” I hissed. How many knew? Laughing at my attempts to hide.

“I only had partial information. Don’t worry, you’re still improving,” he assessed calmly. “Keep at it.”

“Easy for you to say. Everything else is going terrible, and now I’m no good at magic anymore either! I was doing so well and now I’m back to square one.” I stomped my hooves and turned away.

Teaching Moment took a moment, possibly to consider how not to sound trite. “Your magic has fundamentally changed. Taking some time to adapt is natural. Persistence is a virtue.” He failed—and the thing growing in my chest contorted further.

“It just doesn’t stop!” I complained to Star. “Every single day is like this now!”

“It’s only been a week,” Star cautioned.

“It’s no less frustrating! When do I get a break?”

Star patted my head. “You’re doing great. I’m impressed, but at the same time your reaction to all this confuses me. You go along with a lot of it. Even if you don’t like it, you listen to the requests of three ponies every—”

“Two,” I corrected. “Three is too much like Cookie Court.”

“Cookie what?”

“Oh, nothing. It was kind of a thing from my dream,” I said abashedly. “Anyway, what were you saying?”

Star smiled and slowed her trot down a bit. “You don’t like the attention, but you have been extremely patient with your classmates. I would have expected you to… get angry, or I don’t know…” Star stammered.

I could tell she wasn’t being more direct with the details of her low expectations of me; however, her point was of interest to me. My hooves slowed to a halt as I realized the answer wasn’t anything obvious. It wasn’t a conscious decision I had made, but I nonetheless put up with all of this princess stuff without much complaint—outwardly anyway.

Star turned around and slowly walked back towards me, extremely interested in my answer.

I sighed. “My whole life I’ve been a servant to my duty. I never questioned those in positions of authority and was always subservient. Now, for whatever reason, ponies look up to me—look to me for guidance. I never had the opportunity to be a leader.” And now I know I was right for never wanting it.” I paused and rubbed my chin with a forehoof. “However, my obligation isn’t to myself, obviously, but to those who look up to me. My superior officers never said, ‘I don’t feel up to it today; you guys are on your own.’ I guess it’s kinda why I accepted that part as Celestia. Heh, fitting, don’t you think?”

Star said nothing, but she radiated warmth in response, probably figuring that I would dismiss anything she said as trite or reject the compliment. However, that aura conveyed her sentiment in a way that was much more difficult to refuse.

Arriving at the doorstep of my room, I noticed my door was ajar, to my chagrin. I briefly felt further constriction, but it eased when I saw who was in my room: Flower Power the maid. I hated to ask, but I availed myself of the opportunity to request her to bring me lunch. The mare was happy to comply, and the castle’s staff would have done so for any of the exchange ponies anyway, but it still felt like I was using my status to order her around.

After I finished eating in peace, I felt my mood lighten—or at least that was my expectation. Social interaction usually drained me, so I looked forward to having time to myself. No ponies were annoying me, yet I still couldn’t settle down. My inclination was to find something to do, but boredom, another too frequent guest, paid me another visit. I almost wished for some homework to do.

I facehooved. “What am I thinking? I have all those books!” I excitedly picked up a non-fiction text I had been enjoying a lot lately. The book pertained to the politics of Canterlot. I wouldn’t have picked it out had I not mistaken it for a different type of book entirely, but to my surprise it appealed to me. Sure, the noble lineages were boring topics, but seeing how the princesses’ role evolved concurrently with the emergence and subsequent development of the other branches of government was quite interesting.

After a few minutes, I came to the realization that I was laboring to focus on the words on the page. It took all my effort just to make it through two pages. Even then, I struggled to remember what I had just read.

Okay, this book just isn’t doing it for me today. Good thing I have plenty more. I thought hopefully.

The second book couldn’t hold my attention either, so I tried another and another before giving up. Taking a deep breath that did little to quiet the butterflies in my stomach, I lay down and accepted defeat. I felt as helpless as a fly enraptured in a sticky web. I could almost feel a physical throbbing from my mental anguish. Actually I did feel something.

I… I feel dizzy…

My stomach began churning suddenly, and I knew I had to be quick. I staggered to my door as I felt a burning spread throughout my body. For the first time, I knew the sensation of being overheated in my own fur, without the solace of being able to lose a layer without aid of a razor.

What is this…? I feel like I’m drowning… in fire…

I set my mind a singular task: make it to the bathroom. Although it seemed doable at first, the hall seemed to grow longer and longer with every step I took.

Finally, after an eternity, I made it to the door—which was locked.

I was ready to panic and curse my week of awful luck. Fortunately, the feeling was fleeting, as the door immediately opened to reveal Pink Diamond.

“Oh hi, River! I liked the advice you gave to—”

I dashed in and slammed the door on her the moment she was out. I was just in time, as I immediately started retching the moment my muzzle was above the toilet. I didn’t know how my tiny body could have held all that came back up.

I dragged my hooves out of the bathroom, only slightly relieved.

Pink Diamond was waiting for me.

“Are you all right, River?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine—just need to get back to my r—”

Before I knew it, the floor instantly closed the minimal distance between it and my head. I It wasn’t particularly painful, but I nonetheless oscillated in and out of consciousness as I felt somepony drag me to the infirmary. Then, everything went black.

Author's Note

My apologies for the delay will mean very little, so I'll try to make amends by getting the next done faster. There may be more errors than usual in this chapter, though, as I'm down an editor.

Chapter 37

I put a hoof to my head, which was still spinning with a low hum. A white lie that I wasn’t feeling any aftereffects had gotten me out of the infirmary. The childlike guilt weighed down on me somewhat, but I figured if I made it home free, my own bed would work just as well for recovery purposes while being far more welcoming.

As I hopped up the stairs, My newly appointed brigade of emotional support ponies trotted behind me, as if dancing to an unheard merry tune. If it weren’t for my new wings’ ability to demand attention, I might have appreciated the fact that most of them had stayed around for all four hours I had been unconscious. Half of them peeled off from the group as we passed by the lower floors. Half of the remainder bade me farewell shortly thereafter to return to the floors above, or to go to one of the upper level cafeterias.

As I neared my oasis of solitude, the last stragglers wished me well and split off from the pack as we reached their rooms. This made it seem like I was the one escorting them home as opposed to the other way around.

“River?”

“Yes, Pink?”

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Yeah…” I said with tempered exasperation.

She looked at me with eyes that contemplated several approaches to parting words, but in the end, she remained silent.

As I watched her walk away, I wondered if her genuine concern for me evidenced suspicions about my hidden circumstances. At least I knew with Pink that it wasn’t because I was an alicorn. Clearly, that was the type of pony she was.

Shaking my head, I sized up the door to my room. Before the obvious reason occurred to me, I was at first struck by how much bigger it appeared.

Just how small can ponies get? I wondered.

Surely there had to be a limit. I had seen babies and toddlers before, but no foals in between them and the youngest schoolponies heightwise.

Determined to cut off the unproductive reflection, I pushed my door open, walked inside, and extricated my neck from the handle of a plastic bag containing a care package from the infirmary. I felt weak, but I was left with the hope that I wouldn’t lose much more height or muscle mass for a while.

I sighed.

“What a waste of a Friday night…”

Not that I had anything to do, though. Great... leave and I get accosted by the masses; stay and boredom sets in.

I heard a characteristic knock.

“Come in…”

I was unsurprised when Celestia squeezed through the doorway.

“If you’re here to worry about me, I’ve had plenty of that already. Ponies I’m pretty sure I’d never met were huddled around the bed.”

Celestia put a hoof to her chin before her expression settled on a sheepish smile. “While I appreciate your ability to anticipate certain developments and sentiments you view as predictable, I’m afraid I will have to worry this time.”

I took a moment to formulate a witty response, but I was drained in that regard as well.

“Can we do this in the morning? I kind of want to get to bed. I’m not sleepy, or anything, but I just want to wash away this sluggish feeling.”

“I’ll keep it short. I promise. First, I want to apologize. You were thrust into a new, turbulent state of affairs that few ponies can relate to. I had assumed that to mitigate the pressure of your new role it would be advisable to delay the metaphorical “initiation.” In truth, I should have acquainted you with the tools to cope as soon as possible.” She took a moment to consider how to proceed. "Not to make excuses, but I might have thought you had already adapted to this world. In reality, you still are adapting in many ways. ”

I looked down. “No, I’m not going to let you take the blame. I’ve risked my life on numerous occasions and even laid it down for the sake of family and the human spirit, as I’m sure you very well know.” My wings spasmed. “The fact that the stupid demands of foals could knock me out is pathetic. I might be a young child physically at this time, but it’s no excuse.”

Celestia smiled hesitantly. “I would insist otherwise, but that, at the moment, promises to be an unproductive debate. In any event, your anxiety, although it could have been better managed, is an understandable response. In fact, you probably handled it better than some grown ponies would have.”

“I guess…” I started to look away, somewhat self-conscious. Despite Celestia’s best efforts to treat me like an equal, I still felt like the child in such an exchange. “I take it there’s a more substantial reason you’re here?”

“Again, your guess is spot-on. I’ll cut to the chase. You need to get out more and do the things that you enjoy. But that doesn’t mean you have to rush to embrace pastimes typically enjoyed by ponies. Or foals. Or fillies, for that matter.”

“Then what do I do? Virtually everything I’ve done here has been forced. When I’m not occupied with some scheduled event, I’ve been fairly bored. I can only read so many books.”

“Twilight would disagree,” Celestia teased. “Regardless, I want to reiterate the whole “get outside” part. You may not want to interact with others, but ponies are naturally social beings.”

Celestia took a few long strides and hugged me.

I enjoyed it for a few moments, but then pulled away. “Hey… is this the whole “seven hugs a day thing?”

The princess laughed. “That’s not entirely accurate. Sure, it helps. The study I was referencing didn’t find that that many is necessary for good mental health; it’s just that a certain amount of hugs, or more led to statistically better moods and emotion.” Celestia shrugged. “In any event, I’ve set up some activities for you this weekend.”

I recoiled and then deflated.

Celestia responded immediately, flailing her forehooves. “No, it’s not anything you’ll hate too much, I promise.”

I sighed. “All right, give me the rundown.”

“Well, one bit of bad news: you probably will want to avoid the Junior Royal Guards.”

I blinked in slight surprise. “Why?” I asked out of curiosity, but I had my own reasons not to go.

“Well, you don’t like ponies congregating and deferring to you. Colts and fillies with an interest in the guard will probably be more prone to both.”

“Makes sense,” I said lamely. “What else.”

Celestia smiled. “I do have a little surprise for you.” Without delay, she levitated a small, familiar ring towards me.

“This again? I haven’t touched that ring lately. It is somewhat useless now that I’m better at using my hybridized magic ability. Why should I care?”

The elder alicorn walked around me as she spoke: “Reasonable objections, certainly. But I thought that ‘Lua’ might be yearning for soccer practice without the distraction wings will bring.”

My tail started to wag behind me. “Really!? It can hide my wings? That’s great! I’ll wear it all the time!”

Celestia put a hoof on my withers. “Now don’t get carried away,” she cautioned. “It still works as before. If ponies are expecting to see the wings, they still will.”

I pursed my lips. “Dang it. I was hoping my classmates would leave me alone more if I didn’t have two constant reminders of my pseudo-royal status jutting out of my body.”

The regal mare backed up to give me more space. “That’s not all. I have a few more outings planned for you. But first, I should probably mention that you’ll be able to sleep in tomorrow. I made sure the other exchange students would be going on Trusty’s trip to the zoo.”

I tried to hide my ever so slight disappointment. I had wanted to tour the zoo, but I wanted a breather even more. Considering this, I nodded to Celestia.

“I also have a surprise for you tomorrow evening.” Celestia paused and put a hoof to her chin. “Though upon voicing it, I’m realizing that since all of these are supposed to be surprises, wouldn’t this one be a double surprise? In any event, my lips are sealed. As for Sunday, I contacted some specialists to help you explore your interests and natural affinities.”

“So you’re sending me to some office!?” I whined indignantly, to my own annoyance. “I thought I told you before: no therapists.”

I watched her glittering mane sweep side to side as Celestia shook her head knowingly. “Oh, they’re certainly not some stodgy professionals. Give them a chance; the experience will probably exceed your expectations.”

I yawned. “I’d debate this, but I’m still worn down after all that happened. I suppose one benefit of these wings is that I can kick you out without overstepping.”

The colossal mare giggled. “I hate to break it to you, but it’s exactly those wings that are the reason we’re not done here.”

“Oh?”

She took a deliberate breath. “You won’t like this part, but now that you have wings, you have some basic hygiene and maintenance responsibilities.”

I pounded a back hoof on the floor. “I can’t even move the blasted things yet! Why should I have to maintain them if they do nothing for me?”

“It will take time,” Celestia voiced, repeating the old line. “Your brain is currently being rewired to account for new appendages. The neural pathways will take time to develop. Regardless, besides social niceties, failing to remove damaged, or shifted feathers will interfere with new feathers as they grow in. It will hurt at first, but that fades fairly quickly.”

I sighed. “You speak from experience?”

“I have only a vague recollection of learning myself, but I had to teach Cadance and Twilight rather recently, though.”

I was briefly overcome with shame. How did I not consider something so obvious? Is my intellect slipping now?

I hopped up on the bed. “Fine let’s get this out of the way.”

The princess took a running start and gently jumped on my mattress, deforming it and sending me bouncing into her barrel. To my relief, she had splayed her legs to avoid stomping me. For a moment I writhed like a turtle would with my back to the mattress. “Please don’t do that again,” I urged, annoyed.

“Sorry...” she offered, before jumping headlong into her work.

I braced for impact as she yanked the first feather hard. I flinched, but at least it informed me regarding what to expect. The monarch had curled her body around mine, just out of contact. This added to what was already an intimate experience. I didn’t have the best view, but to me it seemed like she was pulling feathers at random. What occupied me the most though was the strange sensation of my wings being handled. Muscles I had never felt before stretched out as if receiving long-awaited actuation.

Surprisingly quickly, and with no particular warning, Celestia declared herself done and motioned to make a quick exit so as to not overstay her welcome. Consequently, it felt unusual that I was the one to gesture her back in.

“Hmm… what is it, Alice? Don’t worry: you’ll get used to it in time.”

“Oh, uh… why was that so brief?”

“While large by some standards, you have the wings of an infant alicorn. There’s simply not that much territory to cover. I take it that’s not what you wanted to ask though?”

I looked away in subtle shame before forcing my eyes back in line with hers. I started silently feeling out for the appropriate words. “If your specialists don’t work, or the ponies at school keep pestering me, how can I avoid fainting again? After all, my impression is that being the center of attention is my new reality.”

“It’s a good point…” Celestia offered, clearly stalling for thought. “There’s not a lot you can do. After all, it’s not like there’s a tonic you can take for stress. I could suggest developing some coping strategies, but that might very well require a therapist.”

“No.”

“All right. Well, I suppose there is a remedy you can apply as needed...” Celestia propositioned ominously.

“Oh?” I responded with naive interest.

Then it hit me.

With a bittersweet smile, Celestia encircled me, magicked off the lights and lay down with her horn faintly glowing.

No…

I felt her fur barely contact my own as warmth flowed into me.

I sighed and nodded my head.

Just... this… once. I thought firmly.

Soccer was wonderful for the anticipation. The ponies on my team were genuinely happy to see me. For some reason, this mattered to me a bit more than it might have with another group. One interpretation was that it was genuine camaraderie, but it was premature to expect that of our team of neophytes.

I was feeling great, and I was playing great, dashing around the field with boundless energy. My handle was still a little shaky, but I didn’t mind all that much. My feigned zeal was somehow infectious. There was a warning light going off in my head that I was enjoying this persona a little too much; however, I didn’t even care at that time if my zest for the game was real or not. Having as much fun as I was, I expected to crush Blue Horizon in whatever silly game she came up with.

Well, she managed to beat me in the cone weaving drill.

As forced as her whole ‘rival’ schtick was, she seemed to genuinely enjoying gloating. I let her have her moment—at least until I couldn’t stifle my amused laughter anymore.

“Lua, come on! You’re not supposed to laugh! I beat you!”

I bid her farewell with a wave and turned my back, still chuckling while trying to recover my composure.

What a great day! I wonder what Celestia has planned? Well, whatever it is, I doubt it could ruin my mood at this point.

Even if every pair of eyes in the suite weren’t on me, I'd still have felt awkward clapping my front hooves together. Of all the gestures I had to modify after becoming a quadruped, this was easily the least effective transition to make. Excepting finger gestures that is.

“All right. Nauticals. Let’s go,” I parroted flatly as I watched the marginally comprehensible game unfolding beneath me.

“Hmph. How does a total tomcolt not know anything about hoofball? You can’t even cheer right.”

“Be quiet, Annuity,” I remarked with disinterest.

“I mean, here I was hoping to be away from the filly princess circus, but no, you even follow me to my father-daughter time.”

“Be quiet, Annuity.”

The bronze filly shook her head in disgust. “You ascend your way into the best seats in the house, and you don’t even avail yourself of the connections—plus you don’t even have any friends you can invite.”

I had to admit that one stung.

“Be quiet, Annuity. You didn’t bring anypony either.”

“Well I would have! But Zap had some stupid birthday party to go to!” Annuity asserted defensively.

“As opposed to your stupid birthday party?” I casually snarked.

Besides, if Zap were here, I’d have to endure her pretending the three of us were best friends. Or, worse: trying to make us all best friends.

My adversary motioned towards me, readying an assertive rejoinder, but she drew back to think for a second longer. “Don’t pretend you didn’t have fun.”

“You got me there…” I muttered, but admitting defeat was inimical to me. “But then again, that was because of Monocle and Zap. See: I do have friends.”

“I’m so happy to hear that, River.”

I felt a chill, being caught red-handed. I should have known... Ponyfeathers!

“Oh, Princess Celestia. Welcome back! I was just telling River that the Brookers are so much better. We totally weren’t fighting, or anything.”

“I’m happy to hear that!” Celestia repeated, with a warm, knowing smile. “So, you two know each other pretty well?

“Of course,” Annuity insisted, completely forced and transparent. “We hang out all the time!”

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be school without Annuity,” I said. "Can’t live with her, can’t get away from her.”

Annuity exerted herself to keep her facade of a smile steady. For the fun of it, I did my best to mimic her. Celestia herself struggled to keep a straight face.

“Princess Celestia!” a mare wearing what looked like a black evening gown called out.

“Hmm?”

“I was going to write to you regarding zoning ordinances that impact my business. Would you care to discuss it and save both of us a boring read?”

Celestia stifled a look of disappointment that I was just able to discern. “Very well,” she conceded before moving to the other side of the suite with her.

Annuity observed and patiently waited for Celestia to be out of earshot. When she felt she was clear, the filly sat up in her seat and looked me over with disdain. “Are you so ill-mannered, or just etiquette-blind? Waltzing in here looking like that!"

I inhaled, and readied the words to respond, but I quickly changed course.

“I’m not even going to ask. And also, the second one.”

Annuity’s disappointment showed through her scowl. “Obviously I’m talking about clothes. Surely, you’re not telling me that you don’t own clothes? Even with the princess treatment and everything?”

“No, I don’t. I’m trying to watch the game, so if you would leave me alone that’d be great.”

“What a feeble excuse. The game went to halftime. There’s nothing going on!”

“That cheer show is something; otherwise the alternative is continuing to talk to you.”

Annuity pursed her lips in distaste.

A cheap one-liner, but it worked.

She took a moment to regroup. “Yeah, it makes sense you’d be all for the violent part of stallions headbutting each other.” Annuity smoothed over her mane with a hoof. “A mare’s eye for the game takes years to develop.”

“You don’t seem to dislike the violence from what I can gauge.” I paused as a thought occurred to me. “Before, you made fun of me for being effeminate, and now I’m too much of a tomcolt? Make up your mind, would you?”

“As if that’s on me. I’m not the one lying about my gender.”

“So? There are different expectations for colts and fillies where I’m from,” I lazily provided. It was true, but it didn’t make much sense as a response in hindsight.

Annuity seemed irritated by my nonchalance. “Neighbraska may be a hick place, but it can’t be that different. It’d be one thing if you were one way or the other, but you’re too much a filly for a colt and, too much a colt for a filly. The thing is that you’re clearly too—oh, Princess Celestia! Hi!”

Saved.

I wasn’t even a little bit curious, about what Annuity was going to say next.

“If I’m not mistaken, did I hear an argument?” Celestia innocently intoned.

Annuity shook her head emphatically. “An argument? Of course not. No, no arguments here. It was just a minor clash of opinions. River told me he didn’t think the Brookers storied history was a good reason to be a fan.”

Celestia petted me. “River, I thought I’d raised you better than that," she said joshingly. "Having witnessed the franchise establish itself from the ground up, I can tell you that it’s been a wonderful journey as a fan.”

I quickly conjured a rejoinder, but paused when it occurred to me how strange it was to be invested in this exchange.

“That’s all well and good,” I said, pensively, “but considering Annuity hasn’t been alive for nearly that long, isn’t she just joining the bandwagon?”

Luna happily pranced towards me. “Huzaah! Well said, young River. Would you care to ‘bump hooves?’”

It took me an awkward second before I lightly bumped my tiny hoof on hers.

“Now Sister, as I always say, the real bandwagon is made up of those who became Nauticals fans after they drafted Short Stuff. Where were you through all the losing?”

Luna posed dramatically, indignant. “I. Was on. THE MOON!”

Celestia playfully tossed her mane. “My point still stands.”

The sisters very briefly embraced and walked across the room.

Annuity looked both ways before continuing. “Ahem. As I was saying, the real reason I can’t stand you right now is that ever since you ascended in the most obnoxious fashion, I—”

“Oh, River,” Celestia casually interjected. “I’m going on a snack run. Do you want anything?”

Why would you do it yourself when you have so many guards? Whatever.

“Yeah, get me one of those ‘pretzel’ things. I liked those.”

Annuity tapped her front hoof on her chair as she waited, clearly annoyed. Meanwhile, the hoofballers began taking the field again to discuss the gameplan for the second half. It was remarkably easy to spot Squirt’s dad in the huddle. The other players were among the largest stallions I had ever seen, but Short Stuff, compared to the largest player I could spot on the Nauticals’ bench, was smaller by at least as much height as Bulwark had on me.

I frowned. I suppose it’s still possible we can make up, but she was pretty upset...

“—the worst part is that you went after mine!” Annuity ranted.

I blinked and looked her over, as if somehow expecting to infer what she had just finished saying. I then realized that I didn’t care.

“I don’t want yours. Not everything you have is something to covet.”

For a vague guess of a response, it sure unnerved her. Accompanied by a sour facial expression, her mane seemed to become somewhat more prickly.

“So you do think you’re better than me!?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, I’m satisfied with what I have. Or had, anyway.”

A quick jolt traveled through me. Oh darn! Did I just imply I didn’t like being an alicorn. That won’t go over so well…

Annuity looked genuinely offended. It was a nice optic.

“You—you have the nerve to say that when—”

“I’m back,” Celestia said serenely.

Annuity flinched. “Oh you’re back already? Not that that’s a problem, or anything.”

“Here’s your pretzel River.”

I eagerly grabbed it and bit off a corner. It did not disappoint. As I savored the salty taste, it was as if I could transcend my currently dour social environment. Bringing me back to the moment, Celestia regarded me warmly, as if telegraphing an unspoken understanding.

“It was three bits,” Celestia indicated casually, as if routine. For a moment I was puzzled. While I did have my bit purse, why would she…

Oh...

As complex as my feelings toward the alicorn mare were, I was blown away by the small opportunity she had presented me with.

“Okay, three bits,” I announced as I hooved them over. I suppose arena food was overpriced in any world, but in this case I was glad to overpay my own way.

Both of us studied Annuity’s complexion carefully as our charade ran its course. Over a few seconds it somehow devolved from confused curiosity to lingering guilt.

“You—you buy your own concessions?” Annuity asked in disbelief.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked, smug.

“Nothing’s free—even for princesses.” Celestia provided. “Oh, excuse me. I seem to have left my program with Building Block. Be right back,” Celestia said to once again dismiss herself.

Those programs are free. Why would she.... Oh, I get it...

Glancing at Annuity again, I saw her scanning the room, anticipating Princess Celestia’s prompt return. When it didn’t happen immediately, I saw the emotion she was channeling before return, as if somepony had left her on pause.

“You were saying…” I muttered, bored.

“That pendant. That right there is everything you took from me!”

It was a childish and outlandish thing to say, yet this felt different from any conversation I could ever recall having with Annuity. I could tell that she wasn’t just being the spoiled, melodramatic squeaky toy she usually was.

“What do you mean?” I acquiesced by asking.

“Bubble Bauble! You stole Bubble Bauble from me!” She shrieked as a tear fell loose.

“Huh? But she said it was a peace offering—that she didn’t want to be friends! So why would you—”

“I know what she said! But I get to hear what she really thinks—that it’s her dream to make accessories for a princess. If—if that’s her dream, then I know she’ll choose you!”

“I barely know her!” I barked back, beginning to react to her agitation. “Besides, you have plenty of follow—errr—friends.”

“Followers?! You’re one to talk—”

“I’m back!” Celestia announced, with a broad, knowing grin.

“Oh yes, followers— River, be sure to treat the ponies that look up to you well. Don’t treat them as stand-ins for real friends, though; some just want to ride your fetlocks. Right, Princess?”

“Hmm… that sounds right...” Celestia mused.

Annuity self-consciously combed her reddish mane. “I’ve got plenty of friends. I’m not jealous, or anything, you know?” Annuity forced a laugh.

I took advantage of the lull to take a big bite out of my pretzel.

“If you say so,” Celestia provided unhelpfully.

Awkward silence ensued. Given the ponies involved I took it on myself to end it quickly.

“You said this was a home game for the Nauticals, so why is everypony cheering for the Brookers. I know they both have Canterlot in the name, but the cheer squad and PA announcer are for the Nauticals. What’s the deal? I thought that meant the Nauticals would have more fans.”

“That’s just a Brookers-Nauticals matchup for you: the crowd will always be for this town’s more prestigious franchise,” Celestia explained.

I suppose if most ponies are for the other team, I wouldn’t want to go against the majority…

I felt the temptation to smack myself. What a pony thing to think! Following the herd mentality.

“Oh, the game is starting again,” I said, pointing out the obvious with the hope of dispelling the unusual sensation of Annuity’s veiled hostility.

“Oh, ponyfeathers,” Celestia said unconvincingly. "I forgot my tiara in the restroom. I must take my leave, however briefly. Be back so~on.”

Celestia cantered off happily.

Okay, now I know she’s doing it on purpose.

Annuity watched Celestia exit the box seats area and for a minute afterwards checked her surroundings timidly, as if she expected Celestia to teleport back in at any moment.

Then again, I suppose she actually could...

Annuity sighed; then she took a deep breath. “You may think you can push me around now that you have the masses on your side, but I won’t have it! You think I don’t know about your Anti-Annuity Alliance?’

I fought back my initial impulse to better consider my response. There wouldn’t be any sense in antagonizing her further. If I were to rebuff her, I’d want to do it in a witty fashion.

“If I’m to be honest, it could just as easily be called The Alliance That Doesn’t Do Anything. We met at a soda joint one time. That’s about it.”

Annuity hesitated as if she disagreed.

“Well keep it that way! I may not be able to do anything about your princess posse, but stay out of my way! It’s my school and a set of wings, and a horn won’t change that!” She commanded.

“Oh, Princess Celestia! How long have you been there?” I remarked jovially.

Annuity glared at me, as if branding me a liar. When the heavy hoofbeats came into earshot, however, her ears drooped.

“P—princess Celestia… It’s not what it sounds like...” Annuity squeaked, as bashful as I had ever seen her.

Celestia leaned close to us to whisper. “No need to pretend, Annuity. I know you’re Canterlot First’s little bully.”

Annuity somehow looked pale, which was pretty impressive given the fur and everything.

“How did you…”

“Oh, you have quite a reputation, young lady. Or did you not consider that word would get back to me after trying to hurt my student, Pink Diamond?”

Annuity’s mane suddenly became frazzled, as if combed by a statically charged grooming tool. “I—eeeep!”

The filly had tried to hop out of her seat a little too quickly, which sprung back into a retracted position and pinched her tail. I could see the tears in her eye, that she was trying to fight back.

Celestia showered Annuity with stern disapproval without uttering a word.

“What… what will you do…” Annuity stammered.

Celestia hummed. “Beg your pardon?”

Annuity froze. Being asked to verbalize her guilt and consequences was too much for her to bear, and a long minute passed.

“If you’re asking if I’m going to punish you, the answer is no,” the alicorn finally said, mercifully.

Annuity was momentarily happy before confusion set in.

Celestia patted my foreleg with a wing. “After all, I already have River on site to do the princessing for me. It’s outside of my jurisdiction.”

If I knew Celestia, there were probably unenumerated political considerations preventing her from smothering the underwhelming threat of a schoolyard bully.

“Hey! Annuity!” said an emerald pegasus with a bronze mane as she dive bombed into the seat next to Annuity.

“Oh, Nest Egg. What took you so long?” Annuity asked, basking in the relief of the welcome distraction.

“The team store is really neat! You should’ve come with me. You too, Princess River!”

As much as I disliked being labeled as peppy myself, this word fit the bill for Annuity’s gift sister.

“Our dad’s back too. Come on!” the pegasus urged.

Annuity curtsied. “Nice catching up with you, River. See you Monday.”

Celestia waved as Annuity slowly backed away, before finally turning around and galloping the short distance to the other side of the area.

“Well, that was fun,” Celestia giggled, clearly pleased with herself.

“Oh great master, teach me your ways,” I said facetiously.

“Sure, but first there’s a game to watch, and unless you had a change of heart, we’re on different sides.”

“Absolutely not, I’m not pulling for Annuity’s team! Let’s go Nauticals!”

Witnessing my team’s first win as a newly minted fan almost made up for me having to put up with Annuity.

Almost.

I pranced out of the athletics facility with a feeling of bittersweet satisfaction. Although I beat out my competition, there was no denying that my athleticism continued to wane as my body’s age continued in reverse.

“Wow, River that was mighty fun,” Applebloom said, breathing only slightly heavily. “That reminds me of the Sisterhooves Social with all the obstacles and everythin’.”

“Ha… yeah, except Rainbow Dash isn’t here to see how awesome I am!” Scootaloo said after a long breath in.

Sweetie Belle was dragging her hooves as we walked out of the reception area. We made it about ten feet before the unicorn filly collapsed onto the cobblestone. “I… I thought... my cutie mark... would make me more… have more energy”

“Yeah, River you don’ even have yours!” Applebloom remarked.

I spun about to face her. “My endurance is an earth pony’s. The skill is all my own!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I was able to spot Star Chart in the clouds. This pegasus feat of telescopic vision served as a reminder of my enhanced alicorn senses. It also served as a reminder that I was under constant supervision for this outing with my “sort of friends.”

Once Sweetie Belle had recovered, we continued trotting along with no particular destination in mind.

“I don’ get it. You know you like running and the like, but you still don’ have your cutie mark. Why’s th—”

“It must not be her special talent,” Scootaloo interjected.

Sweetie Belle stopped to contemplate something.

“What is it, Sweetie Belle?” Applebloom asked.

“Is there a difference between what she likes and what makes her happy?” Sweetie mused.

“Could be,” I provided, finally participating in the conversation about myself. “And I thought we agreed that this isn’t about getting my cutie mark. You’re helping me have fun and we’ve done that.”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like a job well done yet. Normally our cutie marks can tell us when it’s mission accomplished,” Scootaloo insisted.

Beginning to recognize my surroundings, I could tell we were nearing the park. Whether the fillies had planned it that way, or not was a mystery.

In a way, mirroring me getting my bearings in terms of location, I spontaneously started to take stock of my life. I was hanging out with fillies and trying to make things work as a pony. In some ways I resisted, while others were welcome changes. But that fear of losing myself was constantly there.

Will I just slowly be changed without realizing it? So slow that I don’t even have the cue to put up resistance…

“What’s the matter, River?” Applebloom asked, curious.

“Oh, just some complicated… homesickness, I guess you could call it…”

Before she could inquire further I countered with my own question: “You know, when Celestia said she put together a team to help me de-stress, I never thought it’d be you three. Actually, I was relieved that you would be the ones to help me, as opposed to some misguided social worker…”

Or Pinkie Pie.

“Why River, that makes it sound like you already knew us,” said Applebloom teasingly.

“Oh, umm… that’s—I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re certainly a different type of filly,” said Sweetie. “Not that that’s a bad thing.”

“I… I…”

Scootaloo waved her hoof dismissively and then started fixing her somewhat unkempt mane as she interrupted me: “Well, being an alicorn is pretty unusual I guess.”

“That must be it,” I said all too quickly, wanting to get off the subject as soon as possible.

“We made it!” Sweetie cheered as we crossed over the grassy perimeter of the park.

I took a moment to sniff the freshly cut grass and the chin-level flowers. I found their aroma more appealing than usual, but I took a pause when I realized I probably wanted to eat them. The park was much as I remembered it: foals running around, elderly ponies feeding an assortment of birds and even an aspiring artist painting the scene.

“So did you plan coming here, or not?” I asked.

“Planned!” Scootaloo shouted emphatically, as if gloating.

“We had a back-up plan,” Sweetie explained. “We thought you might be like us. We spent so much time focusing on what we hadn't tried, or wanted to do, that we completely ignored our real talent—helping others.”

“But how does that relate to me?” I asked, beginning to hope they’d fibbed and not thought this through.

“Well I reckon it’s mighty hard to have fun by yourself,” Applebloom provided.

“Other ponies can teach you things too!” said Sweetie. “Helps you figure out who you are.”

“And alicorns have to help ponies anyway, right?” Scootaloo argued. “It just might work for you!”

I already get enough of that at school… I thought, contemplating whether to voice my feelings.

“—and we did what you wanted, so now you can try what we want to do. That only makes it fair.”

I opened my mouth to speak, and only then did it occur to me I had no riposte ready. I sighed. “I guess…”

“Great!” Sweetie cheered. “Everypony fan out! When you find a pony that needs advice about themself, bring them with you. We’ll meet up by that tree.”

“Got it! I’ll look over there then!” Scootaloo announced.

The three of them darted off in different directions before I could contemplate how little direction they had given me.

I sighed.

This won’t be fun…

“You know, I like knitting and bowling and origami and swimming, you know. So many things, you know!” said my pale yellow mentee.

“Well which do you like best?” I inquired, clearly having no idea what I was doing. "I mean, I guess you could do all those activities at camp, but which hobby does the best to define you?”

“I don’t know,” she said. "Can you tell me?”

“Why would I tell you what to think?” I asked, feeling gullible for even asking.

“My mommy says alicorns know best!”

I looked to the so-called crusaders for an assist, but they apparently didn’t discern the message.

“Uh-huuuh,” I uttered, exasperated.

“I’ve had my mark for quite some time now. I’m proud of it, like anypony would be, but I am a little let down.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, relieved at apparent progress. “What don’t you like about your mark?"

He massaged his unusual poofy, gray mane. “What do you mean? I love cooking; it is my passion.”

He… he just said—

“It’s just that I find it too limiting at times, if you get what I’m saying.”

“Limiting how?”

At this rate, I won’t need a therapist. I basically am one right now!

“It’s just that as much as I love a gourmet meal, I want to do more than cook. I want to concoct new drinks that will dazzle the taste buds.”

I let the obvious sink in for a moment before voicing it: “You know, there’s nothing stopping you from making drinks too.”

“I—I… never thought of that.”

I couldn’t refrain from facehooving.

“I don’t know, girls. I think this is a dead end. I haven’t learned anything.”

“You… might be right,” Sweetie confessed.

Scootaloo stomped a hoof. “No, I’m sure this will work. Keep trying!”

“HEY, River! I found somepony!” Applebloom shouted as she galloped towards the tree. “Here he is!”

Looking down the little hill, a familiar green and gray colt came into view.

“Thaumaturgical Spectacle!?” I shouted in surprise. When not shortened, his name never stopped being silly to say.

“Woah, River? What a coincidence! I didn’t know you had so many filly friends. I suppose it makes sense that you would hang out with them instead now.”

“I didn’t think you would need cutie mark counselors,” I commented, hoping to break the ice.

“Yeah, I joined the JRG hoping to figure out my cutie mark, remember?”

“Oh, right...” That felt so long ago now.

“Enough small talk. Let’s get to investigating!” Scootaloo declared.

“So, Canterlot was actually chosen as the capital because it had history with all three races. The earth ponies originally discovered the area and its fertile soil. The pegasi built one of Equestria’s first weather factories in the clouds above, in the now abandoned Canterlot Heights. And the unicorns? We all know the story of the Order of the Master Librarians. They were unicorns that not only changed magic, but changed how we thought of magic. Whereas previously magic was limited by the number of discrete spells that could be formulated, the Order fostered the theory of interchangeable mana. Which although that theory is now defunct, from its ashes rose something greater—”

Scootaloo yawned, while the other crusaders did their best to listen politely.

It took me a second to realize Thaumaturgical was looking at me for input.

“Well your mark is sparks, so maybe that’s to ‘spark’ a conversation with your interesting trivia.” I proposed.

“It’s possible,” Spectacle admitted. “That’s not quite what I want to do, though. I’m not that much of a talker. It’s just fun to share with Beakington and whoever else will listen.”

A half-formed thought rapidly coalesced in my head, but it immediately faded.

“I guess we need to try something else,” I acknowledged weakly.

“Here we have a Yakyakistani beetle. You can best identify it by its pair of hooked horns. They’re useless as weapons, but it’s how they evolved to deter birds from snatching it up. Here you go!”

I tried to hold back my disgust as Spectacle foisted the insect on me. My first thought was that it was harder than I expected it to be. I began to thank the heavens for the decreased sensitivity of hooves versus hands, but almost as soon as I had thought so, it started squirming around and I dropped it.

I was a little bit surprised when Thaumaturgical let it run off. Instead, he lit up his horn and a fallen leaf resonated with his magic. In a slow and orderly fashion, a small unit of ants marched on top of it, loading up like passengers on a ferry.

Except they’re already at their destination.

And there’s no water.

Okay, that one was a bad analogy.

“How does that spell work, anyway?” I asked, somewhat bashful about my distracted train of thought.

Thaumaturgical lit up. “You see, it draws organic components from the nearby flora and rearranges them into forms that emit a scent that imitates ant pheromones.”

I nodded. I was at least somewhat interested in what he was saying.

“You really do like insects. I know there’s not a straightforward connection to your mark, but that has to be your passion, right?”

Thaumaturgical shook his head. I looked around to the three filly career counselors and they seemed just as confused as I was. Scootaloo was fidgeting, Applebloom had a look of concentration that nonetheless failed to hide her impatience, and Sweetie Belle struck me as worried.

“Oh, look. This ant has a three-segment body. That means it’s a future queen!”

“How do you even see that?” I asked. My vision had improved as far as distance went, but I was no better than before at perceiving tiny things up close.

“Well, there’s a spell I use on my glasses when I’m out searching for bugs. It has a simple magnification effect, but it works by essentially creating multiple small sets of glasses within each lens. In other words, it uses compounded magnification!”

I felt the obvious slap me in the face. Wait a minute…is it really that simple?

I shuffled my feet slightly. “Sorry if this is obvious, or if you’ve heard this before, but could your talent be explaining, or teaching, magic?”

Spectacle looked down. “So you think so too, huh?” he asked.

I looked to the crusaders for support, and on cue, Scootaloo jumped into the fray.

“Wait a minute! You already had an idea about your cutie mark!?”

“Yes… but I didn’t want—I… I don’t know what I want.”

“Whatever your talent is it’s special because it’s yours, and nopony can take it away from you!” Applebloom provided tritely, albeit energetically.

I studied Thaumaturgical carefully. While pony facial expressions and body language were still a challenge for me, even I could tell that there was something deeper at work.

I inhaled. “I can understand why you don’t want that to be your talent. I certainly can’t see you in Ms. Fizzle’s job.”

The unicorn colt nodded, bidding me to continue.

“Oh, and I have a magic teacher now, and he must be getting impatient with me. He’s an academic and knows so much, but he’s stuck mentoring me, a lousy student.”

Spectacle shook his head. “I don’t think you can call yourself a lousy student, at least not yet. Magic can be difficult for some ponies and natural as breathing to others. You’re just starting out.”

My pleasant expression cracked as I started to wonder how many times I would carelessly undermine the false notion that I just got my horn.

“You are right I think,” Spectacle added. “Teaching isn’t what I want to do. At least not to foals. Other than maybe Clever Theorem, the ponies in our class don’t want to be there. Most of the time, even I don’t want to be there.”

Sweetie Belle faintly frowned, perplexed. “I suppose you could always teach older ponies at a university…”

“Yeah, you can teach that fancy magic theory Twilight loves to talk about,” Applebloom said, hopeful, in an attempt to inject positivity into the discussion.

“I don’t know,” Thaumaturgical said, for what felt like the fifth time. “I guess what I like is learning new spells and testing them.”

“Why don’t you do that then?” Scootaloo asked, not even bothering to conceal her impatience.

Thaumaturgical sighed. “I’ve asked myself that, but I’ve never come up with a career, or even an idea for contributing to society. Besides, I don’t want to lock myself in a room studying new spells; I’m not that type. I want to share magic with others, but…”

I scanned the crusaders, vainly hoping they had an idea better than mine.

“But you don’t want to be a teacher?” Scootaloo asked rhetorically.

“Yeah, I know it’s confusing. Sorry,” Thaumaturgical apologized, resignedly.

I guess it’s up to me. I thought. My idea is kind of lame and obvious. It then occurred to me that lame and obvious solutions had a tendency to be effective, at least when dealing with foals.

I sighed. “I know you’ve thought about this a lot more than us, but could you maybe be a sort of magic consultant?”

The unicorn colt looked like he was scrutinizing the ground while in thought.

“Could something like that work?” He asked to nopony in particular.

“Sure it can!” Sweetie Belle interjected. "My sister knows lots of spells related to her talent. But she’s always talking with other seamstresses and designers. Sometimes they even exchange spells.”

Thaumaturgical perked up slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah!” “I think so.” “Definitely.” “Sure!” we all blurted out at once.

The colt spent several moments pondering something. “I get to learn about new spells, and I get to explain, while helping ponies learn them. You know, I might be okay with that.”

We all cheered—myself included.

After the mutual congratulations were done, we walked to the outer perimeter of the park.

I didn’t want a mark myself; I only knew what I saw. Squirt was somewhat happy to get his even. With that in mind, this was the second time I had encountered an ambiguous mark. I didn’t know how Spectacle must have been feeling. Unity of purpose perhaps?

My stomach churned.

Yeah, I used to have that…

It had felt like a living necessity when I had had it, but despite some discomfort, I had survived the sundering. Still, it had left a profound existential vacuum within me.

“...now I think I’d just like to share with my friends for now. I’m not at the point where I could peddle myself as an expert. Right, River?” “River?”

“Oh, uh…. Sorry. Got lost in thought there. What were you saying?” I asked, somewhat embarrassed.

“Oh, nothing big,” said Spectacle. “I know! Maybe I can help you. Since you’re secondary school age, they probably have you working on the resonance method!”

“Yeah, that’s right!” I replied pleasantly surprised. It only occurred to me later to facehoof over the fact that despite having a non-trivial headstart with magic that he didn’t know about, I was still at stage one.

The Cutie Mark Crusaders were observing us carefully, as if admiring their handiwork.

“Hmm… have you tried the periphery method?” Thaumaturgical asked, rubbing his chin.

“What now? For obvious reasons, I don’t know the terminology yet.”

“Oh, basically it’s that you try to resonate with the surrounding air as a conduit to your target object. I don’t know, I don’t think I know better than your teacher. I just like helping my friends.”

“No problem,” I replied. I almost touched him, as if instinctually. “I mean—”

“Uhh… River!?”

Shocked somewhat by the sudden seriousness of his tone, I stood at attention. To my surprise he was looking quite a bit nervous.

“What is it Spectacle?”

“We—we are still friends, right?”

I froze. It would be very easy for me to say yes, but I didn’t want to speak a previously ethereal status quo into existence. At the same time, I had no desire to hurt him by denying it.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” I asked, hoping to deflect the question.

The young colt sighed. “I mean, you’re a filly now. Everypony knew it but me. I know you have a lot of different obligations now. I don’t know if you even have the time for me anymore. I just—”

I lightly stomped a hoof. “Stop!” I urged, a fair bit more commandingly than I would have liked. “If we were friends before, we’re friends now. It’s like I told Squirt: I’m happy when ponies don’t change how they treat me. You were there, weren’t you?”

Thaumaturgical looked down again. “But… were we friends before?”

I scowled at my perfect evasion being foiled. “What do you mean?” I asked, already disliking where this was heading.

“Were we really friends before? You seemed so distant...”

I joined him in staring at the ground. I took a deep breath and let loose a deeper sigh. “Yes, we were friends. We are friends.”

For as hard as it was to say, I was rewarded with one of the most expressive and spontaneous smiles I had yet encountered.

“Good work, girls!” Applebloom remarked. It took me a long second to appreciate that this included me now.

I let them talk amongst themselves for a while as I thought back at what exactly had happened. I knew I didn’t want to make Thaumaturgical sad, but I still felt like I had committed to a vague but sizable slate of future obligations.

“—your cutie mark too, right, River?”

A full second later, I put on the brakes and stopped on a dime. “Oh, I am okay not having my mark for now. I have lots of time, you know. I honestly don’t know what the big deal is.”

The three of them huddled together for a couple of seconds before facing me once more. “You know, River, you’re a bit of a strange pony—but not in a bad way,” Sweetie assured me.

“Are you sure we haven’t met before?” Applebloom asked with heavy uncertainty.

“I—well, didn’t Twilight—”

A crystal clear memory of Bulwark’s disappointment passed through my mind’s eye.

“I—I’m Aron.” I said suddenly. “We met a few months ago.”

Scootaloo’s wings did the buzzing thing I saw Zephyr Zap’s do on occasion. “WOAH! Really!?”

“How’d you become an alicorn, anyway?” Applebloom asked.

“But weren’t you a human… stallion?” Sweetie Belle asked, bashful.

Under pressure, I felt a single tear in my eye. “Yes… it—it’s a long story.”

“We’ve got a long walk back to the castle, so let’s hear it!”

I sighed This is going to be painful.

“It’s nice to have friends, isn’t it?” came a faint, familiar female voice.

“Uhh, girls? Which one of you said that?”

The crusaders had blank looks on their faces.

“Nevermind. Anyway, it all started when Celestia brought me To Equestria. I was…”

Author's Note

Not much to say this time. I do have most the next chapter substantively planned already, though. Special thanks to my new editors Slayerseba and RC2101_Copey!

Chapter 38

I sank even further into the emblematic, comfortable, midnight blue plush chair. It served to stress how small I was to a comical degree, but the redeeming qualities prevailed. Those being comfort, comfort and comfort.

I looked around Luna's office; at the bookshelves filled with an odd mix of heavy ancient tomes and lighter modern hardbacks. The filtered light of the morning sun illuminated the room through some light curtains. A large, princess-sized desk commanded the room’s gravity even without the princess behind it. She sat across from me in front of it.

Usually I found myself with Celestia or Twilight when new developments occurred. But they weren't the mistress of dreams. Another night of sleep brought me more of the same two fillies trying to distract me from quality time with my sister. Nevertheless it was worth reporting, along with some other recent developments.

“I used to think my purpose was to help you adapt to Equestria. And at first, I thought that meant helping you become a normal pony and leave the war behind. The more I saw you interact with others and live your life, the more I began to question my own purpose. You’ve done so well that I wonder if I’m not needed anymore. You can be your own sort of pony—or being, rather. This is why I’ve chosen to interfere less. He said something like that, at any rate.”

Luna took a moment to ponder the significance of my words before beginning to formulate her response. “I suspected something of the sort, given the brown stallion’s relative inactivity. Although, I do wonder why you seemed so eager to share something so inconclusive…”

I grinned. “That’s where it gets interesting. I pointed out that he appeared to have access to my experiences, which really seemed to throw him off-balance. He started tripping over his words and such.” My triumphant aura dissipated as I relaxed. “I think I basically got him to admit that he’s part of me. I hate to think he’s my subconscious or something, but that’s how it appears…”

The night princess picked up on my souring mood and jumped in provide assurance. “Your logic is valid, but the conclusion does not carry the day. This was among the first things we’ve considered. We dismissed such a hypothesis following the tantabus incident. If the brown stallion were a part of you, the tantabus would not have been able to corrupt him without you being overcome with darkness.”

I would have been relieved, but I picked up on a disconcerting implication. “Was… was I that close to death?”

Luna suddenly raised herself from in front of her desk before pausing. If I had to guess, I would have hazarded that she was considering giving me a hug before thinking better of it.

“Death? No, not quite. At best you would have been under its control until we had contained it. At worst… you would have become its minion and helped spread the living nightmare to all of Equestria.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s so much more comforting. Thank you,” I snarked without a second thought to our relative stations.

Luna offered a gentle smile in response. “The idea is just as terrifying to us.” Luna shuffled some papers on her desk until they were neat piles. “It is fortuitous that you requested a meeting with us, for Twilight Sparkle has proffered some interesting theories.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing. I’m a bit tired of being an object of scientific curiosity. The surrounding mysteries, the research to not lose myself to an infant’s limited brain capacity—all of it seems to raise more questions than answers.”

“I understand your frustration, or at least I can sympathize.” She took a breath. “In the first place, there’s the possibility that the brown stallion is a phantasm, the disembodied memory of a poor soul full of regret.”

I was caught between feeling anxious and being genuinely curious.

“So I might be haunted?”

“Essentially, yes.”

“How do you prove something like that?”

“It’s something that’s treated in a kind of clinical manner,” Luna explained. By her tone, I could tell she was in unfamiliar territory. “You see, we start by ruling out a bunch of possibilities until it’s more likely than not. This can be done by collecting anecdotes and seeing if your experience parallels others. From there, well we can…”

I took advantage of the pause. “You don’t need to explain the whole process. Just tell me what I can provide to prove, or disprove this possibility.”

Luna floated a piece of paper over and began to look it over. “I was given a basic set of diagnostic questions. To start: do you ever have periods where you black out, lapses of memory, or feeling like you’re outside of your own body?”

"I…. don’t think so?" A sudden thought occurred to me, which made me regret my previous comment. I surreptitiously glanced at Luna's grand timepiece with a devious smile. If I played this right, I could skip out on singing lessons at school today! "How long is this list?”

Luna cleared her throat to continue, but I wasn't discreet enough, and she followed my gaze to the clock. “Forgive me. We don’t have time right now. You can’t be late to school. We’ll go through the list later. To give you a quick summary of another possibility, the brown stallion could be a guardian spirit.”

“A guardian… spirit?” I repeated, like a complete moron.

“Basically, it’s when a soul—a conscience from another world bonds to you. They are extremely rare but widely celebrated when they do occur. The few ponies we know of as a spirit’s host lived remarkable lives thanks to their guidance.”

“That… that’s interesting, but I’m not sure I’d want anyone else in my head and seeing through my eyes.”

Wait, this sounds familiar…
“Luna, to be blunt: how is this different from the other possibilities we’ve discussed.”

She regarded me kindly. “That’s a perfectly sensible question. You see: bearers of guardian spirits are literally two souls in one body, one indigenous, one foreign. Ghosts and the like are similar to memories. They’re an afterimage of a once-living soul on reality, which can in turn become an impression on one’s consciousness.”

“It sounds like you’ve concluded that it’s something foreign.”

“Yes, ‘tis an apt summary.”

I motioned to snap my fingers, before wistfully remembering that gesture was now impossible. Given how pony bodies seemed to defy the limitations of hooves, I half expected to be able to do it anyway.

“So, about that guardian spirit thing… I suppose you’re going to tell me that you can only guess if I have a guardian spirit through indirect methods.”

“To the contrary—" Luna’s horn lit up."No, you do not have one.”

“What!? If it was that easy…" I sputtered. "Not to look a gift pony in the mouth...”

“I had mostly eliminated such a possibility, but Twilight conjectured a scenario in which it would be at least plausible, so I used a more direct method. Only one soul; it’s really that simple. In any event, I believe we’re done here, at least for now.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Princess,” I said, coy.

“Come again?”

“You see, I led with the less consequential news. My dreamscape wandering bears further gifts!”

“You tease me too much, young one. Unless—do you mean?” Luna perked up, a bit of a rarity for her.

She started to walk towards a cabinet door, apparently before realizing that she could just magic it open. She levitated out what looked like a combination between a spoon and an ornate candlestick. The blue liquid gently oscillating inside the depression on the tip appeared to be seconds away from dripping off, but it could never escape the surface.

“I sat through a very boring dream tea party to get that—very prissy, so I expect a heartfelt thanks.”

“Yes! You got a sample! I knew I would find a use for such a tool someday!” Luna cheered.

“That is a pretty interesting artifact,” I admitted. “To be honest: I didn’t believe you when you told me I would be able to summon a real object in a dream.”

Luna patiently extracted the spoon’s contents into a vial and swirled the contents for good measure.

“You told me to get a magic sample from Auburn, but I still don’t understand—wouldn’t samples from both of them be ideal?”

There was a boast contemplated in Luna’s eyes, but it faded as she thought better of it. “Celestia and I are both more contemplative than impulsive, which does come with its disadvantages. However, even I was able to grab my opportunity amidst the chaos of the tantabus incident.”

Rather than finish her story, she pushed a different vial towards me while examining the first. “Just as I thought: she is not a real pony,” Luna intoned thoughtfully.

“I never trusted her. She’s superficially nice, but she did go and insert herself into my dreams without asking... so now we know she’s a ghost, or something?”

“Were I you, I would not alert her to our awareness of her.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” I said simply, drumming my forehooves on Luna’s desk before stopping abruptly. “Wait a minute, wouldn’t that mean that House Keeper is real? After all, you said there were two real presences besides me in my dreams. To be fair, I always just assumed my sister had really been there.”

“Indeed, it would mean so.”

“But that backstory is ridiculous! It was the only thing that threw me off Auburn’s trail.”

Luna’s expression became somber. “We’ve searched for her, using the clues you’ve given us and this sample. We’ve found nothing. What’s worrisome, though, is that her magic is abnormally weak, diseased even. For this reason, we’ve come to believe that she might also be from a different dimension. Perhaps it is yours.”

“I’m pretty sure there are no ponies there. Unless you subscribe to that whole infinite universe thing.”

“Come again?”

I paused. “I don’t know if I understand it either. It’s an old fringe idea that we’ve held onto. My people are in a situation in which our collective knowledge pales in comparison to that of those that came before us. What we once had was something like House’s world—that giant city. Then again, that was the same dream where we took on seven-foot tall monsters in an archaic sport that I think dates back to my ancestral homeworld.”

“I would continue this discussion, but we are short on time.”

I took a deep breath, hesitating only because I knew Star would have to fly me if I delayed any longer. I hope Pink isn’t waiting for me downstairs.

“Luna?”

“Hmm?”

“The… big… problem—where are we with that?”

“Dost thou refer to… nay, I cannot fathom a way to speak lightly of it.”

“Yeah, that!” I quickly replied.

Luna’s expression soured, torn weighing a decision.”’Tis a matter of high magic theory. I don’t feel I could do it justice so quickly—”

“That’s what you princesses always say. I don’t believe it. I may be a dunce at magic, but it can’t be completely impervious to a simple explanation.”

Luna hung her head ever so slightly, but recovered instantly, as if her royal conditioning made such an outward demeanor untenable.

“We have explored many paths, so we are a mite embarrassed of our paltry results. You are already an… outlier.”

“What does that mean?” I quickly snapped back.

“You have, lasted longer than we would have thought. Twilight thinks it has something to do with the magic of your world, Celestia believes it due to the alicorn factor, while Professor Withers postulates a multi-vector transformation dynamic.”

“What’s that?”

“Basically, by virtue of you possessing multiple aspects, the change is more complex. It may be a poor metaphor, but she likens it to Harmony being ‘careful.’ In any event, the bottom line is that it’s difficult to estimate how much more time we have.”

“That’s bad—or it might be good. I don’t know...” I felt a chill, almost regretting having asked.

“We do have a few promising options. We’ve crafted the spells, but it’s a matter of refining them.”

I jumped out of the chair, perhaps prematurely excited. “Great!”

“We didn’t want to hazard overpromising, as flaws of even the most promising approaches may be significant. One approach is to compress your memories into the most salient, defining moments, to a degree that an infant’s mind could retain.” Luna continued without pausing ”Another is to ‘ladle’ your memories as you regain the ability to retain them.”

She sighed.

“No, that sounds like you’ve made a lot of progress. Go on!” I pleaded

She sighed again for good measure. “Unfortunately, both raise metaphysical questions about whether your identity will be preserved. The former may preserve your core personality, but subtleties of your psyche may be lost. For the ladle approach, we’re dealing with a moving target. The concern is that your new experiences in between memory transfers will still cause you to develop into an entirely new pony. Perhaps one very troubled...”

“I don’t care! That pony shouldn’t exist! I’ll risk it! It’s still my existence!”

My shouting echoed off the walls.

Luna looked shaken, but didn’t appear apologetic. “Please understand: we can’t completely ignore the impact these methods may have on an innocent alicorn filly—should we fail to protect you, that is. Although it may inform our decision when evaluating equal options, we won’t let it tie our hooves when it comes to taking risks.”

I got ready to snap back, to tell Luna to hold nothing back. Just as quickly, though, new clarity rippled on the surface of my mind. This was another case of minimizing casualties. A good general knows that while an overarching objective may have a human cost, there is such a situation where he must stem the tide of further lost lives, if mere bluster is all it would amount to.

“I… I get it,” I muttered, with light regret. “I just—I don’t like the idea of being sacrificed for the pony Harmony thinks I should be.”

“No, I should apologize,” Luna said, empathetic. “I shouldn’t have touched on such a heavy topic right before school. Just know that finding the best solution continues to be an active undertaking.”

I smiled half-heartedly. “Thanks. Thanks for investing so much, to try and save me I mean. I—I had no idea so much had gone into it.”

Luna gently ushered me out the door, trying not to appear hurried.

I hope school, at least, will be uneventful. I’ve got enough on my mind.

I tensely hung on the final note of my musical number for as long as I could, hoping it would blot out the remainder of my troubled performance. I even thought the last protracted bit almost sounded okay.

My hopes, however, were quickly dashed.

What had started as veiled giggles slowly established itself as audible chuckles, before reaching its zenith as an uproar of jeering laughter. Even my so-called friends couldn’t help themselves.

Ms. Fizzle looked like she was choking herself, to avoid being drawn in.

Bubble Bauble approached me bearing a vindictive grin. “That! That was soooo bad!”

“I know!” Annuity shouted. “Try to defend that, Miss AAA!”

Stardust approached my side, pondering something. “Well at least the tune was—okay, River had nothing to do with that. And she really let the backup singers have their moment—a bit too much, actually. And the singing… Style? Anyone? I guess it—it kinda—it was pretty…”

Annuity forced more laughter. “No wonder Ms. Fizzle let you sit out for so long! She didn’t want you to fail so dramatically in front of everypony! Where’d you learn to sing, anyway? An anvil factory?”

Ms. Fizzle recomposed herself with apparent difficulty. “Now, everypony, we should all realize that some ponies learn slower than others.“

Annuity’s group laughed.

“In some areas, while excelling in others,” Fizzle stressed.

“It’s fine,” I interjected. “I know I’m not good at singing. I don’t really care all that much.”

I scanned the crowd. Squirt looked like he approved, Pink Diamond looked concerned, and Stardust looked like she was the one who had just lost face. As we walked back into the school building, I intentionally hung behind to be the last one in. As I walked by, Fizzle passed me a note. While I appreciated her trying being discreet, there was no getting around the humiliation of remedial music lessons.

Shaking my head, I made the long hop up to the seat of my desk. I incidentally locked eyes with Iron Jill briefly and even she found it hard to look at me for the moment.

“Okay, everypony! Open your history books to page 377 and review the learning objectives. When you think you understand them, write at least three questions you hope, or expect, to get answers to in this unit. While you’re doing that, I’ll pass back some homework to you.”

I looked around to see my relative enthusiasm wasn’t reciprocated. I, for one, appreciated the preview of what was coming.

Now that the griffin war was taken care of, I understood that we were to learn about an era of peace and innovation. I had to wonder if Celestia had chosen this school for where we were on the history track. The logic would have been that I could relate to war better than peace. I had to admit it would have been a good approach.

The first objective was to “Characterize common themes relating to the development of trade, agriculture, government, mathematics, magic and cloud architecture.”

Cloud architecture, huh? I’m going to interpret this as meaning nothing of note happened for the pegasi, but we’ll put something on here so they don’t feel left out.

While I was spacing out about the first bullet point, graded assignments started piling up. As the ones I saw were all above-average. I was proud, all things considered, of the gradual increase of my grades. However, I made a note to myself to get Twilight help me to divine whether I’m getting alicorn-enhanced grades.

“Ms. Fizzle! You dropped one!”

“Oh, yes, you’re right. Thank you, Little Pinion. It’s probably because it wasn’t clipped to anything else. Here you are, River: your cutie mark poem.”

Before I knew it, a congregation had assembled around my desk. My first instinct was to hide my grade, but it occurred to me that a solid grade on a big assignment may counter any argument that I was a poor student on top of being hopeless at music. Unfortunately, this caused me to miss the opportunity to hide the real damaging part.

“A Poem About Squirt’s Cutie Mark!?” Granite said in a shrill, disbelieving tone uncharacteristic of her.

“What!? Where!?” Annuity demanded as she pounced.

“At the top,” Style said, reluctantly.

I looked for myself, hoping to see something to base a denial on. Instead…

Oh, ponyfeathers! I knew I should have come up with a better title!

I looked around bashfully until Squirt himself caught my attention. He had gone pale in the face, which was pretty impressive considering his white fur.

Fizzle was wearing an enigmatic smile while another round of giggles at my expense was beginning to pick up steam.

Did she trick me? I wondered with a hint of rage.

It cooled.

Then again, it was my suggestion—which I made sarcastically...

“That’s kind of neat!” Zephyr Zap pointed out with some forced perkiness.

“Yeah, she rhymed semblance with evidence.”

“If she can write like this, why did she struggle with singing rhymes?”

While I registered the measured compliment, it did not detract from the turbulent flow of self-criticism washing over me as I was hit with further realizations. Even if I didn’t actually have one myself, I should have realized I was walking on eggshells. Writing about another pony’s cutie mark was an accident waiting to happen!

Okay, Fizzle, I’ve learned my lesson…

But I would never admit it aloud.

At some point in my contemplation, a chorus of “River likes Squirt! River Likes Squirt!” had started, interleaved with childish rhymes.

Whatever, this doesn’t affect me. There’s only one pony I really care about in all this: Squirt.

I recoiled.

NO! Not like that!

Even my own thoughts were turning on me!

I spent some time trying to build some self-confidence back. While I succeeded to some degree, the status quo was still taxing.

Somehow, without any overt agreement between the two of us, it became established that Pink Diamond would get to ask me one princess-related question per day on our morning walk to school.

“So, I really don’t think they’ll let me decide anything until I’m an adult…” I finished, hoping my somewhat repetitive answer had satisfied her for the day.

Or, you know, until I’m actually a princess.

However, I had given up on challenging that assumption about my future, at least with the crystal filly.

“But don’t you need to start training?” she asked excitedly.

I gave her a weird look until she understood she needed to elaborate.

“You know: special princess training! Like, forbidden knowledge!! Ultimate magic! Secret techniques!”

I stifled a groan. “There’s nothing like that—oh, hey, we’re here!”

To my chagrin, and in spite of yesterday, I still had a phalanx of foals ready to greet me. Fortunately the trend was that the new status quo was starting to sink in. Presumably, some of the novelty factor of my ascension had worn off. I held onto hope that interest in me would continue to decrease in a straight line.

I walked to my desk, my thoughts drowning out the various salutations as I passed each pony.

I was partially resigned to the notion that everyone new I’d meet would see the horn and wings before anything else. Whether the impact of that first impression would diminish in time over the course of a typical relationship remained to be seen. I knew I could always ask Celestia, but asking about such ponderous matters intimidated me.

“Hey, River, will you hear my petition today?” Windy Skies asked.

“Oh, sure,” I replied absentmindedly.

Stardust blew into a whistle and separated the two of us. “Windy, you can’t ask her ahead of time to hear your petition. You have to get in line after school!”

The little pegasus looked to me, hoping to cure her utter confusion. “Is there a rule? One that says that, I mean?”

Stardust dropped a small binder at the feet of Windy Skies.

“The Official Afterschool Open Court Rules and Regulations, Second Edition. Section 3, Rule 19: petitioners shall be chosen at the presiding Pseudo-Princess’s discretion after school.”

Well at least they designated me a pseudo princess… I thought, trying not to concern myself with the insanity of an official rulebook. But to be fair, the instructions that came with Squirt’s games were even longer.

I hopped in place. Speaking of which…

“Squirt!” I called out with a bit more volume than necessary.

The little colt flinched as I pranced up to him. It took me a second to realize how much attention this was drawing; when it hit me, I tried my best to tone down the pranciness.

There was a palpable expectation in the classroom by now. Even Fizzle seemed invested.

I shrugged. Whatever, that works for me.

“River, what—”

“Squirt!” I cut him off. “Maybe since I don’t have one of those cutie marks I didn’t get it, but the whole poem thing was a misunderstanding! It was my idea, but it was a joke! I thought Ms. Fizzle would say no!”

Squirt had a look of docile contemplation on his face. “So why’d you do it anyway?”

“Because it was easy!” I announced to the world. “It just had more to say. More than with Annuity’s boring mark, anyway.”

“Hey!” Annuity wailed indignantly, but the laughter came all the same. I think I might also have heard Fizzle scold me as well, but other things were on my mind.

That went over surprisingly well, I thought, expecting more of a clear split to my petty jab at Annuity.

“I’m really sorry,” I whispered to Squirt in a hurry. “Am I still invited to play that new game, or did you start without me?”

“I’m not mad,” Squirt said, in response to the real issue.

“Great! When’s the party?”

“Party?” “Party!?” What party!?”

I looked over my withers to see a gaggle of curious foals. I felt anew a spike of annoyance at the injustice of having to weigh my words constantly if I wanted to avoid scrutiny.

The adult in the room clapped her hooves. “Back to your seats, everypony. We still have a wonderful class full of learning and adventure to get to!”

Her oblivious sincerity earned some laughter and some groans.

Fizzle began lecturing about mathematics. Although distracted lately, I had a vague recollection of the subject matter which eased the learning curve a bit. Or perhaps it was overconfidence.

I nodded my head lazily back and forth. Nothing I can do. Next week’s math test will try and ambush me anyway.

I exhaled, relishing the little victory I had just grabbed hold of by not alienating Squirt. I may not be able to control my own destiny, but it is nice to keep the little things in order.

I took a nap during recess and coasted the rest of the way through the day. Although only a half day, school had felt much longer lately. I still had a natural reaction to cheer the end of school. It was like a gut punch remembering I had to hear requests.

“Hi, River!”

Zap again, huh? I thought I’d done a better job at cycling through the ponies. Don’t know why I bother.

“Ms. Fizzle! Ms. Fizzle.” Mortar Strike shouted frantically, though it came out muffled due to the stack of papers in his mouth. I’m not too late am I?”

“Not at all. Good job, Mortar. And with that I think that’s everypony.”

Momentarily distracted, I turned my attention back to Zap who was still wearing an eager smile.

“By the way, did you ever decide which activities to do at camp?”

Some more curious ponies flocked to the crowd to hear my answer.

“No.” I said nonplussed.

“So, anyway, I was wondering—oh...” Zap suddenly slumped to a sitting position.

“What’s the matter?” I said, with tempered concern. She’s already sad? Is this request that weighty?

“Umm… I didn’t use up my petition with that question, did I?”

My first thought was to laugh. My second was selfish.

“Yes,” I answered, firm, causing Zap to deflate and walk away.

I enjoyed the freebie for a moment before having second thoughts.

Should I feel bad? I shook my head. Nah, she’s the second happiest pony I know. She’ll be fine.

I turned my attention to the crowd, hoping for another easy request. I randomly waved a forehoof around, not really caring who I picked.

I stopped abruptly. “You!”

Somehow, I hadn’t noticed Pink Diamond was among them, so I was somewhat surprised when she approached my desk.

“Yes?”

“I’ll ask the question everypony wants answered, then!” she announced, bubbly. “River, what activities are you going to pick? We’ve all turned ours in, but we really want to know.”

Once again, annoyance set in. I didn’t really want to do any of it, but I knew I’d draw attention by staying in Canterlot. But seeing the question would keep dogging me and that I would be automatically placed anyway if I didn’t fill out the form, I saw an unconventional solution. Abruptly, I jumped down from my desk and approached my cubby. Mine was eye-level, so I could reach into it without leaving my feet.I had rolled the stack of papers associated with camp into a cylinder. I plucked the important part from the center, with the feathery touch of an archer drawing from his quiver. I then proceeded to stomp over to the eager crowd and dropped the form of exaggerated importance at Pink Diamond’s hooves.

“You guys decide,” I announced.

I started to walk away when I felt a jolt of panic. “Oh, and no singing or dancing. That’s all. Thanks.”

Behind me I could hear a noisy debate as ponies pushed themselves into position to participate in the decision-making. Zephyr Zap was trying to fly in, but the bigger ponies blocked her. Some of Annuity’s posse were in the fray; it was a tossup whether they would purposely make suggestions I would hate, or if they wanted to be in the same activities as me.

Who cares, really? What difference does it make what I do at pony summer camp? It’ll be a pain no matter what. Even if the princesses do ‘save’ me, I’ll still probably have to redo my school years all over. None of this matters!

My wings twitched. It was strange when they did move since my brain didn’t really know how to process them yet. I wondered if manipulating things with my wings would feel the same. Out of curiosity I tried to move my wings by hoof. When I couldn’t reach, I felt like a fool for trying. Yet, I was able to vividly imagine how moving them would feel.

Wait a minute! I used them to grab the activity form!

Sure enough I was able to spread them open at will. It was just as sudden as me gaining drastically better command of my tail, another development I couldn’t pinpoint.

I felt still for a moment. Should I be happy? Appreciate the potential usefulness. Worry that I’m settling too much into being an alicorn?

I really didn’t know.

“Villains are attacking! Villains are attacking!” screamed a panicked bystander. I dashed past her, doubting I could do much.

I hurried down the narrow street, not even knowing if my pursuers were even giving chase, but I had a job to do.

“The road before you suddenly comes to an end, in a strange sort of bottleneck. In front of you are some dumpsters, but the walls of the surrounding buildings have smooth brick,” came a commanding, disembodied voice.

I turned to the side to whisper to my companion, who was wearing a mask that resembled a brilliant gold firework mid-explosion.

Thaumaturgical Spectacular
Perk: Pyrotechnician

“Well, there’s no way around it, is there? We fight!” he declared haughtily.

While normally I would be behind the idea, I shot him a look. “They outnumber us, and we don’t know what their powers—what their perks are I mean. Besides, do we even have the room to fight?”

“While still narrow, the alley has sufficient room for a melee,” the voice clarified.

I faced the colt to my left. We locked eyes, nodded and charged forward. Making a snap judgment, I shifted my colors to a canary yellow and electric blue scheme.

Kaleidoscope
Perk: Color-Code Combat

The villains appeared to have weak defenses, so I doubted they would be able to take weak hits at the rate I could deal them out in this form.

Thaumaturgical announced our presence with a barrage of fireworks. I leapt between the walls and threw myself like a shuriken against the foe I thought could take the least punishment. Striking with all four hooves, I managed two full rotations for eight hits. Rolling a fifteen I landed flawlessly on my hooves.

I had to dodge quickly, though, as another villain was closing in on me. This one looked sturdier, so I decided to be evasive. As the battle progressed, it was becoming increasingly clear how ineffective I was. Adding a second opponent to the mix meant that it took everything I had to avoid hits. Even with my black, evasion-type color scheme. I wouldn’t be able to hold out forever.

“I don’t think we’re gonna win this one,” I said as desperation kicked in.

“The others are here! They came! We’re saved!” Spectacular announced as our three fellow students and teacher made their dramatic entry.

Steel Support
Perk: Some for Everyone

Mint Coin
Perk: One for the Money

Mad Hatter
Perk: Party for Everyone

Pro Hero — Slightly-Above-Average Botanist
Perk: Fiber Sophist

“You know what time it is?” Mint asked, checking his pocket watch.

“Yeah, it’s time to turn this battle around!” Steel announced emphatically.

“Let’s party!” said Hatter.

Golden Thimble rolled.

“Aaaand a two,” said Squirt the Dungeon Master. “With that the heroes are vanquished. The nefarious actors of Every Villain Is Lemons overtake the city and eventually the world. The end.”

“Dang it!” Daft Hat said, rather upset. “I thought we would make it for sure!”

“There was a Class B villain in the group,” explained Golden Thimble. “We’re only supposed to be students, we can’t take on the really bad guys yet.”

“But we had the #72 hero in Equestria on our side. How could we lose?”

I didn’t want to get into a fight between Squirt’s friends, but I was dragged into the exchange all the same.

Squirt looked like he was contemplating something, thought better of it, and then decided to say it anyway. “If I’m to be perfectly honest, you guys lost because River chose such a weak perk.”

I tossed my bangs to the side with a dismissive hum. “Sorry for having such a weak perk,” I replied, sardonically.

Was I actually offended by that? I found myself wondering.

I glanced at the pocket watch Golden Thimble had brought as a prop. “Sorry, I can’t stay for another run at it. I need to get going.”

“Princess business?” Daft Hat teased.

I sighed. “No, nothing like that.”

“Well, you could say we had a royal good time!” Thimble remarked to his own amusement.

I didn’t dignify him with a response as I turned to leave.

“Bye, River! Thanks for inviting me!” Thaumaturgical shouted after me.

“See: I told you she was a filly,” Daft Hat said to the others when I wasn’t quite out of earshot.

“Me too,” said Thimble.

Despite my reservations about doing so I lingered by the door.

“I’m sure she had reasons for saying she was a colt,” Iron Press said, defending me.

I knew that you were the smart one. Thank you, Iron.

“But really, Squirt, now you’re cheating on Stardust with a princess?” he taunted.

I rolled my eyes and pushed myself out the door. I walked half a block before checking my surroundings. Seeing nopony, I shifted my colors to black and red.

Nobody’s looking for an alicorn with these colors. See: it is a useful “perk.”

I was halfway back to the castle with Star before it occurred to me that the new magic ring was the only thing that made my hybrid ability viable.

When I made it back to my room, I hopped straight onto my bed, which had become something of a habit. In truth, I had nothing to do, but my reception by Squirt’s friends detracted from what should have been a fun outing.

Squirt’s still a good friend at least. I can say that: he is a friend. But then why didn’t I want to admit the same to Spectacle? I guess he’s “more of a pony?” I don’t know… In any case, it was nice to have him along

I saw a bushy tail ride the rim of my bed. I was shocked for a moment, before recognition kicked in.

“Flower Power, is that you?” I asked, somewhat anxious.

The maid popped up. “Heehee I’m like a ninja, sneaking in your room to clean. You’ll never see me coming.”

For a second I tried to figure out what her colors reminded me of. “Say, Flower Powder’s your foal, isn’t she?”

The maid maid smiled. “Sure is. I’m a proud momma, and she’s my little bundle of joy.”

She looked like she was waiting for me to make a comment. “Cute filly that little one.”

I immediately regretted the comment, as I was not sure if it was an appropriate one to make in Equestria. Fortunately, the proud momma smiled and thanked me.

When she left, I was left in territory I was well acquainted with: boredom. I had to think on which book to read, but none appealed at the moment. I was pleasantly surprised when Star Chart knocked. I invited her in.

“So what’s the occasion?” I asked, careful not to show my happiness at somepony else to talk to. Flower Power I had little in common with, so we could only briefly converse before hitting an impasse.

Then again, I don’t think I’ve ever made small talk with Star Chart. Wait… something about Star—I wanted to ask—what was it?

I went from cluelessness to recollection in an instant.

“That’s right, you know where Bulwark lives, right?”

Star’s smile was a guarded one. “I do.”

“Great! You can lead the way for me. I miss her. If I’m accepting ponies as friends now, she definitely fits the bill”

Star tossed her bangs. “Nah, I don’t think that’s something I need to do,” she retorted before sticking out her tongue, stepping out and slamming the door behind her.

That’s… unlike her. I thought while trying to grapple with mixed feelings.

Without hesitation, I flung open the door again and charged out.

I readied to call after Star, but I hit what felt like a brick wall and had the wind knocked out of me. Taking breaths to recover, I looked up to see what I should have anticipated, seeing how things usually worked around here.

“Bulwark!? What are you doing here?” My pleasantly surprised reaction leaked out, despite me still struggling for oxygen.

“Hey, River. I guess I wanted to apologize,” she said matter-of-factly.

“You what—why?”

“It was a bit much to react how I did. I’m sorry.”

I coughed. “No, I’m at fault here. You were right when it came to Celestia. She didn’t tell me to lie; it was my decision. Sorry for not believing in you—or trusting you. I’m sorry.”

I looked away briefly as I contemplated something insistent. “Why’d you apologize to me, anyway? I can’t think of anything you did…”

Bulwark laughed. “I still do feel bad. But for the most part it’s a Canterlot etiquette thing. Fishing for an apology it’s called: apologize for something trivial to get somepony else to apologize.”

“How does that work?”

Bulwark tapped a forehoof while thinking. “Consider a Canterlot noblemare. She has a hundred friends, three hundred acquaintances, and thousands of second-degree connections from these first two groups. If she does something to offend somepony, it may be lost in the hustle and bustle of her social obligations. It sort of developed as a socially acceptable way to remind somepony that they wronged you.”

“So I fell for it?” I asked, cocking my head.

“Basically!”

“Cool… so we can hang out again?”

“I’d love to,” she said, pleased. “Though not right now. I kinda snuck out on chores to come see you. But I do want to know about you—”

“Me? Oh… my secret?” I asked, nervous. Despite nearly losing my friend, I still had second thoughts about letting ponies know.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to…” Bulwark conceded, disappointment showing.

“No, I do want to. I just…” I hummed myself. Would it be okay if I just tell you a little bit right now? And tell you more later?”

Bulwark wore a poker face, seemingly ready to negotiate for more. But then she nodded, and her pleasant smile returned. “That seems fair. Do you have anything in mind?”

I felt a weight in my chest. While I was open to compromise, actually coming up with what to share put a certain pressure on me.

I sighed, to stall, if nothing else. “Okay, tell me if this is enough: Celestia “picked” me because she saw I could be an alicorn.”

Bulwark’s tail started wagging deliberately as she considered my tasty revelation. “She knew? You mean she can tell? Is that why she made Twilight Sparkle her student? Wait a minute! Are the other eleven students also going to be alicorns!? Even the colts?”

“Well, not quite. It’s more complicated than that…” I said, somewhat tense. “Celestia never intended that I would get more time with her than they would.”

Am I lying to her again? No. You can even argue that Celestia is giving them more time “as her student.”

Bulwark didn’t get it, but seemed to accept my cryptic words.

“I guess that’ll be the cliffhanger to keep me reading. I’ll let you know when I’m free. See you later, River!”

“Bye,” I whispered after her. Unfortunately, my hopes of a distraction from boredom were dashed.

I wonder what will happen when I get de-aged? Will we still be friends? I’d miss her…

And I was sad again.

I finished the final lap around the field, leading Windy Skies considerably. I skid to a halt once I had crossed the imaginary finish line and pumped my front hooves in celebration. “It’s my win!” I declared, proud.

Windy had run well all the same. Though my breathing was heavier than hers, I could tell she had tried her best.

She came up to my side at a slow trot. “Good job,” she said, somewhat forced. “Still, I don’t know why you’d want to race me,” she added, somewhat confused.

“Oh, no reason.”

Stardust decided to insert herself into the conversation at that juncture: “Wasn’t it you that wanted to race? I don’t know why that would be a secret request, though.”

Windy went cross-eyed for a second. “Request? I didn’t even stick around for that today. My sister—”

I clapped my front hooves. “It doesn’t matter whose idea it was. What matters is that I won. Being an alicorn is awesome!”

“I can’t relate, but I’d certainly think so,” said Windy.

I trotted a few paces away before turning around and waving. “See you fillies later!”

The two foals exchanged a look before turning and waving, perplexed.

Silver Lining and Mortar strike approached me with a pail full of rocks.
“We got some neat ones this time!” said Silver Lining.

I smiled my best princess smile. “That’s so thoughtful of you,” I intoned benevolently.

Seriously, rocks? Where does it say I like rocks, anyway?

“Yeah… that brown one is kinda neat…”I felt obliged to spend a minute pretending to look interested before setting off on my stroll home.

The purple pegasus mare alighted.

“Hello, Star Chart!” I greeted, chipper.

“You seem like you’ve settled in well,” Star remarked.

“What do you mean?” I asked innocently.

Star put a hoof to her chin. “I wonder if my assumptions about you were inaccurate is all.”

We stayed mostly silent on the way back until the halfway mark. Star and I made some small talk, and I aced it like today’s math test. Confident I had done my job, I relaxed a bit.

“Yeah, at first I thought I wasn’t worthy to be a princess, but it’s really fun.”

“Are you... well?” Star asked candidly.

“As well and good as a petite princess can be!” I said, giggling.

Star intensified her glare. “Who are you!? Where is the real RIver Glade!?”

“Tch. Took you long enough,” I said as I once more took the shape of the foal Maniacal Laughter. “While I’m nowhere near the actor my brother is, I’m second to none when it comes to shapeshifting from memory.” I laughed. You didn’t notice a thing!”

Star stomped a hoof and lunged at the imposter, who dodged lazily. “Foul changeling, where is she!?”

“Yeah, yeah. You really think I’d just tell you? Besides, it’s not that easy to nab an alicorn in broad daylight. There are more eyes than ours on her. This is more than a smash and grab operation.”

Changing tune, the female changeling punched the air. “I wonder: do you fancy your chances against me? I could be weak; I could be strong. Who knows? But I might be able to give you a hint if you can beat me!”

Star stretched herself to her maximum height and waved with her left hoof. “Well, I’m not alone! And you will tell me everything!”

The seconds dragged on. The changeling yawned, taunting the pony.

Star awkwardly waved again.

“Apparently, your backup made the sensible determination that what Maniacal Laughter is up to takes precedence,” the filly imposter taunted.

Star resisted the temptation to look immediately, but decided to take but a quick glance. When she saw the fire, her eyes widened to take in the reality of the situation. In the span of those few seconds, the changeling had slipped away.

Author's Note

Hopefully no hiccups this time. It took me a while, but I've got a better idea of where I want to take my characters. I needed to lay the groundwork, though. I had to sorta bet that this chapter will work.

Chapter 39

Canterlot at any time of the day was a veritable labyrinth. While navigation at night was another matter, the midday rumbling of thousands of pony lives intersecting was effectively an obstacle in itself. Windy was weaving between the adults with masterful skill, stopping occasionally to wave at me to follow. I had thought I had a flair for such finesse; however, the little—yes, admittedly still larger than me—pegasus showed the flawless technique of a Canterlot native.

Curious, I stopped beneath the shade of an apricot vendor’s cart to gauge Windy’s reaction. For a moment, I admired the city planning. In between adjacent, often heterogeneous, buildings, there was usually a grassy area that formed a little island in the middle of the stone and concrete. These served as perfect parking spots for mobile salesponies who could quite literally set up shop, without impeding those taking a shortcut to neighboring streets.

I began to grow bored, but my patience had apparently exceeded that of the multi-colored pegasus. I had never lost sight of her, but she seemed doubtful and trotted back.

“Come on, River, what are you waiting for!? We need to find the place quick or I might forget.”

“Forget what?” I asked, with a rehearsed nonchalance.

The filly’s snout tensed momentarily. “What do you mean? I want to show you where I found that interesting rock, silly!”

She doesn’t seem too enthused. I’m not either, so why are we doing this? I wondered with a mischievous grin.

I supposed it wasn’t too strange when I looked at it in context. Much of what I did in Equestria seemed to promise whimsy, but my enthusiasm averaged out as tepid at best.

Windy talked my ear off about nothing in particular as we started to venture beyond what was known territory for me. While she was typically talkative, the focus of discussion seemed a bit more volatile than usual. I chiseled my responses down to pleasant nothingness I had come to associate with princess diplomacy. I almost surprised myself at how good I was at it.

“We’re almost there!” Windy announced, chipper.

“Great!” I replied, effectively treating it as a challenge to one-up her upbeat attitude.

I found it an amusing irony that what my forced interest concealed was that I was interested in the rock, after all.

Well, I suppose burying anything about Rhod makes it doubly wise to execute a feint within a feint. I hadn’t even considered that.

We finally made it to the outskirts of the city. The congestion of buildings had seemed to clear up with each sidestreet.

“We made it! It’s over here!” the pegasus filly cheered.

I looked left and right. I was somewhat surprised by the openness of the dirt lot. While there was nothing of interest, it was effectively an eight-way intersection where the same number of side streets terminated.

My ears stood up on their own and swept across their limited range of motion like a radar antenna. It was one of those uncommon occurrences that occasionally reinforced that I was all pony now.

Wordlessly, Windy Skies pointed to what appeared to be a mound of dirt protruding from the earth like a flattened sandcastle. As I approached, she hopped down the six inches from the top of the tiny hill. It felt absurd to step up when prompted, but a pitfall was a truly cartoonish thing to expect. Unfortunately, by the time I had the sense to realize that this characterization made it all the more likely, I already had four hooves planted on top of it.

What have we here? So familiar… No, that wouldn’t make any sense.

“Windy, you said you found that strange rock here?”

“Right,” she said, impatient

In spite of my senses screaming that there were multiple presences encroaching upon us, I still found what I was standing on more and more interesting.

So the rhodium she found isn’t a coincidence, after all. Standing here—it feels like home…

“Hey, ‘Windy,’ what made you choose that rock to show me?” I asked.

“No reason. Hey, look at that: my back-up’s here.” The filly wiped her face with a hoof, as if disgusted with the form itself. “Man, I hate impersonating fillies. They’re full of such nonsense. Well, in any event, we can dispense with all the rock talk. Come along quietly and maybe there will be… cupcakes? Ponies like cupcakes, right?”

I smirked, pulling the fascinating rock out of my saddlebags. “You really don’t understand my question, do you? Why this rock? Or am I to believe you thought any rock would lure me here, and you just happened to pluck this one from your ambush site?”

Windy’s expression went totally blank and she mouthed “yes” despite not voicing it.

I roared with laughter, facehooving my forehead unintentionally.

“Are you serious!? What luck, oh my!”

She just stumbles upon an incredibly rare metal. I chuckled again at the absurdity. The magic in this one is amazing. I’ve held shards before, but nothing with this kind of magic.

The crowd of mares and stallions now surrounding us slithered closer.

Windy smiled, with only a measure of doubt. “Whether your taunts show insight, or just insanity, nothing has changed. If in fact it is luck, we will happily rake in our winnings.”

I laughed again as I casually juggled the rock with one hoof. “You misunderstand: the luck is mine! Turns out the cheese I have here was an exorbitant bribe to offer this savvy mouse.”

Windy stamped her front hooves. “Seize her!” she ordered, which sounded hilarious coming from her.

“Ah, yes, enough of that.” I agreed. “STAR! Any time now!” I made aggressive eye contact. “So, ‘Windy,’ you really think a pseudo-royal alicorn wouldn’t have personal guards?” I feigned impatience by drumming my hooves on the dirt.

The imposter’s haughtiness returned. “Ah, yes, about those guards. We might say they are preoccupied…”

The filly laughed, but her aura was totally ruined by the black strand of her multicolored mohawk mane falling over her left eye.

“Seriously!? How does Windy Skies manage to keep this blasted mane upright!? I’ve tried like four different hair sprays!”

I waited for the informal time-out for shenanigans to end before countering. “You actually managed to pull Star Chart away from me?” I would have laughed again, but I didn’t want to try and one-up my adversary once more. I would simply let my bare hooves do the talking.

The imposter waved the crowd of ponies closer. “It was all technique and careful planning, my little pony. Whether you understand it or not, we’ll be grabbing you now. Say goodbye to Canterlot.”

For a single moment, I was genuinely afraid. If there was a 1% likelihood that I was wrong about what was in the palm of my… hoof? I would be completely bluffing. As it was, though—

“This should be fun,” I said with an unassuming tone. I stretched and threw a few punches. “Now I can fight with total disregard for what my pony caretakers might think.” I beamed, once more in my element. “I’ll be making my escape now, if you don’t mind.”

The faux filly fumed. “Oh please! You don’t even know how to fly yet! And even if you could, you wouldn’t be able to lose our fastest flyers.”

I rolled my eyes. “Are you actually going to make me say it? I’ll be making my way out of here through you. And all I need is this wonderful little rock.”

Right on cue the first of my opponents spread his forelegs wide and motioned to grab me. Without even looking back, I chucked the rock with a supercharged throw. I missed his head intentionally but it would certainly leave a bruise on his barrel, which he fell to the ground clutching.

“Windy’s” jaw dropped, but she quickly comported her facial expression back to arrogance.

Undeterred, more of the crowd galloped towards me, arriving simultaneously. I dropped down to a crouch and violently swept around myself with my hind legs. With that one powerful motion, I mowed down the opposition. Wearing the most intimidating expression my pony muzzle could muster, I hopped over the sprawled out bodies of my temporarily fallen foes.

I was left facing a bespectacled black and brown stallion. It was a moment of weakness that I wasted a half-second wondering why this moron had brought his glasses to a fight. “That’s impossible! Earth magic aside, your limbs are much too short to—”

I punched towards him, shattering his glasses and hitting him right between the eyes.

“Astute observation,” I acknowledged, watching him tip over in response to my display of unexpected range. But I had to quickly jolt my body into motion again, as the next wave didn’t allow me time to resume a fighting stance. With a firm grip on the ground, I shoved off and shot up like a pogo stick. With some mid-air acrobatics, I landed in an open area. Assuming everypony was an enemy, I sprinted headlong at a somewhat intimidated mare and pounded her barrel with a quick thrust before she had time to marvel at how quickly I had closed the distance between us.

Ah, how I’ve missed this feeling—the art of my people! I mused, practically high off the nostalgia.

I stared at the cobblestone road, almost suspicious of this surefire escape route. I tapped the ground firmly, perplexed.

Do I really want to run? I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fight like this again!

Two stocky stallions hustled in front of me and took the choice out of my hooves. The relief I felt changed my turbulent emotions to pristine clarity.

The two stallions in front of me looked like character actors, as if there was a casting call for the most thuggish ponies Canterlot had to offer. Given their leader's apparent ability to mimic Windy’s appearance, it was possible that they assumed such forms following precisely that criteria. Then again, their armored forelegs didn’t mesh with this impression. And to their credit, they didn’t charge immediately, having seen the ease at which I had defeated the others.

The one on the left snorted with disdain, daring me to strike first. Nonplussed, I took a bold step forward to feel them out. They retreated—a strategic decision as the street narrowed due to some less than pleasing aesthetic features of the vacant buildings.

I casually checked the movements of the “ponies” behind me. They started to spread out somewhat, in the hope that I wouldn’t jump my way out again.

If you only react to what I’ve shown you, you’ll be in for an unpleasant time indeed.

The pony on the right stomped a hoof, apparently offended by my nonchalance. “Don’t you understand your situation? Earth pony magic aside, Españeighan steel will withstand anything!”

I jabbed a hoof lightly towards him, and he rose his armored foreleg to intercept my lazy attack. I cautiously thrust again, a little higher, and then twice more. He and his counterpart deflected each attack with expert skill.

So they’re not just guessing, huh? Although they wrongfully ascribe the source, looks like it’s similar enough to prime them on what to look for.

“Here’s something earth pony magic can’t do,” I gloated.

In one motion I stepped back, planted my hindlegs on the ground, traced a circle with my left forehoof and threw a punch at an intuitively estimated angle. The two brutes shielded their faces instinctively, but for only a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

“You missed!” taunted the stallion on the left. "What’s wrong, little filly? Haven’t got on the trigonometry track yet—uGGH! UGH AHHWW!!”

In less than a single second, he and his counterpart were pelleted by dozens of downwardly accelerating blows raining down.

I hissed in dissatisfaction. Xuva was never my best technique. I briefly lamented that it only worked in this instance since I had the raw power behind it. I never could match Diane’s affinity for the higher-order techniques. And now that we were the same gender, I couldn’t blame the known masculine handicap.

I heard a single set of hoofbeats closing in on me from behind.

“You see? It’s more than just pressurized air.” I lectured.

I kicked a hind leg with as hard as this body would allow, bowling over another “pony” trying to take me by surprise.

“That was air pressure,” I said to nopony in particular.

I took a moment to deliberately assess my situation. I had had my fun, and though I liked my chances, it was clearly time to bail.

There was one more idiot running ahead of the pack, armed with an iron chain he must’ve found lying around. He ran headlong towards me while swinging it carelessly. I stepped back only to avoid a collision with his body. I caught the makeshift weapon between my front hooves and pulled with little restraint.

He was jerked towards me with frightening speed, and in response, I let go on the chain, jumped and planted both rear hooves on his flank.

“Windy” alighted at the front of the pack, signaling with a variety of motions to the crowd behind her.

“Quite a ‘rock’ you had there." She said, clearly trying to suss out my abilities.

“Need I say that it’s not just the rock itself?” I taunted. I then followed up with a half-truth: "You handed me a rare metal infused with magic that enhances the abilities of earth ponies. By absorbing its power, even a filly like me is a match for your hodgepodge mob.”

I waited for as long as I could without the situation around me changing. Although it was a very Equestrian thing to explain my abilities, I reasoned that pretending to do so may entice my enemies to reveal something valuable.

Without hesitation, I kicked behind me towards one of the partially armored stallions to ensure he remained down. I could tell my alert reaction vexed the imposter filly.

Looks like she’s not tempted to tell me anything.

As a precaution, I continued scanning the battlefield for any gaps I could slip through. I had seemingly gotten all I could from the doppelganger of Windy Skies; I could come back later to resolve the mystery of this strange area. Although beating up on amateurs was still satisfying, I couldn’t dismiss the possibility that there was someone among them that could put up a fight.

“I’d tell you to go on, but I’m sure you’ll tell the queen everything in due course,” she boasted.

I suppose that’s something. A rival monarchy, perhaps? One that specializes in shapeshifting?

I shook my head in an unspoken rebuke to myself. I had more than enough intel to tell my own “queen.” At this point, there was no doubt it was pure, foolish pride urging me not to run.

With one quick jump, I completely turned myself around and darted in between the two unconscious stallions. I felt a satisfying wind on my face as I dashed freely down the street, triumphantly… crashing into something very, very... solid.

It took me a second to shake off the pain; my thoughts were mostly directed at thanking myself for having the sense to maintain at least a thin defensive barrier around myself.

I took a second of concentrated effort to get back on four hooves again. When the searing pain in my horn actually got worse, I had to admit there were unique considerations when it came to using the power of Rhod in Equestria. Apparently, my horn didn’t agree with my foreign techniques.

Nonetheless, my fighting instincts had held up, and this was proven anew by my automatic occupation of the free space between me and Windy’s goons.

“I see: you have all eight directions closed off with these barriers?” I asked, to stall more than anything else.

“Windy” said nothing, merely signaling with circular motions of a forehoof.

I charged, even as I simultaneously existed in a state of indecision. This changed when I identified a threat.

My hoof crashed into the ribcage of a mare, who was attempting some kind of incantation. They surely had seen my unnatural speed by now, but actually adapting to it was another matter entirely.

“Take out the long-range spellcasters first. Bears or ponies, the logic remains.”

I methodically looked around, hunting for the next threat As if challenging my softly spoken declaration, a volley of magical energies was sent my way. I slowed my predatory prowl down to a crawl allowing the attacks to converge on me. Crossing into my aura, they hung in the air as if caught in syrup. I could feel the blobs of energy as if they were my own.

I didn’t expect that, but I can make this work.

“Time to throw your attack right on back,” I quipped. “Eat this!”

The mob scattered in response to my bluff.

I took a deep breath and gripped the ground to finally push off as hard as I could. Accelerating madly, I zigzagged between the various individual enemies. Blows delivered with the caprice of a fickle hummingbird, sampling every flower in sight—a thrust here, a kick there, the occasional strike with pressurized air, just the basics.

The foreign magical energy slowly faded from my cloak of magic. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a red smear slowly start to fade away.

Rhodium changes magic. No wonder mine and Equestria’s are oil and water.

“She’s bluffing! Don’t scatter! That’s what she wants!” Windy ordered, leaving little remaining doubt as to who was in charge of this operation. I pretended to ignore her and continued pounding her subordinates.

“Stop fainting, you cowards! Group up and the advantage will be ours.”

Somewhat timidly, the tall “ponies” surrounding me started to clump together. Admittedly this tactic was more effective, as the first group moved carefully and left me no room to knife between them. After quickly calculating the odds of the restrained approach bearing fruit, I funneled more of the power to my perimeter.

I let loose a savage yell and sent my adversaries flying, all in a bunch. Some of them even landed on top of each other. It was a crude method, but fortunately, they had no way of knowing the technique’s weak point.

Concerned, I drew most of the power back into my core.

Not good. Shielding myself from that collision took more out of me than I’d thought.

Despite seeing the results of their allies’ implementation of “Windy’s” strategy, the phalanx of minions organized themselves into a line, like a proper army.

The streets behind me are wide open. They’re not even trying to hide that the barrier has full coverage.

I grinned. I wasn’t about to run. I knew once I took out “Windy Skies,” I could just keep hitting her until she tells me the way out.

The ponies at the head of the battalion broke into a trot, and row by row, an impetus seemed to spread until at least three dozen were galloping straight at me.

Making sure to keep my Equestrian magic quarantined, I directed as much of my power as I could in my right forehoof. I visualized the energy slowly condensing into a single point, and then released. Before the energy had completely escaped me, I mentally sculpted my attack to fundamentally change its properties and the nature of the compression.

My technique sped towards the center of the mob, brimming with energy, like a chemical reaction yearning to burst from its restrictive vessel.

The unseen energy clipped a mare near the front on the nose, burning some fur. She was apparently the exception as the others dodged the magic bullet instinctively.

“That’s all?”

“But it felt—”

“I thought—”

“Like it could’ve killed—”

Ah. I finally figured it out: I told everypony sarcastically that I liked rocks on the first day of school, because my favorite color was gray. That’s what’s the deal is with all those rocks.

“You idiots! Now’s the time to pounce! She misfired with a lot of ener— WEHAAHHHHHHH!”

The first bang erupted at the epicenter of where I aimed. Those with inside positions were launched into the air. A cascade of further explosions rippled through the entire group, bodies colliding. Each pop seemingly triggered three more. For the finale, the remnants of my attack ricocheted wildly between the unfortunate ponies left standing. One stallion in particular looked like he was getting slapped in the face repeatedly.

With the last pop, a dissonant silence fell upon the forgotten corner of Canterlot we had turned into a battlefield. Every single one of my foes had been bowled over. I made my way over to the pile in a triumphant slow walk.

“You—what did you do?” Asked one of the partially armored stallions I had previously knocked out.

In response, I simply raised a hoof.

“EEEEEEEEEEP!” he shrieked, bolting back towards where I had bested him before. I patiently observed him as he attempted to make his escape. A moment later, I heard the thwack of his muzzle hitting the barrier at full speed.

So either the mage is on the outside, or the spell persists even with the caster knocked out.

I felt the overwhelming power begin to subside, as I had predicted. Ranabe took more energy—magical energy, I supposed. There were like four different types of magic in Equestria itself, so I reasoned the term could accommodate Rhodish geomancy. It amazed me how concentrated the magic in that little slab of rhodium was. If there were any doubts that rhodium was a magic-trapping sink, my performance had put them to bed.

I inhaled. It was as if I could smell the palpable residue of my ethereal attack. Considering a shockingly brief time in Equestria had given me the ability to see magic, such a possibility wasn’t out of the question.

As if corroborating up my argument, my earth pony senses chimed in with detailed data on the soil beneath me, information that I hadn’t learned to decipher yet.

To finish my contemplation of alicorn attributes, I looked to the sky. I was somewhat surprised to see it wasn’t even mid-afternoon. Fighting with abandon certainly warped one’s perception of time.

I dashed back to the pile, hoping to excavate the false Windy Skies and find my way out of this dump. Upon taking a closer look at my vanquished opponents, I was frozen and appalled. The ponies appeared… disfigured. Something was subtly off. While they looked like ponies, a million little things were wrong.

My first feeling was that of guilt, wondering if I had somehow corrupted them with foreign magic. I then recalled earlier seeing the immiscible magic—

I jumped.

A sudden vortex began brewing at the center of the pony pile. I only started to strategize once the vacuum sensation had faded. While at first I had mistaken it for a hurricane, a shrill laugh cut through any confusion.

I jerked my head towards the source and saw exactly who I had expected: Maniacal Laughter. She was handling a gargantuan vacuum and was floating in the air on a flying carpet of all things.

“Excellent! Excellent. With my Removal-Limo anypony can make a getaway in style!”

The unconscious “ponies” started to be sucked into the air and into the evil gizmo. After verifying that I wasn’t being targeted, I had just enough time to contemplate the fact that losing sight of Windy would jeopardize my escape. Fortunately, my trained kinetic vision didn’t falter and left me certain: I did not see the faux filly amongst the flying fallen.

I calculated how much of my remaining magic would be needed to send the flying annoyance crashing to the ground.

My entire being jolted from the realization.

The barrier!

Without another moment wasted, I fired a pulse down the closest street. Because it was only a few seconds removed from my magic-extended periphery, I could sense a fraction of it ricochet back at me. In an instant I had what I needed: the barrier still stood, and it would mostly absorb whatever Rhodish techniques I threw at it.

The method I had used was a crude one, one that had been abandoned for all practical purposes on Rhod. I would have marveled at its situational usefulness, but the adrenaline was still flowing freely and my thought process confined itself to the immediately relevant details.

Do I knock her out? No, that’s what I thought before. But how’d she get in?

Was she always here?

There’s no way I would miss her! Even if a “pony” like that could somehow lay low, if she were projecting the barrier there would be some sign—from my Equestrian magic sense if nothing else.

How could I—Equestrian!!

I briefly panicked. I had been so possessed by the sensation of combat that I hadn’t stopped to consider my pony senses—to truly listen to them. They’d never left, but hearing them was no substitute for listening

I instantly righted the ship and reached out with my three alicorn faculties.

I quickly came to the realization that I didn’t know a darned thing about pegasi’s perception of magic. While it was a fairly weak correlation, knowing my native geomancy let me feel a vague something with earth magic. Fortunately, my unicorn senses could compensate for any deficiency and confirmed what I felt.

She’s not the source, but—

I charged at the slight abnormality and slashed at the epicenter with a forehoof.

Instead of providing a satisfying squishing sensation, it felt like kicking a soccer ball. Confused, I looked upward and saw that my assumption had been correct: I was dealing with some strange flora.

The plump, orange mushroom spun awkwardly several times in mid-air before hitting the soft ground with a lame thud. Truthfully, I didn’t know what to expect. What my senses were telling me was absurd, but the evidence was persuasive.

“Ow…. ow… okay, that one did hurt,” I heard a childish voice buzz.

Before my eyes, the mushroom folded outwards to reveal a chitinous core. As the flaps changed orientation and began to shrink, the core expanded into the shape of a quadruped bug. Its exoskeleton was reflective and porous. The blue eyes were monochrome and resembled plastic. While I was doing an adequate job at containing my confusion, it was strangely relaxing to watch the former surface of the mushroom stretch and mold itself into a pair of bug wings.

I waited for him to grow, but he remained foal-sized. After that expectation had faded, I stared at him with feigned disinterest while I shifted my native mana to complement a defensive stance. Child or not, he was dangerous.

The creature blinked its eyes and looked me over.

“You don’t seem surprised,” the creature observed.

I shook my head in response. “I lost my bearings long ago when it comes to the strange. I’m more surprised to not hear a perky, girlish voice coming from you anymore.”

“He” hissed. “I get that a lot. I hate playing fillies; they’re so hyper and playful all the time. Just my luck that I’m second-to-none at imitating them. At least as a supervillain, I get to slather on the hamhoofedness.”

So he’s The Miser. Useful information, but he’s trying to stall.

As I took a mighty first step, I had him instantly in my sights. I wound up to strike with a forehoof.

His body convulsed and he contorted to present his back as a target. I could almost imagine a bright yellow sheen starting to form.

I had no choice but to follow-through with the motion I had started.

A bluff, I reassured myself with what little time I did have.

Although I struck him hard, he must have known I was holding back. I wouldn’t let him rely on that assumption a second time. Pushing off with the hoof I used to strike him, I brought the other forehoof to bear.

This time, instead of the expected solid contact, I felt a putty-like shifting.

A second later, my involuntary screams filled the air. My body convulsed, with an agonizing electric current spreading to seemingly every nerve I had. It took everything I had to just pull back.

The convulsive muscle spasms allowed me to conclude that this wasn’t cheap imitation electricity, either. I grit my teeth and tried to ride it out.

“My specialty: a partial morph to an electric eel. They never see it coming,” he boasted.

He turned back around, with his rear now facing me as he began to change once more.

He glanced at me with an improbable blush on his bug face.

“It’s just a spinneret! Don’t stare!”

It’s not like I can choose where to look at the moment. I thought with distaste.

He paused. “Then again, I suppose I can spare myself the effort of tying you up. Hey, ML, if you’ve got everyone buckled in, can I get a little help here?”

The ridiculous mare sucked one last pony into her contraption and laughed. “I would, my pretty little partner, but I have a date with Rising Sun tonight!”

The flying carpet rapidly accelerated and sliced across the open air, totally unimpeded by the barrier.

“Wait! She can’t—” he sighed, looking at me for some kind of consolation. “What an idiot… nopony’s getting through the barrier. She should know—she made it.”

I punched him in the face.

“OW!! I thought you were out for the —couOWWWW!!”

He recoiled from my second punch.

“And up to now, I had thought you were smarter than your average villain.”

As a retort, he swung his entire body around and kicked with both hind hooves. I dodged with plenty of room to spare, cautiously awaiting the next surprise. He charged and our front hooves collided and interlocked, somehow.

I still didn’t fully understand pony physics, and I chastised myself for wasting a thought on it. Instead, I relied on my intuition to tell me that the tense equilibrium between our non-hands could be broken by either of us at any moment.

“As expected: you may know more magic tricks than an average unicorn filly, but you must be running on fumes at this point.”

I quickly threw my body into a front flip, swinging my rear hooves over my withers while breaking the tension just as I needed to, resulting in a very much unexpected kick to the back of his neck.

If he thought he had gotten a rise about me, he was right. How dare here— even indirectly—call me an average filly. I gently shoved off of him. I spun in the air and prepared to throw all my weight down on him.

He twitched beneath me before deliberately raising his back once more.

You ARE NOT going to psyche me out. This time you really are bluffing.

I connected with his outer shell and felt a satisfying crunch.

And… a pang of sympathy.

I let out a gasp. A moment later, I audibly scoffed at my own weakness.

I had implicitly accepted the fact that I wouldn’t be going for the kill in this situation. I could sell myself on the practical problems of such an act, if I didn’t want to consider an emerging sense of compassion; however, I even found myself worrying if his exoskeleton would recover. And he was the enemy!

So I distracted myself for a moment.

I was right: he can’t do two at once. The spinneret isn’t gone yet, so no electric eel.

Fortunately, my opponent seemed no worse for wear.

“I see: you—”

He blocked my jump kick.

“Enough talk!” I barked out.

Given how this world worked, I’d probably start explaining my techniques if I kept gabbing.

A kick from me, a perfect block from him. Another kick another perfect block. A series of quick jabs and he weaves between them. He thrusts with perfect timing, and I time my dodge just as perfectly.

Curious, I unleashed another flurry of attacks. He fluidly responded to each motion I made.

My attack was a standard sequence, transformed with my human form, that I had mastered through thousands of repetitions. Ideal combat would be free-flowing, but given the small window available for decisions in practice, mastery lay in stitching together finite rehearsed sequences.

I took a glancing blow to the face to get back on offense. With deceitful intent, I uncanned the same violent motions. He was better prepared the second time, validating my estimation of him.

He does have decent fighting instincts.

He deflected my dainty princess hoof with ease. For sure, we had surprised each other.

“I’ll tell you, just as I told Rising Sun: I’m no slouch when it comes to fighting.”

I smirked. And he just had to say it. So uncool...

Preferring to make my disapproval known kinesthetically, I threw a hook at him as an opener, then a kick, before initiating my attack pattern yet again. Without warning, in the midst of it, I dropped down low and swept my hindlegs under him in an attempt to take out his legs.

I made solid contact with three of the four legs, but he hopped up on the fourth in an attempt to avoid me. I struck his underside with my head, like an incensed bull. It would have been a satisfying countermove, but I forgot a “little” detail.

My opponent weakly coughed a few times as he forcibly picked himself up after being floored.

“I had thought I wasn’t underestimating you, but for a princess to use her horn like that—that’s gutsy!”

I nodded stoically.

On the inside, shooting pain sped through my long alicorn horn, like a series of cascading whirlpools. When the intensity had spread evenly throughout, it started pulsing. Somehow it kept getting worse and worse.

I’m going to really hurt myself if I keep forgetting that.

After three seconds of silence, he made a cryptic comment: “Don’t underestimate her? It’s not like she knows about our bond.”

He turned his attention back towards me. “I assure you: you will need more than mere tricks to topple me!” he boasted.

A tense moment passed as we locked eyes.

Simultaneously, we both started to gallop at full speed. He went for a headbutt that was so reckless that I could predict his next move. Right on cue, a pair of long minotaur horns sprouted from his skull, perfect for goring me.

Nonetheless, I saw opportunity. I swiftly stepped back and carefully timed my jump. With a downward sweep of my hind legs I made contact with the base of his left horn.

He screamed as his headgear was hammered with such force that it started to crack his exoskeleton as the left horn was torn from its home.

“Turns out I know more than a few tricks,” I said with boredom directed at his pedestrian bravado.

It’s just like those traitors back home that fought for the enemy. The ones with protrusions where they don’t belong—it can take some time to develop the connective tissue and cartilage to support them.

He screamed a second time upon seeing the separated horn plop on the ground.

Yet, when I moved in to finish him off, he willed his body into action to block, still howling all the while. We exchanged blows for about fifteen seconds before the yelling finally stopped. A moment later, we strategically dropped back at the same time.

“I don’t know about you, but I can keep doing this all day. I can win any war of attrition. It’s like my special ability.”

I dodged a lazy punch. “I thought that partial morphing thing was your calling card.”

He hesitated and a sideswipe connected with his chin. He didn’t flinch.

“Well, that too…” he muttered meekly.

Silence prevailed for the next five minutes of hoof to hoof combat. I was impressed by his ability to continuously adapt to my fighting style, but fortunately, I was equally good at making adjustments. He went down three times, each in the sequence seemingly affecting him less.

He laughed and gregariously spread his forehooves. “I put you through the full gauntlet, and I can say you passed every test with full marks! You leave me no choice—”

I was ready to ignore him and primed my muscles to charge. Then, in a heartbeat, my honed intuition for Equestrian strangeness kicked in. I considered putting on the brakes for half a second but changed my mind again. If I was correct, I couldn’t afford to allow him any time.

He had apparently assumed I would let him finish, as I connected with a sucker punch.

“Hey, that was cheap!” he complained after a high-pitched yelp of pain.

With mechanical relentlessness, I struck him again. At this point, he finally decided that if he was going to keep monologuing, he may as well defend himself while doing so.

I absorbed a weak hit and struck back while he was whining something “unfair” and something “hardly polite.” I really didn’t care.

“If you’re going to take off the kid gloves, at least show the smarts to keep it to yourself.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, slightly tense, finally shaking off the fighting stupor that had befallen him.

“Isn’t this when you break out special ability number three?”

“What!? No!” he scoffed.” I was going to say you leave me no choice but to admit you’re better than me.”

He blocked where I feinted and recovered in time to taper the force of the real hit.

“Uh-huh, then why are you smiling?" I asked.

“Because I know something you don’t,” he gloated. “You’re better than me, but a filly like you just doesn’t have the power to finish me off.”

I was almost perturbed.

Wait, he’s not mocking me.

“Your magic concerns me,” he admitted, "but I won’t be fooled into thinking that you have infinite mana.”

As if to strengthen his next statement, he absorbed my punch.

“I’ll say it again: you won’t beat me in a war of attrition.”

He’s awfully confident that the stalemate favors him. Maniacal Laughter defeating Rising Sun isn’t even the most likely outcome, let alone a safe bet. It’s too elaborate for a bluff. I should probably believe him.

I smirked, opening my body to the natural, gentle flow of my Rhodish mana. It washed over me, turbo-charging my muscles and bones.

I faked a gallop, stopped, and having faked him out, flung some charged pulses at him. He wasn’t able to dodge given his indecision between backpedaling and standing still.

I pounced. Eliminating his separation from me in a single step, I hit him the hardest I had yet.

He vomited what looked like green slime. And once again, concern washed over me.

I don’t mean to kill him…

I clenched my teeth. As I repeated the same internal debate. I considered this could be another symptom of my Equestrian re-conditioning. Still, there were logical reasons to stop short of finishing him off.

He slowly sprouted a dragon’s tail and wasted no time in using it to assist in pushing off the ground. Taking a page out of my book, he faked a headlong charge and used the tail to redirect his momentum. He staggered his movements brilliantly.

Impressive. That’s not something I can dodge with mere technique.

He jumped, flipped in mid-air, and brought down the extra appendage to strike.

With a single, unwavering hoof I absorbed the entirety of his attack’s momentum. In a show of raw strength I leveraged the friction between us to drag him to the ground, not even caring enough to make the impact disorienting for him.

“I see: you were holding back. This changes nothing.”

Before I could ready a response he spoke again. “What do you mean don’t underestimate her? I have Unblemish Fungus for magical damage and you take care of the physical.”

I decided to stop giving him leeway for unexplained craziness.

With mild contempt, I took a savage swing at him and then another. I was finally able to deduce that there was something beyond magic, something beyond the corporeal that enshrouded him.

I let loose a yell as barbaric as my adapted fighting style. I counted. It took thirty-four blows before that something gave way. On the thirty-fifth I held back again; despite the light blow, I finally had the gratification of solid contact.

“Turns out that magic isn’t everything, but you know that already. In my case, the enemies I know don’t stand around and let you hit them with flashy spells. What I showed you before was the quaint naivete of a civilization that knows little of magic. This gave way to pragmatism. Our true power—my true power is the common, but effective, ability to enhance physical abilities. With practice, even a filly can do this.”

I went a bit overboard there...

At least I had the sense to refrain from spelling out what percentage of my full might I had unleashed. Especially since I was approaching one-hundred.

I expected at least a flimsy bravado in response to my haughtiness. Instead, I saw him as a child for the first time. I even observed an undefined sheen that had coated his shell had apparently faded. He looked on the verge of crying as he hung his head. His wings even seemed lower to the ground.

“You’re just saying that…” he muttered. “She beat our unbeatable combination…”

“Umm, hello?” I said with an unexpected filly twang in my voice.

“Try? What’s the point…” He continued to mumble, ignoring me.

I dashed at him. With a calculated restraint I limited the power in my forelegs and galloped to deliver the haymaker.

I hit like a filly.

Literally.

I should have known instinctively something was wrong when my gallop speed had noticeably slowed. But for a knockout blow to become a mere tap destined to bounce of his exoskeleton, something was deeply wrong.

My first reaction was to be screaming mad. I had done everything right. I thought I hadn’t even touched half my mana reservoir, to save it for real danger and unexpected Equestrian magical nonsense. I couldn’t possibly be out already.

I quenched my anger for a lucid moment.

My mana doesn’t mix. Harmony wouldn’t like that. And this body is no stronger than a girl of eight; without being an alicorn, I doubt I would even graze that mark.

Yes, there was plenty that could have gone wrong.

It was fitting. I thought I was practicing moderation when feeding my lust for battle, moderation in the use of my foreign abilities. I was wrong on both counts and now faced double peril. In any event, I was not going to make that mistake again.

Let’s see how an Equestrian solution works out, then.

I “hit” him again and giggled.

“Dummy. I’ve already won. I’m not going to finish you off!” I chirped.

The smile I wore, though more resilient than expected, felt like it could falter at any moment.

“I never said that,” he said.

“Well you thought it!” I hastily replied—time was not on my side. “You may be strong, but you’re still a child. What are they going to do, throw you in jail?”

He scrutinized me, and I spent several tense seconds trying to iron the wrinkles out of my unnatural, happy countenance.

He’s a foreign agent! I don’t know what I’m thinking. He’s probably trained to endure captivity. Promising leniency won’t do any good!

He looked down. “What do you care? I’m just a changeling. Nopony wants us around. Most want to pretend that—it’s like we don’t exist.”

I momentarily enjoyed my good fortune.

“Why would you care?” he asked. “You have an entire kingdom to think of. I’m just one little bug. Why should I accept your pity? What am I to you?”

One answer came to mind.

And only one answer.

A moment later, still only one answer at hand.

I sighed.

This one is going to hurt…

I beamed.

“We can be friends! I love making friends with other ponies—and other beings too. I met a zebra the other day! She was really nice!”

His surprise appeared to be etched on a petrified, pensive expression. For a moment, I could see happiness, and then a distant longing.

Did it work? Did I go overboard? How do I follow that up?

“I—”

I waited for him to continue.

“A bluff? What are you talking about, Tlledem?”

I finally concluded he was talking to himself after I braved the silence to think clearly.

“How? She was pummeling me a moment ago. I can’t match that, especially not without you.”

I could envision gears turning in the mind of the young bug pony. He nodded, a concession.

I saw muscles tense in his left foreleg. It seemed to melt into his calf before taking the shape of a stinger.

He raised it elegantly in front of him like a rapier. “You presume to dictate the terms. Then dodge this—if you can!”

Time froze to a halt. In that altered state I was able to calculate that remaining motionless was the best bet. It was a stock tactic I was familiar with: intentionally shifting one’s aim to hit an evading foe. Then again, it had the side effect of making you look like a complete idiot if your opponent calls your bluff.

I made him look like a complete idiot.

For one second—then a flurry of lazy swipes to follow-up forced me to dance. Somehow, in the midst of all the dodging, I managed to create some space. Nonetheless, he had the information he needed.

“I can philosophize later about the how and the why. The only point that matters is that you are now—” He licked his lips in a forced gesture. “Un-armed. We may never know who would prevail in a barehoof brawl. A pity.”

He thrusted sloppily, so I was able to read his movement and dodge. I was somewhat surprised at his next flurry of quick attacks, which revealed some acumen. I hopped low to the left, did a half roll, stopped, ducked and rolled to the side. I had calculated the sequence as a possibility in advance. Fortunately, I had the greater foresight.

He raised his saber arm in the air in a triumphant gesture while cackling..

“Are you feeling it now. One swipe is enough to paralyze a Gallopagos Marine Ursa!”

“Yeah, you didn’t get me…” I said meekly. For a moment, awkwardness penetrated the palpitations of raw combat.

His eyes changed complexion in surprise. “Well then, I guess—Round 2. En garde!”

I bolted.

“Hey!! Get back here, he called uselessly after me.

This is bad. All I can do now is stall. Beating him is possible, but I would have to be nothing short of flawless.!

I glanced back at my pursuer.

Rising Sun isn’t coming…

The hoofbeats dogging me picked up their pace.

I think I know where the barrier is, but what’s the use? He’ll definitely catch up to me when I make a course correction

I heard the buzzing of bug wings. Out of fear, I made a snap decision: my stamina wouldn’t last, so I’d press my luck. As I ground my hoves to a rough stop, I reached out with my earth pony senses to the planet’s crust and its core.

By the suffering of my ancestors, I live to seize this day. Fettered to the Earth we are no longer! Now, Equus, I command you: be my sword and shield, for you are mine to use!

Just hearing that ornamental mantra in my head was enough to calm me down somewhat. Nevertheless, it only took two seconds for that to fade. This was in the category of indescribable moments. In particular, it was one of those awful realizations in which the prospect of what was taken for granted begins to fade, its probability tailing off with every half-second. It turned out that earth magic wasn’t that similar to what I was used to.

He rose the same hoof as before and morphed it back into the rapier stinger.

Run? Run!

My body failed to react.

I can’t? I’m already out of breath? Is this the limit of an alicorn filly?”

He encroached with deliberate care and caution.

This is the end? I’m actually going to die in happy pony land?

A dark realization rocked my very soul.

No, it’s worse: they have every motivation to uncork the magic and turn me into an infant.

It took every ounce of skill and strength I had to avoid his next attack.

This is really the end? The end of my life as a pony? It… it feels like I barely started. I’ll never get to go to pony camp. School wasn’t even that bad. I’ll never walk there with Pink Diamond ever again? Never see Squirt or Bulwark? Never be forced into a dress so I can complain about it endlessly? Okay, maybe not that...

Somehow it felt like I was losing something even greater. A sense of a lingering, incomplete state.

There was also—the cuddles? Twilight’s convoluted experiments? The occasional sugary treat of my own choosing? Annuity thinking she can rap? Getting blackmailed by Pestle.

Actually, there’s nothing endearing about the last one. Perhaps even she’ll be the one to force me into the dress.

My brain hung in a sort of still disbelief. That moment of inactivity, however, made the next thought glide across my consciousness —a parade of progressing memories, each re-experienced with guided minimalism, like a page partially illuminated by candlelight.

Did I ever even start living? No, but—yes, though I did avoid… I resisted everything, didn’t I? Complained—treated the whole affair like a chore.

I was realizing all too late my folly. My own feelings were antithetical to the idea of accepting the strangeness and novelty with open arms, but that was never a threat, or even anyone’s expectation. I didn’t need to gravitate to the other extreme to preserve myself.

Have I really, truly lost anything so far? Beyond the obvious? I wondered.

I saw the finishing blow wobble towards me. He was hesitating for some reason. It didn’t matter; I surmised that I had less than a one-in-fifty chance of dodging. Complicated acrobatics I might still be able to manage, but I could only will my body to accelerate so quickly.

I never really lost myself. I stated plainly in my mind.

I closed my eyes.

It seemed poetic that after agonizing over the loss of mere shavings of myself, I would accept the loss of everything—a death in every sense that truly mattered. Or maybe I just didn’t want what may be my last action to be an ignominious failed dodge to bookend my ultimate defeat.

At once, I became cognizant of a ripple on the periphery of my senses. What had lightly taxed me the whole time faded and I wondered how I could have possibly become inured to it. In any event, the barrier had faded.

I heard clang of loud contact. And a crunching.

My eyes opened instantly, curiosity commandeering the ship.

I saw yellow. A shade that cheerfully frequented my room.

“Flower… Power…? How…?” I babbled, as my eyes scanned her cutie mark, finding exactly the same simple flower symbol I expected.

Equestrian silliness had me dumbfounded at the best of times, but seeing the maid armed and in light combat gear was a new high water mark.

She winked playfully as she casually overwhelmed my exhausted foe’s morphed leg with the shaft of a pony-sized polearm.

“Star’s not your only protector. Besides, I told you, didn’t I? I’m a ninja!” she announced playfully.

An exiled draconequus casually stepped over the chandelier below the table.

“Diane! Diane!? Have you seen that charged rhodium I’d been saving?”

Diane shook her head.

“Don’t call me like that!” the resident “bouncy ball wall” for suggestions griped. “It makes us sound like a married couple! And one husband is enough for me, thank you.”

Quarrel puffed his cheeks as a buffer against laughter, cleared his throat and coughed conspicuously.

“What was that?” asked Diane.

“N—nothing…”

“It sounded like you were about to laugh at another lame, non-joke.”

“Nope, nothing funny here!” He laughed for good effect.

Diane rolled her eyes and sat down in a nonsensically proportioned chair with three armrests. She stroked her abdomen ritualistically, as if confirming what was definitely there. “I put it in the drawer. The drawer. As in you only have one.”

Quarrel raked a claw across his face. “No, no, that’s not where you put it! If you want to find it any time soon, anyway. For me a drawer is where I put stuff I want to lose.”

“That makes—sense?” Diane confessed. “Now I know I’ve been working with you too long—and I barely know you.”

A single breath of laughter escaped from Quarrel. His restraint was nonetheless met with a stern look.

“So where do we look?” Diane asked, regaining her bearings in Quarrel’s backwards logic.

The “great one” kicked a jack-in-the-box to the side.

He sighed.

“It’s as good as gone. It tends to be random, but chaos seeks chaos. It could be where I entered the world, for example.” He let that sink in for a moment before grabbing a candlestick. “Or it could be where I won the interdimensional under eighteen-hundred golf championship!” He closed one eye, measured and took a swing at a ball of yarn. It arced upward and landed in a bucket on the ceiling.

“GOAL!!!”

“Does that ruin our plan?” Diane asked, weighed down by overwhelming guilt.

Quarrel cracked the joints in his stomach. “Well, it takes away any chance of me prevailing in a fight, which I was never good at it, by the way. No choice: we have to resort to diplomacy.”

“Shall we start with the ‘strange bird’ your scouts found?” Diane, said with forced optimism. “Maybe it’s another species affected by your magic, if it can talk.”

“Yeah, I think it’s over there,” Quarrel said, pointing.

“Give up, House,” said a young boy. We’re not going to just stumble on Quarrel! The underground tunnels were interesting for a while, but I want to move onto the next planet.”

DIane and Quarrel both froze at the unexpected voice. It suggested an unexpected, unnerving presence as real as any other.

Author's Note

That was long and challenging. I hope that amidst the fight scene, I conveyed what I needed.

Chapter 40

Regal Force thoughtfully stroked his horn as he escorted his son out of the executive suite. The horn thing was a gesture he had picked up at some point. It implied indecision and, indirectly, humility. It put ponies at ease; that was a good enough reason.

“Father, you have to believe me! We really did find Quarrel!” Tourbillon Craft pleaded.

The massive stallion tapped firmly on the decorative pillar. “You know very well video feeds can be faked. Don’t they teach you anything at that school of yours?”

“I’m not lying!” the colt wailed.

“I’m not saying you are.” But I’m thinking it. “You have to understand that your claims will cause massive upheaval. You do know what’s at stake here?”

“Of course! We can return to our original bodies. It’s what you and Mom have waited for this whole time, right?”

Regal nodded, savoring the fruit of his deception.

“I’ll prove it to you when the probe comes back!”

“By all means, prove it.” Regal challenged, gesturing to the door.

The stubborn colt stomped his hooves and trudged away in a funk.

The CEO shut the door on the distraction and relaxed.

“Tourbillon Craft—which one is he again?”

His personal assistant buzzed to life at the rhetorical request as a detailed breakdown appeared in his mind’s eye. Studying the report, the jet-black stallion trotted over to his window-side desk. The quadruped-adapted human antique had quite the history to it, but he never could be bothered to remember it.

“Oh, that one. ‘Crafty.’”

Shame. He had potential at one point, but a tad too scatterbrained. The intellect is there, but too meek—a common pony failing. The more successful stock is more decisive—not that intelligence isn’t appreciated as well.

Regal put his head to the desk and mused, idly studying the urban landscape through the reinforced window. His view wasn’t anything spectacular, but that was fitting. The nature of his position was the first among equals—a trusted steward of his race’s continued growth and prosperity. In the same way, his spartan penthouse didn’t look like much but the rarity of its furnishings was awe-inspiring to a select knowledgeable few.

“Vanity,” he voiced deliberately. “Were I a vain man, it might bother me how I got here.”

Genius? No. Talent? No. He was simply lucky.

He shook himself out of distraction. The kid knew better than to interrupt him at work. Now he couldn’t remember what he had been doing.

Quarrel, huh?

Regal felt a measure of elation.

I’m not seriously thinking he could be telling the truth, am I?

He laughed. “I wish,” he assured himself. “Worse leads with better odds of furthering our cause should be prioritized, of course. Weapons—it’s always about weapons. Even I grow tired of it.”

But getting our bodies back? What a preposterous notion. Not a living soul remembers, but she and I. To think they actually believe I want—that we all want to turn back to 'normal'. Can’t they see that what was once happenstance has become the logical evolution of our race. Before we were caught in a quagmire of bickering factions. Prey animals, on the other hand, can be herded in one direction. They know this—everypony knows this—but as long as they can be sold on the destination, they believe they’re following the path of their own volition.

He chuckled. “What am I posturing for? I’m no demagogue. I just happen to be the only one in this position in history.”

He may have thought the same thing when the board chose him over me…

He savored the unending source of satisfaction. And now she serves solely to warm my bed.

Snapping back to attention, he stole a glance at the elder wood clock.

“Gah, distractions!”

Somehow centuries of stalemate did nothing to dampen the urgency.

Those accursed Arbiters! Acting like they’re higher beings when, in reality, they’re just cowards hiding behind their immunity to heat, energy, radiation, and God knows what else! But cut them, and they die in seconds. Good luck getting that close, though!

He looked at the tablet in front of him, read the report and sighed. “This blockhead again? We tried magic before! Many times.” He skimmed to the bottom and scoffed. “Turn them into ponies? I’ve heard that one before too. It may have even been my idea.”

Regal was at first overcome with amusement upon reaching the end. Somehow it sounded stupider the more he thought about it.

A natural source of anti-magic, huh? If you believe that, I’ve got a magnetic monopole to sell you...

Before I really registered what had happened, Flower Power had subdued the changeling child soldier. I took some pride in the fact that he had been on his last legs as well. I probably would have won if I hadn’t screwed around and hit him full-power before he knew what to expect.

As I pondered this point of bittersweet pride, a small army of guardsponies descended on the empty lot, a bit too late to be useful. Still, they solved the logistical problem of having to carry the little bugpony all across the town.

As I walked back to the castle with the ninja maid leading the way, the conversation was slow to come. After all, somepony I had believed to be one thing was actually a covert operative put in place for my own protection.

“So are there any other secret protectors I should know about?” I asked a tad annoyed, as we trudged through a crowded street.

She shook her head ever so slightly as if afraid the exchange would be overheard.

The mare had donned a robe at some point and carried her weapon openly on her withers, clearly frightening the ponies who wanted to mob the filly alicorn sheepishly trotting behind. Somehow this was a more unsettling brand of silence.

“Um… so, Flower Power?” I asked again.

“Yes?” she asked with a warm charm, in stark contrast to her current appearance.

“Why didn’t Star or any of the others follow me?”

“I saw two River Glades and two Windy Skies exit the schoolhouse, so I knew what I was dealing with,” she explained. “Star understandably stopped looking for you once she saw the first pair at the front gate, so I knew which set I had to follow. I don’t think she was fooled for long, but your opponent made sure to take the most crowded streets.”
“I—I didn’t notice that…” I confessed.

I got the sense that Flower Power knew more than she was letting on. This made me somewhat uncomfortable; after all, this whole time I had no idea there was a hostile faction of shapeshifters.

“So is your cutie mark a fake?” I asked, hoping to diffuse the tension.

“What do you mean?”

“Well yours is just flowers, and—you know—that doesn’t really suggest a ninja, you know?”

She slowed down her brisk pace to accommodate me, or maybe just to formulate her answer.

“What do you think ninjas do?

Alarm bells went off in my head, cautioning me that a slightly careless response would make me sound like a moron. “Well, I mean—I guess it would be stuff like sneaking around and spying and that sort of thing.”

“So what mark would you expect me to have?”

“Like one of those weird words… or like a throwing knife!”

She stopped. I could see that she was trying to be tactful in her response before abruptly given up. “That would certainly help with the sneaking around and spying: a mark that says ‘Hey! Look at me: I’m a ninja!’”

I laughed at my own expense, having failed to heed my brain’s warning.

After we had parted ways, my fatigue flared up again to the point of making me wonder how I had made it as far as I did. I finally made it to my room, glad that Celestia didn’t immediately summon me.

While I sometimes resisted the notion that it had become my home, tonight, its quietude was just what I needed. Or so I thought. As I habitually hopped atop my bed, I grappled with strange insomnia my adrenaline had mutated into. Curiosity, fear, satisfaction, regret all intermingled and pulsed outward.

What do I make of this. What do I make of this?

I dueled a worthy opponent and was on the cusp of victory. As soon as the thought intruded, I resisted it—I wasn’t bothered that I nearly lost. He got lucky that my native mana evaporated as quickly as it did; I got lucky that there was a ninja maid following me around. It all balanced out.

I sighed, as I flattened a crease in my comforter with a forehoof. Considering that my feelings hadn’t gone through such logical hoops, it was unsurprising that rationalizing it failed to cure me.

I rolled on my back and stretched my four legs outward. It was an unladylike position, yet somehow, it seemed to resemble the sort of dramatic posturing that might have suited Rarity. I just knew I was close to unraveling the knot of emotions.

“Am I feeling guilty because I decided to fight?”

I was tempted to bat away the notion. It was honestly a relief to fight at a high level again. I stole a glance at my mirror. Slowly the face I saw had become my own. I hadn’t bothered to trim my eyelashes anymore, yet there were still some holdovers of my time as a colt. Or was I just imagining it? How did I know what ponies thought of as boyish and girlish?

I sighed again, like a total drama queen. I wanted to talk, but Celestia would probably treat me like a traumatized foal—if she weren’t busy interrogating a pint-sized secret agent, that is.

How else can I describe it?

Most of my mental hangups had revolved around my negotiation of all things pony while trying not to lose myself. This conflict felt somehow more distant. It was now plain as day that I could engage with Equestria and not betray my identity.

“So what?” I asked, in a jaded tone that reminded me somewhat of Squirt.

As I mouthed the words, I realized that it wasn’t a trivial question. What did I have? A few bits, the mask from Annuity’s birthday party, physical activities, Bulwark? Games with Squirt? School, homework? Listing it like that made it sound like I spent my days shuffling from one activity to the next, not really committing to anything.

So... What now?

I momentarily dozed off. While I shook myself awake in what felt like an instant, my body seemed lighter and relaxed. The calm I felt was disturbed, however, by his entry.

“Oh, it’s you,” I scoffed. “I thought I was rid of you.”

The brown stallion frowned, but he didn’t complain as he scooted slightly away from me on the bed. “I never went away; it’s just that you don’t seem to need me as much anymore.”

I rolled my eyes. “You said it, not me. So why appear now?”

He scratched his chin. “I thought you might want to talk. I—I heard what you said earlier. I’m not going to force anything on you. Or expect you to change…”

He looked at me expectantly. I glared.

“I didn’t say that; I thought it. Get out of my head.”

His ears drooped in a rather pathetic gesture for an adult. I let him bask in shame for a little bit.

“You wanted to talk to somepony—I know, get out of your head; I’m sorry.”

I admired the unadorned ceiling. “Auburn seems to want me to do filly things. You want me to do pony things. I don’t need either of you, let alone both of you.”

As I looked back at his furry brown muzzle, I observed that he seemed to have found his courage again.

“I’ve never asked you to do anything,” he insisted. “I don’t know—I don’t remember what I am or what I’m doing here, but I want to do good. Maybe I’m your guardian spirit?”

“Pay attention,” I snarked. “I definitely don’t have one of those.”

I expected him to shy away once again, but he maintained non-aggressive eye contact.

“So you’re bored? Or lost?” he gently intoned. “You don’t like pony things that are too silly, right?”

I nodded skeptically. I wasn’t about to take any suggestion he would have, and he appeared to realize this.

“So what do you want to do?” the brown stallion asked. “I know you will find anything I say, suspect.”

“Right,” I chirped. I drummed my hooves expectantly. “So why are you still here?”

He bashfully rubbed his forehooves together while formulating his response. “I—”

“Right. I know: you don’t remember,” I snapped. “Let me know when you figure it out.”

I made the mistake of looking him in the eyes. His eyes weren’t the meek ones of hurt or apologetic ponies, but instead spoke of sincerity. I wasn’t buying it.

“Do you like fighting?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean, all of a sudden?”

He ran his hoof over my bedsheets, absentmindedly trying to flatten the creases. “You don’t have to answer me. It’s just—it seems like you were far more guilty over the Iron Will scuffle your first day here…”

“You really don’t get me, do you?” I asked, aggressively pulling myself closer to him.

He quivered.

I couldn’t tell whether he was just more easily rattled than most ponies, or just a coward. I felt bad for him for a microsecond, but no longer.

“I don’t like hurting others; I don’t love violence. Do you think I really wanted to break that minotaur’s bones? Knock him unconscious?”

He looked down and away. I suppose I was grateful that he didn’t ask a dumb question.

“Put two and two together. A scuffle at a kids’ restaurant. What’s the point of that? I hated that I had to pick that fight!”

He had that dumb look on his face, so I stood up rather unimpressive maximum height and continued.

“I’m in a strange world, and I represent Rhod. If I were to back down or let the minotaur push me around, that doesn’t reflect well on my people.”

“But you didn’t want to?” he asked, meek as ever.

“Of course not.”

A heavy silence seemed to permeate the distorted atmosphere of my room. He looked like he had decided what to say next, but I was feeling lucky. “And if you were going to ask what makes this time different, I can tell you: It was an enormous relief to know I was still good at it—that I was still good at something.

I took a refreshing breath of air. It had felt good to clarify that.

“But! But… you won’t be able to do that much longer…”

“Right!” I said, clearly startling him with my confidence. I preemptively glared at him, somehow knowing his next question.

He shuffled his hooves and scratched his neck. “You can try more pony things, right. Look for your cutie mar—”

“No.” I said decisively

“How about just having fun with other foals? You like soccer, right?”

“Not interested,” I said deliberately with a playful, almost feminine, dismissiveness.

He curved his pathetic expression into something that suggested grit. “Why not? You admitted you have nothing to do! Or are you just going to not do it to spite me? That’s more childish than anything else!”

Somehow seeing him show some spine incensed me. “Do you think I’m that STUPID!? That SHALLOW!?”

My eyes snapped open as my angry rebuke echoed off the walls. He was gone.

“A dream? Of course. What else?” Still, I double-checked my surroundings to make sure nothing was out of place.

“Is reverse psychology what that loser is trying to do? Well, I’ll still show him.”

I smirked. I wasn’t about to go back to the unhappy existence of resisting everything pony. At the same time, I wasn’t about to dive into the silly and childish. And I think I knew just what to do.

I dragged my hooves along the bumpy white stone of a Canterlot sidestreet. My gait showed my disappointment and caused me to fall considerably behind my companion, who circled back regularly to check on me.

“What’s wrong?” the stout earth pony asked. “I didn’t think you’d be that disappointed.”

I sighed. “I guess I was trying to get away from the princess stuff for a little while, but—you know. Thanks anyway for coming with me, Bulwark.”

“Sure thing. Still, I’m a little surprised: I never heard that princesses had to be confirmed by the legislature!”

I stopped abruptly. “They don’t. Celestia told me it’s a silly thing the congressponies do to feel important. It has no bearing on my status. I just wish they hadn’t confiscated my ring to let everypony know I was the new alicorn.”

Bulwark seemed to be searching for some comforting words as she studied the ground. “Well, it’s not like the stuff they were talking about before was any more interesting.”

I studied the Vermillion filly, who smiled warmly when we locked eyes. She was definitely trying to make me feel better.

“I actually liked the boring stuff, though,” I admitted. “I went to the House of Ponies because it’s the least silly pony thing I could think of. I was hoping for some inspiration.”

“I think I’m generally less silly than average myself, but why is that concerning for you? I know a lot of silly ponies that I like!”

I slowly shook my head.

“It’s like I told you earlier: I’m getting younger, since my magical signature is messed up. I didn’t want to do silly, childish things because I want to feel like something of an adult still.”

I froze for a second before assuming a poker face.

Bulwark paused for a moment to contemplate. “That makes sense, I suppose. You don’t want to become childish too quickly.”

Good. It doesn’t look like she noticed my slip-up.

“Can you explain to me what exactly is happening with your age, or will I have to wait a little bit more for you to divulge those details?” She asked innocently. “The way you’re describing it, it sounds like a curse.”

Her saying it like that made it seem a bit artificial, but it was what I was comfortable with. Then again, I reasoned I could spare a few more details.

“My magical signature didn’t age because I was disconnected from Harmony.”

Bulwark let out a shrill gasp. “That’s horrible!”

I assembled my words to parry that characterization, but I decided to moderate my reaction after actually considering it. “The truth is I’m not sure it was such a bad thing. I lived my life normally for so long, never missing it. But it meant my magical signature never aged.” I looked back at her and frowned as we locked eyes. “I’m sorry, you’re the first one I’ve ever explained this to. It sounds far-fetched when I actually hear myself saying it.”

Bulwark wanted to inquire further, judging by her perky ears and general expression, but she read the mood well. “So… you want to get ice cream or something? I know a good place nearby that has just what I like. I’d like to see you try it.”

I do owe her, and that doesn’t sound too bad. But...

“Sorry, I can’t,” I murmured. “I’m going through a sort of tough time where I’m trying to sort through who I am anymore, and what I should be doing. Will I slowly change into a normal toddler, or will I wake up one morning and be changed all at once? It’s more about what I can do, actually. I can’t stop it, but how do I keep feeling like I’m me. Sorry, it’s a dumb excuse, but what I’m feeling is just too heavy for ice cream.”

Bulwark was disappointed, but then she smiled. “Thanks for confiding in me. It’s not dumb at all. About what you should be doing, I have a suggestion.”

I beamed. “Really!?”

I was then hit by my realization of illogical Equestrian logic. “Oh…”

My companion looked slightly hurt by my reaction.

I put my hoof on her barrel—since I couldn’t reach her withers, and stroked her. “No wait, it’s not you. It’s just that I've noticed that whenever I set out to do something, I am usually met with two comically-inclined dead ends before the third actually leads to a worthwhile development. Since I wasn’t allowed to use my magic ring to hide my wings, we had the ‘princess is here’ shenanigans in the audience section.”

Bulwark chuckled. “You have to admit it was kind of funny when the congressponies kept flip-flopping as they gauged your reaction.

“That part wasn’t so bad,” I admitted.

“And it was cute when the colt next to you tried to get your autograph.”

I waved a hoof dismissively—a habit of uncertain origin.

“It wasn’t all bad, but when they made it all about me, it stopped being fun. I wish they hadn’t decided to move that up on the agenda.”

Bulwark nodded. “I saw on the way in that it was already on the schedule, but I get your point.” I saw her eyes light up as she connected the dots. “Oh, so you’re saying you think my idea won’t work because it’s the second attempt?”

“Exactly,” I chirped, appreciative somepony could assure me my theories weren’t crazy.

“How about I whisper it to you. That might help.”

“Why would that—”

She smiled and shushed me. “Trust me.”

I knocked.

“Come in,” Celestia said serenely.

I poked my nose through the door and cautiously slid in. “Hi. Do you have time?”

“Of course. I’m sure you have a lot to talk about from yesterday—the attempted kidnapping, your secret protector, the motivation of the plot, the nature of your opponent—which do you want to discuss?”

“Actually, I want a job," I squeaked.

Her eyes went wide in curiosity-flavored surprise.

“Yeah, that’s right,” I said, firm, as I unglued my eyes from Celestia’s fur-like rug to make eye contact.

I could see Celestia considering a couple of possibilities behind her patient eyes, before finding one satisfactory and re-focusing her gaze.

In the short time she was absent, I had undertaken a comparison between her room and Luna’s, but I then realized I had only seen Luna’s office. This reminded me of the significance of the princess seeing the friendship students here instead of in her office.

“I see... so Squirt got you into the more expensive games?”

“What? No, this isn’t about the money. I already don’t know what to do with the bits you give me. If you’re going to make me say it, I will: I want to feel useful.”

Celestia moved closer to me and sat down. “What prompted this? I mean, you’re not a burden by any means, but I suppose—”

As she paused to formulate her response diplomatically, I had to restrain myself from just cutting to the chase and saying “I’m bored!” That sort of childishness was, fortunately, something I could still restrain.

Celestia took another three seconds, apparently skeptical of her own idea. “I guess there is some filing I could have you do…”

I couldn’t tell if she was kidding.

“Done.”

“What? No! Your time is precious. I can’t have you use leftovers from school and homework doing menial tasks for me.”

I posed, ready to counter. But my mane ruined it by falling over my eyes.

I really need to cut that at some point.

“You really need to cut that at some point,” said the Princess.

“Thanks,” I made myself murmur unenthusiastically before gathering my thoughts. “I don’t have anything else to do. It’s amazing how fast homework can go when there’s nothing to look forward to after. Look: I know I can’t keep exerting myself physically with my body how it is. There’s only so much I can compensate for.”

Celestia gestured with her horn in a manner I didn’t understand. “About that, I have a proposal: you promise not to do it again, and I spare you the stern lecture about attempting to foil your own foalnapping.”

“Done.”

I could have argued that Star could have been behind me. After all, it was pretty clever that the real Windy Skies had been with someone who had assumed my form, but I knew a good deal when I had one.

“While we’re on the subject of mischief, did you enjoy your day playing hooky?”

It hit me like a low-hanging branch. “Ponyfeathers! I forgot all about school. How could I do that?”

Celestia turned on a disarming smile. “You’re fine. I notified the school. Though I have to admit: you’re the first to ditch school to watch the House of Ponies debate live.”

“Can you appreciate that I’m bored now?” I coyly intoned.

Princess Celestia cocked her head to the side, apparently intrigued. “Would you be willing to help the other friendship students?”

My distaste must have been visible.

She backtracked.

“You don’t have to, but it could help you learn something about yourself. You never know.”

“Isn’t that sort of what I already did with the Cutie Mark Crusaders?” I countered, trying to refuse indirectly.

She pounced. “Did it work?”

“Uh...ummm… the first two didn’t really—but that’s beside the point! Aren’t you just passing off your job on me?”

“You weren’t opposed to me doing that earlier with the filing.”

I pouted. Was she always this good, or am I losing my edge?

“We both know I’m not excited by the concept. I’m actually looking for something that’s not overly silly or overly… pony.”

For a short, tense moment, I was praying she wouldn’t ask me to elaborate.

“Alice, in some ways I’m at as much of a loss as you are. You already admitted that physical tasks aren’t doable anymore. A creative task probably wouldn’t be to your liking either.”

“Yeah, I do enough imagination-ing at school. How about something cerebral? ” I proposed. “Not trying to sound arrogant or anything…”

Celestia took a moment to weigh her words before responding. “Alice, you’re smart enough, but you’re not going to design a bridge, manage a supply chain, or codify government regulations better than the ponies I have doing those things right now.”

I remained silent—a tacit admission that she was right.

“That only leaves the social…” she concluded. “Incidentally, we’ve gone through the four categories of camp activities.”

She was so diplomatic that it must have rubbed off on me, as I carefully considered how to rebuff her politely.

“For the sake of argument, let’s say I’m open to the idea. What makes me more qualified to coach friendship students than design a bridge? Other than what’s on my head and back!”

Celestia paused to think, so I took my turn to pounce. “I mean, I can’t follow Squirt and Bulwark everywhere, but it just occurred to me that if I get a few more ponies like that, I can split my time between them, so I wouldn’t need something new “

“So your proposal is… to make more friends?”

I scowled. “Well, I—uh….”

Really set myself up for that one.

I heard a welcome knock on the door.

“Come in,” Celestia said, unsurprised when Star Chart came with a booklet in her mouth.

She dropped it in front of me. “Here are your activity choices, Alice,” she said with playful cheer.

“All right, let’s see how much I’m going to regret this…”

Celestia made soft eye contact. “Think about it, okay?”

“Okay…” I said, sedated. Shaking it off, I turned my attention to my activity list. “Not bad. Not too bad I guess. I can do that. Hey, they chose something I actually like—what are the odds?” I froze. “Okay, that one’s ridiculous! I told them they could pick anything, but I’m pretty sure I can’t do that”

Celestia had a mischievous look on her face. “You can technically change your mind still. It hasn’t been signed off on yet…” a regal seal crept up over the booklet. “But now it has!”

I rolled my eyes. But a more pressing matter came to the forefront of my mind. “That’s right! Cake Slice wanted to piggyback on my activities. I gotta go!”

I put the booklet in my mouth and galloped off, noting that Star had disappeared at some point.

Good thing that they gave me two green activities. I’m pretty sure Cake Slice can’t copy me in one of them.

I flailed my front-hooves, mid-leap, as I reached for the fleeing tail so tantalizingly within reach. Making one last swipe, I managed to pull a couple of hairs. The colt let out a yelp from my sudden yank and slowed enough for me to get a second, indisputable, hoof on victory.

I registered some cheers. My lungs were begging for mercy, to such an extent that it overshadowed my triumph. In an abstract sense, my endurance was slightly better for being an alicorn, but considering I had to do more with less muscle mass, it was basically a wash.

“She did it!”

“Three cheers for River!”

“We won! We actually won!”

I smiled despite struggling to stay on my hooves. My mind was locked in chasing the thrill of the moment. As my focus unraveled I became conscious of the smell of grass.

Daybreak turned to face me and nodded in a stoic, manly way, admitting I had caught and bested him at tag.

Kind of strange he can still look so tough with those warm colors. I suppose that’s not abnormal; it’s like what makes those Junior Royal Guard stallions look so tough

“Yeah, it’s so much funner when Annuity’s not cheating!” Sunny Style chirped.

I looked around at my vanquished foes. Despite being a mixture of Annuity’s posse and nicer ponies, they were bunched together in the aftermath for some reason. My view of them was then obscured as my own team surrounded me in a blanket of multicolored fur. I half-expected them to pick me up and carry me, which would have been a bizarre experience.

Bear hugs would have been one thing, but I felt a static charge build in my fur as some of the foals rubbed my fur for some reason. Ponies tended to casually touch each other more than humans, but my classmates took every opportunity to feel “royalty.”

Fizzle whistled. “All right, class, back inside.”

Audible groans of protest filled the air as the crowd slowly filed back into the classroom. I sighed in relief as the heat of close proximity dissipated. My head hung low from exhaustion and I intentionally dragged my hooves to get some time for myself. However, it was not to be.

I looked up at the sight of hooves. My satisfied smile dropped before I could even look up. “What do you want, Annuity?”

She looked surprisingly meek. “D—did Princess Celestia say anything else about me?”

At first, I missed the point, given Annuity’s general haughtiness. Then I remembered the hoofball game we saw together.

“No.” I taunted her with a measured laconic dismissal, seasoned with knowing confidence. I enjoyed watching her face stretch and wrinkle as she grew flustered.

“What do you mean, ‘no? Are you saying you won’t tell me!? You think that because she deputized or princestized you that I am at your whim!” Apparently, she had defaulted back to irritable. “I know how you think of me! You think you can reform me like some kind of villain as Princess Twilight does!?”

“Yes.”

It took a lot of effort not to burst out laughing at the face she made in response to that.

“Oh, so it’s that you’re worried about,” I said after an awkward pause, perhaps taking pity on her.

She looked crestfallen all of a sudden. ”I know you hate me and all, but”—I saw Fizzle impatiently goad us inside.

“I don’t hate you,” I said turning my back on her as I hopped inside the little red schoolhouse.

She let out a confused gasp.

“In fact, I don’t think about you much at all.”

I knew I couldn’t look back without tainting my cool aura, but I would have loved to see what face she made in response to that.

As I settled in, Fizzle wasted no time in starting the Prench lesson. In a typical fashion, she went around the room quizzing us on verb conjugation.

“Je ___”

“Prends.”

“Vous ___”

“Prenez.”

“Elle ___”

“Prend,” I answered. I did have to wonder what the point was of practicing the singular conjugations orally when they all shared the same pronunciation. But then again, I wasn’t the teacher.

Prench was a bit boring, but my impatience was tempered by the realization that math wasn’t much to look forward to either.

I don’t understand. Learning Equish—or Lucens, rather—was so easy! Fifteen minutes a day and we were all fluent. Two hours a week of Prench and we’re still doing baby stuff! Did we ever even need to learn to conjugate verbs? It was so easy then!

“Vous ____”

“Prendrez?” said Pink Diamond.

“No, Pink. Prendre is an irregular -re verb. Although, what you said is actually the future tense. We haven’t learned that yet.”

Annuity was snickering.

I shot her a look.

She clamped her maw, and her ears drooped.

There are perks to this alicorn thing after all!

The final bell rang, and I stood up at my desk and stretched like a cat. For a blissful moment, I thought I was done for the day.

The gaggle of smiling foals encircling my desk begged to differ.

I sighed. Why did I have to do this?

A ripple of malaise flowed through me.

No, that’s wrong. That’s what I’ve been doing wrong. I’m not going to complain about everything anymore!

I took another gander at my procession, and a different knot of emotion snared me. I couldn’t exactly expect to suddenly like this princess charade.

“Okay, Sunny Style. What would you like advice with?”

I can at least listen.

She giggled. “Oh, I don’t want advice. I just wanted to ask if I could cut your mane. It’s getting kind of gnarly, and I thought I could pretty it up.”

I did my best not to react negatively, but my real feelings must have shone through.

She batted her eyelashes pleadingly.

“Sure.” I may have needed to justify it after the fact, but I wasn’t too unhappy with the outcome. If she could save me a trip to the castle beautician, it would be for the best.

She clapped her hooves and scurried away happily.

Well that’s one.

“River?” a couple of foals said at once.

“Oh, right. Umm… I choose you.”

“About time you pick me!” Gilded Acres said haughtily. “I don’t know how you go about picking ponies!”

The crowd murmured their agreement.

I thought about defending myself—after all, I had been systematic to give each pony their chance. I thought better of saying so.

“So do you want to take your turn, or are you just going to complain?” I asked in my best imitation of Celestia. Somehow I couldn’t manage to soften scolding words as she could.

She timidly looked at the cubbies after being called out. She was silent just long enough to make me feel a little bad and start to wonder if I should apologize, but she had pride.

“I wouldn’t ask you for just anything since you probably don’t like me so much. But you would know something about this,” she said with a full mouth as she relayed me a stack of papers. I thought I recognized it.

“Not this again… “You missed the boat if you wanted to piggyback and—this… isn’t for camp,” I said, voice trailing off as I realized my error. I waited for GIlded to say something indignant, but she allowed me just to read. “These are sales projections?”

“Some records from my family business,” Gilded corrected. “My parents let me manage the supply chain for some small family farms. It went well at first, but production is down. My allowance depends on it, but I’m kinda stumped.”

My first reaction was that this was easily the strangest request I had gotten as a pseudo-princess. I wanted to question her belief that I could actually help, but—

Wait a minute! Wasn’t I just asking for a job? This may be the best chance. After all, there’s nothing wacky about it.

“I mean if you don’t want to do it, I wouldn’t expect you to be abl—”

“I’ll do it,” I announced, disarming the skeptical filly with a warm smile.

She habitually combed her poofy gold mane. “Well, start with the top page, I suppose.”
Without further adieu, I picked up the first page. It was an executive summary of the overall numbers of the operation. The numbers were rather impressive, compared to my allowance at least. Then I realized the operation was a net negative. Curious, I turned the pages for something I could understand. I didn’t understand the mathematical terms used for evaluation purposes, but I honed in on what I did understand and flipped back and forth between pages.

On the periphery of my awareness, I registered my fan club beginning to disperse.

Near the end I noticed there were more words and fewer numbers, so I invested extra time in that section. Once finished, I turned my attention back to Gilded, who was shuffling impatiently.

“I think I may see something.”

“About time…” she murmured.

I wasn’t that long, was I?

I stared blankly through Gilded; it was kind of funny that she was framed by the leaves painted on the wall, which were a similar color to her fur. I realized I was stalling somewhat with this distraction, and when I realized as much, I pushed past my doubts and cleared my throat.

“You’re done?” Gilded asked, impatient.

“Yeah, from what I can see, tomato production is down in the Western Outskirts, while there’s been a lot of crop destruction in the areas near Hemville.”

My petitioner scowled. “It took you that long to point out something obvious? This type of thing is what my cutie mark’s for.”

A few of Annuity’s group had stayed behind and had a cheap laugh at my expense.

“I’m not done,” I assured her, defensive. “I think the trick is to manage the supply chain so that the Hemville produce is shipped more frequently. You may not be able to increase your inventory, but you can charge a premium for freshness.”

Gilded nodded, but not necessarily in encouragement.

“Oh, and in the west, cabbage and corn production are doing great. So if you can convince those growers to shift their fields away from tomatoes, you’ll do much better.”

The green earth filly regarded me kindly—more than I had ever seen from her. “Those are good ideas. Better than I thought you’d do. I came up with the same thing, but it’s no good. Hemville doesn’t like the frequent traffic of our operation, so we can’t do more than once a week. As for the other, we can’t exactly tell ponies what to plant.”

I think I’m getting closer. I thought. Then again, she’s probably looked at this too.

“Umm… this might be obvious, and you could be testing me, but don’t you have remedies written into your agreements?”

I heard some soft cheers.

“You mean those documents in the back?” Gilded asked, carefully weighing her words.

“Exactly!” I chirped, cloaking my uncertainty with enthusiasm. I flipped the pages. “This agreement stipulates that Hemville’s supply runs will be established with minimal inconvenience, using an impartial party using a “reasonable grower” standard. I can only guess what that means, but they should let your carts through maybe every other day instead. There’s also some discussion of what you can do to make it less intrusive on the small town.”

Gilded was in disbelief. “I didn’t understand any of that boring stuff!”

Enjoying her reaction, I continued my attack. “For which crops to plant your options are a bit more limited. You can call a mediator to make your agreement work better for the both of you, or you can even submit it for binding arbitration. I don’t think that will be necessary, though. There are micromanagement incentives. Sort of like you tell them what to plant for an extra cut of the profits.

“I can’t pay that rate for entire farms’ production!” Gilded protested.

“I don’t think you have to,” I explained patiently. “You see, if they really are better off prioritizing certain crops, they’ll earn more, too. You don’t have to force them if it will help them too.”

Gilded seemed to have a momentary fit, but her expression slowly brightened the more she thought about it. “I will have to consider it. Thank you.”

She cleared her throat and galloped off. I anticipated unwarranted applause from my supporters, but they simply looked perplexed. Enjoying the quietude this reaction offered, I trotted outside to meet with Star.

We took the usual route back to the Castle, passing the quaint general store, the pet store, and a tailor of some renown. It all began to blend together at some point. I might have even started to hum an improvised tune, but I clamped my jaw shut in an instant, for fear some passerby might join in. The last thing I needed was for my own good mood to snowball into a group performance.

“Hmm… I wonder why Bulwark turned me down. It was her idea…”

“Oh?” Star intoned.

“She was the one who invited me for ice cream on Friday, but when I offered to go on the weekend, she blushed and changed the subject.”

“Ah, the mysteries of a mare’s heart!” Star taunted.

I skidded to a halt, barely avoiding a collision with a wooden post that supported a cabbage seller’s shade. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She playfully whipped me with her tail. “If you don’t remember, I’m sure Rarity would be happy to give you a refresher. And now that you’re Canterlot’s most eligible little bachelorette, there are tons more to teach you.”

I made a sour face at her half-heartedly. I thought I had a comeback ready, but I drew a blank.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” Star observed, tactfully changing the subject.

“Yeah! I don’t know what it is, but I’m fine. Maybe I’ve gotten used to the princess treatment. Or maybe—I’m not really a child or anything, but certain things aren’t as scary as I thought!”

Star studied my eyes for clues; even I didn’t understand the thought process churning behind them. Just before it became awkward, Star pulled her gaze away and pretended to study the commemorative mural on the wall of the community center.

“What do you mean? You don’t really mean you’re feeling fear?” Star asked warmly.

“I guess I realized that I can try things. If I really hate something I can always back out. Like, I helped Gilded Acres out today, and it was kinda fun. Now that I think about it, if Squirt had asked me early on to play games with him, I probably would have said no. But hanging out with him eased me into the idea.” I paused for a moment of consternation. “Although, I can’t exactly say yes to everything. My time is suddenly a valuable commodity, so I guess it could hurt to be too open-minded.”

Star smiled.

“You know something?” I demanded.

“No, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

I sighed and looked up at the expansive wide sky. What was once an alien view was now inviting. Maybe the hospitality of this world had finally won me over. Or perhaps the pegasus part of me simply yearned for flight.

I wonder how they’re doing at home. Perhaps Diane was thinking like me when she chose to live amongst those bears—the Ayabna.

“Was Rhod ever in any danger?” I asked aloud.

“Pardon?” Star asked, perplexed.

“Nothing big,” I said softly. “It wasn’t my choice, but I felt I had left Rhod behind in a time of need. And then did abandon her, for abandoning me—for abandoning what I believed in. But it’s like I’ve said, change doesn’t have to mean taking a sledgehammer to the status quo.”

“Well said,” Star lauded, with genuine pride.

Yes, Rhod may not need to be saved by me, after all.

Author's Note

I have my doubts about this chapter, but I can only hope I did okay.

Chapter 42

The school day felt like a distraction. It was something to get through to arrive at the true mission. Truly, it was as if I had found a higher calling. Everything in me had resisted being dragged into a sappy friendship quest. However, the more I turned it over in my head the less I hated it.

It’s a responsibility. I didn’t realize how much I had missed those. Being protected so long, not being able to initiate events, having a daily tax on my time.

A lot of my responsibilities had been outsourced. Being a foal sucked, but rather than ruminating on that, I had turned my energy towards figuring a way to get out the door of the schoolhouse as soon as possible. Little Pinion was an easy choice. He was so obvious about his crush on me that he normally got shy and left halfway through making a request. So when I was in a hurry to adjourn my court, he was an easy choice.

That’s one down.

Now I needed to just find the lesser evil among the sea of clamoring hooves. Amongst them, I saw one capped with a silver fetlock that seemed out of place. For a moment I was interested in why I was seeing it for only the second time while on the job; then, I remembered that hoof’s owner was blackmailing me.

“Oh, right, Pestle. Your turn.”

This was met with the usual groans of disappointment from those not selected. While the princess treatment had gotten somewhat less overwhelming, by no means had an interest in me and my “services” faded.

Over protests, I once more granted the filly alchemist a private discussion.

Upon arriving at the back of the schoolhouse, I waited for her to take charge. I wondered what it could be—a further deduction of my true nature? A scheme to use me to make a few bits?

For some reason, I became more at ease as the silence continued. Even though she did have all the power. However, she looked… nervous.

“It kinda defeats the purpose of privacy if you’re still afraid of telling me,” I chided, impatience outweighing my lack of confidence.

“All right, all right, what I want—well. I don’t want anything big. I’m just… well, would you be my friend?

I had to struggle not to laugh or show exasperation. Why was it always friendship?

“Why me? I’m a non-Equestrian—from a different dimension even. You don’t know who I am, or even if I’m someone you would like.”

“Cool.” she said, simply.

That threw me off guard.

“You… huh?” I finally managed.

“You're really cool. I mean, most of the ponies in the school are a little too… should I say—uninspired? They just go along with the whole routine without giving thought to what they actually want.”

I winced. That was me for most of my time here!

“Yeah, I can see what you mean,” I said softly, hoping she wouldn’t read me. “What’s your point?”

She lifted a hoof to gesture. Then she put it down to gather her thoughts for a short while. She tapped the ground a few times as if counting. “Well, you’re more interesting than anypony here. I guess I just picked you. You know, I never really wanted too many friends up until now, but upon analyzing the data, Thaumaturgical has been a net positive for me. So I guess I want more of that.”

I combed my mane out of my eyes. She had just told me her friendship was going to be transactional. I might have pressed the issue, but I already had eleven friendship problems to solve—correction of her approach could wait—hopefully forever.

“That’s fine,” I said, tersely and somewhat anticlimactic. “So what friend things do you want to do? You don’t strike me as the type to drag me to the salon.”

She shook her head. “I’m more feminine than I look, but that’s not much. Besides, I wouldn’t do that to a former male. In fact, that part’s a bonus for me: I won’t have to worry about you dragging me to the salon. So male friends are a bonus. I can work on finding filly friends later.”

I shrugged. “If that works for you. I will say, ponies really suck at blackmailing, if that’s really all you can come up with.”

“What did you expect me to demand?” she asked, in an almost sardonic monotone.

“I don’t know… get me to throw Annuity in the dungeon maybe?”

Pestle smiled. “No need, I’m enjoying things as they are right now,” she said cryptically.

Must be referencing how my status has humbled the spoiled little rich filly.

“So what now?” I asked, somewhat lamely.

“I'm pretty much okay with whatever you can come up with. I kinda stopped planning at this part. Most days I’m at my apprenticeship, but I’ll let you know what days work for me to get together.”

I was tempted to snark at her already throwing obstacles in the way of our relationship, but I thought of something better to say: “Yeah, I actually have this… project.”

“Is it part of your remedial lessons?”

“No.” I froze. The indignity let me re-focus, but I was still unable to sort out the assortment of bad emotions, and just stomped a hoof. “How did you know about that?”

Without overtly acknowledging my distress, the silver filly seemed to hit a diplomatic note unintentionally. She explained how Annuity had tried to spread it around a bit, but somehow everypony knew already.

“Whatever.” I declared, my tone betraying my attempted show of indifference. “Well, I was going to say it’s a mission from the princess, but that would make it sound far more exciting and important than it really is. Basically, she off-loaded some work on me, and now I sorta have to be a peer mentor.” I paused to ensure I wouldn’t be too candid. “Do you want to help? I mean, it is basically, work. And besides, Celestia hasn’t yet gotten to the part of my “friendship lessons” that explains how roping new friends into helping with chores is a good way to keep friends.”

“I don’t mind work,” she said dismissively. Her expression suggested she understood where I was coming from, perhaps including my trace embarrassment concerning the nature of the task. “Fun stuff for me is work to others,” she added to address the momentary silence.

I shrugged in defeat. “I’ll bring my notes tomorrow, then.”

She smiled. “I’ll let you off early this time, then. I’ve been told that I’m best in small doses.”

My empathy flared up, and I breathed in to reassure her.

“Okay, I’ll try and write down some of my own thoughts tonight, then. Uhh… have a good rest of your day.”

“Bye,” she said absentmindedly.

Guilt began creeping up on me as I meandered towards the front of the school to meet-up with Star.

Am I selfish for thinking that unless she’s Key #12, she shouldn’t get to be Friendship Problem #12?

Despite needing an excuse earlier, diving into Celestia’s notes was exactly what I eventually wound up doing. I always seemed to forget that any venture outside of my own spartan quarters was an invitation for somepony to try and corral a share of my precious spare time. Now that I had a “job” that would at least take up a lot of the time the shortened pony school day gave me, I had to be miserly—except if you’re one of the twelve chosen ones.

Eleven. Actually—no, maybe even ten if I manage to award myself a key! However, that would work...

Still, I was motivated, and I found the focus to power through my homework. The final part of the Xel Ning saga hadn’t been reassuring, looking at it from my standpoint. Basically, she’s now the beloved minotaur queen whose influence cast a benevolent guiding on a culture that was poorly developed at the time. At first, I was stunned that Jill wasn’t bothered, or offended, by this depiction, but there was a part shortly before that made her laugh unexpectedly. Eventually, I pinpointed a rather clever jab at the folly of the ponies in prioritizing cultural development only to get sacked every other century and start from scratch.

Taking a break from the friendship notes, I leaned over the last, unanswered section of reading comprehension and idly swatted at my cheek with my left wing.

This writer isn’t your superficial pony-centrist…

Given Celestia’s criticism of the story’s simplicity and occasional inaccuracy, I had erroneously thought she valued it little. Yet, there was something there—enough for it to be on the curriculum, at any rate.

[Xel Ning—no, Priscilla. Who is she? The name Priscilla is the last word of the book—and was used in Fizzle’s question.

Who is Priscilla?

I smirked. Xel Har Kai Nhing.

I closed the book.

Done! 10/10. A shame Fizzle never rewards sarcasm… Squirt’s grades would certainly benefit.

There had to be more there. I didn’t want to reread the whole thing, but this story could even be partial satire. I had come across some unremarkable pony authors that wrote the way this one did, but those seemed to have an aura of obliviousness—this one didn’t.

“I should hate this book,” I spoke aloud. After all, it looked like a feel-good tale of an unsuspecting being afforded the royal treatment by virtue of captivating a king. Putting aside my own sentiment that the whole royal thing was highly overrated, what did Gildeus see in her? Was she really so cultured before arriving in Equestria that she had a universal charm that translated? Was her, being emotionally alone and struggling in a new setting appealing? Just looks?

I sighed. I supposed I could ask Celestia for her firsthand experience, but that seemed like cheating to me. The question given seemed to imply that “Priscilla” had fully accepted her situation and was an ordinary minotaur—aside from being a queen. As far as insight went, were her “revolutionary” ideas truly her own? They could be a product of her culture. Or minotaur politics might just have been so stupid an outsider could make obvious suggestions. Is she worth glorifying?

This is a mess. How am I supposed to get a clear answer? I shook my head, deciding to give it one more shot tomorrow before accepting the aggravating truth that this question was just testing our effort and creativity.

I rolled out the first sheet of parchment in front of me and started reading.

From what I could gather from the notes, Monocle was a good-natured filly. Others like her, but she puts up walls. Early on, her banker parents arranged all of her play dates. Even when she branched out on her own, she doubted if the ponies she played with really liked her or if their parents just wanted to curry favor.

My, Celestia has been busy. Here I was thinking that she just rambled on about friendship being amazing and encouraged her charges to go out there and socialize.

A half-formed thought flashed through the fringes of my consciousness. While I was still a long way away, I was already seeing possibilities. That was more than I could say for New Moon’s friendship problem.

Monocle might take a week; after that, I can move onto New Moon.

I grabbed the next sheet: Perfect Double. It took me a second to remember who she was. How I reminded myself was that she had colors like Twilight’s brother.

I chuckled. For a second I thought Celestia had given me the original document, but no, that silly scribe had actually reproduced all of the scribbles and cross-outs. I actually had to flip the page over to get any useful information.

Perfect Double prided herself on living on the fringes. Celestia speculated some sort of trauma, but she couldn’t prove it. The unicorn filly had sold herself on the idea that being invisible was cool. She envied those “living in the light,” but adhered to her unassuming life with strange devotion. She wasn’t cold to other ponies, and would even engage them, but she wouldn’t think anything of it or follow-up.

I curled my mane between my forehooves. I vowed to no longer treat this as anything other than a massive ordeal. This one seemed like it would take me weeks. I scrutinized my instinct to put her aside in favor of easier keys, but it did make sense to gain some experience before taking on the harder ones.

Slightly discouraged, I gathered my resolve and pushed forward.

Next, I skimmed Pink Diamond’s file. I feel like I had a head-start, but she had the potential to be very challenging. In any event, I had somehow already decided to save her for last.

I froze mid-motion and dropped the papers I was holding. The nature of my problem appeared to unravel in front of my eyes. Pink Diamond might take two weeks, perfect double four, and Blue Horizon a few more…

Is this even possible? I don’t know how much time I have.

I craved certainty, but I already knew what it amounted to: I couldn’t be sure, so I could only take the most prudent, if unsavory, course of action.

I hopped off my head and reassembled Celestia’s notes as if seeing something put back together would be encouraging. It was not.

“Ponyfeathers… I’m really going to have to work on all of their cases simultaneously.”

In a quaint, colorful town, Diane lazily flew at the tail-end of their party. The enthusiastic filly, House, was lacking wings this time around. She was wearing an open vest that would be rather immodest were she human. With disorienting speed, she flitted between each passerby, fishing for any potential lead that would further their quest.

She seems really into this. Does she not know this is a dream?

“So Diane, you were saying you’re not actually a flying cat?”

“Aye!”

“You were an alicorn one time and a cat alicorn another time, and now you’re a flying cat again...” she mused. So what are you…”

That could be trouble. Is it because Aron and that other filly aren’t here? I want her thinking I’m a pony.

“Oh, hey, there’s a ramen stand. You up for some lunch, Diane?” House asked, changing the subject with her usual energy.

“Aye!”

House dug out some coins from non-existent pockets, not questioning the non-logic for a second. “Why do you keep saying that, by the way?”

Diane furrowed her brow. “Huh… I don’t know. It just seems right for some reason.” She silently chided herself and refocused. “So, House, you’re trying to make your dad happy?”

“Yeah, I guess. But he doesn’t believe us. Even when Crafty told him… so we have to wait.”

It was tempting to press further. Valuable intel dangled right in front of her, like a nice juicy big fish. But any inadvertent hint at her identity could prove fatal.

“Well, I hope your wait pays off,” Diane said warmly. “Are you going to have to wait a long time? I mean, I hope you can make him proud soon.”

The filly scowled. “Yeah, but the probe is super slow, so it’ll be a while.”

Diane smiled. Good thing she’s not exactly the cautious type.

The stand’s proprietor handed House a bowl of Ramen that was as large as she was.

“Never had ramen, but looks yummy!” she chirped.

A mysterious wailing cut through the dream, House vanished, and the bowl of ramen smashed on the ground, disintegrating into nothing. The world around her began to fade away, becoming see-through here and cloudy there until finally Diane was ejected from the dreamscape.

Quarrel put a reassuring hand on Diane’s shoulder. He tended to do that, but it was just welcome enough that she never objected.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, all I did was fly behind that House filly for a couple of hours. She did all the fighting.”

She smiled.

“I think I got something!”

Her momentary excitement faded in an instant. “And I screwed it up. She said it will be a while, but who knows how she views time…”

Quarrel patted her on the back. “Enough with the apologies! You did well enough. We all look after each other and I looked after you!” He struck a pose after a moment awkwardly flying up a few inches. “Based on the data I received from her magics, I can tell that this is a very young pony. The dreamscape itself alters depending on the dreamer’s perception of time. It’s sort of like twins on a train going to different spaceships type of deal. You might say it’s relatively perplexing!”

He waved his hands in front of her.

“Nothing?”

“Nope,” Diane answered simply.

“Normally when I make jokes I don’t get, they land to some extent. You Rhods must stink at popular culture...”

“You had a point?” Diane asked, exasperated.

“We have some time. A long wait for her gives us several weeks at least.”

Diane stretched and finally extricated herself from the assisted dream device that wrapped around her like a gnarled root. “So, we have time. But what do we actually do?”

Quarrel scratched his chin. Abruptly a jolt of energy traveled upward through his body, and he whipped out a small tissue box and reached inside of it.

He was disappointed.

“Well, we’re at zero suggestions now, so hey, that’s three more than yesterday!”

Author's Note

So, I'm experimenting with shorter chapters. Honestly, I'm expecting half :yay: update and half "nothing happened..." :ajbemused:

One thing this experiment has done is expose my weakness when it comes to continuing to write when I have something in the hopper with my editors. If anyone has advice in that regard, let me know. Seems like a mental block of sorts.

Chapter 43 Author's Note

I feel like apologizing (as usual) in advance for maybe going overboard with Mix-up's accent. You're not your character :scootangel:

Chapter 43

Across from Celestia’s bed lay an antique table. It had a texture that piqued the seventh sense and alerted one to its true age. Atop it, stood a pair of lamps. One was merely an imitation—a cheap facade trying in vain to live up the prestige of its expensive counterpartpedestal. Beside it, a gnarled black lamp sat rather conspicuously, as if unhappy with its companion. Together they formed a halfhearted collection of sorts.

The structure of the ponies—it is a sort of benign turpitude. The diarchy as it functions not so much as a police state would, but as a sort of pervasive, perverse conscience. In other words, it is not through a show of force, so much as it is through a moral superstructure. The singing and dancing and so on fosters a sort of unity that gives with one hand, but extracts a sort of—shall we say an offering with the other. While superficially, an offering of one’s praise and adoration is a token gesture, it is through such it is propagated. Even when substantial tethers to reality itself are lacking. Instead, an alternative reality not merely supplants it but also, shall we say, forms a parasitic doppelganger.

The lamp was motionless.

I was drained. Pink Diamond had dragged me across half of Canterlot after I had tried to get to know her any better. It was as if she just saw it as a great opportunity to monopolize a filly “not-princess.”

I stopped for no particular reason in the castle hallway and stared into the eyes of a painted stallion. He and a mare stood in front of an unassuming barn, together, dominating the foreground. Like most of the art in the castle, it was a replica, but it had to be famous for me to see it in more than one place. I felt like a dolt staring at the stallion’s chin while I collected my thoughts. I was almost procrastinating even when it came to thinking.

Does she even know what her own friendship problem is? Would it even be very effective for Celestia to verbalize it as a diagnosis?

I did have something concrete at least: she felt bad that she didn’t spend enough time with her friends. On the surface, that might have seemed simple enough, but from what I could see, she did nothing but that!

I lowered my gaze. That pony really might believe she doesn’t bring enough energy to her interactions. That’s ironic…

Again: it was something. But from how much it took out of me, it was hardly a fair trade. Fortunately, I was stubborn and was able to power through Blue Horizon’s turn with me as well. Great effort had gone into making my schedule, and I wasn’t about to let it be defeated on day one.

My tired muscles had found their second wind and started carrying me towards my dreaded destination. Truthfully Blue Horizon had gone worse than Pink Diamond had. The normally competitive unicorn filly was hardly trying! She agreed readily with whatever I would say and hardly hazarded a single idea of her own.

Did I expect to be able to get through to them just with words? Maybe Lua would do a better job with her? Or would that be cheating? If she gives Lua the item instead of River, will the magic not work? I’d better not find out...

I reluctantly knocked on New Moon’s door. I was already angry at myself for scheduling her at the tail end.

The door, lightly decorated with pink stickers, flung open. It cleared me by about an inch to reveal my favorite (only) batpony acquaintance.

“Hiya, River. Glad you made it! What are we doing this time?”

“Yeah, Celestia gave me a job to do, and I guess I’m here to do it!” I tried my best to match her enthusiasm. I wasn’t getting close, but I at least owed her something of an effort. “So let’s not delay. How do you understand your friendship problem?”

She moved out of the way, as if to remind me that we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the hallway. I sheepishly trotted to her bed and paused momentarily to fix a wrinkled corner of the bedsheet. It had some sort of modernist floral design with plenty of triangles. I didn’t really understand it. Finally “ready,” I faced New Moon again and sat.

I waited a moment for her delayed answer to my innocuous question. Then, I realized that if I did this wrong I might not get a single word in by bedtime!

“In just a few words—” I cut in, just as she inhaled to finally respond. “I know what Celestia thinks your problem is, but I’d like to hear your own impression.”

New Moon smiled. “Well, if it’s even a problem, I’d say that it’s too much of a good thing!”

“What—”

“I’m a socialite!” She dramatically tossed her bangs to the side. “I love the spotlight. I’ve gotta have the gossip. I need to knock hooves with the elites and the up-and-comers alike.”

“So do you think you do this too much? Do you want to change something? Do you… want to do it better?”

I was so relieved to be afforded the time to ask another question that I may have immediately sabotaged my effort. Helping her to be a better “socialite” just screamed “dead-end.”

“I don’t… really know.” She looked down and away at her tail and seemed to panic. She then grabbed a brush from a nearby drawer and attacked a tangle I couldn’t quite see. “A filly’s gotta be social, you know? Just like how I can’t let my tail get all gnarly.”

“Do you like being so outgoing?” I asked, a bit bluntly, while also wondering if my own tail needed more maintenance than I’d given it.

“Of course! It may not be my cutie mark… yet, but I’m pretty good at it if I do say so myself.”

I confirmed for myself that surprising detail, which had only come to my attention thanks to Celestia’s notes: she— along with Perfect Double and Noble Truth—was a blank flank. Theoretically this should have given me some sort of advantage, like additional credibility, but there was nothing I could latch onto.

“So, do you think you can help me do it better?” she asked, invading what little distance was between us.

“Well... maybe.”

The suddenness of the question had caught me off guard. She was probably barking up the wrong tree. I knew she wasn’t bad as a conversationalist. Celestia knew too, but I couldn’t just tell her outright and expect to be effective.

Think. She couldn’t be this wrong about her problem. Surely, Celestia told her something. Think…

A lightbulb went off in my head. It was a bit of a strange idiom in my native Rhodish, since I had yet to meet anyone who could tell me what in the blazes a “lightbulb” was.

“New Moon, when we first got together, you said Celestia wanted you to practice with groups of friends. Why do you think that is?”

I got slightly miffed at my own tone. I was starting to sound like Ms. Fizzle at her worst.

“I’m glad you remember that!” she said, beaming. “That was when I first met you! Cake Slice was there, and Pink Diamond was there...” Suddenly her enthusiasm tapered off. “Why is that… Princess Celestia hasn’t really told me.”

Yes! Progress!

“You can guess,” I goaded her. “There are no wrong answers here.”

Now I’m sounding like Ms. Fizzle at her “best”...

“Maybe.... it’s probably because I don’t talk to all the ponies in a group the same. I have to make sure to talk to and about everypony, so nopony feels left out.”

It was close—somewhat.

I reached to habitually comb my bangs, forgetting that Sunny Style had done my mane earlier that day. While short, there was just enough of a borderline girly flair to lead me to doubt my own sanity as to whether it was really there or not.

“So how do you want to practice?” I asked, overconfident.

She perked up even more. “Well, I have been brainstorming a lot! I have exciting ideas, boring ideas, glamorous ideas, a few quiet ideas and more! What to do first? Oh, I know: I can show you what I’ve been doing for practice!”

It seemed like a modest enough suggestion. Little did I know I would scarcely get a complete sentence in for the next hour.

She opened a drawer and retrieved a cheaply-bound book. It fell open, revealing a taped collage of pictures showing various foals. Aside from her, I recognized Cake Slice, Bulwark and the zebra filly I had met before.

She started pointing all over. “This is Pastry Peach and True North. They’re my besties right now! I have been talking to Chrysanthemum more too! Bulwark is nice, but she does her own thing most of the time.” She took an innocuous, quick breath, which, in hindsight, was a rare chance to interrupt. “Anyway, North likes Clear Looker, but he likes Chrysanthemum, who is probably a bit too young for love. Although Chrysanthemum said one time that she likes a colt who could—”

This would take a while...

Still, the lamp remained, neglected by its supposed owner.

For the changeling shapeshifters, it is a matter of identity. Not so much as an internal sense of self, part of a hive, and so on, and so on, but immutable essence beyond principle and temperament. It is as such that many ask themselves that if I am shaped by my experience, my masquerade and my very form, what is it that is the constant? The soul, as we say, is not so much as a palpable manifestation, but an abstruse construction. Regardless of its structure, the myth itself provides sustenance. That we are all more than the sum of our parts. This can extend to consciousness and so on—

Could anypony pity a lamp? All expression was void.

I sat across from my current charge: Noble Truth. Ostensibly, she was one of the least happy ponies I had ever come across, but this was merely judging on appearances. Her teal and pink mane had a disorderly way of framing her face. Yet, from my own manecare experience, I knew it couldn’t be the product of lack of maintenance. Dark colors, as was the case of her shade of purple fur, tended to stand out; she was an exception.

I levitated my small milk carton and swirled its contents for my fleeting amusement. While the guards surrounding us in the cafeteria were at least as jolly as usual, our table stood as an island of stress and anguish.

“So what—oh”

She lifted her orange juice for a big gulp just as I attempted to restart the conversation.

Celestia had warned me this earth pony filly would be challenging. Despite this, she had the easiest friendship problem to explain: disinterest. I found it both reassuring and frustrating that Celestia could provide no hint for this trial.

“So what do you like to do?” I asked—quickly, before she could put me off again.

She stared at her plate. “I don’t know. I guess I like crossword puzzles…”

I perked up. “Great. What makes you like them?” I asked as if trying to inject her with some of my excess energy.

“Does it matter?” Noble Truth asked, with a certain disdain. It was a contemplated remark that I sensed wasn’t personal.

I let out a sigh, but immediately reached deep within myself to try and find anything to offset my own growing pessimism. Suddenly the constant clanging of silverware and ambient hoofbeats returned to the foreground as distractions.

“Are you going to suggest we do crosswords together?”

“I thought about it...” I confessed.

She looked me in the eyes, for what felt like the first time. “Look: there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re doing what Princess Celestia asked, and that’s fine. It’s a hard job; I wouldn’t want it. But you don’t have to pretend to be my friend. I’ll let you hang out for a while and you can write a nice friendship report to the Princess, and then we’ll be done.”

“Cake Slice actually only wanted to be my acquaintance when I helped her...” I explained. I mainly wanted time to think, but fortuitously, it was a good point.

“She did, huh?” Noble Truth said with a full mouth. “So why would the princess dispatch you, then?”

She’s got a good point. I can’t admit that I’m doing this just for that stupid box. What can I do that Celestia can’t? Actually…

“It’s because she really wants to help you! I might not succeed, but there’s a chance it could work out. I mean, you talk to her about something, don’t you? Or do you just have tea during your sessions?”

Noble Truth’s ears drooped. At first, I thought she was embarrassed, but there was a consternation beyond that written on her face. “I’m not perfect...” she finally said. “Princess Celestia thinks I need more friends, and my parents think so too, but I’m okay. I don’t need to go out on the town every Sunday.” She swept up her trash into her tray and got up. “See you around, River.”

I had expected a longer lunch with her, but I couldn’t muster the zeal to stop her. I shifted in my seat and felt the static caused by my fur against the smooth bench.

She wants friends, but doesn’t want to want friends. So is she the most cliche case of them all? What am I supposed to do? Drag her with me to see Squirt—Squirt and… Ah, ponyfeathers… she’s me, isn’t she? Will I really need to reach out and get her to embrace pony socialization? I’ve only barely “progressed” to the “Squirt” stage of development myself. And if that’s all I can do for her, I’d deserve a “C-” at best. And I doubt magic keys grade on a curve...

My stomach sank as the worst realization yet hit: I might not be able to do this job as I was currently. And I had to wonder: exactly what kind of pony would River Glade need to be to solve a dozen friendship problems?

I sat alone during recess. The big tree in the playground was a central hub of sorts, but one perk of being a pseudoprincess was that nopony tried to kick me off the spot. After pleading with my classmates, they allowed me to have some alone time when I wasn’t in a mood to play with them. It was sort of an all-or-nothing prospect, though, since I couldn’t talk with Thaumaturgical or Squirt without onlookers congregating around me.

“You doing okay?” Pestle softly asked, sneaking up on me. I might have jumped, but dealing with Star had given a certain resistance.

I picked up the scattered sheets of my notes. “I was just strategizing the whole mission thingy. I’ve got Celestia’s notes almost memorized at this point—these are mine, actually. Do you have something to report on?”

I did my best not to sound impatient and still failed.

“Has the schedule I made worked out?”

I smiled at her. “It has been helpful. Success hasn’t been forthcoming thus far, but that’s my fault. I thought I was pretty good at planning, but your tune-ups were something else. What’s your secret?”

She shrugged, and a leaf randomly fell on her nose. “It’s nothing special. It’s just something alchemy really helps with. You have to consider which ingredients are the limiting factors and adjust the ratios of everything else to maximize the potency of the brew.”

I blew the leaf off her nose. “Oh, do you have anything new on Pink Diamond?” I asked, somewhat excited.

She pressed a hoof against the big tree and stretched her neck. “I haven’t had much luck honestly. She’s kind of closed off to me I think”

“Really?!” I asked, truly incredulous.

“She basically chose Annuity over me. It’s fine. I mean, we don’t have anything in common anyway.”

“Yes, that’s fine. I may not be any better of a friend candidate, but she trusts me at least.” I considered refraining from my next comment, but for some reason, it was comforting to complain. “You know, she’s not even the toughest nut to crack. That Noble Truth will be harder than I thought, and Perfect Double is a real screwball. Oh well, at least I don’t have to redeem Annuity or anything.”

The purple filly actually laughed.

“Yeah, uhhh… apparently princesses are tasked with redeeming evildoers. I’ll just say that’s above my pay grade for now.”

I looked back at my notes with subtle anxiety clouding my thoughts. I had wanted to review my notes as much as possible, and now I didn’t know if I could refocus. Somehow, Pestle read that.

“I’m sorry I interrupted you, but I wanted to give you this—” She hoofed me a vial of murky liquid.

I shook my head. “That’s dangerous for me with my… situation.”

“I know!” she chirped. “It’s an energy brew—no more magical than a glass of milk.”

“Oh, that’s thoughtful…” I said, flattered.

My classmates started encroaching on our position. Apparently, they weren’t going to let Pestle hog me.

The bell rang. I breathed a sigh of relief. That didn’t stop Zephyr Zap from accosting me, though.

“Hi River! Can you hear my request today?”

“Hey, no reservations!” Stardust griped. “Read the rules!”

“Actually, Zap, I won’t be able to do “court” for a little while,” I announced—at a volume everypony could hear. “I have a mission from Princess Celestia.” Listening to myself talk, it sounded like a hastily assembled excuse.

“Is it a friendship mission?” Little Pinion asked.

“No—well, yes. It’s a friendship mission.”

Annuity circled to the back of the line. “Everypony, are you going to stand for this? A friendship mission?! Why would Princess Celestia give a total newbie a job like that? She’s trying to ignore your very important petitions!”

“Umm… exactly what else would Princess Celestia have a friendship student do?” Pestle asked sardonically.

Annuity’s face puffed up, and the laughter of the crowd silenced her retort.

You know, this whole friends with Pestle thing might work after all.

This… might be okay.

“Huh?”

Pestle turned her head to look questioningly at me.

“Did… did you say something?” I asked uncertainly.

“No?” Pestle replied.

“Nothing… thought I heard something.”

“I am very ‘appy to be here. Ze Princezz was graceful to let me be here with you all,” Mix-up said, after starting with some small talk.

He’s humble. A bit too much...

“I’m glad you’re enjoying your time in Canterlot. I didn’t know at first if I would enjoy Equestria mysel—this program I mean.”

Mix-up stretched his wings. Before I had wings, I had thought it was some sort of body language I was missing. Nope—turns out it’s easy to forget to move them, and then they’ll suddenly go to sleep or stiffen up.

“It iz nice ‘ere. I am learning lots of things.”

Celestia’s notes were fairly straightforward, so I decided a proportionally direct course of action was called for.

“You… want to make more friends, but your Equish isn’t great.”

Mix-up flinched.

Maybe that was too direct…

I looked at one of his many pictures, for a reason break eye contact. I assumed it was his father, as he had a similar pattern of colored spots contrasting with the rest of his coat.

“Celestia told me,” I said simply.

I was met with a concerned expression.

“You don’t call her Princezz? Are you zat close with ‘er?”

Dang! I always forget that.

I might be the same race as her, but that didn’t make her my equal.

Then again, applying the title seemed a bit too...distant.

“Do you want to practice?” I said, changing the subject.

“No!” He said, somewhat surprised by his own tone. “I mean, if that is what ze princezz wants, I will do it. But is zat about friendship?”

I had a subtle moment of panic, as if suddenly blindsided by the fact that I had no qualifications whatsoever to do this job.

“You want to make new friends here, yes?”

It’s a better starting point than some.

He nodded bashfully.

I trotted closer.

“I would introduce you to my friends, but none of them seem like a good fit honestly.”

He blushed and stepped a few paces back.

“But if I can get to know you, maybe we can figure out the type of ponies you can target. You see—”

I took a step forward; he took a step back.

I paused for a moment.

I took a step forward; he took a step back.

Stopping just short of pinning him to the wall, I looked him over, puzzled.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, it iz just... you are so very pretty…”

I blushed slightly—more for the embarrassment than the compliment itself.

It had to be that…

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” I said, primarily for my own satisfaction.

He combed his hair, still jittery. “Mais non, I am not used to ze attention from fillies,” he said in his strange cadence. Fortunately, I could tell he wasn’t misinterpreting my interest in him. “You are a princezz, and I don’t think—”

“Not a princess—” I cut in. “Sorry, continue.”

He cleared his throat. “I just don’t think a filly can help with making friends with colts...”

My face and legs tensed up in the early stages of anger. But then I remembered that he never saw me as a colt in the first place. Then I was suddenly rocked by anguish.

I realized, rather suddenly, and very clearly, my station on the other side of an invisible wall. In my attempt to reach over, I was knocked off my hooves. But I still had to say something…

“Uh… yeah, I could see you might think that. But you might be surprised—haha.”

My weak laugh echoed, if only in my head.

“Very well,” he said, with slightly more confidence in himself. “You have learned from the princezz, no?”

“Right!”

That’s step one.

Now what?

The lamp marinated in the all-encompassing monologue.

The position of the solipsist is not so much placing the ego above all else as an absolute skepticism—even humility. What some may say is putting one’s self above all else, there is room for profound clarity of that same scorned external reality. It might even be more natural for one to say “I am one with everything” as “I am god” and so on and so on. This pseudo egalitarianism thus bridges the divide between what one wants and what one is, which from the standpoint of—

Mercifully, Princess Celestia trotted through the door. She magicked the door and deliberately looked both ways before releasing the spell.

“Gah!” the changeling voiced, panting and wheezing mid-form as Celestia levitated him off the table.

The princess wore a suspicious and concerned expression. “Are you all right?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just another full day of torture!”

The princess frowned. “Are you not used to turning into other things?”

“Not like that!”

Celestia levitated a cold cup of tea to her lips, perhaps to conceal her emotions. “Some have likened it to sleep, though I’ve seldom used such magic to restrain others.”

The little changeling gave the princess a quick look-over in order to gauge that statement.

I think she’s telling the truth.

“Not what I care to hear,” the changeling said to them both. “Sleep is actually quiet.”

Celestia levitated her crown to her nightstand. “It’s not a method I prefer, but otherwise, all you need to do is turn into a mouse and scurry off… That’s how you got out the first time, no?”

The former lamp scoffed. “One: you greatly underrate the difficulty of assuming such forms. Two: Maniacal Laughter had her skeleton key hairpin. I would’ve thought you would immediately confiscate something like that, but I’m not here to tell you how to run your kingdom.”

The princess almost retorted, but thought better of it. “So is that mare a changeling as well?”

“No, just crazy.”

The queen won’t like—

“You’re surprisingly loose lip—”

“I know!” the changeling child shouted. “Look: we all know I’ll lose in the long run when it comes to protecting my intel. It’s just a matter of how low you’ll go with the torturing children thing.”

Princess Celestia’s expression softened a little and showed… guilt?

“So what’s your mission, little one?”

The changeling examined his front hoof, not bothering to mask his indifference. “My side is actually smart—smarter, you know? I was told no more than I needed to know. The queen supposedly wanted to test one of the loopy unicorn’s devices.”

Princess Celestia looked ready to seize on that remark.

“Though I don’t know which one!” He emphasized. “Maybe we’ve tested it already. Maybe not, but I haven’t a clue.”

“And the other villains?” Celestia asked serenely.

“Some are changelings; some aren’t. The queen isn’t that original, honestly, so she probably stole the idea from somewhere.”

The princess visibly relaxed. Would this be enough to satisfy her, or would he have more quality time with Tlldem?

“You are rather... unique. I never thought a changeling would critique his queen. Who are you?”

“My name is Hiromaru Usawa. I was a regular office worker when one day I didn’t see a truck coming and it hit—ow!”

Celestia had whacked him hard with a pillow.

“Okay, fine. The truth is that I was the ninth son of the Holy Colander Emperor on the planet of Cormino. I was betrayed by my older brother, but instead of dying, a pasta deity offered me the opportunity to reincarnate into— ow!”

The pillow, which normally represents security in a state of utmost vulnerability has become a weapon, as if one’s own inner peace is the harbinger of invasion...

“Quiet, Tlldem.” It felt really good to be able to say that again.

“Hmm?”

“Oh, nothing. Just talking to my guardian spirit.”

Once more, the innocent changeling was whacked in the snout. ‘Hey! What gives!?”

Princess Celestia’s previously disarming and gullible expression faded. “If you’re done rehashing the plots of comics, I have… a proposal.”

“Okay, what’s in it for me?”

“Let’s start with… twenty-four hour leave from this place, and… seeing an old friend.”

The concept of parole itself is—

“So when do we get started?”

Diane groped her way through a maze of vines. After circling for what felt like hours, she finally rounded a corner that looked unfamiliar. Bracing herself against a weathered stone wall, she was struggling to catch her breath.

“That’s… odd. Quarrel sent me… but I can’t—”

“Need something?”

Diane jumped and reached for a weapon that the dreamscape hadn’t afforded her. The same moment she locked eyes with the brown filly was the one when she remembered whose voice it was.

“You’re… Auburn?”

The foal nodded.

Diane kicked a leg back and balanced herself in a fighting stance. “I was warned that one of you dream creatures was false. Forgive me, but I’m not going to believe my brother is the fake.”

The filly looked down. “That’s not nice. Just because I can’t walk and talk like you do in the material realm doesn’t mean I’m a fake.”

Diane slightly relaxed her muscles. “My… friend… told me that there were tricks in the realm of dreams. I just thought—”

The filly sighed. “I’m used to it—really…”

This time, Diane’s guilt did overpower her battle readiness. “I suppose I’m trespassing on your dream. Sorry about that. Can you show me the way out?”

She shook her head. “Once you wander off the trail, it becomes a one-way street I’m afraid. I can’t take you to House Keeper. You’re the one connected to her, not I. However... I think I might be able to take you somewhere you’d want to go anyway.”

“You’re... helping me?”

She turned and smiled. “What can I say? I’ve had a good week.”

Chapter 44

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter 45

I dragged my hooves into my room. All I wanted to do was go to bed, and it was barely past noon. The root cause? Too much Blue Horizon.

I hopped up on the bed.

Man, here I thought Pink Diamond was the most draining type of filly oversaturation to experience.

Saturday afternoon was generally when I gave myself a break, and I never felt I needed it more. The competition I could handle, but doing it with two different personas felt like more than double the work.

There was a knock at the door.

I sighed.

I really wanted to just ignore it, and I did just that for several seconds; then, it opened anyway.

“Oh, it’s you…” I said weakly upon seeing the solar monarch herself.

“That’s a warm welcome,” Celestia said ironically.

I didn’t bother responding and closed my eyes to think for a second. “You know, my life is basically on the line—my very existence. If it was something I had more control over, I’d probably be filled to the brim with motivation. But it’s playing guidance counselor to a bunch of foals... I can no more force the issue than I can will grass to grow—assuming that is not yet another secret alicorn ability…”

“That’s actually why I’m here,” the princess said thoughtfully. “It occurred to me over tea how trying this must be for you. I want to support you anyway I can.”

“You got any more tips?” I suggested.

She shook her head. “If I had the answers, I would have “fixed” all of their problems before we ever dusted off that magic box.”

I looked at her with tired eyes.

Celestia contemplated the conundrum for a moment. “You know, this is where I would tell Twilight to look to her friends to take the burden off of her, but I’m sure you’re getting enough of that with your mission.”

“You assume correctly,” I said, curtly. I thought about it for another second. “I—I really appreciate that you’re trying to—well, do something.”

“That’s me—always doing things,” she said casually.

I let the quietude overtake us for a moment. “I don’t know what I’d expect you to do in the best of times. You can’t sugarcoat the price of failure, and—well, you’ve already noted the task isn’t easy, so what am I left with?”

She looked down. “I’m sorry. Maybe I should’ve come better prepared with my words.”

I shook my head, slowly, side-to-side. “There are perks to the rigid life I lived, fighting the fight. You can only do one day at a time. If you try to imagine fighting the whole campaign at once, your morale will suffer.”

“That’s a new take,” she said gently.

My skepticism must have shown on my face.

“Okay, I suppose it’s just the presentation that’s new to me. But still, I’m glad you can find some peace.”

I laughed. “I feel like I’ve bested you—leaving you with no wisdom to impart. Unfortunately, that somewhat warped fruit of satisfaction fails to nourish my mind, strengthen my body—or make dealing with Noble Truth any easier.”

She chuckled while inadvertently dusting the top of my dresser with her tail.

The princess took a breath and a step towards the door. “I still regret not having anything substantial to say. But I do hope that knowing that I’m watching with hope and concern will make your fight—well… more manageable.”

It would have been easy to brush away the pedestrian sentiment. I couldn’t; I didn’t want to.

Diane once more found herself venturing into Quarrel’s abode. The “chaotic garden” surrounding his residence seemed more in line with the draconequus’s true nature lately—the plants were strange colors, the bushes were growing diagonally, the wild moles were breakdancing, and so on.

She knocked on the door—a slightly different shade of redwood today. A slit opened well above her eye-level to reveal the Great One’s odd eyes. “Oh, it’s you…” he said in relief, before promptly opening the door.

“The latest batch of politicians—I tell you… it almost makes me regret giving up being an autocrat.” He looked pale…

“Were the young ones in the council who pushed you to war with the Rhods?” Diane asked, somewhat surprised at her own boldness. But she was rather curious.

Quarrel stroked his chin. “My historians would tell me to avoid those sorts of generalizations—but yes.”

“Your—I mean, our society tends to be pretty opaque in its operation. I doubt many Rhods would guess you’re not the prime mover.”

He cleared his throat. “So, I take it you’re not just here to see little old me?”

Diane nodded, but made a point not to so too energetically. “I’ve been getting cut-off a lot in my dreams, lately. I get near House Keeper, but I have to start over when she starts dreaming about something else. I don’t know what changed…”

Quarrel gave a nervous chuckle and shrugged. “Weeeeell….. dream magic is extra hard for me, so I took a break from priming your mind.”

“Wait! You’re telling me I’ve been doing it on my own now!?”

He nodded. “Sharp as usual. Forgive me for not saying something before, but I didn’t want to disrupt what you had going.”

The Rhod had questions, but she got the sense that the old draconequus would just mutter about “arcane alicorn nonsense", as he usually did when confronted with questions of dreams, love, friendship, and the like.

“It makes sense…” Diane said faintly. “But, something else happened: I now start… by the ‘Auburn’ filly.

"Oh, so it’s like you changed your spawn point!”

A second later the Great One made some fancy hand motions, as if hoping to elicit a reaction from her.

"What exactly is a spawn point?" Diane asked.

“I don't know, come to think of it.”

Diane sighed and took her usual seat on a stool by the open window. The calming view of nature made her envious of the beautiful cottage Quarrel live in.

"My time with Auburn made me realize I don't really know her,” said Diane. “She's kind of nice, but what am I even going to say to her? She's a foal; while I'm about to be a mother. I guess I kinda have to figure out the talking to young kids part all over again."

“We’ve rehearsed the diplomacy aspect; you should be fine.”

“Maybe they would help, but you keep turning them into comedy sketches!” She snapped back.

“Do I?” He looked at her with a coy playfulness that betrayed his dearth of ignorance.

“Yes! One moment you’re describing a dead parrot; the next you’re naming eighty varieties of cheese!”

Quarrel took a few long strides towards the open fireplace. He squatted directly in front of it, inhaled deeply and—proceeded to grab a match off the shelf above him and lit the fire. “Why are these foals after me, and what do they want with me? It’s a pretty important question—To me, anyway, but I admit I may be a tad biased.”

"She's probably out for a bounty. Who knows how many toys she could buy with that," Diane proposed.

“She may seem naive, but appearances can be deceiving. You "New Rhods" would know about that first hand.”

“...did you just make a casual quip about our tumultuous experience adapting to a new life?”

"But you digress. Anyway, two princesses taught me that whole line. I might've been wiser to buy into it sooner.”

"Princesses?"

"Not important. Right now, we need to figure out if only my head will satisfy their parents."

"Do you have a head to spare?" Diane asked.

"Maybe…" Quarrel said tentatively as he rummaged through a conveniently placed drawer.

Diane rolled her eyes. "I have been wondering something…"

"By all means."

"Do you know why my brother would have a connection to this filly from another planet?"

Quarrel took it seriously for a moment. "I don't quite know, but I have a feeling it has something to do with me."

Diane stared.

"No, really, it's not an ego trip. You said your brother had a horn and wings. I'm a being that is fundamentally the opposite. Strange things happen to the world when either us are around. Another weird side-effect is that there can only really be one of my sort at a given time, since we put a strain on reality itself. Come to think of it, I'm surprised I haven't destabilized reality more…”

"That's lovely," Diane said sarcastically as she abruptly got up. “I’ll keep you updated, but it’s clear we don’t have anything more to discuss at this time.”

“Wait!” he urged

She turned.

“Your proficiency with dreams really stands out!”

She paused. “And what does that mean?”

He sighed. “I don’t know…”

She opened the door, motioned to slam it, but stopped abrupt. “I’m not mad at you, really. Our intel is just so limited, and we have little recourse. Unless… we’re willing to take some calculated risks…”

“I just don’t think ponies see me for me,” Monocle concluded.

I was fraying when it came to listening intently. I had felt Monocle could potentially be easy to “solve.” She was talkative, but I hadn't felt like I'd made progress. Still, she understood her specific friendship problem, despite how irrational it was.

"So, you're here with a bunch of ponies that have never met you before. What's the real issue? You may have a wealthier family than most, but so do a good number of foals around here. Besides, your parents aren’t here."

Her eyes found her family photos after slowly scanning the room. She at least was considering what I was saying, which was encouraging.

“Well… I'm told that I act like my parents sometimes,” she finally said.

“What do you mean? How would they even know?”

“Well, I can be a bit… boring sometimes. And ponies can tell I'm from money even if I don't tell them.”

In a glorious moment, inspiration struck me.

"I can relate..." I said in a drawn out fashion, piecing together a plan as I stalled. "It’s like I walk around with a status symbol on my body, if you know what I mean.”

She took a moment to absorb it, and her eyes started sparkling with hope. "You're right! I guess I only need to ask you how you manage it."

I practically flinched at her enthusiasm. It made me question whether my idea was that good.

Patience... I should answer carefully.

"I find that with new ponies, I can't really connect with them that well. I also sometimes wonder if my new friends are really my friends because they actually like me. It kinda makes me wonder if I can make any new friends, which I haven't, so what I do is just treasure the ones I do have even more.

"I guess," she said faintly.

“You know, like first impressions!" I said, trying to salvage the conversation. As I explained, I frantically gestured with my hooves, as if to try and transfer some of that enthusiasm to her. “You’re lucky that you can make a first impression before they figure you out . It's something to get used to--seeing how others respond genuinely early on.”

She nodded subtly.

"I really appreciate it, River. You’re working hard with all of us. But, I have an appointment to keep.” She perked up suddenly. "Say, do you want to play mahjong with us? A couple of fillies are getting together."

“Sorry, I need to meet with Celestia about my mission,” I said, using my later plans as a misleading excuse. Even if I knew little of the game, I still felt a little traumatized over losing all my sticks over and over.

"Oh, okay..."

I let out a long sigh on the way out. Maybe it was because I wasn’t being genuine with her.

That’d be ironic.

I shook my head. How would I even have the luxury of connecting with them? There had to be a trick to get a few easy keys like I got with Cake Slice.

In other news, I apparently was in the tabloids now.

Yes, that can only make my life easier.

Speaking of making my life easier, I had considered looking to see if my homework could be lightened a bit. But I had pride.

What was I supposed to do with my time anyway if I don't do this? Reading—I guess.

I was in a foul mood—so I went to see Noble Truth!

My hooves themselves seemed to protest, but I figured my night couldn't get much worse.

I knocked. No answer.

I started brainstorming places to check, but halfway through the process, she rounded the corner to reach her room at the end of the corridor. I must have been reminiscent of a stalker, especially considering my room was a few floors below hers.

"Hey, Noble Truth, I know we were going to meet tomorrow, but I figured why not get it out of the way tonight? After all, Celestia expects…”

Her stare itself seemed to pierce my defenses, sizing up my paper-thin justification for ambushing her.

BAD IDEA! ABORT! ABORT! WHAT AM I THINKING!??

"Well, what I'm saying is I wanted to see you—sooner, yeah..."

Well, I’ll be leaving then…

She stared at me, almost absentmindedly. “I guess. Come on in,” she said without the slightest bit of enthusiasm.

I meekly followed her in, cursing my own poor judgment. "Thanks…"

It was a bad habit, but now that I was in, I couldn't resist trying to gauge her personality based on the furnishings. Without exaggeration, she hadn't done a thing to personalize her room. Although, to be fair, it also looked like nopony was using it. Even better than mine looked in that respect.

She sighed. “I suppose you're doing your job is all. Can't be that fun sprinkling all the pep in.”

I laughed softly, appreciating that someone understood—or even guessed—my travails. “It’s really not that great and besides, it's usually not me that brings the pep. The others can be pretty energetic. That’s not really the problem actually. Zephyr Zap at school is more enthusiastic than anypony, but it never rubs me the wrong way. It might if I was assigned to her, admittedly.” I paused to ponder a flash realization. “Actually, what I think the challenge may be is that everypony is enthusiastic about their interests.”

I didn’t know what to say. This really had nothing to do with her. I needed to get back on track.

“So you’re saying I’m difficult because I don’t have any real interests?”

Ponyfeathers. I already chalked tonight up as a loss. Now I just needed to mitigate the damage and try to break even.

“I don’t know you, so I am a little suspicious," she continued. "You don’t know me, so you don’t need to pretend to like me. I figure you’re just trying to just move ‘my case’ forward.”

I racked my brains. Aha! It worked before.

“Truth, I relate to that now more than ever because of the whole princess/not a princess thing. I don’t know if ponies actually like me for real anymore, or they are just trying to get in my good graces. I can understand that you think I might just view you as a box to check to get a key.”

"Key?"

I flinched. "Oh, that—it's nothing. If you think I'm like a teacher where I have to attend to the charges put in front of me no matter what. I—I’m just not that pony yet, and I don’t know if I want to be."

Noble Truth nodded in understanding. “That’s curious,” she said faintly.

I looked down and away momentarily. She had moved her bed right by the door, so I availed myself of leaning on a bedpost. “What do you mean?” I finally asked, surely sounding dumb.

She shook her head. “It doesn’t mean much. It’s just a surprise that you actually have self-awareness. I didn't think you would be able to be yourself—or whatever—with those sort of expectations placed on you—though you never struck me as that remarkable.”

I moped.

“Oh, It's nothing against you,” she assured me unconvincingly. “I just thought very few would be able to exist under the princess label. And I’m just saying you didn't strike me as the amazing type that would."

I rolled my eyes.

“Still no good?” she asked.

This pony. I shouldn’t have cared that her assessment of me was lukewarm, but it was just that criticism was like breathing to her.

I checked her flank. I didn’t make a point of reading the butts of everypony around me, but I was convinced that had to be her talent. But sure enough, I confirmed what Celestia’s notes told me: blank.

I made incidental eye contact with her, panicking a little upon realizing the need for me to respond.. "N—no, I think I get it. And I don't think I'm remarkable or anything. Maybe it's because I haven't ‘accepted’ the title yet. But I just asked Celestia for something to do—otherwise I'd just be pampered and groomed all day, and I might well lose myself. So she gave me this whole friendship business."

She looked stunned. "You actually wanted to do this?"

"Not this," I answered quickly. "But it was better than doing nothing. She said I couldn't design her a better bridge—or a mousetrap, I don't know—and she also wouldn't let me do her paperwork."

The filly paused in thought. She opened her mouth only to think better of speaking and then did so again. "And I thought that Princess Celestia didn't have the luxury of… caring," she confessed

Is this the first pony I've ever heard criticize Celestia?

I looked her over. Her shades of green and purple contrasted in a way few ponies’ colors did. I then became self-conscious of how close we were. I started to move to the side, but that only served to stress how small the room was. My sense of scale had become weird.

Fortunately she continued her thought while I pondered unrelated things. "It's nothing on her; I just didn't think she had the luxury of understanding ponies. How many she must talk to every day."

Sensing an opportunity, I jumped into action. "You were chosen, Noble Truth. The princess started this program for a reason. She can provide, but you still have to do the steering yourself."

"I know. I know," she said somewhat caustically.

Did I mess up?

"But when you say it like that, you're right, even the small things—the little guidances— are a grand gesture, but not just because of who she is," she finished.

“Before you got here, she spent quite a bit of time with me...” I said, not paying too much mind to what I was saying.

Wait. Do I miss having more attention from her?

She smirked

"If she has to manage her time, she's just being realistic. It's so obvious. If she was there for us all the time ponies would complain," she said, fortunately not picking up on my tiny anxiety.

"Exactly!" I said, with punctuation. "Her days are as long as anypony else's!"

Noble Truth whipped her head toward me and flashed a sadistic smile. "Well, considering that she can decide when the day ends, you're 100% wrong."

I must have had a really dumb look on my face and was feeling like I had been sucker punched.

"Just a joke," she added dismissively.

I took a breath and braced myself, ready to take another risk. "Well, I do have the time that she doesn't. I may not be as smart or experienced as she is, but I want to try."

She looked puzzled, but I trudged onward.

"After talking with you, I get the sense that I was putting all of you in a box—but especially you. The other eleven—ten dang it—no, nine. Ponyfeathers why can't I keep that straight!" I sighed. "You get the point. I don't know what I'll be able to do for you, but I'm willing to start anew. Maybe being a princess is about understanding everypony has different needs—not that I'm a princess yet or will be in the future…”

"You're not?"

"No, there's a test." I quickly pointed out. A complete half-truth, but she didn't need to know that I had accidentally passed already.

“I'm going to the cafeteria,” she said abruptly.” I'm thirsty. I rarely talk so much in one day.”

This threw me off. Did she really just go between here and school every day? I convinced myself that her parents must have signed her up for exactly that reason.

I suddenly got the sense that all of my progress was just about to head out the door.

"Hey, Truth," I said, hoping I'd come up with a follow-up quickly.

"Yes?"

Quickly, I said! Quickly!

"Umm… you aren't so bad… just different."

She had a sour look on her face, but the message seemed to sink in and she seemed to appreciate it. "Thanks," she said, simply.

She took another step out the door, but then stopped and turned. “I have something for you.

My heart skipped a beat.

“I took this box of pencils from the supply room, but I found I brought one in my luggage. Would you mind returning it on the way down for me?”

“Oh… okay.”

With that she went on her way and left me staring at the floor looking lost.

Surely I wasn’t desperate enough to actually believe this would be the key.

I tried every last pencil—on all eleven locks.

Celestia felt the warped sense of time brought on by adrenaline and unease. She caught herself gnawing on a stray strand of her mane, a habit she had kicked years ago.

When was the last time I was this nervous?

She told herself that nothing she could do would change the results. It was like Twilight waiting for the results of a test—”

Okay, let’s not get carried away. It’s not nearly that bad. But if I’m right... how would I face Alice again?

The professor drew closer as Celestia’s absent gaze refocused on her and Twilight.

“We both considered the possibility, though I’m not above claiming nearly all the credit for the concept.”

“It’s true,” Twilight said with the sort of ego-free appraisal of reality that Celestia had always liked.

“As we all know, subject A—we’ll call her Alice, had suspiciously similar color alleles to the four of you. Essentially, the stochastic hypothesis doesn’t bear out—at all. In other words: the odds of her having a magical signature that could pass as native Equestrian is nearly zero.”

Twilight was suspiciously silent. The Princess of Friendship was there for her own curiosity primarily, but Celestia really wished she didn’t have to be witness to this.

"You seem nervous for some reason, Celestia,” Twilight said with a serene curiosity. “Isn’t it a good thing to learn more?”

Celestia didn't respond verbally and simply lifted the small pendant resting on her throne’s arm upward and towards the two mares. "Twilight, what is your read on this magical artifact?"
Twilight looked puzzled. Then the gears started turning, and Celestia could imagine Twilight's mental contortions to make her vague question make sense.

"It's not a trick question," Celestia finally assured her.

Twilight cocked her head to the left and then to the right, confused. "I guess… it's just a normal pendant."

“You’re right,” the elder princess said. "But not when I got it. No, back then, it was an impeccably crafted artifact—a protective charm—given to me by none other than Starswirl the Bearded."

Twilight was fighting not to have a fanfilly freakout.

"I'm sure you want nothing more than to put this under the microscope to verify what I said. But… I value it."

“When did he give it to you? What powers? Is it the same pendant from that boring play? When did the magic decay? Why would you even need something like that? Why—”

"I'm sorry—I have to cut you off," Celestia said, in a tone that would surely send Twilight back to being the student. "Professor, please"

The professor, eager to divulge their discoveries, picked up without a beat. "Despite the genetic similarities between the sample size of four, this filly is not your daughter."

"Wait! What!??” Twilight squealed.

Celestia nodded solemnly. "That's a relief. From what Luna told me, there’s simply no denying Alice was born to a human woman as a human. What I would've done if you had said otherwise… I don’t know... How would I be able to look at her ever again without seeing the child I never knew... It—it wouldn't have been fair at all."

“A magical signature and its genetic information are no more remarkable than a hoofprint. Alice's soul is her own," the professor said succinctly, as if reciting a law of physics.

"Why!?" Twilight blurted out. “Why are we even considering this!”

“You see: this artifact’s magic faded that night—as did the tiny magic inside of me. It sounds ridiculous when I say it aloud, but it was a miraculous possibility I couldn’t just ignore.”

Twilight looked at her with a special type of naivete—she wasn’t looking on her as a purveyor of great wisdom, but as a mare with more life experience and resistance to emotional turbulence.

“But why wear it…” she wondered absentmindedly.

It’s as if she’s compartmentalizing to process this. Her curiosity just won’t stop for anything...

“It was an unstable artifact, admittedly. I kept it because… it was the last thing I had to remember him by. I wore it that night. It… was a tough choice—to wear it. In truth, I feared for the lives of all three of us that night. My sister had gained great power and with it, the dark fortitude to fight with abandon. I needed every advantage I could possibly obtain."

Twilight looked somber. She had developed a much-improved emotional intelligence, and those insatiably curious eyes now spoke of empathy.

Twilight composed herself after a deliberate nod. "And here I thought we were just pondering the alicorn genome. But I'm glad that load is off your mind. I suppose we'll end our report on the other matter—about Discord. So I'll just cut to the chase and say it: we compared Alice's chromosome nine with Discord's and we found—"

A split second between words Celestia caught a mischievous smile from the old professor.

"A match!" the mare cut in.

"WHAT!?" Twilight verbalized, drowning out whatever incoherent noise Celestia had made in response to this announcement.

"Ponies can't mate with Discord! I don't even understand why we did the analysis. And we did the numbers together! That's the opposite of what we—"

The mare cackled softly, amused. "Precisely: ‘the opposite.’” It hit me on the way over here: apply an imaginary kernel to the similarity matrix, and lo-and-behold p < 0.10 for direct parentage."

"That—" Twilight voiced, before falling into silence to process this newest development. Celestia had just started to follow her in the jolted recovery process. She had several theories, but voicing any of them around two intellectuals would probably just land them three hours into the future with a throne room half-filled with chalkboards and no better informed.

In a strange way, it made sense—that draconequus genetics would make no sense.

"It's not impossible for hybridized magic to arise because of unusual parentage, but this makes no sense!" Twilight protested

Then the former friendship student stopped, distracted by another thought in the middle of her frantic logical bartering. "I suppose if there was some loose chaos energy then conceivably it might be attracted to a similar source. It's not like there's anything—anything remotely similar within lightyears of Rhod!"

"Add that to the list of mysteries," the science mare said, with a refined, masochistic scientific love of not knowing.

Celestia's somber disposition returned. "I had almost forgotten. Any idea of how much time Alice has remaining?"

The professor shook her head. "No news is good news, though. The young alicorn continues to exceed expectations. Our models are rough, but such a mismatched hybridized magic should have expedited the transformation by a factor of four. But somehow we're witnessing the opposite.

To Celestia's surprise Twilight looked tired. Despite her passion, all of the orating had worn her out.

“Well, I have a lot to think about,” Celestia said, exhaling. “I’m relieved—I think.”

“That I can understand,” Withers said.

With that the unlikely pair of academics awkwardly waved goodbye, turned and left.

"The princess is really worked up over this," the professor said softly, believing herself out earshot.

"Can you blame her? She saved the life of a human and now he's here—changed."

As they walked out of the throne room, Celestia ultimately decide to refrain from using her best eavesdropping spells

Withers nodded, admonishing herself for overlooking the obvious. "And the repercussions will be huge,” she replied. “The maternal aspect aside, you can't blame her wanting some help. Other countries have bureaucrats, judges and governors to do the heavy lifting. If you look at population growth, there will be more and more strain put on them—err… you."

Twilight smiled. "I still forget myself sometimes."

Withers' expression soured. "Don't mind this old mare's rambling. It's a benefit of getting old that you can be completely candid with little consequence. But there's no excuse to lean on it as heavily as I do. Incidentally, am I overstepping by putting myself in Princess Celestia's horseshoes?"

Twilight thought back, smiled and gently shook her head. "No, and I’m surprised at how right you were just now. Celestia probably felt guilty that she'd even considered that another princess would help the effort. I mean, it's not like Alice would volunteer to do filing or paperwork! You shouldn't feel bad for trying to understand Princess Celestia. I used to worry the same way, but it makes her happy when ponies empathize with her."

The professor warmly regarded the youngest princess. She may not have had the best vantage point to make the observation, but it felt true to her: this young mare was continuing to grow in empathy and in so many other aspects.

I barely noticed when recess rolled around these days. Ponies usually let me have these moments. I was sort of surprised Annuity didn't go out of her way to bother me. Still, I couldn't really enjoy it. It wasn't just that school felt so small in the scheme of things; it was that I legitimately did not feel like I was being productive or upstanding if I wasn't working on getting the keys.

I felt a presence behind me. I had a sixth sense (perhaps literally) alerting me to who it was.

"If you wanted to sneak up on me, you could have. You legitimately might be better than Star; Flower Power still cooks you both, though."

"Flower… Power?" the changeling child said, stilted.

"The ninja maid that kicked your butt."

He shrugged. "Fighting is part of my identity, but Tlldem always reminds me that there's always someone better."

Oh, that’s right.

I really didn't envy the whole guardian spirit thing. It'd be like having Celestia's platitudes directly in my brain.

At least I'm safe inside my mind.

"A nice thought," I said weakly as I proceeded to stand up.

"Where are you going?" he asked with a naïve intonation that really showed how young he was.

"Uh…"

Normally my not-so-subtle attempts to escape would go unheralded.

"Oh, I guess I never asked why you accosted me…"

He smiled. "That's right!"

I tried to wait out the awkwardness but ultimately conceded. "So, then. What do you want? Normally I do this fake court thing where two ponies a day get to ask something, but I'll give you a free request."

"Awesome! I don't want anything big. I just want to fight you again!"

"Oh, well, th—that's complicated…" A strange elixir of contrary emotions swirled through my being at his request.

He wasn't discouraged in the slightest. "Don't worry—we can keep the foal gloves on, but fighting you was really cool!”

Foal gloves? That makes no sense. That makes it a pony parlance malfunction? If anything wouldn't they be socks?

"Yeah, it's not just that you're strong. You have really good technique and fundamentals—I can see that even if I've never seen the school you practice before. I have to be about technique because my spirit isn't great on offense. Hopefully, I’m not being too annoying..."

I looked him over and then in the eye. Of all things, he reminded of Squirt geeking out about game mechanics

I nodded, as if to force acknowledgement of him to come to the surface. "I just can’t right now. I’ve been rethinking fighting myself. You're not annoying. It's not an excuse though: I'm really busy."

And the last time wasn’t fun for me. Actually, was it ever fun? Or was it just a distraction? I’m good at it, but proving that to him meant nothing in the end...

He frowned a bit and looked away, and I took that as permission to leave, even if I was going nowhere in particular.

"I thought you said you wanted to be my friend…" he weakly said after me.

Ponyfeathers…

I sighed. "Maybe another time."

Following that interaction I had barely walked a few yards away before Zap alighted right next to me. She was by far the least talented in the sneaking up on me department. Her wings buzzed when she was happy—and most of the time, she was pretty happy

"Hiya, River. It's been a hot minute since you played with us. Wanna play gauntlet tag?"

"I can't." I answered instantly. The result: another sad pony.

"Oh, I guess you did say you're busy… let us know if you change your mind."

I advanced another few yards towards the schoolhouse.

"Hi, River," said Pestle Mix. "I was thinking I could show you my potion lab."

"Not today. Although, that potion you gave me the other day worked like a miracle"

"Yeah, thanks…"

It wasn't flattery. I wasn't trying to be rude. I just couldn't do it.

I refocused.

I just can't seem to connect with the friendship students as friends…

"River, I have tickets to the science center—" said Skywatcher, somewhat nervously.

"I can't." I said to the unicorn colt, only barely succeeding in containing my annoyance.

Is that a date? And have we even spoken before?

Fizzle clapped from the doorway. "Okay, everypony! Recess is over. I know you're all having fun with your friends, but your board-approved curriculum won't learn itself.”

As the first student in, I was able to take a straight path to my desk. Meanwhile, my overworked mind took a short break to observe the cleanliness of the floor.

I wonder if cleaning the building is part of Ms. Fizzle's job, too?

I shook my head.

No, it's those friendship students I need to concentrate on. I'm friendly enough. I wonder what I'm doing wrong…

Author's Note

I sat on this one long enough. Sorry for the wait. My editor was battling COVID, and I can only hope he's on his way to recovery. Still, I probably missed more than usual in this chapter because of it.

I was originally going to go with Alice being Celestia's years ago, but the more I thought about it, the less I liked it for the story. Instead, I decided to take the hybridized magic approach. Nothing will change: it's just a quirk that may be useful later.

Chapter 46

I watched, disoriented, as the blur of strangely-shaped buildings streamed by. We crisscrossed between tracks, often barely avoiding incoming vehicles. Of course, by far the weirdest part was that I was lodged in some sort of breathable, protective, weightless, tasteless (yes, I tried it) jelly. It didn't even restrain my movement that much. It was perfectly engineered for transporting ponies, leaving just one objection: it was pretty weird.

"Why am I on a train…" I said faintly.

"We’re going to school!" the little filly, House Keeper said, with excitement. A second later, gloom seemed to overcome her. “I want to show you, but it’s not fun at all... Do you like going to school?”

"Not really," I said quickly. There were so many things I could say, but I didn't want to stir the pot. I wanted to help her, but I had too many of my own problems. Even with the exchange ponies, I hadn’t accomplished anything just by talking to them.

“I guess there are always ponies who will tell fillies what to do all day...”

“Even for princesses,” I said absentmindedly.

I locked eyes with her and could almost feel her desperation, resonating with what I had said.

I recoiled.

This is obviously a dream. I may as well just enjoy the train ride.

"Diane told me about trains from her world. It sounds like hers are low-tech, barbarian trains, though," she said, in a weak attempt to change the subject.

I almost wanted to wake myself to escape the downer mood. Looking at her gloomy complexion, it felt like more than just melancholy.

"So who are you exactly?" I asked with tempered interest.

"I'm just me!" she said with conviction. "Or if you want to know my pedigree, I'm a Class 1 bridal candidate…"

"What's that, now?" I asked, feeling immediate regret.

“It means a stallion of lower status can't marry me without my father’s consent. I have to be my husband’s only. I can also have certified foals. Though, I don’t really know what that means…”

I looked away, overwhelmed by the gravity of her words.

“River, can I ask you something?”

I nodded, without making eye contact. Still, if she was going to be direct with me, I welcomed any hint about her that may come from it.

“Do you want to do more exciting things, like colts get to do?”

It threw me for a loop. So much so that I didn’t take my time to patiently craft a response. “Well, there’s a friend I... I play games with sometimes. It’s really fun, but I almost feel like I’m not supposed to—as a filly I mean.”

“Exactly! She replied, validated. When my brothers play with me, it’s really fun. I’m sort of jealous they can do what they want, but I’m me. It should be all right to be me I think, but it’s really hard...”

“I don’t see what’s so hard about it,” I said bluntly, trying to disarm the tension. “Of course you’re you. Colt or filly doesn’t factor into it—that’s just a matter of what you get to do and what’s expected of you.”

She looked at me weirdly. “Are you sure?”

“Well I—it seems obvious to me,” I said, somewhat bashful.

“What Diane said the other day made more sense to me,” said House.

“My sis—I mean, yes, that one cat, or filly, or whatever. Yeah, she’s an interesting one. Say, aren't you ever worried about giving away information to strange dream people?"

She giggled. "Mom doesn't believe me when I say I have dream friends. When I told her, she said if dreamtime visitors could see into her heart, she would be in big trouble."

Our platform casually separated from the train and glided over to the wide doorway of a beige, highly angular building. I could hear the mechanical school bell ring with changing pitch as a result of the jelly around me melting.

“Well, we have music class first period,” House said, with measured excitement.

I took one glance into the building and saw the outline of a multi-level sprawling, immaculately clean, winding hallway.

"My apologies, but frankly, I get enough of that when I’m awake."

Through force of will, I yanked myself awake.

When I came to, I felt a frenetic, almost wild momentum beneath me. Sharp turns caused the floor to shift underhoof and threatened me with the prospect of rolling up the walls. I was flanked by two rows of seats, most of which were torn and looked older than Rhod itself.

“Why am I on a train?” I asked, with a hint of deja vu.

I caught sight of a medium-length, brown tail at the end of the aisle.

“Hey, excuse me, do you know where I am?”

The tail’s owner snarled, neck cracking as he jerked his head around to face me. His head lunged at me like a serpent and threatened to separate from his body in its bid to devour me. After the initial jolt of horror had run its course, I felt a second, stronger jolt as I got the sensation of being pulled at once in multiple directions. When I opened my eyes again, I was face-to-face with an undead abomination: eyes of onyx, teeth that made up for their low numbers with ragged sharpness, and a long mane engulfed by an eternal blue flame.

I made a squeaking noise. “Never mind, I was just looking for the—”

A lethal pincer of two front hooves clamped my tiny filly neck as I was jerked violently towards the demon’s mouth and his icy, cold breath.

“All abooooooaaaaard!!!” he wailed, followed by a ruthless laugh.

I braced for the end and closed my eyes to the nightmare, praying that’s what it was.

“Oh, it’s you, Alice.” A familiar, warm voice washed over me.

I opened my eyes, and the contours and colors of the disheveled train car came more clearly into view, along with the brown stallion who was holding me.

“So you’re back, huh?” I asked him. I almost would have preferred he eat me.

He nodded like the dork he was.

I sighed. “So you take over my nightmares as well?”

He nodded again, somewhat confused.

“Look: at this rate, I’m going to be too tired from sleeping to pay attention in class tomorrow. So could you just eat me, or whatever, or slap me awake, or anything really.”

“Okay!” He said with a goofy smile, as an unexpected uppercut connected with my chin.

I jolted awake, panting and coughing.

“As if you have anything negative to dream about,” the filly to my side said in a bratty tone.

For the third time, I took stock of my surroundings. “Why am I on a train?” I said, rather tired of this charade. “And why is Annuity here?”

“Hmph,” Annuity said, with a dismissive toss of her mane.

“Well, I’m bound to wake up one of these attempts. See you around, Annuity.”

I facehooved.

It hurt!

And throbbed.

I winced and my surroundings felt no less real.

“You’re nothing admirable. You’re just weird. I don’t see why ponies obsess over you."

I blinked through the spinning stars in front of me. There were only foal-sized two seats, and they seemed to have been hastily bolted to the floor. Around us were various bags, meticulously labeled.

“Where are we anyway? Don’t tell me: we’ve been foalnapped in the middle of the night!?”

“It’s camp, you idiot,” Annuity scolded.

I took a second to ponder the absurdity. “I… no, I don’t really have a comment. The sheer speed—and efficiency—it’s more impressive than anything else.”

Annuity raised an eyebrow.

“Where are we exactly?”

“A train,” Annuity said caustically. She wore a defiant expression, as if daring me to keep talking to her.

I shrugged. “I guess they put us in the baggage car, then. That’s cool.”

“The princess car, actually," Annuity said with a smirk.

"But this is tiny! Celestia would hardly fit in here!" I proclaimed. A second glance around confirmed that we had none of the furnishings a passenger car would have. There was even exposed metal that looked like it had been painted at the last minute.

“If anyone asks, though, it’s the princess car. I kinda lied to get away from your groupies.”

How long was I asleep?

I shook my head, displeased about soundly sleeping through so much. "So why are you here?"

“I showed up late, and they load us from front to back.”

"No, why are you here? I thought you were going someplace—in the opposite direction—for camp."

She rolled her eyes. "Last minute change of plans. I'd be interested in why you didn't have a reserved spot. Did Celestia forget about you?”

"Maybe." I said, completely immune to the “Celestia doesn’t love me” attack.

"That doesn't bother you?"

"No. It's a blessing. I’ll gladly take only one annoying pony to deal with. Not my first choice, but you know..."

“Hey can you two keep it down? I’m trying to sleep here!” came a voice from above.

I flinched and looked around the car again, before trusting my ears and looking up at the source of the voice. Sure enough, Alibi Align was on the ceiling, sitting upside-down... once again.

“Strike that: two annoying ponies...” Or I guess still one. I don’t know; I just got up.

From there, we were all silent, clearly unhappy with our company. We couldn’t get to Ponyville too soon. Amazingly, my wish came true, as the train slowly came to a stop.

Annuity made a beeline to the exit, and I imitated her, not particularly fancying another chat with my former, way-too-leniently-managed, foe.

The moment my hooves touched solid ground, I started to question that decision. I could feel the gaze of many ponies turn on me instantly. The background chatter was a happy chirp, as they admired the fascinating novelty that I was. It started with a few awkward hellos. Then… it started escalating. As the disoriented greetings turned into questions turned into requests, I quickly started to feel hot and fidgety in my fur.

River this, River that—sometimes just “Princess.” It made me realize how well my schoolmates were doing at restraining themselves.

"Hey River," Spectacle said, with a smile.

I looked at him like a found dog.

Thank you.

"What's up, Spectacle?"

Good. Now they know I know him.

"Really? That's her type?"

"No, I hear she likes some squirt, and that's her type."

"Anypony can get a coltfriend like that. Why not be more selective?"

I glared—albeit randomly. I even formulated a forceful retort—then I remembered the tabloids.

"What's up?" I whispered, as if plotting a conspiracy.

"Oh, nothing really…"

He turned to leave. I put a hoof on his withers, reasoning I had a non-royal obligation to him. "No, you're my friend. You don't need a reason."

He blushed.

So glad I don't have to worry too much about my friends falling for me. It was lucky that the colts close to me already had crushes.

"What about Beakington?" Spectacle asked.

"What—what about Beakington?" I asked, frazzled.

"Can he also "bother" you?"

"Oh, that—of course—needless to say, even."

He smiled, perhaps also appreciating the awkwardness. "Anyway, I was just saying hi. I know we have a couple of activities together, but I hope we're in the same tent."

"Yeah, me too," I said.

I absentmindedly trotted for a couple of dozen steps; then it occurred to me that we were literally being herded. I scanned the perimeter for further verification and spotted some pegasi armed with colorful batons.

Some of them look young, so I don't know why—nope, not thinking about it.

In any event, they had it figured out here, carefully avoiding even the periphery of Ponyville. With several hundred foals involved, it felt like an early morning parade—if half the parade was congregated around the alicorn float that wasn’t enjoying a second of this.

It had been a long thirty seconds, and I had yet to be accosted since I spoke with Spectacle. I took advantage of this surely temporary reprieve to wonder about the campsite. What would this campground look like? To house so many foals. I figured they would be from all over. Are there places especially designed to hold the camps?

I felt a bop on my snout, as I bumped chin-first into somepony. It was a questionable decision to study the formation of pegasi above us while I kept walking.

"Oh, I'm sorry—oh, it's you."

The zebra filly looked confused.

"Oh, it's nothing," I said, cautiously. "I'm just surprised that I know you. Mindre, right?"

She smiled. Apparently, I had extricated myself from whatever faux pas I was flirting with.

"Remembered by the princess. A high honor," she said, somewhat tongue-in-cheek.

"Well, not exactly a princess. I would normally say ‘not if I have something to say about it,’ but I already get all of the unwanted attention and some of the responsibility. So what difference does it make at this point? What would be different?”

"I'm not sure," she said, rather perplexed at being the recipient of my stream of consciousness.

"Oh… so—sorry," I stammered. "Just thinking out loud. I still haven't figured all this out. If I joke about it, maybe ponies—and uh zebras too—will take me less seriously.”

Mindre let out a giggle, which itself seemed to have an accent. "What will be next, Princess? Will you read to me from your diary?"

"Well, I—yes, I suppose I'm being a bit too forthcoming. And I'm sorry for that, but I—"

She nudged me gently, with a smile. "Now I am the one doing the joking, yes?"

I tried matching her smile and laughed awkwardly. "I don't know what to say," I finally said.

"Not the worst thing," she said in a singsong manner.

It was becoming quickly apparent that she was "winning" this interaction.

I wanted to retreat to the back of the herd, but in my peripheral vision, I could see a couple of ponies chomping at the bit to talk to me next.

"What do you think of this whole camp thing?" I asked. "It's quite an impressive effort, to say the least. It's my first time—at one this big. You have your Canterlot Second classmates I suppose, and that's true for me as well. It's just that I already see them enough."

Her gentle gaze encouraged me to continue.

"I also have something important to do: a princess obligation. Not really a princess responsibility, but it's so exhausting to deny every time that I'm at the point of making that concession. It's not like a crown will fall on my head if I don't actively ward off that label, and now I’m doing it again!" I shouted, shaking my head and pressing a forehoof to my face . She laughed politely. "But now I'm just talking about myself again. I'm not that interesting; trust me. So, I guess I'll ask what interests you?"

For a few moments, she was silent as we slowly trotted towards our unknown destination. After a quiet interlude, she cleared her throat softly. "You know, ponies don't usually ask me that, so I don't quite have a response. Usually they ask me where I'm from or if Equestria is different from what I'm used to."

I subtly recoiled. "Yeah, those are better topics," I said, momentarily getting cold feet. "But I've been talking to a Prench pony, and I get the sense he has the same conversations a lot."

The zebra nodded. "It sounds the same. I'm not even that foreign. I came to Equestria when I was two. But to answer your question: I like to shop around."

"Oh, like at the clothing boutiques?"

"Yes, sometimes. But what I like most are odds and ends." I got the impression that she was being patient with me.

At some point during our conversation, the parade of foals had narrowed and we now trotted along a path flanked by two seemingly endless rows of dense trees.

"So like antiques?" I finally said.

She nodded and hopped in place for good measure. It was a subtle bit of body language I had noticed recently. Upon pondering it for a second, It occurred to me that few colts ever did it.

What to say to continue this, conversation…

Mindre suddenly waved ahead. "I'm going to catch-up to my friends now."

I felt a pang of disappointment that I couldn't fully justify.

"But we can talk later. You're a lot different than I expected. In a veeeery~ interesting way," she said, intentionally exaggerating her mild accent.

She had left by the time I had come up with something intelligent to say in response. At some point in our conversation,I had started to notice some strangely rhythmic chatter behind me. It was only later that I figured out that a song had broken out in the back of the line. Meanwhile, in the front, I took in the scent of wild foliage along the narrow path. Different grasses smelled different—I knew the smells, if not the names. One of these days, I might be tempted to taste them as well.

I could tell her that being a princess is kind of like her situation: being tangled in others' assumptions and all. But she's not a friendship student… Besides, didn't I use that pitch already and strike out?

I was a tad fretful, but for some reason that interaction had put me in a good mood.

"Is she friends with the zebra?" I heard behind me.

"I wouldn't want to talk to her myself, but Princess River must be really nice to chat with her."

"You see: she's trying to set up diplomatic relationships."

I sighed. It's only a matter of time before somepony else solicits my attention, or favor.

The line in front of me slowed. Then I heard cheers. Ponies to my side had fanned out as we left behind the narrow path. I dashed to the front, curious as anypony at this point.

I smiled as I took in the sight. It was a massive estate, partially surrounded by a forest. At the center was a two-story farmhouse. Smaller facilities, which looked like recent construction, were spread throughout and formed more or less a semi-circle.

The foals needed no more encouragement and a flurry of hooves rushed past me to get a better look.

"Hmm… it's pretty amazing that a place like this exists just for us to camp at…"

"Actually, this land was once known as Sour Apple Acres; it's a local joke, really. The Orchard family were once well-known in Ponyville and the surrounding areas. All the children moved away in the end, and they ultimately auctioned off the land. I hear the Exquisite family is related to them, though."

"Hey, Thaumaturgical," I said, mildly surprised. "No luck finding Beakington?"

"Actually, a bunch of fillies are asking him all about Griffin country. They seem to be genuinely interested."

Maybe the conversation I had just now is relevant. Good thing they don't know I'm from another dimension…

I took a breath, readying myself for something I had been putting off. "You know, Thaumaturgical, I just wanted to say I'm sorry," I said somewhat sedately.

His ears perked up and he looked confused.

"For being a bad friend I mean," I explained. "I told you a few weeks ago that I'm still your friend, but we haven't done a whole lot together. I've—"

As the noon sun passed directly over us, the shimmering colors of passing ponies almost cast a glare.

"You've been busy," he said warmly.

I nodded, trying to steady my emotions between sappy sincerity and cold detachment. My true feelings were in fact in between, but I felt—more so than I had as a human—that I could be influenced by the reactions of others.

"It's okay," Spectacle said simply. "I understand."

"You do?" I asked in disbelief. A small part of me wanted to grab that reassurance, no-questions-asked. "I've known you longer than Squirt even," I said. "I should be able to prioritize you a bit more."

"River," he said, reassuringly, "I get it. You have a lot of pressure now with the wings and the horn."

I took a breath, ready to jump in.

"But that hasn't given you a free pass," he acknowledged, with a smile. "No, you've still been a good friend in spite of that. You helped me with my cutie mark. I'm still figuring it out, by the way, but I really like your suggestion. Sure we don't spend the weekend together, but you invited me to play with you and Squirt last time, and that was really fun. Colt or filly you never seemed very interested in insects like I am…"

I felt exposed as I remembered that this pony actually knew firsthand that I was a colt before. After all, he was the one who had told Pestle.

"SUMMER FUNTIME!" dozens of voices sang around us, as their song once more tapped my peripheral awareness.

Spectacle cleared his throat. "You're doing fine River. You being a princess. You being a filly even. I hardly think about it; you're just a good friend.”

My eyes got slightly misty before I managed to summon enough shame to hammer down the sentimentality. "Your friendship has been an asset—no, you've helped me more than that. Our relationship is just where it should be."

I felt a sinking sensation in my stomach. "You know, speaking of 'relationships,' it probably makes sense for me to go somewhere else before any rumors start."

"No problem," he said. "We'll catch up when we catch-up."

I smiled.

He nodded.

From there, I awkwardly navigated my way to the other side of the verdant open field. I imagined the bulk of my time with the "variety sports" activity would be spent here.

As our chaperones finished sculpting the mass of ponies into something orderly, an old mare with a megaphone hailed our attention from a wooden stage.

If there was a compliment I could give to her speech, it would be for its brevity. Though she could've stopped with "Welcome, everypony," and I would have regarded it even better. Afterwards, everyone began to filter their way to the counselors—a perfect opportunity to efficiently line up. So of course, no one did.

I suddenly became conscious of a bunch of eyes on me. For a sweet moment there, I had forgotten all about being the most conspicuous filly within… probably everywhere.

I guess they're all too nervous to strike up a conversation? "If nopony else is talking to her, there must be some etiquette rule?"

"Uhh…."

"Ummmm" I heard from a colt and filly simultaneously.

I stifled the urge to facehoof.

I just had to remark on my good fortune, didn't I? Besides, I need to save my efforts for the friendship students, so I can't just chat with anypony.

I felt a heartstopping chill.

Oh, Celestia, what am I thinking? Am I already turning into the worst kind of royal there is? I don't want to be Alicorn Paragon 2.0 either, but anything but that…

I suddenly felt hot in my fur—an occasional downside to the pony package deal. There had been a lot of bodies crammed together for the now concluded assembly. Both the colts and the fillies had used this as an excuse to "incidentally" touch me. As a human, I probably would have taken issue, but now it felt good. If anything, I wanted more, but asking would make me feel ridiculous.

At some point the crowd of ponies had started to move.

"What's your name, little one?" I heard faintly.

"Pink Plum," a filly answered.

"Tent 23," the adult provided.

Ten minutes had felt like an hour, and I started to get antsy.

Being processed first would have made me uncomfortable, but being last would be equally conspicuous—and I’d have to wait.

After a quarter of the many foals had been taken, I had finally reached the front. If I had been bolder, I probably could have marched closer and gotten preferential treatment—perhaps without even doing anything. Today, that felt like the last thing I wanted to do.

I could hear some rhythmic hoofsteps behind me. For some reason Granite Hammer had been circling behind me for a while. I didn’t trust Annuity’s friends much more than Annuity, so I was somewhat suspicious.

I heard the colt to my side starting to nibble at the grass. On the other side, a filly was absentmindedly combing her mane. Nopony had anything to do, and we were growing restless. A few months ago, my training as a soldier would have kicked in. But now, I was just as anxious as any other foal.

"Name?"

"Wuh, uhhh…" I stammered. "Yeah?"

"River Glade. Of course." The stallion with a clipboard lightly tapped his head with a hoof. "Don't quote me on this, but you'd be pretty hard to lose track of—” he smiled— ”being the only alicorn, I mean."

I sighed as the yellow-coated young stallion quickly scribbled something in his notes. I looked him in the eyes, and he still had a look that suggested he was still waiting for acknowledgment for his "astute" insight, or attempt at humor, or something. I couldn't tell.

I only needed to hear "tent three," and my hooves were already in motion.

No really, I totally want to talk about unwanted, unsolicited attention. With you. Right now.

I found tent three in short order. I estimated about eight foals could be squeezed in.

What's it gonna be? A couple of mini bunk-bed racks? Or are they going to pack us like sardines?

"What about the adult guardian," I murmured. "It's gotta be—WHOA?! What!?"

I froze in place after taking a cautious two steps into the tent. I found myself in a spacious room—literally a room. My jaw dropped, and I felt a rush of data flow into my mind, as my conception of reality itself seemed to be buckling. The inside of the "tent" might have been bigger than my room at the castle, but I couldn't tell given the different organization. Two dozen sleeping bags were spread across a checkered carpeted floor. Two, in particular, stood out as bigger.

I took a few breaths to ready myself to look around more. At least the ceiling actually resembled the inside of a tent—except for the fact that it was eight feet high!

I felt a push behind me.

"Ow! What are you doing gawking in the doorway? You'll catch flies like that," said my favorite bronze filly, Annuity. "Haven't you seen an Expando-Tent before? Bigger on the inside than the outside?"

I whipped my head around. "What did you expect? I walk in here thinking I've got only a dozen steps or so before running out of—”

Annuity had started scribbling on a full-sized clipboard using her magic. "I see. That's good feedback. I'm going to check on the other tents."

"Don't wait for my permission," I said flatly.

I got no answer.

I sighed. Annuity's presence led me to believe I was going to be stuck in a tent full of fillies. The sleeping bags offered me no clues, so I wisely cleared the "doorway" and took a tour around the room.

Didn’t Thaumaturgical say we would be together. Yeah, I suppose Celestia pulled some strings and put me in a tent with colts. I'm sure she could come up with some excuse.

Better than being with a bunch of fill—ies?"

I felt a chill as recollection flashed through my mind: I heard the laughs of Squirt's jeering friends.

Being the only filly is awful… I'll be "the" filly.

"Hey, River!" Came a friendly female voice from the doorway.

I looked towards the head of the tent and found Stardust.

"Hi," I said weakly, as I cleared the way for her to find her designated space.

I suppose it’ll painting hooves, filly gossip, or worse: mahjong!

I stared at the ceiling "I don't know what's worse…"

"What do you mean, River?"

I flinched. Towering over me, as usual, was the third in a line of green griffons.

"Beakington, are you in the right tent?" I asked in disbelief.

"This is three, right?"

I could hardly believe my good fortune. "Oh, nothing."

Of course it’s co-ed. We’re naked basically, so why would it matter?

We then exchanged pleasantries. It wasn't as if we had been apart for a long while, but the familiarity was nice, as I was sure there would certainly be at least some strangers in the tent three.

"Is there anything I can help with? Because, you know…"

I motioned him away from the doorway as I formulated a response. I was hoping he wouldn't mention it, but the feather oath had put me in an awkward spot.

"You helped me a lot, B3. I can't say I understand the significance of your griffin oath, but it served me well… thank you."

He smiled wider than I had expected. "Of course. It's nothing big. Honestly, it's a bit of history that became a joke in the Griffin Southeast. Sometimes it's even a pickup line, but that'll get you slapped nowadays."

I laughed nervously. "I hadn't even thought about local subcultures in Griffin country. I was talking to the zebra—Mindre, that is—and I'm not sure any generalizations are worth their salt anymore…"

He nodded his head, deliberately, as if dissecting what I had just said. "You mean stereotypes? Is that a bad thing?"

I shook my head energetically. "It's stupid now that I say it. But it's because I'm so busy and it's like I need shortcuts.”

“Well, Milady, when it comes to shortcuts, if you’re ever in town, I would fain give you a tour of my neck of the woods. On the ground of course—mustn't ruffle your feathers.”

I slapped him playfully with my practically decorative wing. “Hey, these things are useful!”

"I deserved that," Beakington said, with some pep. "But thanks for taking the time to chat with me. It's easy to look at your status and say that you’re being too good for us—I've heard whispers and wondered if it had started to become true. But talking to you, I don't know what I was thinking. That's not you. You must legitimately be overloaded right now. I suppose there's a difference between not giving people the time of day and not having the time any day.”
"Thank you." I said, feeling completely validated once more. "I wanted to be invisible at first; then, that changed when I got to choose who I wanted to surround myself with. And now, the attention…"

"Well, I'll support you, however, I can, so long as I can cruise to a nice cabinet position." He said with a comically sage expression.

I smiled and nodded my head once.

The interaction left me feeling happy about that friendship, but I needed to focus—that was the first thought that came to mind, but I was a little uncomfortable with it.

To get my mind onto another track, I approached my designated sleeping area. The satchel with my things was tiny compared to what other ponies had brought along. I doubted I needed bits, and those training weights weren't mine anyway.

How quickly must they move to get all this done at a moment's notice. But it'd be easy for me since I don't own much of anything.

This made me curious, so I approached the satchel and pulled it open with my mouth.

I reached in and retrieved something open-ended.

"Oh yeah, I bought this at the hoofball game."

It was a blue foal-sized ballcap with the lettering "Canterlot Nauticals."

It felt silly to think about, but it was probably the only thing I had actually bought for myself that wasn't edible. I smiled faintly and laid it on my pillow.

The next item felt like some thin string. When I had it in front of me, I laughed rather loudly. I then made a conscious effort to dampen my awareness of the judging eyes of others that I had surely conjured.

It was the mask depicting Annuity's face. Jill had given it to me at the birthday party.

There can't be much else left. I thought as I probed the small satchel with my tongue. This time I knew immediately what I had found.

"I guess somepony who doesn't know me that well did the packing."

In a weird way I was grateful that Celestia didn't give me special treatment and had delegated it.

Knowing it was now useless, I absentmindedly played with the ring in my mouth.

What would it even do now?

I did feel nostalgic, but that wouldn't be prudent with ponies around me.

I playfully tossed the ring a short distance above me. Then, I positioned my horn underneath.

"Ringer!" I said.

However, my cheer was drowned out by the sudden sound of trumpets cutting in from nowhere.

I suddenly felt a cocoon of latex engulfing me following a quick magical buzz across my body.

Thinking quickly, I used my magic to jettison the ring onto my sleeping bag.

"What was that?" A filly said in a rustic accent.

"Trumpets? I didn't see that under the musical activities grouping," a Canterlot colt commented.

The unwanted garb vanished instantly. And I took a few breaths in relief. Unlike the ring I was accustomed to, apparently this one was outfitted with my superhero sidekick outfit.

Did I ever have a ring like this?

It seemed absurd enough to be plausible. I had assumed so many disguises that even I lost track.

I felt near the bottom of my bag. “Huh, I guess I still have this pendant from Bubble Bauble.”

Well… I think that's everything.

"Hey." Said one of my classmates, whom I couldn't place by voice alone. When I turned, I saw green and gold.

"Hi, Gilded." I said, growing the slightest bit impatient.

For a selfish moment, I hoped she wouldn't assume we were friends now. Then again, the entirety of Annuity's former contingent were baffling to me lately. They were playing nice, but even when waiting on me, Pish and Posh were still a bit passive aggressive, so I was getting mixed messages.

Gilded Acres opened her mouth to speak, paused and then spoke with shaky confidence: "I… wanted to let you know that your idea with the supply chain—it worked well."

I smiled. I had put thought into that suggestion, and it was the only time at school I had thought my "princess" advice was worth its salt.

"I mean, I had to modify it a little… but it basically worked."

"That's good," I said flatly, trying to hide my joy. Unfortunately, my wings channeled the happiness and whipped up a mini cyclone. My unwanted twister familiar darted across the room, scattering my tentmates' things.

"Sorry! Not used to these things yet," I said preemptively.

"That's all," Gilded said, before I had turned my attention back to her.

"Glad I could help. It can be surprisingly hard to feel useful."

Not knowing how to respond, the earth pony departed—even though that entailed taking all of five paces to reach her sleeping area.

I scanned the room until I found a clock.

Ten more minutes to our first activity. I'm already done unpacking, so it's either get into more random conversations or shuffle my things around in an attempt to look busy.

The latter was fairly appealing…

"Thank you, Jill," I heard spoken with utmost sincerity.

This voice I did recognize and my eyes confirmed it: Stardust.

"I'm so glad I had your perspective on this," she continued.

"Anyone could have told you that. It just took an outside set of eyes," the minotaur said.

Well, this one isn't random. Technically we are friends—I think

"What are you guys talking about?" I asked. I was close enough to them that I practically felt I was part of the conversation already.

"Oh, hi, River," Stardust greeted, zoning in on me. "Well, I suppose you should be one of the first to know."

More alicorn stuff. Great…

"Because you're a founding member of the Anti-Annuity Alliance!"

"Oh?" I remarked in happy surprise.

"We're disbanding," Jill said, cutting straight to the point.

I looked the pair of them over thoughtfully. We admittedly had not done much of anything lately—or ever—but Stardust didn't seem like one to wave the white flag.

"As you know, we've pivoted towards pranking Annuity now that she's on the defensive," Stardust explained unhelpfully.

I nodded, interested. Then my brain caught up. "Wait, we did?" I asked, completely confused.

Stardust shuffled her hooves absentmindedly. "Yeah, Annuity's friends started rethinking their position once you ascended and all that."

"Talk about us like we're not here, why don't you?" Gilded murmured, just out of earshot of the others.

"I hadn't noticed," I said flatly. It wasn't entirely true, though, because I vaguely recalled Annuity accusing me of stealing her friends back at the hoofball game.

"Well, this is embarrassing, but I was really into it—Annuity has bullied us for so long I mean." I nodded. "Jill here really showed what we—I was actually doing. She said that we're being exactly like Annuity!"

Jill nodded. "I've known other Annuities. It's never fun. Fortunately, I grew thicker skin, but when she isolates you socially it's rough."

I motioned her to continue while I pondered. Jill probably put on the dumb act in self-defense.

"The Citrus twins are really into it, but I didn’t feel right kicking them out of the Anti-Annuity Alliance. So that's why we're disbanding instead!"

"I get it," I said through a smile. Honestly it was a relief to have one less superfluous obligation in my life.

Stardust replied with an affirmative little stomp of her hoof.

I looked around, and the only other pony from my school in the tent was Clever Theorem. Officially neutral in the conflict, she was clearly sticking near us to eavesdrop.

Stardust assumed a more narrow stance with her hooves. "Ummmm… that's all… I guess."

"I think it's the right decision." I said simply.

“Me too,” Stardust said, with a twinge of regret.

I took a moment to make sure the conversation was over before retreating a few steps to my sleeping area. The foals I didn't know were clearly staring, but fortunately none of them braved approaching me.

After a few minutes of absentmindedly shuffling the positioning of my few possessions in the small storage cube each of us was provided, an old mare strolled in and started handing out itineraries. I accepted mine with my mouth and spread out the small sheet in front of me. It was color-coded and reader-friendly, almost to a fault.

I knew what my activities were, but my first scheduled session threw me for a loop.

I sighed.

"Well, this is awkward."

Rainbow Dash alighted on a lectern. It was clearly out of place, both for her and for its placement outside.

"Welcome to Stunt Flying, everypony! Time to get fired up! Let's get those wings warmed up and ready to go. Trust me: we're going to do some awesome stuff today!"

The foals cheered.

Is she going to teach us stretches? That would be pretty useful.

"But first we have to get through… the boring part," Rainbow said with a sigh.

My peers looked at each other in concern.

Rainbow reached behind the lectern and placed the first of a series of posters for us to see on an easel. "That's right. We're going to have to go over the rules of the wind."

Literally, everypony around me groaned.

"Part 1," Rainbow read stiffly, "the Right of Way."

It makes sense. There are probably some ponies who are total beginners like me.

I reasoned that since Equestria's school system was deliberately designed to accommodate different levels of ability in one classroom, this had to be the case.

The basic principles made sense. If two ponies were flying towards a direct collision, the pony traveling North was to yield, while East gave way to West. Rainbow was running through the material quickly, but halfway through it, she realized she was going too fast and started taking her time.

Rainbow's bored countenance soured into disgust. "Now, for the really fun part," she said caustically, flipping the page. "Chapter 2: Clouds 101. This is a cumulus cloud... They are highly magical and a weather pony's best friend. They aren't very sturdy, so you can plow right through them most of the time. Just make sure they aren't charged with lightning first."

While initially optimistic about the material, boredom quickly threatened to overtake me.

I smirked. I still have my vigilance if nothing else. This presentation is no match for me.

The minutes dragged on as Rainbow droned over the required material.

Is she joking? We're not going to retain all of this.

As I darted between the purple clouds, I could hear a faint voice calling out to me. A storm was brewing. "We… desperate need…your help… House… probe and…"

An electric jolt shot through me, and my eyes sprung wide open. Slightly disoriented, I looked around at Rainbow's captive audience. They had had fared no better than I had in their efforts to stay awake.

Rainbow flipped to the last page of her presentation.

"And finally, this is a Yakyakistani cloud," Rainbow said, slapping the page with her pointer for emphasis. "You can identify them by the horns on top. They don't come around here too often, but you'll have a bad day if you forget about them. So always look before you land."

The two other foals who were awake nodded wearily.

"But enough of that!" Rainbow yelled. "Let's get to flying!"

Two thirds of the class snapped awake and voiced groggy enthusiasm.

She motioned upward. "All right, everypony, let's fly up there in an orderly fashion. You'll have plenty of time to go wild soon."

Zephyr Zap accelerated to a gallop with a very short runway and rocketed up to our destination. Those that followed simply couldn't match the enthusiasm. I looked to the back of our open-air classroom, and I saw "Alibi Align" going around slapping the stragglers awake. When we made eye-contact he saluted me.

I turned away. I honestly didn't know what sort of relationship I was supposed to have with this former foe, or even what I wanted.

I turned back around, and Rainbow Dash looked ready to take off at supersonic speed.

"Rainbow, wait!" I pleaded, dashing towards the lectern.

"Hi, River!" she greeted. "I'm so happy you signed up for my class! You're going to have an awesome time. Refine that flying you've been working on."

I shook my head as I fixed my gaze on some leaves blowing in the wind. "That's just it: I don't have that much experience flying. And besides, that looks high up there!"

The athletic pegasus mare smirked. "Don't sell yourself short. Half of flying is confidence. Let's go!"

Before I could react, she latched onto my neck with her teeth and launched through the top of our destination. She then put on the brakes to stop just inches above the wide cloud before setting me down.

I felt a moment of panic as the cloud depressed under my small body.

Good to know. Cloudwalking apparently takes no effort or ability.

The rest of the flock of ponies quickly alighted around me.

"Okay, now that everypony's here, let's get cracking. We're going to start small. She clapped her hooves."

I flinched as several rings of fire flared to life in a pattern curving upward.

"The name of the game is to fly through the hoops, loop around to change direction, fly back through the hoops, and land with style. One pony at a time, but don't form a line 'cause that would be lame."

This… is… insane!

"Me! Me! Me!" Zephyr Zap demanded. She took a running start and buzzed through the hoops effortlessly. She couldn't quite achieve the 180 turn Rainbow had in mind, but the instructor couldn't have been happier.

"That's going to be a hard act to follow!" Rainbow lauded. "Who's next?"

I took a few steps toward her.

"I'm sorry I wasn't clearer before. I've never flown before, and I signed up for this class by mistake," I whispered. "I'm scared just being up here."

Rainbow laughed. "I know you better than that! You can handle it."

Before I had formulated a response, I felt a strong push from behind. For a prolonged moment, I flailed at the edge of the cloud with my front hooves, in a desperate attempt to arrest my momentum. But I could not. In that final taxing moment, I caught glimpses of both amused and bored expressions—parting gestures and a prelude to my slowly developing doom. My eyes went wide as gravity forced me into a front-flip into the open skies.

I screamed and thrashed around with my four legs in a desperate attempt to do something.

Wait. You have wings, idiot.

As my wings extended, I became aware of the subtle dance between my feathers and the surroundings. I wasted a second admiring this, before it occurred to me I was dropping.

Now, I screamed and thrashed around with my six appendages in a desperate attempt to do something.

In a moment of calm, I started flapping rhythmically. Suddenly terror was replaced with certainty. This was where I was meant to be.

Of course that's what Rainbow had in mind. I was born for this!

However, in defiance of my confidence, my perfect flying instincts angled my right wing a few degrees too flat. I started flipping wing over wing, corkscrewing my way to certain death.

Please… I begged for my life.

In hopes of bottling my scattered confidence I stretched my wings taut once more.

I felt exhilaration. My velocity started to shift subtly as I settled into a perfect glide. Now, all I had to do was to get my head in front of me and my death plunge would be aborted.

Oh, there's the ground. Please not the horn…

I lifted my head to respect my own dying wish.

My legs slammed into the ground. I could feel my bones cracking as they absorbed my tremendous momentum. Then, I bounced up several times my height. My surprised expression crashed into the ground once more, and my head hop resulted in another few feet of airtime. Two mini-hops more, and my barrel finally hit the earth. Only now did I feel the pain, and it was underwhelming.

Rainbow landed quietly behind me.

"Not bad, little gal, I've seen—" she snickered. And then laughed. "Okay, that was pretty bad, but you got the hard part out of the way. It only gets easier from here."

Zephyr Zap landed in front of me. "Wow, River, you fly like a moron."

"Thanks. It was my first time," I said weakly, through a wave of disorientation. I was strangely dizzy. "I forgot you had a caustic side…" She had been so nice that I had forgotten my somewhat negative first impression of her.

"Oh, it's nothing personal. I just always wanted to say that."

I took dozens of recovery breaths in a short minute.

"Okay, how am I not dead?" I asked stiffly. "I'm hoping it's not that flowers and magic protect pony from harm."

"That's part of it," Rainbow conceded. "But there are a few reasons. For one, you weigh almost nothing already, so the impact of your collision won't be much. Also, the magic of flight reduces your weight a bit in the air. Without that, none of us would be able to fly."

"Hmm… it hadn't occurred to me," I replied, as my head throbbed.

She flexed her wings. "Yeah, these tiny things? Power isn't exactly their forte. Anyway, your terminal velocity is also very low—aerodynamics and stuff. And finally, there's evolution."

"Evolution?" I echoed.

Now she's just stringing me along.

She laughed. "Do you know how often pegasus parents drop their foals? It's all the time!"

I tried to formulate a response, but I couldn't escape the mental imagery.

"Besides, they don't call me Rainbow Crash for nothing. I would've died aaaaages ago if we weren't built tough."

Zap hopped in place. "Wow, Rainbow Dash, you're so knowledgeable!"

Rainbow struck a pose. "It's what I live for!"

I heard a little buzzing, and I turned to face a little orange pegasus.

Rainbow smiled. "Heya, Scootaloo. How's your practice going?"

Scootaloo hopped in place. "Your tips were great! I’ll be flying in no time!"

I looked between the two pegasi and waited a moment so as to avoid interrupting. "So, Scootaloo, you were off doing easy stuff?" I asked, trying my best to conceal my annoyance.

"She's in my other class," Rainbow explained. "I'm glad I only have one unit of that. It's double the amount of lecturing…"

"Are you sure I'm okay to be in this class?" I asked outright, unsure what I wanted at this point.

"I thought you'd do okay," Rainbow explained. "After all, Twilight tells me you're doing great with magic."

I staggered backward. "I am?"

"You sure are! Alicorn magic isn't easy to control. So I figured you could do this too. After all, you were brave enough to sign up!"

I froze. Somehow I felt guilt for outsourcing my activity choices.

I could hear some clamoring above us.

"We should probably go back…" Rainbow said. "Do you want a lift?"

After what felt like an eternity of deliberation, I nodded.

"I knew you were tough!" she lauded. "See you later, Scootaloo."

"Bye, Rainbow Dash!"

With that, the blue pegasus kicked off the ground and we instantly rocketed back to the rest of the class atop the cloud.

I shivered. Luna had been so careful by comparison.

That stuff about dropping foals seems awfully relevant right now…

"There she is!" one of the foals said.

"Was that really your first time? For mine, I couldn't even get my wings extended!" a filly added.

Windy Skies did a double-take, looking somewhere off in the distance. "Did anyone else see a flying unicorn?"

"Flying is a bit generous," teased my other classmate, Mortar Strike, pointing at me.

"No, really! It was a unicorn flying around…"

The changeling landed, and I accosted him. "Did you do anything funny to Windy?" I whispered.

"No, why?" he replied, puzzled.

I glared at him.

"What, the play? You need to learn to let things go. It was, like, weeks ago or something. It was just a sleeping potion anyway," he whispered quickly. "I put her in the broom closet during the play and took her place for a bit. I then turned into a filly version of Maniacal Laughter to give the real version time to take some readings. That's all I was told, and then…"

"You turned back into Windy to escape," I finished.

While we whispered off to the side, Rainbow had started coaching a filly who was clearly nervous.

"The nefarious device, Foals' Play, that can block adults' magic seems like it would be useful for you bad guys," I probed.

"I see what you're doing, but I really don't know. I would tend to agree with you, though…"

"Uh-huh," I said, unconvinced. With this colt, I couldn't tell which conclusion he was trying to herd me towards.

However, my train of thought was quickly derailed as a screaming colt penetrated through the cloud below us. Behind him a trail of fire dangled from his head, menacingly encroaching upon his coat.

The rest of the class looked at him weirdly.

"Has he really not seen faerie fire before?" Alibi chided.

"Yeah, it sure would take a real idiot to think that's actual fire…" I said snidely.

Why does nopony ever tell me these things?

Diane took a deep breath. It was a strange thing: knowing she had the capability to return to where she needed to be, if not the knowledge of how. Mental worlds were strange like that.. She had to approach it like she had all the time in the world—which she didn't! The probe would be returning to House Keeper and her brother Crafty in a matter of days!

Another deep breath.

If she failed, the backup plan was always to try and connect with House directly once more. However, she was rapidly reaching a point of diminishing returns. After all, the filly would forget 95% of what she was told in the slumbering world.

Finally, it crystalized: clarity of purpose and effortless connection with the unseen.

Her surroundings filled out like a watercolor painting, murkiness gradually coalescing into form. It would surely be a sight to see, were her destination not so monochrome. Back in Aron/Alice’s head—or something like that.

"Welcome back!" Auburn greeted her. The moment after, Diane could tell the filly regretted showing that much outward emotion.

"You can be happy. You can be however. No need to conceal."

"Right," Auburn said faintly.

The Rhod remembered her purpose and pointed toward a filament that flexed in the space above them. "Do you mind if I use that?"

The tendril descending from the ceiling seemed to vibrate subtly and slowly descend.

"You can try," said the child. "Your brother tends to have an active mind, though, so it can be hard to hear us. Of course, do it while he's asleep and he'll probably forget…"

Diane chuckled; the filly hardened her expression in response.

"Oh, it's nothing," Diane assured her. She reached towards one of the soft walls to lean against but pulled back quickly after weighing the risk of the gesture.

"They should be safe," said Auburn. "But don't ask me what they're made of—or worse—what they represent."

Diane rubbed her hands together as if summoning the courage to act. "So… are you alone here, or are there other emotions running around?"

"There were, but the lawyers came and chased them out with a cease and desist," Auburn said flatly.

"Come again?"

"Just a joke. No, the only other pseudo-beings in here are the odd, brown stallion, that procrastination monkey, and the Panic Monster that scares off the monkey at the last minute."

"I—I can't tell if you're joking…"

"I hadn't seen the monkey in years," Auburn explained, ignoring her. "But after his long absence, I’m seeing him occasionally again. Maybe there's more impulsivity because of the whole de-age thing. I don't know. Just because I’m one of them doesn't mean I understand the metaphysics of this whole thing."

Diane took a deep breath. "Speaking of procrastination: I think I've finally decided what I need to say. Strange as it is, I've gotten good practice at this whole dream communication thing. In fact, I know I can do it."

Diane locked eyes with the filly, who seemed to be enjoying the moment.

"I just want you to know how much I respect you," Auburn said, entranced by the moment.

Author's Note

I had fun writing this one.

Chapter 47

I blinked awake.

A vague weight of pressing importance settled onto my mind as I was quickly reminded that I was not in my own bed. It was just before dawn—I could apparently sense that now—add that to the collection, right next to the donut card.

Beakington was preening in the corner. I’d have asked him to teach me if it weren’t completely awkward to do so. Asking anyone was awkward; I’d hoped that Star would start that conversation for me.

For the rest, Gilded Acres was yawning to my left, and Stardust was combing her mane. Notably absent from the wakened was our chaperone. He lay in a bigger sleeping bag by the front of the tent—as if he would be able to do something if a bear came around. Gossip had informed me that he was a young widower who wanted to find the perfect stepmother for his son. The foal had been placed with us despite being younger than most of the group (except me).

Sorta like Rough Rider, but for dating. Actually… was it Brass Ring that had that issue?

“Gah, it’s too early to keep them straight,” I murmured.

I had my activity schedule set, but the morning wasn’t anything that hard. First, I had the activity Jill had picked for me. After lunch was Variety Sports. I was thankful that I didn’t have to play the part of Lua, but I still had that ridiculous competition with Blue Horizon going.

What was I supposed to be doing again for my challenge? There were a couple of things she “ordered” me to do…I think

I scratched my head. What was after that? Oh, yes, it was something with animals. It’s probably with Fluttershy; that would be predictable.

I felt the psychic nagging of obligation again.

What’s with this? It’s kinda like when you forget what you were going to say, in spite of still wanting to say it..

It was quiet. I then noticed some of the alicorn starting up again as more ponies woke. I felt a sort of helplessness, as no reasonable (or unreasonable) action would remedy the fact that I was “special” wherever I went.

The stallion groaned as he stretched himself awake. “All right, everypony, it’s time for breakfast, so let’s make our way in an orderl—”

“Yay!” A few foals cheered, dashing past our appointed guardian, as he desperately tried to catch wrangle them.

Seeing my chance, I gave a less convincing cheer and ran for it. He made more of a calculated attempt to grab me, but it was trivial to avoid with a well-timed jump.

So, that’s what my trained reflexes are good for now? I never would’ve thought.

“Good morning, River” a tiny voice greeted from the shadow of the tent.

I slowly turned my neck and then body to face the shyest colt I knew.

“Hey, Pinion,” I said weakly to the young unicorn. “You need something?”

“Oh, well, I was wondering—you see, if—umm… if you’re not busy—and it’s not too inconvenient! And you’re okay with it—what I wanted to ask is if—if you might be okay with sitting next to—next to m—me at lunch!?”

I looked into his eyes, and he shivered in response.

“I’m sorry. I have some obligations to some other ponies at lunchtime. And probably tomorrow, too,” I stately plainly, as if handing out a sentencing.

“Oh…”

“What are you two doing?” Alibi said softly, sneaking in behind the unaware Little Pinion.

The unicorn sprung up double his height and dashed off, wailing, “Nothing don’t worry about it it’s nothing. Maybe later like you said—bye!”

I made eye contact with the changeling.

Well, that’s a marginal upgrade in ponies I’d want to interact with.

“What’s with him?”

“Oh, he’s lovestruck,” I said, rather carelessly.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

I raised my brow at him, but he genuinely didn’t seem to know.

“It’s when you really like someone else. You want to get them to notice you. You act silly, or try to act cool. You want them to like you back.”

He put a hoof to his chin. “Oh yeah, I might have heard about that before. So what you’re saying is that when this happens, someone else is influencing a pony’s behavior? Manipulating them even?”

I shot him another weird look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He smirked. “Oh, nothing,” he said, trotting off.

Wha—You know what? I think I can enjoy the luxury of not caring.

Once our guardian had located all of the runaways (and scolded us for having the gall to venture five feet without adult supervision), he woke the rest of his charges, and we made our way to the mess hall. Our tent was among the first group to eat, while the others had free time. It then dawned on me that I would have to get creative if I wanted to avoid meeting my fans for the next forty minutes.

I gulped down a spoonful of porridge and let the mediocre taste seep deep into my tastebuds.

Well, whatever. That’s future me’s problem.

“~Hey, River Glade~” I turned to my left and found myself face-to-face with multiple admirers.

Or now-me…

I tried hard—I really did—to feign interest, but every fake smile just sapped energy that I needed for other things. Still, I eventually waded my way through some of the monotony.

“So, do you have bodyguards? What’s it like being a VIP?” asked a beautiful filly wearing a huge pair of glasses.

I sighed. “Sometimes it’s like being a prisoner. A pampered one for sure, but everypony’s got expectations—”

“I’m a Gemini! What’s your sign?” asked a different filly.

“I don—”

I paused.

Actually, I really don’t know. How would I even begin to convert my birthday to a different dimension’s calendar?

“Oh, River!” A male voice hailed.

I was expecting any other colt but him, but when I turned my head, I instead saw Alibi Align with his foreleg locked with a green pegasus filly I had never seen before.

He’s annoying enough. I should have his voice down by now.

Then again, with him, it wasn’t like it would do me much good if I really needed to identify him.

“What’s up,” I uttered, letting loose all of the disdain I had been holding back from my interaction with the gaggle of fillies.

“What—what’s up? I’ll tell you: I got to talking to Cloudy Vine, and—”

“It’s ‘Cloudy Pine’” the filly said, showing far more patience than was deserved.

Alibi chuckled and dragged her foreleg slightly closer. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“No—”

“But I digress. River, it turns out that Cloudy Pine and me get along real good, you know.”

“That’s nice,” I said, flatly.

He scratched his neck. “That’s all? You’re not going to ask what I see in her or—”

The fillies to my side giggled, as if that was a legitimate contribution to the conversation.

He started to get restless.

“Is she from Canterlot Second or something?” I asked, patiently inviting him to elaborate on his stupid charade.

The peripheral crowd seemed to tighten around us. Even though the dining hall was designed for gatherings of extended farm pony families, the sheer number of foals overwhelmed it.

Preparing all the food must be quite an ordeal.

Ah… I’m spacing out again.

“Uhh… ummm…. What do you mean, this is Cloudy Pine, you know her from—” Alibi said.

“Hello!” The filly said. “My name is Cloudy Pine. It’s a pleasure to meet you, princess-in-training.”

“Umm… yeah,” I stammered.

I’m sure you’re a nice pony. Please don’t ask me to remember you, though. This many ponies at the camp would be impossible. How… how does Celestia do it?

I nodded to myself absentmindedly. That’d be a good one to ask.

“Wait wait wait wait wait wait!” the changeling child clamored. “You said you were good friends with River Glade.”

Cloudy Pine tossed her head playfully. “No, I said I’m best friends with River Shade,” she corrected.

“Who the pony is River Shade?” Alibi shouted.

“I am!” declared the filly who just inquired about my zodiac sign. She then hoof-bumped her best friend; then they cantered off together.

Foiled, the changeling looked around, as if scanning for an escape route.

“Well, I guess I’m single now...” he said with a grin.

“He’s handsome...”

“Yeah, but super weird,” came the deliberating whispers.

He opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing.

“Break-ups are hard!” he declared before galloping away.

“Okay, everypony! Time to get to your first activity today!” a camp counselor announced.

This even got my throng of admirers to break up.

Well that was “productive.” Not a lick of progress.

I felt relief—then guilt. I should have been working on Rough Rider or one of those other exchange students.

Why didn’t I break away—make some excuse? I—I’m just trying to avoid it.

I slammed a hoof on the wood floor. The dramatic impact was less than I had hoped for, leaving me looking ridiculous.

As it turned out, I didn’t need to go anywhere for our first activity. Near the cafeteria was a small outdoor dining area that fit our needs perfectly. Checkerboards covered the array of low tables, making me feel like I had been invited to the least ambitious picnic ever.

About a third of the ponies were my classmates. The activity hadn’t filled up, despite my “distinguished” participation. I didn’t know if that was because most of the class had locked in their choices, the activity itself deterred most of the Canterlot First class from participating, or maybe I was just not as popular as I thought I was.

God I hope it’s the last one.

Spectacle stepped to my side and straightened his glasses. Beakington took the other side and acknowledged me with a small smile. This did a lot for my mood, even if it was kind of awkward. I truthfully didn’t know how to follow-up on the “great friend moments” I had shared with each of them.

I heard a soft rattle. Dropping a large green bag on the biggest table was Iron Jill. She looked our way, and a chill seemed to pass through the activity participants. Without a word of input, the foals not from Canterlot First sorted themselves by retreating a few steps.

I smiled at the minotaur, feeling a strange sort of kinship. She halfheartedly nodded at me before taking a confident step toward us. The other foot, however, had decided to be less aggressive as it was set down.

“I, IRON—uhh….”

It’s okay, Jill. Ponies will think weird things about you; ponies can be silly like that. Be yourself: be the friend I’ve come to know, and you’ll be fine.

“I mean… I’m Iron Jill. Welcome to chess.”

“...she’s our instructor?” came a whisper from the side.

I was one discourteous comment away from rushing to her defense. Fortunately, a youngish stallion with a Luna-colored coat trotted up from behind Jill and clapped his forehooves.

“Thank you, Jill,” he said. He turned to us. “Iron Jill here will be my assistant for this class. She’s a top junior player, despite her youth.”

I was momentarily confused, but then I remembered that she was younger than every other foal in our class. This dynamic perplexed me: She would be an adult much quicker than rest of us would. Is she supposed to get a job or go to college with much less school experience?

Come to think of it: is that why the stereotype is that minotaurs are dumb?

The instructor continued on. “Chess was invented in the Far East. While the rules and mechanics have shifted through the ages, three core principles have stood the test of time.”

He scanned his charges, as if daring us to flinch from the threat of a lecture. I could tell there was some unease in the air…

“No, I’m just messing with you all. I do love to talk about historical stuff, but I wouldn’t want to take anything away from actually playing!” He announced with a bright smile, dooming his attempted gag with premature timing.

Still, a few foals did sigh in relief.

“Aren’t I a fun teacher?” he asked, gesturing to his ear with a forehoof.

And self-aware too.

He was met with dead silence. His ears started to droop, like pony ears tended to do, but he quickly propped them back up. “Quick poll: raise your hand if you generally know how to play the game.”

A small majority of hooves raised in response.

He nodded patiently. “That’s just enough to call for at least a little crash course. For you all starting out, it may be uphill at first, but I’m sure most everyone here will be nice to the learners. Remember: sportsmanship benefits us all.”

I suppose that even here, war—be it real or game—has no shortage of rules. Seriously... were the mythical Arbiter race that instituted the Accords a bunch of ponies?

“We’ll do a ladder later on that will help with the pairings, but no matter what, don’t get discouraged. He brought his front hooves together, as if ready to clap, and I suppressed a groan. Instead he gestured oddly with them. “As for the how-to-play portion, don’t completely zone out if you think you know all the rules, though. I’ll throw in some more obscure tidbits for you. And if I’m going too fast for you, don’t worry. We’ll all be patient and supportive to help you learn.”

The newbies among us nodded warily.

With that, we gathered around the demonstration board. It was about the height of an adult mare and rendered the eight-by-eight board with a birds-eye-view from the white player’s perspective. As our instructor explained the rules of the game, he transferred felt representations of the pieces between the pockets each square on the board had.

The crash course wasn’t anything too surprising. As expected, the rules were the same barring some name changes and the shape of the pieces. It would take some time to get used to the pawns—rather than the knights—being pony-shaped. The teacher had taken his time explaining how the knights move. I got the sense he was exaggerating a bit about the “tricky mover.” He explained the knight “hop” in three different ways: two squares then one, one square lateral and one square diagonal away, and the eight-square “flower pattern.” I hadn’t encountered the last one before, and I also learned that knights change the color of square they’re on every move.

“Now, an important thing about knights is that they cannot do in three moves what they can in two and vice-versa. This becomes important in certain positions when you may need to waste a move in order to win.”

Jill read the room accurately and jumped in: “This is actually a very technical point, so don’t worry too much about it. Just count the pattern light dark light dark light when trying to figure out how to get your knight somewhere.”

She’s much better at this than he is. I thought.

To my side, Alibi was carefully studying the demonstration board, nodding at periodic intervals. I suspected he was probably trying to look cool.

It’s just the rules. Nopony will anoint you king for learning the rules quickly. Or he thinks he’s a hotshot for knowing all this.

Speaking of rules, the instructor started explaining the history of the pawn’s initial two-square push. In his words, they started out the game excited and could move up to two squares, but on only their first move.

“But, in order to avoid changing the game too much, they made it so if a pawn tries to run by one of your pawns, you can capture… like this!”

Using black’s adjacent pawn, he “captured” an empty square behind the pawn that had just moved. Then he removed the white pawn.

He paused for dramatic effect. Somehow it worked.

“So—this move is referred to using the Prench phrase, ‘en passant.’” It’s a move that breaks the rules—legally, in a way. The most important points are that the enemy pawn has to move two spaces next to one of your pawns to do this. Second: you can only do it immediately after your opponent makes the move. No exceptions!”

I looked around the semi-circle of foals. Most notably, Clever Theorem seemed enamored with his explanation. At first, I thought she was the exception, but even the foals who were clearly only here to curry favor with me were drawn in.

They don’t think he’s too eccentric? Come to think of it, all of my teachers are eccentric. Is that just what works for ponies? Has Ms. Fizzle been a “great” teacher this whole time?!

“In the heat of battle it can be easy to forget the details, so if you need clarification on en passant in particular, call one of us over.”

“You sure he’s not making this last one up?” I whispered to my side, forgetting that it wasn’t Beakington or Spectacle seated there.

Alibi gave a forced chuckle. “You didn’t know something so trivial? Well, that’s to be expected. Matters are rarely as they seem in life, in games, in anything! Knowing such secrets is second nature for me.”

He got enough weird looks that I felt reassured that I wasn’t crazy.

“Noted: that means your spirit told you and you had no idea,” I posited on a whim.

“Wha—that’s not—I meant—I mean, well, I didn’t not know it before I was told—and beyond that knowledge—its source— how can you ascertain?”

I locked my gaze with his and gave him a predator’s grin—as much as this cute face could manage anyway.

Having won that interaction, I was ready to just have some fun as the teacher started pairing us together. After that trouncing, I doubted Alibi would have the courage to bother me for the rest of the day.

Of course, that was ruined when we were paired together.

“It seems the hour for me to shine is upon us!” he declared, earning snickers all-around.

Make up your mind: do you want to be popular with the non-me fillies, or not?

During the pairing process, Jill had set-up the pieces on each of sixteen boards—four on each table. I could tell she liked the symmetry, as there were only thirty of us in the class.

I felt a pull of dread as I rounded the tables to take black on board seven. Alibi hopped to his spot, donning a broad smirk.

“Dealing with one master tactician would already be a tall task, but two?”

I just shook my head. I had the feeling that he would trounce me, because that would be the most awkward outcome all around.

Across from me, he adjusted his pieces two at a time, moving towards the center of his army. I was entranced by the apparent confidence and skill with which he did so that I lost track of time.

He looks confident...

“Checkmate!” I heard to my left.

I flinched in surprise, and my eyes darted over in morbid curiosity.

Windy Skies had crushed Mortar Strike in one minute flat. The colt, who fancied himself a tough guy, was blushing up a storm. Windy, for her part, was trying her best not to laugh, or smile too much.

Jill walked over to us. “Ah, the four move checkmate—or Scholar’s mate—that’s the oldest trick in the book. Everypony, come over here and see.”

The class complied.

“I won’t explain all the moves, but just recognize the queen and bishop checkmate on f7 for future reference.”

“Ah, I see,” Alibi said, trying his best to sound detached and esoteric. He waited a second and then proceeded to push the third pawn from my left forward one square. “Flexibility is the name of the game. I maintain my options to expand on two potential fronts.”

I looked around. No one else was commentating their moves. I scanned the static battlefield of Mortar’s revenge game against Windy. Each player had moved the pawn in front of their king two spaces.

I suppose that looks good. If Alibi does the same thing that’s sorta the same thing, right?

Rather than second-guessing myself, I proceeded to copy.

The changeling snorted. "You may try to take the center, but on the king’s wing, the genesis of my strategy can now take form.”

Is it bad that I already expect this from him at this point?

He pushed the pawn in front of his knight past the less ambitious pawn he had moved on move one.

He may be overconfident, but that guardian spirit of his may know a lot of things.

I looked at his impressive string of pawns pointing to my left flank.

How do I deal with this?

I took another look.

He even gave his king an escape route. That’s kind of smart. I suppose I can give a check. That’s always good, right?

“Check,” I said, with wavering confidence as I made my move with my queen/general.

Alibi put a hoof to his chin.

After a few seconds and a grimace, his face slid downward, obscuring his snout. The eyes that remained trained on me spoke of internal betrayal.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, completely innocent. “I get the check is annoying, but it’s like the teacher said: you can get out of check by moving your king, taking my queen, or—you know, blocking with something… oh…”

I had just won the game.

Jill walked by to confirm what I had just figured out and chuckled. “Oh, okay, everypony come over here and take a look.”

Alibi went pale as the rest of the class quickly converged on our board.

“This is one that’s known as the Fool’s Mate.”

“Fool’s Mate…?” Alibi muttered as his self-esteem tumbled another notch.

“Oh, yeah,” said Jill. “It’s called that because you have to be a total moron to walk into that one.”

The changeling closed his eyes, perhaps to conceal tears.

I couldn’t decide whether to feel sorry for him or just to appreciate that he might be inclined to talk to me a little less because of it.

She waved away the other students. “Now quit goofing around and play an actual game,” Jill chided, motioning at us.

We did just that. From what I could tell the changeling and I were of equal merit when he wasn’t trying to cheat by consulting with a disembodied spirit. Unfortunately, with his confidence shattered, he missed a threat to his bishop, and it was all downhill from there. Once I consummated my win, I could tell he was grateful to move on to his next opponent.

For my next match, I took on Skywatcher. The position of the sun above us made his silver coat give off a blinding glare.

“Good luck,” I said, extending a hoof, while shielding my eyes with another.

“Yeah…” he said, pretending to study the pieces instead.

Why am I only getting colts that recently tried to hit on me? Will it be Little Pinion next?

Fortunately, the unicorn did not allow our (lack of a) relationship to impede his play. I was in the game the whole time, but he managed to stay one step ahead and take the victory. We were to record our moves for this game as we were taught; he seemed to have trouble with that part of it, so perhaps I was a little distracted by trying to help him.

Our game was the last to finish, and from there, all of us then gathered around the demonstration board as the stallion and Jill gave practice pointers. I could tell Jill was getting flustered by the more egregious beginner mistakes. She nearly had a mental breakdown when one side’s queen decided to have a picnic with two threatening unmoved enemy pawns for nearly a dozen moves, both players blissfully unaware that the game could be decided instantly and decisively.

I was rather interested in the lesson. On Rhod, I was praised for showing an interest in chess at first—probably because it imitated battle and fostered strategic thinking. However, dozens of hours later, I found the opposite reaction from my parents, and it was then lumped into the same “idle diversions” category as books.

I refocused and examined the starting position depicted on the demonstration board. Jill moved up the pawn in front of the knight on the left one square.

“Ah, pawn b3. This one’s called the Iguana,” Jill explained. “It’s an acceptable way to play, if unorthodox.”

“I’d have thought it would be called Beakington’s Opening,” Spectacle remarked.

The griffin known as “B3” gave his friend a weird look; then the realization dawned on him. “Oh, haha. Very funny that one,” he said sarcastically.

I was somewhat disappointed when the lesson ended, but “Variety Sports” sounded promising, too. The opportunity to exercise my mind and then my body. What more could I ask for?

Still, I needed a break, so I parked myself under a tree to be alone for a while—even if I still had onlookers.

Then, approaching me like a heat-seeking missile was Alibi—with Raspberry Citrus touching him fur-to-fur.

“Oh, hey, River, I didn’t expect to see you here!”

Liar…

“It turns out that me and Raspberry Citrus get along real well,” he said, hugging the Earth Pony tighter.

She blushed, but I could tell it was from discomfort. What with the grimace and all.

Maybe if I don’t acknowledge it, he’ll stop this silly act…

Unfortunately, I had noticed that ponies were different from humans in this respect.

“So, what do you two have in common?” I asked, overflowing with polite disinterest.

“Oh… uh… you know, that thing…” he stammered.

“Knitting I guess,” Raspberry said, trying to help, but making everything worse.

“Yes! Knitting, we knit all the time together!”

During the fifty seconds we were apart?

Come to think of it, I had no idea where he had found the time to acquire another fake girlfriend.

The earth pony filly shuffled her hooves. “I—I really need to get to my next activity. The lake is a little walk away…” Without waiting for permission, she cantered off, clearly having reached her limit.

I stood up, figuring I may as well get a feel for the ensemble of my next activity.

Alibi followed me, matching my walking speed but leaving a buffer.

I sighed.

“Let me guess: you have all the same activities as me…”

He cocked his head. “No, actually. Princess Celestia just had to give me whatever was left over. Well, I’m off to Social Dancing now!” With that, he danced away.

What does Celestia even want me to do with him? I’ll trust that she has him contained, but being his only “friend” is a tall order.

I breathed in.

Okay, this should be fun. But I need to stay focused.

I scanned the field of participants. Hail Stone, Rough Rider, Brass Ring—the Terrible Trio—and, of course, Blue Horizon. I would have to find some way to make progress. I couldn’t just play all afternoon.

“Hello, River,” came a quiet voice behind me.

I turned and smiled at Cake Slice. “Good morning,” I said. “I hope you like this activity. My classma—I mean, I picked this activity because I thought I’d enjoy it, but I don’t know if it’s up your alley.”

The little unicorn giggled and stretched her legs. “I’m not the athletic type like you, so I think you did a good job.”

“Hmm?” I voiced.

“There are all sorts of skill levels here. Blue Horizon is really talented, and I’m nothing, but it’s not about winning.”

My bizarre “guilt” of not picking my own activities intensified.

Considering how to continue the conversation, I scanned the open field that had been reserved for us. I could easily imagine crops occupying the space, but wasn’t this supposed to be an apple orchard?

“You’re not nothing,” I said on a whim.

She looked at me with those wide blue eyes.

I broke eye contact. “I don’t know you that well, but you’re fine. You may be shyer than most, but the more talkative exchange students have problems too. New Moon likes you. Pink Diamond likes you too.”

She smiled sweetly. I looked up and away. It was a beautiful day, adorned with that expansive blue sky. The weather was perfect, but then again, that was probably no coincidence.

“I wonder what kind of instructors we’ll—”

“Hey, River!” an acrid voice cut in.

“Oh, Blue Horizon,” I responded, weakly, trying not to sound disappointed.

Cake Slice almost seemed to shrink in response to the pugnacious blue unicorn filly. I was filled with dread.

“Hello…” I said after a mini staring contest.

Horizon stamped a forehoof. “Don’t greet me. I want a status update. Homework!”

I felt a glancing blow from her demand and pressed my brain to decipher it.

“Uh… oh, it’s gotten a bit harder lately, but I’m trying to do more in less time.”

“Your GPA is up?” she asked slyly.

“I… It was for a while, but now my grades are scattershot.”

Her steely gaze pierced me. “But you don’t know what the trend is toward?”

I shook my head dejectedly.

Blue made a soft noise of annoyance.

I looked to Cake Slice for backup, but her determination seemed to be wavering.

To my chagrin, lacking any other distractions, a small crowd was gathering around us.

“What about your games with Pipsqueak? Have you won a few?”

“What about me?” a small white colt asked, completely befuddled.

“You mean Squirt…” I said, uneasy.

“Same thing,” Horizon said.

“I haven’t had time to play with him recently...”

“And your Prench?”

I sighed. “Same thing with the homework, really…”

That and the fact that talking to Mix-up in the “language of love” is more awkward than anticipated.

“Look, River, I’m not mad—”

You sure would’ve fooled me.

“—just disappointed. You challenged me, and now I’m having to call your resolve into question.”

“I’m sorry,” I said automatically.

Blue Horizon’s eyes seemed to be filled with indignation. She did a half-stomp of her right forehoof.

“I’ve been keeping up with my challenges for my part…” she added for good measure.

I heard a clapping, and everypony’s attention was directed to the cream-colored mare with a clipboard that had finally decided to make an appearance.

“We’ll talk later,” my rival declared. “And Lua isn’t even here, so I won’t get to enjoy beating her…” She trotted off—before coming to the awkward realization that she was going the wrong way and circling back.

“Welcome to Variety Sports! If you wanted to just have fun, you picked the right activity.”

Blue Horizon scoffed.

“I say that, but our statistician and assistant coaches will be meticulous in tracking your performances!”

Cake Slice let out a quiet “eep.”

I glanced over to the trio of Hail Stone, Brass Ring and Rough Rider.

How do I use this time to get through to them? As it is, I don’t have any ideas….

“One more thing!” Blue Horizon hailed. I flinched. “I can’t understand what you—”

“Leave River alone!” Cake Slice shouted, at twice her normal volume. I could tell she was immediately regretting it when every pair of eyes was trained on her. “I mean, she’s trying her best to advise all of us.”

“But it was her idea—the competition thing.”

Cake Slice found her courage again and re-established eye contact. “She wants to help. Maybe she bit off more than she could chew, but she’s staying with it. And that should be what counts!”

“Well, good thoughts won’t help me make friends,” Horizon said weakly, with the whole “droopy pony ears” thing.

Our chaperone cleared her throat. “I’m glad you’re both passionate, but please save the quarrel for the break period. She stretched her back legs and then balanced and kicked them back. “Today’s event: basketball!”

I vaguely recalled something about an old-time sport with two tall towers, but the pony version was a bit more literal. It was effectively soccer most of the time, albeit with a smaller, flexible ball that could be handled by mouth. But once picked up, the ball had to be thrown to a teammate or towards the basket.

In truth, it was a tough sport for beginners like me and Cake. From what I could gather, catching airborne passes was what most struggled with. While I had a knack for snagging balls out of the air, my tiny frame was tough to aim for.

Nonetheless, I still found myself enjoying it, even if the score quickly got out of hoof. I was somewhat disappointed when the final whistle dismissed us, but my lungs and muscles were rather grateful.

I breathed in and stretched in satisfaction.

The sun had gone behind a cloud, and the whole camp seemed to go quiet for a pristine moment. I took a moment to sit atop a small hill and glance across this quadrant of the camp. From my perch, I could see three or four other activity groups.

Cake Slice came trotting up to me. While she approached me with confidence, it was as if the two of us started questioning hanging out together at the same time. After all, we weren’t amazing friends or anything.

“Want to get lunch?” I asked her, anyway.

“Sure!” she replied, taking a little hop. I immediately felt guilty since discouraging my fans from accosting me was a substantial part of my motivation for inviting her.

I breathed in. This is fine. I like her well enough, so it’s not like it’s a chore. I thought. Honestly, there wasn’t much not to like.

And so, we trotted to lunch together. However, before either of us could concoct a conversation, we ran into Pestle Mix just outside the cafeteria.

“Hi, River!” Pestle said with more energy that I’d come to expect from her.

“Hi Pestle,” I said warmly. “What activity are you coming from?”

“Cooking,” she replied.

I took a moment to think and nodded. “I can understand it: chemistry and cooking—there’s overlap there.”

She shook her head. “I do it since cooking is fun. There’s a saying that alchemists are lousy cooks, so I practice to try and overcome that stereotype.”

I looked back to Cake, expecting disappointment that her time with me would need to be shared. To the contrary, she seemed to be on the verge of joining in.

Then I locked eyes with the head of a small line of ponies we had been blocking.

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly, stepping aside from the mess hall door.

The alchemist filly seemed to be weighing her words. “Well, I’m sure you have things to do…” she said weakly.

I studied her for a bit. Her body language did not comport with her words. It was obvious what she wanted.

“You want to eat with us?” I asked, extending a hoof towards her for good effect.

She beamed so brightly that I needed to look back towards Cake.

“By the way, Cake Slice the exchange student, meet Pestle Mix of Canterlot First.

“Hi.”

I looked between them. Neither seemed eager to elaborate.

If they weren’t going to hit it off, I supposed it was my obligation to give them equal attention. But somehow, that seemed insufficient, and I wanted to do more.

We found three open spaces and jumped onto the bench. The camp had all the logistics masterfully handled, and we were quickly served three identical plates. However, before I could size up my meal, a sixth sense alerted me that something annoying was coming.

“Oh, hey, River, I didn’t see you there!” Alibi hailed.

I rolled my eyes before spinning to face him. Sure enough, he had acquired another new marefriend.

“Gilded Acres here told me that you worked on supply chains together. You must be very good friends!”

“Not exact—”

“Not exactly,” Gilded cut me off. “I’ll give her some credit, but otherwise, we’re still dethawing.”

Alibi forced a laugh. “Now, Gilded, don’t tell me that supply chains are something you’d talk about with just anypony.”

Gilded cringed and then stiffened up a little. “Well, I would, but normally ponies start nodding off within thirty seconds.”

Alibi patted her side. “I guess that’s what makes us such a good match!”

I made eye contact with my earth pony sorta friend. “Then, I’m sure you would enjoy hearing all about her family’s operations in Baltimare.”

He blinked. “Well I don’t—”

Gilded lit up, and I smiled back at her. “You can even walk him through that fifty-seven way merger of aggregated farmsteads.”

“Sure thing. I’ll take him through all the details,” Gilded declared.

At this point the changeling was trying to keep his cool, but his fidgety body language failed to help the cause. Suddenly, he galloped off.

“Ohlookatthetime! See you later, Gilded,” he shouted in his wake, dashing off.

“Thanks for helping me break up with my coltfriend,” the earth filly said.

“I just want to see the end of these shenanigans.”

Gilded eyed our food. “I think I can guess at what’s going on, but honestly, it sounds like it’s firmly in ‘your problem’ territory.” With that, she went in search for an open spot.

Is—is it too late for us to actually be friends? I like her attitude.

For a minute, I was able to enjoy my food. There were three mini-sandwiches and a plump apple with some sugared biscuits for dessert.

“Umm… River?” Cake Slice squeaked.

For a selfish moment, I was annoyed, but then I remembered that these were the ponies I actually wanted to chat with.

“Yes, Cake?” I responded.

She hummed and hawed a bit, so I turned to make eye contact.

Her eyes were sparkling…

“Tell us about your new suitor!”

I froze. It just had to be that. Looking for backup I faced Pestle, whose expression was cuter than expected, as she also implored, “Tell us!”

I took turns looking at each of them, seeing no chink in their armor. “Cake, I thought you weren’t into this sort of thing. And Pestle, I’m a bit surprised you want to talk romance…”

Cake Slice smiled. “Weeeeeell, normally I’m not so intrigued, but it’s you you’re talking about, River. I want to support you. Plus it’s just really exciting: it’s like a princess romance.”

“As for me, I don’t particularly want to talk about your romantic life, but Alibi is a pretty good catch—handsome and all,” Pestle said matter-of-factly.

I became aware of eyes looming on the periphery of our conversation bubble. A sigh escaped me, as I gave into the inevitability of eavesdroppers.

“He’s not cool at all,” I clarified. “He’s good at certain things, but none of it’s admirable. I don’t think he’s a good fit for any pony.”

“That’s not a direct ‘no,’” Pestle noted.

My patience fraying, I scowled at her.

Cake Slice took a big bite of her apple and emanated an uncharacteristic amount of confidence once she was ready to speak again. “I always think it’s good to know the good and the bad.”

“But, hey, if you don’t want to talk about it, I think we can stop the teasing here,” Pestle conceded.

Cake nodded.

I sighed in relief.

“About Alibi’s personality, I’ll take your word for it, though,” Pestle said to me. “I don’t like him or anything; it’s just my parents keep telling me if I don’t keep a lookout for a potential mate, I’ll end up a hermit madmare.”

I pondered the absurdity that somehow I had ended up talking about dating with the two fillies I knew to be least interested in romance.

“What do you want to talk about, River?” Cake Slice offered.

I put a hoof to my chin. “It’s hard for me to think about that right now since I’m so busy with the task I’ve been entrusted with.

“The princess mission?” Cake asked.

“It’s not a princess mission!” I shouted. “Also, how do you know about that?”

“Word travels fast,” Pestle explained, to my chagrin.

I could vividly picture the front page of a tabloid: “Monumental Princess Mission: 9 Ways it Will Change Equestria - Number Four is the Fourth Entry!”

I stretched on my stool. “So, yeah, I’m trying to help all of the exchange ponies, but it’s really stressful.”

Cake Slice frowned. “I’m sorry for troubling you.”

“No, not at all,” I said, waving my forehooves. “I was happy to help you. The others are just… tougher.”

“What qualifies as a success?” Pestle inquired.

“Well, Celestia—” I shook my head. “I won’t lie to you, but I can’t give the full details for certain reasons. But it’s not a state secret or anything, though, so don’t overreact.”

Pestle shrugged as she finished chewing. “Okay.”

Cake nodded.

Well, that was easy. Why can’t all ponies be this cooperative?

“If there’s anything we can do to help you, please tell us,” Pestle pleaded.

“That goes double for me!” Cake said.

I looked at her, and she flinched, blushing when she realized the attention of my peripheral crowd was now trained on her.

“I mean, maybe not double, b—but I want to help out…”

I darted my gaze between them. They were both determined to contribute.

“I know what most of the friendship problems are, but the ponies I’m working with don’t seem to make any progress with me talking to them.”

Ponies started to finish their meals and were now congregating at the perimeter of the cafeteria.

“You didn’t solve my problem by talking, though?” Cake Slice reasoned.

I stared up at the wood ceiling—it was surprisingly well maintained. “That’s true… but I don’t know.”

“If you’re stuck, why not try something different?” Pestle suggested.

I sighed. “The thing is, Cake, you asked me to help you; the others I had to approach. More importantly, you told me exactly what you needed help with.”

“Why not ask them, then?” Pestle asked, scheming.

“It can’t be that easy!” I protested.

“I’m not calling you dumb or anything,” Pestle assured me. ”But sometimes if you scrutinize something too closely, you lose track of the big picture and the simple solutions.”

Cake Slice smiled at me. “Maybe I’m just hoping too much that we can help you out, but I think it’s worth a try.”

How do I turn that down?
“I’ll try it,” I said, with quiet determination.

“I heard there’s romance talk around here?” a passing Sweetie Belle inquired.

“No!” all three of us said at once.

Scootaloo made a face. “No thanks. I’m done poking my nose in that sort of thing.”

“Were you three looking for me?” I asked the Crusaders.

“Ah, it’s not much of anythin’. I just wanted to give you some tips about animals and all,” Applebloom said to me. “It’s an earth pony specialty, you know?”

Animals, huh? Seems weird that they would end up picking that for me. Will they still be wary around me, or will they fawn over “the alicorn”.

“Are all of you going to the Animal Care class?” Zephyr Zap asked, maneuvering her way into our conversation.

I turned to greet the yellow and black pegasus. Atop her head was the recently-acquired kitten I had named for her. Of course pets were allowed; why wouldn’t they be?

Applebloom perked up. “Ah! This here’s a good opportunity. Talkin’ to animals is really like talkin’ to ponies. You just have to listen a tad harder. Try it.”

I looked across to the others in gaggle of fillies we had suddenly become. Surprisingly, I was the only one who found this suspect.

I sighed. “I guess…”

The kitten was eyeing me warily.

“Hiya, Falafel Mix. Nice to see you again.”

The cat stared at me harder.

“I—uh… how are you liking the name I picked for you?”

He hissed and clawed at the air.

I was unsure whether to classify that interaction as a success.

Author's Note

I'm a bit concerned this one may lack punch. I was planning on something big, but I decided it would be impractical (and possibly cruel to my reader(s)) to drop it at the end.

Chapter 48 Author's Note

I had a lot of fun writing this. Hopefully that translates to the readers' perspective as well. As long as I can make someone's day, I can still justify writing.

Chapter 48

My eyes went wide at the huge gray stallion in front of me. His fur seemed rougher than most, and somehow he had a scar right below his left eye.

That’s… not Fluttershy.

“Hello! My name’s Ruby Haggard, and welcome to Animal Care 101. Err… that means a crash course, you know?”

Rainbow Dash has already given me a crash course, thank you very much.

“So what’ll you be teaching us?” Alibi asked.

Somehow this got him several looks from our cohorts. If I had to guess, the rest of them were intimidated by the earth pony.

“Great question,” Ruby said, clearly indifferent. “I’m sure you know what the class is basically about. y’all had your catalogs and all.”

Alibi looked down briefly, somewhat puzzled. “But… I didn’t even choose…”

“You’ll figure it out,” the stallion said.

“I can tell you!” Applebloom chimed in. “Basically, you get to interact with animals, and uhh… care for them?”

“Correct,” our instructor says, with impressive patience. “Let’s get into it. I will split you into teams with these.” He turned to reveal a bunch of pencils.

“Drawing straws?” Thaumaturgical asked. “I’m good at this.”

How. How are you good at that? How can anypony be good at that? Fortunately, I was willing to forgive that outburst of silly from my friend.

Silence settled and with a wave of Ruby’s hoof, we queued into one of those pony lines that were so ubiquitous.

I let my mind wander, as I ended up in the middle of the line. When I had zoned back in, Alibi drew a green pencil in front of me. I almost entertained the thought that it was the color to avoid, but that wouldn’t make me any better than Thaumaturgical.

I stepped tentatively towards the saddlebag. On a whim I put my left forehoof to my head. “With my amazing psychic powers, I foresee a green pencil…” I said flippantly, hoping against hope.

I still frowned when that was exactly what I got.

Of course.

“Wow! You can predict the future River!?” Sweetie Belle inquired, beaming.

“Maybe you can get your cutie mark.”

When I felt the bearing of eyes on me, I blurted out, “And it’s not my alicorn aspect either!”

“Woah! Now she read my mind!” said a Canterlot Second colt.

I facehooved in frustration. I groped in the dark for something to diffuse the attention, but I came up with nothing.

Eventually the drawing of straws resumed. In addition to Alibi, I was grouped in with Perfect Double—not exactly a pony that could make for a good buffer between the changeling and me.

“Ahem.” Our instructor said, quite unnaturally. “I have reached out to the residents of this forest, seeking anypony needing help.”

I looked around to corroborate my incredulity. The faces around me suggested I might be the odd one out.

He whistled, and animals—birds, a beaver, squirrels, some rabbits, even a fox—made a well-choreographed entrance.

“You will split up and help these animals with their problems.”

I can barely do ponies, but…. animals?

“Mr. Haggard?” New Moon asked. “There’s only one of you and… however many groups. Are you really going to leave us on our own?”

“Don’t be absurd,” the stallion said, with a slightly softened expression when he realized his words were too forceful. “These animals can be trusted.”

That raises even more questions! I thought. What can they do to protect us?

Without further ado, Alibi, Perfect Double and I followed a rabbit to her abode. While traveling I thought over what I’d gathered about animals in this world. It was a strange mish mash of what my old world logic told me to expect and the whimsy of Equestria. Cows, pigs and sheep were probably the strangest cases. They were practically as intelligent as ponies, but for the most part, they preferred to keep it simple. Farmponies will feed them for milk and wool, and in exchange they're supported in their humble existence. Fortunately, I didn’t think long enough to notice the obvious problem with the pigs.

After five minutes of walking, I was struggling to keep my bearings.

“Are you sure we can find our way back?” Perfect Double asked, gesturing to us. “I’m not asking for me—I mean, I’m pretty good at studying my environment, but if we get separated, I’d be worried for them.”

I sighed. Her whole “secret agent” play was so tiring. And in view of the real spy walking next to us, even her imaginings were unimpressive.

“We’ll be there soon,” said our guide.

I nodded.

“So, you enjoying camp?” she asked.

“I’m doing okay,” Perfect Double responded.

“And you’re an alicorn,” our guide said, pointing out the obvious.

“Astute observation—” My jaw dropped as I locked eyes with the rabbit.

“You—you… rabbit—talking.”

I was on the verge of fainting for the second time in my short stint in Equestria.

“River, what’s wrong?” asked Double.

I observed her sincerity with a panicked sense of disbelief. Her endorsement of the reality unfolding before me frayed my nerves and threatened my sanity.

The rabbit was smiling.

“How are you talking?” I asked the rabbit.

She scratched a spot on her back with her back leg. “We always talk. Ponies don’t always listen, though.”

For a crisp moment I dissociated and just appreciated the cool shade the surrounding forest provided us. The moisture in the air was somehow invigorating on its own, which only heightened my state of mild shock.

“Oh, I get it. If my deductions are correct, it has to do with your ascension.” Double explained.

I briefly stared at her in disbelief for her little act.

“My intel suggests that earth ponies are best at communicating with animals. As a unicorn, I can understand the broad idea of what they’re saying, but the details elude me. For Alibi here, for animals that can’t fly, he’s out of his element.”

The changeling scratched his head nervously. “Ah, yes, me being a pegasus is exactly the reason why I can’t understand the nice rabbit.”

My shock at this development suddenly flared up again.

“You really can understand me?” I asked the rabbit.

“You betcha, Hon,” she responded. “Me being able to talk to ponies is the bigger achievement—what with all your words.”

After a moment of concentration, I was able to spot the seams in our communication. Once I did, it was clear she wasn’t speaking my language—my second language, anyway. That did little to dispel my amazement at the fact that I could get her message despite being unable to break down the actual words used.

At least it’s not entirely a special alicorn thing—at least not directly…

The woods thinned noticeably, and I felt the sun sneak through the tree cover. It took my eyes a moment to readjust, but when they did, in front of us lay a huge hill carpeted in green. I looked for a leaf hut in a desperate attempt to affirm my expectations. However, the welcome mat in front of the normal-sized door in the side of the hill left no doubt: I was in for another round of Equestrian surprises.

“Well, don’t stand there staring,” said the rabbit. “Come on in!”

The three of us stood there dumbly. After a weird look from Mrs. Rabbit, we nodded, strangely in sync.

I breathed in. Okay, this is a lot to take in, but I’m over it. I’m not sure what we can help them with that they couldn’t do themselves, but…

“WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THIS!?” I wailed.

A wooden floor.

Furniture.

A kitchen.

A designated sleeping area with three four-level bunk beds.

But what really got me was the incredible interior decoration—everything from the fixtures to the flooring matched—as if they were carved out of the same enormous, ancient tree. Far from a hutch, this was a cozy little hideaway in a hollowed-out hill.

Suddenly I became cognizant of a chorus of crying.

“Don’t just come into my home shouting!” the she-rabbit admonished me. “And they say animals are the ones with poor manners—sheesh.”

My colleagues looked at me weird.

Come on. You’re plenty weird yourselves.

I stared blankly at the ceiling, which refreshingly actually looked like the inside of a hill. Only after a few protracted moments did it occur to me the rabbit was waiting for a response.

“S—sorry… it’s just that animals don’t talk often where I’m from.”

I regretted saying that the minute it left my lips.

“I was exaggerating before, but you really do have no manners.” She squinted and moved a little closer. “But, you’re how old now? Five?”

Alibi made a show of clearing his throat. “Well, it’s not polite to ask a lady her age.”

Hey, he was actually useful for once.

“My intel suggests that there is an individual variation in how animals view civilization. Some think it’s best left to other creatures and look down on homesteads and such, while others emulate, or even envy 'bigger' creatures,” explained Double

“Well, it sounds like your ‘schools’ are good for somethin’ after all. If there were more of us around here, I’d think about startin’ one.”

I think I’m hearing both attitudes at once?

I shook my head. Taking a moment to admire the little arrangements that made the rabbits’ house appear to be somewhat spacious, I contented myself with the thought that I got bailed out of another potentially embarrassing show of ignorance—around ponies whose opinions I cared about at least.

Perfect double tiptoed a few steps and did a little skip, apparently trying to add another layer to her ‘mysterious’ persona. “What is our mission, bounding one?”

Are there colts that would like that?

I cringed.

No, no! Bad filly thought, begone!

“Just a few things. Nothin’ real excitin’.”

“Now don’t set our expectations too low.”

Still, if I had to cuddle or groom a bunny or two and be out of here, I thought I could make out okay.

Somehow, a few short minutes later, Double found herself enthusiastically dusting the walls and flooring, and Alibi and I were combing through a scattered pile of wooden pieces.

“Let’s see: attach joint 2B to rod 13. Where’s rod 13?” Alibi asked.

“Is this it?” I responded, showing him a vase-shaped object peg.”

Alibi took a moment to consider my suggestion, but a second later he gave a characteristic smirk. “No, clearly, that’s for decoration at the end.”

Quit playing: you didn’t know either.

I sighed.

“How did we get stuck doing this?” I whispered.

Our host still heard. “It’s all ‘cause you’re industrious young foals who love to help a mama in need.”

I gave her a pained look, miffed at the injustice of her eavesdropping.

“Nothin’ gets by ears this big!” She flexed them for emphasis.

After twenty minutes of collaboration, including a lot of help from the changeling’s guardian spirit, we had put together a three level shelf that looked more like a step ladder than anything else. I wasn’t one to complain, so I admired our handiwork with measured pride.

“Good job with the dusting, and that shelf’s looking good!” said the mother rabbit.

“It’s done,” I said, trying to shield a tinge of annoyance at the whole arrangement.

“Me too!” said Double.

“Great! You’ll be making cookies next,” the rabbit said with zero hesitation.

“Cookies?” I repeated.

“Yeah, you ponies aren’t the only ones that need sugar. I’ve got all my babies to feed.”

I put a hoof to my chin; then I set it down. “Why don’t you just—you know, that’s fine I guess.”

Double stepped forward. “My experience makes this a mission I am well-prepared for. You can entrust it to me.”

“Great!” the rabbit mom said.

I had thought that we were supposed to help animals in need, not do their chores for them for nothing in return. But in resignation, I held my tongue.

Cooking, then? It wasn’t anything my family was especially good at.

The rest of our history aside, the lack of natural ingredients on Rhod had basically made it a lost art.

“It’s not something I’ve done before,” I explained to our taskmaster, praying she would see reason. “I can’t guarantee it’ll turn out all right.”

“There’s three of you. The book is right there.

“Like our friend here, I am highly skilled at following orders, so do not hold us back, River,” said Alibi.

“Right…” I answered.

I glanced between my two coworkers. "Okay, who has baking experience?"

Both of them did the whole submissive pony thing, as if trying to physically shrink down.

"Nobody? Great. I'll take the lead then; I guess since I'm good at following orders."

"I never miss my mark," said Double.

The actual double agent looked at her in disbelief.

I guess I'm sort of more like him than her.

I shook my head. Double was weird enough to make the two of us look similarly "normal."

Alibi quickly tried to make eye contact with me to try and decipher my cryptic comment; junior princesses wouldn't be known to take orders. Although I quickly turned my head to counter, it was a bit of a needless gesture. After all, if he were even slightly more observant than a normal foal, he'd start to piece it together. After all, with a foals' constitution, it's not like I could carefully weigh every word and action I take.

"There's a cookbook in there that walks you through it," the rabbit mother said with a playful smirk.

I nodded, immediately moving towards the low cabinet.

"She said something about a book somewhere?" Double asked blithely, perhaps breaking character.

"Something… about a walrus?" Alibi tried, uneasy.

Am I good at this, or are they really bad?

"How come you're so much better at understanding what I say?" The mom inquired, asking my question for me. "She gets about every other word, while he has to be the least competent pony I've ever met in that regard."

I bit my tongue to hold back laughter at Alibi's expense. His lack of a reaction strongly evidenced she was correct.

"What makes me special then?" I felt stupid the moment the question had left me.

"Maybe it's an alicorn ability!" Double said excitedly.

The rabbit perked up. "Oh, yes, that does make sense. Although I had thought the word for them was "princesses."

She paused to think. "Your type must be pretty rare. I've never actually seen one before. Are you a mutation, or are your type just bad at—you know…" she pointed at her children.

I went beet red. "I'm—I'm just a child!" I said indignantly. I shouldn't know of anything like that."

She shrugged. "But you do know, apparently. And it's nothing unnatural. The best tip I can give you is to moderate your expectations."

I sighed and shook my head forcefully to try and regain my composure.

Fortunately, Alibi and Double hadn't understood enough of that exchange to make any counterproductive comments.

Groping for a distraction, I opened the book. A question I hadn't thought to pose to myself was answered as the recipes were mostly presented in the form of flow diagrams, which led me to wonder if the matron was completely illiterate.

Why doesn't she just do it herself? I thought to myself.

I would have whispered it, but I wasn't going to forget her radar ears.

"Here goes nothing…" I declared.

An hour later, we were somehow all covered in flour and cookie dough, with only eighteen cookies (our third attempt) to show for it. A mass of dough had stuck to the ceiling, and I had slightly more respect for Alibi.

Double reached for one of the cookies, fatigued, and I slapped her hoof away. This proved to be the correct decision, as no sooner had the bunny children caught a whiff and converged on the cookies all at once. They were gone in a minute.

Unfortunately, we had no time to mourn the cookies, as the children were now bouncing on the walls.

For a moment their mother was concerned, but this faded quickly.

"That reminds me: it's been a couple of days since their last bath time." Then a smile crept onto her face, as if reassured by the familiar. "So I've got good news and bad news: I won't make you bathe my babies."

If Celestia were present, I thought I might actually thank her personally, I was so relieved.

"No thanks. I bathe alone," Double said with a stoic nod.

"Yeah, what she said," said Alibi.

"But I will need you to pump in some water for the tub."

My annoyance piled on a little more, but I felt a nagging fatigue: my resistance was broken at this point.

It was thankfully a short walk to the river. Still, I didn't have time to waste.

"So, Double, what do you like to do for fun?" I asked. Truthfully, it was a lame opening gambit, but I had no idea how to approach her.

"I'm always on the precipice. Out of the millions of possibilities I try to coalesce around one, with singular purpose." She answered,striking a dramatic pose. She stared into the frog of her hoof, as if a great truth lay in it.

Well, that's helpful.

Alibi looked at me, suspicious of my intentions.

"And, um, what is that purpose?" I asked, trying to wrestle down my impatience.

"Transcendence."

"Is that metal handle the pump we're looking for?" Alibi asked, sparing me having to respond.

"Of course! The one amenity that would actually help us right now, they don't have," I griped, idly drumming the ground with my hooves. No way around it: we would have to get pumping.

Without any discussion between us, we all decided to take a soak in the river. It only occurred to me later that I shouldn't be able to swim. On Rhod, drowning was strictly theoretical but I somehow had the instincts to not do so.

The three of us then took turns, one resting while the remaining two handled the pump. We were done before we knew it, to my pleasant surprise.

On the way back, I steeled my nerves to try again. "So what are you parents like, Double?"

"My father is a wanderer, roaming from town to town. He's waiting for the right moment to reveal himself once again."

That sounds tough, but if she keeps leaving hints I might be able to understand her after all.

"And my mother is known as The Witch of the East, famous for curses, cauldrons and camels."

"Camels?" I couldn't help but echo.

She nodded with confidence.

Easy come easy go?

I took a breath. The suggestion given to me by Cake Slice and Pestle Mix bubbled to the surface of my awareness, as if it had never left me.

"You know, I hope you won't consider it something outside of the shadows in which you dwell —"

I froze in my tracks. Clearly I was spending too much time with her already to pick up her parlance that easily.

I cleared my throat. "Anyway, how do you want me to help you? Princess Celestia gave me some hints, but how do you want your friendship studies to turn out?"

"The path I walk is a fine one. Filled with joy and sadness. Taken at the start, it's like a curse—knowing no one can walk beside me.

I shook my fur out like a wet dog as we limbered up for our job. "Do you have any siblings?" I asked her. It was a question asked to stall for time, but I was stumped.

I need time to decipher what she said.

"Well you see, the truth is…"

I braced myself for the stupid.

"I have—I mean…. no…."

I focused intently, hoping to decipher this latest clue.

"So, Double, who's your favorite Canterlot supervillain?" Alibi asked.

"I know not of what you speak," she said.

I leered at the changeling. "What are you doing?"

"I don't get why you are so interested in Double," Alibi explained.

"What makes you think that I'm interested?"

"You haven't been asking me any questions…"

"I understand exactly who you are. She mystif—is… interesting—as one of Celestia's friendship students."

I met eyes with her, and she wasn't clearly let down. I exhaled. Celestia forbid I encourage her little act.

Alibi grinned and spoke up, "My turn: hey, Double, do you know what River likes in a colt?"

I suddenly felt hot in my fur as embarrassment flooded into me; then anger overtook it, as if struck by a low blow that only worked because I was a filly.

"What are you doing?" I asked through clenched teeth with all the contempt I could muster.

"Oh, I'm just talking to Double. Or are you the only one who's allowed to?"

It was a simple retort, but it had me stumped.

"I regret to inform you that I do not possess that intelligence," Double answered seriously after having assessed her thoughts on the matter.

I exhaled.

"Can you find out?" Alibi asked.

I coughed mid-breath.

"Interesting. A mission that may prove dangerous indeed: spying on the secret life of one burdened with such destiny. Surely assassins and counterintelligence plots will crop up like weeds, challenging me to the root, but worry not, for I am a gardener of truth; you may entrust it to me."

"Please, you're the only one I could possibly entrust this task to," said Alibi, with far too much gravity.

I facehooved.

Ah, yes, my life needed more bothersome things. Thank you, Equestria.

Upon returning, I sensed the rabbit wasn’t going to set us free quite yet. Sure enough: “Next I’ll get you three started in the garden.”

“Garden?” I asked. “I didn’t see that coming in.”

I was quickly running out of time to come up with a persuasive argument for her to give us a break.

“It’s on top, silly,” she said with an emphatic hop. “I just need some weeds pulled and some watering done.”

“What’s she saying?” Perfect Double asked as she approached with her deliberately light steps.

I turned my gaze to Double, accepting my reluctant role as a translator. “She’s having us help with gardening on the top of the hill—or her roof, or whatever.”

If I was myself, I might have been comforted by the knowledge grown from life experience that starting the bothersome task would make me feel immediately better in the face of dread. Unfortunately, being a foal somehow made these adult truths feel less compelling.

“There's more weeds than there is garden here. This is just a few flowers,” I critiqued.

"Well they are pretty—some would say,” said Double, recovering her dark and mysterious countenance.

“Still, considering they have a house, I was expecting a little more.”

“Like what?” asked Alibi.

“I don't know, carrots?”

They both stared at me.

“What? Rabbits and carrots… they go together all the time!"

They just kept staring.

"Well, they do! Come on, can you really fault me?”

Alibi seemed to savor the awkwardness.

“I wonder what the others are doing. I asked,” tring to change the subject.

“My sources have reported something about helping the beavers building a dam,” said Alibi.

"You have sources too?" Double asked excitedly.

“Umm… well, a true agent never shows his hand, right?”

“Right!” Double chirped. “Come on! Let’s get our next mission.

All told, the three of us were actually fairly efficient, but I just knew that rabbit mother would find even more for us yet.

I then felt a strange calm fall on me. It was like some pressure on my horn that seemed to spread throughout my head.

“Spacing out when there’s more to do, River?” the changeling asked a few moments later.

“What—oh, sorry.”

I looked him in the eye while a blanket-like pressure was seemingly enveloping our surroundings. His eyes seemed to unfocus for a second. Then, he shook his head violently and took a moment to compose himself.

That pause turned into a full minute of unnerving silence, only after which we readied our resolve for the journey back to the rabbit house. It would be a bit of a walk, but I sensed that there was a shortcut path that would take us straight there.

The shade of the woods was a welcome change of pace after the somewhat strenuous task we had just completed. The ambience of the insects and animals around us could have soothed me to sleep.

“So, when are you going to tell me about your mission?” Alibi asked.

The annoying inquiry snapped me out of it. “I see no reason to fill you in,” I said coldly. “Though I can assure you: it’s much less exciting than you are imagining.”

“You may not think much of it, but that’s top-level intelligence right there.”

“Whatever…” I said, with less breath than I expected.

I felt a vise of anxiety grip my core as my heartbeat slowly sped up. I did my best to fake alertness by scanning my surroundings, but the result was just me moving my eyes from one spot to the next in an increasingly erratic pattern. I craved was beginning to experience a panic that had been building slowly.

A couple of turns later we emerged from the forest and were greeted by the sun presiding over an open field, a simple wooden bridge the only decoration. As we crossed, I was finally able to formulate what exactly was wrong. Equestria may be silly, but there was no way the two of us would get lost going back to the house—the house that we were standing on! I looked to Alibi, but I couldn’t quite read him.

“I think we’re just outside Ponyville,” Alibi commented.

“Sounds about right,” I whispered back. “In fact, Fluttershy’s house should be coming up soon I think.”

Does he notice it? He’s pretty sharp like that, but something weird’s happening. And won’t he pounce on the opportunity to be “chivalrous” if I say I’m worried?

That gave me an idea for a distraction, and I figured I might as well clarify something. “You know I’m not fooled by your little act to make me jealous. It’s honestly a doomed endeavor since I’ve already gotten enough of your company.”

Alibi grinned. “Just because you know what’s coming, doesn’t mean it won’t work.”

I shook my head. “I was right to warn those fillies about you. Hopefully the word will get out that you’re not as cool or interesting as you seem.”

He stifled a gasp. “You’ve been running a campaign to undermine my image in the eyes of the ever fickle and hopelessly romantic creatures that are fillies?”

“I take offense to that,” I said weakly.

“Don’t change the subject! My mingling prospects are important.” he said.

Looks like I was able to return the favor—I hit him with an attack that would only affect colts. Still, I would probably have plenty to get back at him for once Double actually got investigating.

I waved a hoof for emphasis. “Just know, I will have zero sympathy for you if you actually fall for me in the midst of all this nonsense.”

He stifled a laugh. “As if that would happen.”

“Hopefully you’re right. Oh, how I hope you are right.”

I concentrated with my full attention on our surroundings now that the conversation was over. It made no sense to chit-chat with him when something rather unnerving was going on. My actions made no sense. I wanted to find a way to calm down.

Am I just scared? Why would I be? Come on, think! Was it a spell? Or did Alibi trick me? No, that doesn’t seem to be the answer…

I remembered the pegasi guard unit dedicated to me—but they had failed before.

I still had my geomancy in a pinch—but if I mishandled the harmony flavored energy of the planet, I could be a wailing infant in a few seconds.

I froze. Well, there’s that…

I shook my head. That was purely theoretical at this point. I got lucky once, and that was why I was here right now, but I wasn’t so naive to think things would go exactly as I imagined.

Where are the non-violent options—more specifically, the ones that don’t involve cowering behind Alibi!?

Suddenly, with a jolt, my senses honed in on a particular tree.

Gesturing towards the same tree, Alibi donned a mischievous smile. “I already thought very little of your stealth skills, but come on! Your tail is visible.’’

I felt a momentary unease at the thought he had bested me in understanding our situation, but a re-emerging fear displaced it.

A unicorn mare marked by mixed shades of purple and teal stepped out from behind the tree.

“This isn’t an ambush,” she calmly replied. “My name is Starlight Glimmer, and I have a proposal for the young princess.”

“Not a princess,” I snapped, reflexively.

“Would have fooled me,” Alibi snarked.

I took a weak swing at his ribs in response.

“It’s simple,” said the unicorn, well-rehearsed. “Help me depose the current alicorn princesses, and we can rule this land together. You can have anything you want, and honestly, I think we can do better than our current regime. After all, who wants to live in a nation where innocent villages get ransacked by friendship vigilantes?”

She smiled a bit too broadly. “So, what do you say?”

I was dumbfounded, and three of four sarcastic responses competed to be my answer.

“Hey, I know you!” Alibi interjected. “You’re that crazy mare that applied to be a supervillian!”

“I’m not crazy!” she protested. “And how do you know about that!?”

“I dunno,” Alibi mused playfully. “I think the baseline is to assume crazy with anypony who showed up for the try-outs. As for how I know…” the fur on his head seemed to evaporate as chitin expanded underneath

Starlight nodded, as her fears slowly developed before my eyes.

“That explains a lot actually about that whole situation,” she mused. “I—I knew you were familiar somehow.”

Alibi flashed a playful smile at me. “She was one of the finalists. Brainwashing an entire village is pretty villainous, you know? Plus she was leading a cult aimed at stamping out individuality—you’d think she would be the ideal nefarious actor. But me and the committee decided she was a little too smart and not worth the risk we couldn’t control her.”

Starlight cocked her head. “I wasn’t expecting t—that to end with an indirect compliment, but I’ll take it. And I’ll have you know it was a gathering of like-minded individuals, and brainwashing is hardly evil when you're doing it for their own good! Besides, there were no spells used on anypony's mind; they all made their choices of their own will!” she said, weakly at first but getting more manic by the word, before she then composed herself. “But anyway, what do you think about my proposal? Take your time—I won’t rush you.”

Alibi casually morphed his head back into a foal’s.

I put a hoof down hard. “I’m not too inclined to listen to someone casting spells on us without our permission.”

She showed genuine, almost overbearing, remorse, which confused me to no end. “It’s a fairly minor and innocuous area of effect spell, but I see your point. Just because I didn’t cast it on you specifically doesn’t make it benign.”

Starlight waited for a comment from me. So, without anything better to do, I obliged.

“Why do you want to take over Equestria?” I asked, starting with what I actually wanted to know—somehow keeping a straight face.

“Well, it’s what villains do I hear…” she commented, unsure.

“So you are a bad pony then?”

“Well… ummm..no, I don’t think so.”

I sighed. This was going to be tedious.

“Really, I’m not evil or anything—just made some mistakes. But, well, I opposed Princess Twilight with force, and I kind of have no choice…”

“Did you try apologizing?” Alibi asked.

Starlight considered it for a tense moment before shaking her head. “No, what I’ve done you don’t just forgive…”

“You sure?” Alibi asked bluntly. “I mean I tried to kidnap this pony princess and I got off pretty easy.”

Starlight’s jaw slowly dropped as her eyes went wide. “That—that can’t be right…”

Alibi did a little hop. “100% true! I had to make a lot of promises, but Celestia understood why I acted the way I did and forgave me.”

Starlight’s puzzled expression contorted even more. “So… if I tell her why I did those things in my village, she might want to understand me?”

“She’s nosy like that!” Alibi said, chipper.

Starlight looked between the two of us. “Well, that changes… quite a bit. I think I’ll go back and try apologizing. Thank you, Changeling.” She bowed her head.

“It’s Alibi,” my cohort corrected.

She then looked to me. “Thank you, Princess.”

“Not a princess,” I repeated.

Starlight sighed in relief. “I’m so glad I chose this scheme instead of my original plan. Can you imagine? Stealing a forbidden spell to go back in time and erase Twilight Sparkle’s connection with her friends? It sounds ridiculous now that I’m saying it out loud.” She gave a forced laugh.

She’s serious, isn’t she?

The mare bowed her head. “Thank you again, young Alibi, and you, Pr—um… pony. I’ll strive to be reformed better than anypony has ever been!”

Well, that was surprisingly easy. I barely had to lift a hoof and this new problem resolved itself. Why can’t all my affairs be like that? And how does she not even know my name? She came here to recruit me, after all. Maybe her sources are even less reliable than Double’s.

“If I start walking now, I should be at Canterlot before I know it!” She paused. “Still, I wonder why I’ve gravitated towards this spot. There’s something here. It seems strange… yet inviting… there was no real reason not to just meet you at the edge of the forest.”

“Wasn’t that just your magic?” I asked, uneasy.

She shook her head. “I actually just shrouded the house in cognitive concealment magic and then laid a traced magical path back here using an attention-drawing spell. Still, I’m surprised you made it here so quickly, my traced magical path was a bit more circuitous.

She thanked us again and then dashed off.

“Should I have told her that I would blow up if I broke my promises to Princess Celestia?” Alibi asked.

I looked him straight in the eye in disbelief. “Yeah, I would think you did the right thing leaving that point out.”

It was too violent a method for Celestia to be the truth, but he didn’t need to know that.

I think.

I mean, I’m pretty sure—like 80% at least.

I took a deep breath. “I see what Starlight was saying. I feel so energized in this spot. There’s something that almost wants to be discovered.”

Maybe…

I closed my eyes and my horn lit up. Then, I was swallowed whole into a space-distorting pocket.

Talmar—a poorly understood world. Not a soul from The Outside had ventured to any of its eight great cities. Which in all honesty bolstered the whole not understood thing. In fact, not even those that claimed the cities as homes themselves seemed to understand one another all too often, which made the whole one world nation thing quite awkward. For this reason a regular council got together, fostering understanding, appreciation and cooperation. And so, such a gathering was even now taking place, with councilors from each city—and from other less exalted locations—together in one, majestic place. The transparent ceiling vaulted high above their heads signifying heights yet reached, while a massive pool beneath the delegates seated in the surrounding auditorium represented the crystallization of wisdom.

With a smack of the gavel, the heads of each delegation stood and bowed to the assembly in turn. Chief among the delegations was that of the great city of philosophers, Wadoor. Upon the highest observation tower was her representative, Leaven.

The wiry thin representative seated himself, and then the remainder followed, in order of rank. With that ritual out of the way, Leaven pushed himself to a standing position again with a single talon on the pulpit and, habitually, he tugged his hood of office to a secure position.

"I'll skip the opening remarks," he began. "We all know why we're here. If you don't by now, best pretend otherwise."

"No one's here for advice," spoke the delegation immediately left of Leaven, led by the Pillock of Spinnigts.

Leaven sighed. The disrespect was expected at this point. It was tiresome to do so, but he thought it at least courteous to remind the minor delegations not to readily admit ignorance.

"Since my good friend Leaven is content to be bland and respectful trying to get to the point, I'll be the one to be brush aside a little decorum," said Riks. His face, full of golden fur, seemed to shine with confidence. “I’m sure everyone here knows, so there’s absolutely no harm in explaining the reason for our gathering: the portal on Nereseren. Unfortunately, I do not have the answers that we crave the most: How was this portal created? Will it stabilize on its own? Can it allow for travel between universes? Honestly, if we had those answers, we would be busy doing something more productive than this.”

Riks swept the room for interest, which he found to be severely lacking. Not that that would stop him.

“The Korpix still remain ignorant of the portal, but let us not underestimate the potentially catastrophic consequences of that fact changing.“ He sighed. "Researchers in our City of Festival Nights have decided to promote “The Leaky Faucet Postulate” to “The Leaky Faucet Theory.” Although it was plain as day that magic in our universe isn't natural, the mathematicians have finally proven it, so now it’s official.”

“How trifling. As if something so minor can inform our actions,” mused the Three-Eyed Giant of Wallayt delegation from across the pool.

Something in his eyes made something in Riks buckle, but not give. Leaven smiled—with a challenger to wrestle, that was when Riks was at his best.

“Then perhaps it might interest you that this could explain the Great Metamorphosis,” Riks said with a grin.

“You don’t mean—” said the giant.

“Indeed, the magical half-life of the portal radiation matches up perfectly: the Korpix were transformed into mini-equines overnight by the initial shock of the portal’s opening.”

“It never did make sense,” said a respected sage from a lower delegation, scratching his bearded chin. “It’s not unheard of for dominant species to modify their genetic code to make improvements, but why would they do so and exhibit such apparent shame over their radically changed forms?”

“So what if they were!?” shouted the giant. “And so what if they’re the most magical species in the known universe? Our engineers validated that our barriers can survive the impact of the magical equivalent of an arsenal of warheads.”

Leaven smiled. Riks had already made his point brilliantly. Once the triclops (his actual name was unfortunately nigh unpronounceable) convened with his advisors he would grasp the magnitude of what had just been shared: if magic could be crafted in this universe that overwrote the very bodies of an entire race, you wouldn’t blunt magical force to circumvent Talmar’s defenses. You would only need a structured magical directive—a ‘spell.’”

A shrill, female laugh silenced the internal deliberations. "Their change into Mini-equines was and still is unprecedented. Why not work ourselves into a frenzy over what else "might" happen? We could be next for all we know."

Leaven took a moment to compose himself and do what he could to conceal his anger. The Shala were always sowing chaos when they could. Still in this case, he could understand: all of them had been safe from the Korpix threat for thousands of years—and now they were laid bare.

"The physiological, psychological and philosophical implications of their transformation are truly fascinating. Our people would be more than happy to fill all of you in," said The Professor. "Should another chaotic event such as that happen, we have made the appropriate preparations.”

The woman seated next to the Pillock of Spinnigts shrugged. "I suppose they've made it work. With or without your preparations, we would be fine."

"We’d be better than fine. We're not like them: extending our lifespans," said one of the minority faction leaders on the side. "What could be a more sinister way to stagnate?"

"If there's one thing we all know well here, it's stagnation," a male Shala remarked.

“That's one thing they do have over us: patriotism. You might consider trying it sometime," countered the woman, leering at him.

This is precisely why he hated these meetings. They were gatherings of the most knowledgeable people on the planet, but also the most cynical and pedantic too.

"And I suppose the odds of them not noticing their unique affinity is declining with that portal sputtering magic everywhere,” said a minor faction leader. "Why couldn't we have gotten one instead?"

"Not as if we could use it," said the Xel'Natta leader.

“I’d love to try…” said The Professor.

"Fourteen species among us here, and no magic users," a Shala said with a chuckle. He turned to the newest of the minority factions: "You so-called 'Lost Rhods', pray tell us: are you truly so incapable that your oppressed brethren have it and you simply don't?"

The lone human on the other side of the chamber stood up. "Permission to take the floor?"

"Granted," said Leaven, resisting the urge to voice his appreciation that someone still actually cared about formalities. Or respected them enough to at least try. "Wadoor recognizes the… Lanky Librarian."

Why did we ever think allowing epithets in court was a good idea…

"First of all, we would remind the lady of Shala it is the 'Lost Lusiads.' But no, it is not an indictment of our abilities. Frankly, those midgets are practically a different species at this point." He stretched his seven-foot frame for good effect. "They lost sight of the True Way long ago and have regressed to dim-witted barbarians. But enough about our estranged cousins. It sounds to me like all of you have just given up. We can win, and subjugate the Korpix once and for all!”

The reptilian Txel delegation spoke for the first time: “Even if we could match their military might, mass slaughter would throw away those values we most hold dear. Perhaps you humans are outsiders at heart still?”

The former Rhod smirked. “What if we were to use their magic affinity against them? If they can interact with it strongly, then the reverse must hold true per Hortz’s Law. And what if we were to interact with their magical nature to impose a sort of ‘natural law’ on them, using, say, harmonic oscillations? “‘Harmony’ so to speak. That’s the tentative name I’ve learned.”

Leaven felt uneasy, legs faltering beneath him. If this proposal was what he thought, it would not involve actual prohibited violence… yet it may be far worse.

Quarrel hummed a low-pitch tune as he picked up his house following Diane’s departure. Chaos was nice, but that was no excuse to be a complete slob. When your space is out of whack, weird things happen: elevated blood pressure, increased fear of clowns, hearing muffled voices from the armoire…

“Wait…” Quarrel whispered. “That’s not quite right.”

In imitation of what he’d seen the Rhods do, he took a few quick, soft steps towards the mysterious noise.

Taking a moment to brace himself, he opened the top drawer. Before him lay a doubly strange site: a young pony.

“Okay, now I’m confused…” Quarrel said aloud.

“You’re confused? Where the heck am I?” said the sky-blue filly bearing a pink mane, eyes darting around the room. “I was in a sunny place, now I’m here, and aren’t you Quarrel!?”

“You’re the one that showed up randomly in my sock drawer.” He paused, placing a digit on his lower chin. “Wait… don’t I know you?”

He paused for drama.

“Oh, and you’re Diane’s sibling too.”

Chapter 49

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter 50

Hugs. I was greeted by a procession of hugs: Celestia, Rainbow Dash, and even the mother rabbit. It got to the point where I started to wonder if all of the guardsponies were going to hug me as well.

“Hey, what about me?” Alibi complained.

While he was obliged, I would wager the affection was of a lesser grade.

“I should thank you for letting us know your whereabouts,” Celestia admitted.

Alibi chuckled and flared his wings out in a haughty manner. “I assure you it was mostly rooted in self-interest. Didn’t want you to think I’d foalnapped her after all.”

That pose and his follow-up line really don’t go well together at all.

As I smelled and appreciated the Equestrian grass under my feet once more, my mind returned to Rhod. “Time in my home dimension and this one are synchronized. It should be fine if I go back since—”

Celestia raised a forehoof to stop me. Although confused, I nodded in acknowledgement. She smiled. “Twilight, ever proactive, has already proven exactly what has happened. She has several chalkboards to back it up, and a slightly smaller number of ponies that can attest to their accuracy.

Alibi clasped his head. “No! No more explanations! I’ve had it with the earth-shattering revelations for the day! I’d rather be in school!”

“Basically the two dimensions have become one,” Celestia explained, in such a direct manner as if quoting a hoofball stat.

Alibi cringed and rolled on the grass in mock agony. It was quite satisfying to see the realization develop on his face that nopony was paying him any mind.

My eyes returned to the portal. The pale vortex looked less like a schism in the fabric of reality and more like a hand-drawn spiral pattern in translucent ink, suspended mid-air. I poked it a bit, and it was completely unresponsive and felt no different than the surrounding air.

“It’s our fault,” Celestia added with gravity. “By banishing Quarrel, a magical pressure gradient was created.”

“And magic attracts magic…” I recited, remembering my lessons.

Alibi was now practically pulling his fur out. “Stop it! STOP IT!!!”

I met Celestia’s gaze, we each took one dismissive look at him and then proceeded to ignore him again.

“I imagine it’s enormously complicated, but isn’t this an earth-shattering, dangerous development?”

“Surprisingly, no.” Celestia answered. “The fundamental constants were always the same between the universes, which makes travel between them possible at all.”

“Really?” I asked, truly incredulous. “Nothing bad will happen because of this?”

Celestia nodded weakly. “I asked Twilight similar questions, and we went around in circles for a bit. From what I can gather, it’s a matter of there no longer being anything she can point to that separates the two universes. She likened it to trying to find hay in a haystack.

“Don’t you mean a nee—”

“No, no I don’t,” Celestia cut in, interrupting Alibi. “I just learned the expression myself, but I’m afraid I would botch the explanation.”

I made a mental note to ask Twilight the next time I saw her, and I exhaled. “So Alibi told you to come to the Ponyville portal?”

“Yes, we considered meeting you two in Canterlot, but this one didn’t want to worry Mrs. Rabbit here.”

Alibi blushed and flailed his front hooves. “Don’t tell her that!”

I regarded him. “You afraid of your reputation taking a turn for the better?”

“That’s awfully kind of you, hon,” said the rabbit.

“We were unable to activate either portal. I remind you: If you are withholding information, there will be consequences,” Celestia warned the changeling.

Alibi was indignant. “What!? I told you the truth, all you have to do is feed it a little magic. Like this—”

The portal devoured him, which still rather unnerved me. A minute later, he was back with a sealed letter. “Princess Luna sends her regards,” he casually said, handing it over to the older alicorn sister. “Maybe adults are just too big. Though it would be funny to try and cram you into Quarrel’s sock drawer.”

The guardsponies next to Celestia advanced menacingly toward him.

“Hypothetical! Just a hypothetical,” he assured hastily, flailing his forehooves.

Celestia looked down as if a weight had suddenly been stringed to her neck. “I suppose you want to go home…”

It took me a second to realize she didn’t mean my room at the castle.

“I might, if it weren’t for the fact that Rhod is in danger,” I said without much thought. “Besides, a filly like me wouldn’t fit in.”

“Is there, like, an asteroid or something headed your way?” Rainbow suggested.

I shook my head and stared at the expansive, cloudless blue sky. “Quarrel messed up big: he turned an old enemy of my people into ponies. Billions of… whatever the heck they were before—into ponies.”

Celestia nodded for me to continue.

“Oh, and they didn’t turn back.”

Celestia only now showed surprise before finally sighing. “Of all the worlds. He was always so reckless—more than Discord even.”

“Well in my experience they’re about equally annoying,” I remarked casually. “Anyway, we’ve got a couple of plans. They range from simple—having faith in a formality—to morally dubious at best, hawked by a shady character to boot. In the middle, there’s the possibility that the philosopher’s chest—or whatever the blazes it’s called—has something to help Rhod.” I felt a cold chill down my spine. “Though that would probably rule out it being something to preserve my sense of self. Is it too much to expect both?”

“I see you have a lot to think about,” said the princess. “Though I have to admit, once I heard young Alibi’s account, I thought the last thing you’d want to do was go back to camp.”

I nodded in appreciation of her consideration. “Yeah, that’s where this is leading, but I’ve got a new string in my bow.”

“Pardon?” she said.

“Oh, it’s an old idiom. Surprised it’s still around. We stopped using ballistic and piercing weapons centuries ago per the Arbiter’s Accords.” Oddly, I could see some concern in Celestia’s eyes. “Basically it means I have the tool of newfound insight,” I assured her.

Meanwhile, Alibi trotted towards Rainbow Dash with smug confidence. “I take it you recall our bet?”

Dash pouted. “Yeah, yeah, here are my desert tickets for the week,” she said, reluctantly forking them over.

Celestia’s quizzical expression prompted an explanation Alibi was all too happy to share: “I challenged her to a race to that little old bridge in Canterlot near where I fought River, gave her a head start, took the shortcut, kicked back, and acted like I had just gotten there when she finally showed up.”

“Cheater,” Rainbow remarked. “Don’t know why you’d want them…” It was the first time I saw an adult distrust Alibi to a large degree.

“Yeah, I just ate after all,” he quipped.

I looked around and finally at Celestia, silently pleading for an explanation. I saw the alicorn immediately put together what the disconnect was.

“Your sister really loves you. I’ll be good for a week just from the scraps,” Alibi lauded.

It hit me. “You weren’t kidding, then?” I remarked to Celestia in disbelief as I vaguely recalled hearing about the changeling diet. This made me newly curious about the desert tickets, but I was sure Alibi would get far too much enjoyment from explaining his motivation.

I heard a drill-like humming from the portal and turned my head to see a pair of armored unicorns prodding the portal with weak magic I couldn’t identify.

My mind abruptly wandered to more mundane concerns. “Did we have another activity today that we missed? A creative one, right?”

“Naw, you’re good,” said Rainbow. “There are a couple of late class—” her ears drooped as I saw and her eyes flash panic. “Gotta go see ya!” She said quickly and was airborne and speeding towards the campsite almost before I could register what was going on.

Alibi casually walked towards me. “You said it was a creative activity, but Social Dancing was categorized as creative, and I don’t think they gave me two of those.”

I lightly contemplated the problem—and then I suddenly perked up. “That means I won’t have you in my last activity. All right!”

Celestia laughed briefly before immediately regretting it and covering her mouth.

“Hey now…” Alibi complained. “Don’t act so happy about that!”

“Even Spectacle and Squirt would wear on me after three shared activities, two pairings, and one definitely-not-approved extracurricular activity to another dimension.”

“Actually, it’s no longer a different dimension if what the princess said is accurate!” Alibi said, smug.

“I’d still take a foray to my home world with you over Double, though,” I admitted—mostly to ameliorate a possible bad impression from my jabbing at him.

“So I’m less annoying than Double?”

“Yes.” I answered with zero hesitation.

He smiled.

“Don’t get too happy; it’s not much of an achievement. Besides, I’m slowly starting to understand her, so give it another week and I’m sure you’ll regain your rightful place as annoying number one.”

Alibi perked up noticeably.

I flinched.

Whoa… didn’t expect that.

I then randomly locked eyes with the rabbit mother; then something hit me: “Did you leave your foals—err… children by themselves?”

“No, the other girl’s watching them,” she remarked, completely nonplussed.

“Wait… you left your children… with Perfect Double?” I asked in disbelief before locking eyes with Alibi for a moment.

She smiled. “Mother’s intuition. I can’t understand too much of what she says, but she seems dutiful enough.”

I guess it will be okay as long as the baby bunnies aren’t bouncing off the walls.

Celestia flared her wings dramatically. “In any event, I can’t make too much of a scene here, so I must be on my way. Delta Aura, Flicker Fade. I’m entrusting the portal to you. River, I wasn’t going to force you to go back to camp, but I respect your resolve.”

With that, most of the procession stampeded away.

We were halfway back to the rabbit house before I appreciated how well the mother rabbit knew the forest.

“Say, aren’t you curious about how we were attracted to the portal? I—I think I’ve felt like that before.” Alibi mused.

I shrugged as I avoided stray branches. “We have better questions to occupy ourselves with.”

That was the only words we exchanged during the entire walk back. When we returned, Double was coaxing a baby bunny to sleep as the other five formed a perfect circle around her.

We stared.

“What?” Double said. “I want to practice because I’d love to have my own foals someday. All fillies do.”

Her photogenic sincerity rocked me to the core. Then I imagined a small army of Perfect Doubles and cringed.

“Not all fillies are like that—” Alibi remarked with shaky confidence.

“Sure we are,” Double said. “Come on River, back me up here,” she requested with pleading eyes.

I recoiled at the idea of me with foals. More than anything, it was a shock to my system. It felt like a revelation when it hit me that I’d never thought about it the entire time I was a pony. On Rhod, I was slightly in favor of fatherhood as at least my duty to the cause, but that was outdated, to say the least.

I blushed.

The rabbit mother began moving her babies to the bed, grabbing them by the ears with her mouth. I idly watched her do this for all six. Finally, she turned back to us.

“Thank you for your efforts today. But don’t worry: I’ll have a ton more stuff for you to do after tomorrow.”

...seriously? We don’t help a different animal each time in this activity? I guess the beaver group is gonna build that whole dam.

“Yeah… looking forward to it…” I managed to weakly voice.

The rabbit mother waved us goodbye with a goofy smile on her face.

“So, where were you guys, anyway?” Double asked.

I sighed. “Oh, after reforming a former villain by doing absolutely nothing, we only got dragged unwittingly to another dimension where we were greeted by the jaw-dropping revelation that the princesses’ mistake from millennia ago had tethered the fate of an entire world to the capriciousness of an evil pony galactic empire. Oh, and then we met a remote-controlled synthetic bear-lion who offered us a harmonic friendship bomb in a highly suspicious proposition.”

Despite biting his tongue, Alibi started to snicker.

“Neat!” Double replied, eating up every word. She then hugged each baby bunny one by one before exiting the house.

“You’re actually kind of cheeky,” Alibi remarked.

I shrugged. “It’s a way to entertain myself at least.”

Alibi froze to ponder for a second. “You don’t say…Maybe I underestimated you.”

“The day I fail to meet your expectations is a sad one indeed,” I quipped. “Or maybe it’s more like sinking to your level.”

We sat in a half-circle in front of an old mare standing on a makeshift stage. It was nothing more than a platform made with a few big pieces of wood.

Initially, she touched her front hooves together and I instantly got Ms. Fizzle flashbacks. “Welcome to drama class, everypony. My name is Costume Design. I’ll be your mentor in this little crash course. Now, I know what you’re all feeling…”

You do?

“All of you are disappointed that the musical theater class was full.”

You don’t.

“However, don’t worry: we’ll still have lots of fun together.”

She started by handing out two-page scripts to each pony. To my surprise, there was no indication of which character was saying each line. The teacher then paired us together. My partner was Nest Egg. I vaguely remembered meeting her, but her effusive energy did a lot to remind me. Just being in her vicinity reminded me of channeling a planet’s energy.

We sat together in a corner between the stage and an unadorned wooden wall. This building did little to disguise that it was just a shed, with its low ceiling and dearth of windows.

“So, you’re Annuity’s sister?” I asked to break the ice.

“That I am—her gift sister!” Nest Egg said with a big smile. “So, you go to a lot of hoofball games?”

I shook my head. “No, that was more of a one-time thing…”

In truth, I wanted to go back, but I didn’t feel like asking Celestia for what was surely an expensive ticket. It already felt like embezzlement to collect an allowance from her.

“Do you know what we’re supposed to be doing?” I asked her

“—this is why we will do this exercise as a group,” I suddenly tuned in to hear. “You each will act out your lines without knowing what is on the other pony’s pages. It might be uncomfortable or stressful, but that is part of making art. Do your best and try to have fun.”

Hopefully I can see how it goes a couple of times and—

“River Glade, Nest Egg, we’ll start with you two,” said the instructor.

I pouted. Apparently, my “ability” to jinx myself had expanded to require but mere thought. Before I knew what had happened, my hooves had meekly complied with the call to action. Every eye in the room was trained on us.

“Ever seen a Lynx on the prowl?” Nest Egg read, stiffly.

I froze for a moment and then quickly read my line. “Prowl?” I asked, puzzled. “I haven’t seen anything like that. Uh… they tell me I will see some things, but is… that?”

Nest Egg put a forehoof forward in an “I’m acting” pose. “Ever? No, you’re never going to see anything like that,” she recited robotically. “I’ve seen things that will make a grown pony cry, things speaking to unbridled brutality, things that will eat you alive!!!” She suddenly shouted at the end.

My line sort of ended awkwardly, so I’m glad she recognized that, but her response makes no sense!

“Oh, yes, pray tell me!” I orated, trying to keep pace with her. “Tell me things that will put my heart at ease amidst stormy waters!”

I felt an internal pang of shame and turned pleading eyes to the teacher. Please, someone put this sketch out of its misery. We must have misread some lines…

“Teach me, Sir! How might I stand tall through it all!?” I asked, confused.

I might have done okay there.

Nest Egg sighed, suddenly somber. “Son, you must know what everypony feels deep down. A pony is no match for a lynx. But that is why facing one is in itself a triumph.”

Her body language entered a nadir of despair.

“Is this the Hope they speak of?” I asked, condensing my befuddlement with the script into that short statement.

I heard the sound of one weirdly enthusiastic clapper for our performance before the instructor joined in too. “It’s… not bad for the first attempt of the day…”

And you’re not even trying to make us feel better…

“All right, do we have a volunteer for—”

Most of the class galloped away preemptively, leaving but two “victims” remaining for her capricious designs.

“Monocle, Rough Rider, you’re up!” the mare said with artificial enthusiasm.

Monocle forced a smile, while the earth pony colt put on a false bravado for all to see.

“Hark all of ‘ye. Do you see beyond the northern peak, that with which I seek?” Monocle asked, as if politely accosting a stranger for directions.

Aside from the obvious “him not being here factor”—which made it a definitive boon—I was glad that Alibi wasn’t in this class: it was too much in his territory. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder how he’d do right now.

“Umm… River, can I ask a favor of you?” Nest Egg whispered, nudging my ribs to get my attention.

Being touched set off some positive mental energy—probably a pony social thing—but I was firm: “Not now. We’re supposed to be paying attention.”

In truth, I had lost all desire to be a good participant in the class after our fiasco of a performance, but I got the sense that I needed to scout the nine friendship students at every opportunity.

“It’s about Annuity…”

I paused for a second before nodding and leading her to the recongregated herd of our classmates.

Why did there have to be twelve keys? Unless I give myself a key—which would be really convenient right about now—I’m left grasping at straws regarding who the twelfth pony—changeling, zebra, whatever—is.

“So anyway…” Nest Egg said.

I suddenly became conscious of the fact that most of the group was paying more attention to us than they were to the skit on the stage.
I waited anxiously. I could tell even the ponies that appeared to lose interest were still primed to eavesdrop.

“Fine, go ahead,” I prompted, annoyed that even the ponies not from my school hadn’t lost interest.

“Well, Annuity’s been thinking some things over…”

“Okay.” I said flatly.

“I mean, not that she’s in turmoil or anything, but it’s a decision I think is pretty neat…”

“Okay.”

Get to the point…

“Well, I don’t know how to say it, but… well—Annuity wants to fix things between you and her and….well, be redeemed…”

As surprised as I was myself, the shrill gasps from Gilded Acres and Granite Hammer in front of us deflected attention away from me for a moment. It also assured me that I hadn’t misheard.

I guess even her friends don’t know about this. I thought. I guess she’s more than just a sister in name to Annuity.

“Whoa!?” Annuity’s going to be redeemed!” one colt shouted in surprise.”

“Wait!? That Annuity!?” His friend remarked. “Um… who’s Annuity?”

“I don’t know, but it’s big news!” the first colt replied.

“Why?” I finally asked, having failed to ignore the eavesdroppers’ exchange. After the initial shock, my reaction was fairly tepid. Annuity wanting to be nicer seemed like small potatoes when compared to the fate of Rhod.

“It’s all calculated,” Nest Egg explained, chipper. “She knows she can’t beat you in influence now, so she figures she may as well cut her losses. Oh, wait… I guess I shouldn’t have told you that part. Oopsie! Haha…”

I giggled. “I wouldn’t have believed anything else; it’s always about what’s in it for her. So, having said that, what’s in it for me?”

“Oh, umm…” she flailed her hooves randomly; then, realizing that wasn’t convincing, she froze to ponder. “We hadn’t thought about that actually…” she whispered.

Well, we’re off to a resounding start!

“TO KNOW BEYOND THE WORD OF A FALLEN WORLD!” Rough Rider soliloquized.

“Yeah… what he said…” Monocle added meekly.

My eyes wandered to the mare leading the class. The look in her eye was a cross between slowly brewed self-loathing and the passivity of a startled deer.

After about a minute, my classmates were exchanging disbelieving looks at each other, wondering how this activity would be salvaged.

“M—maybe I shouldn’t have invented a new drill,” the older mare languished. “—and implemented it… without a test run…”

You think?

Though I supposed she still had more dignity than Alibi had after his two-move chess defeat earlier in the day.

I smiled. That was funny.

“So, uhh… anyway…” Nest Egg prompted.

“Oh, uh… right…” I stammered, sheepish upon recalling that we were mid-conversation. “I don’t need an incentive so to speak—it’s just a lot of work to commit to right now.”

“Oh, right, because you’re a princess and—”

“Not that!” I clapped back. “I have other non-regal obligations I must also attend to. There are ponies in the class that would benefit a lot—like the Citrus siblings—” I paused.

Come on, don’t talk yourself into this! You've got to find the…twelfth…pony…who might… be pleading with you… right now… I felt my mind crash at the thought.

Nest Egg, oblivious to my mental flailing, looked like her mental wheels were turning in a good-faith effort to make her case. “Well, I know her, and I just know that she could help others if she was set on the right path.”

While the theatre teacher was busy picking up the shattered pieces of her sanity, our classmates had stopped even feigning disinterest in the discussion and were now outright spectating.

“I will give it some serious contemplation. If it can make Canterlot First a better place, it’s natural to want to do it. While I’m not entirely convinced that this isn’t a prank and Annuity isn’t about to sneak up on me and pie me in the face, I can sorta imagine what would get her to this point.” I sighed. “I should also say that I have no desire to fill a power vacuum in the social hierarchy. Just because I’m an alicorn now doesn’t mean I suddenly have great social skills or can reform anypony who lines up.”

While I was expecting pleading, I instead got a little bow of Nest Egg’s head (I cringed) and a heartfelt “thank you.”

Fortunately, our deflated teacher recovered a few minutes later and we resumed with a much more conventional lesson; though I was still bitter about being made a guinea pig.

When the lesson ended, I was surprised to find Pestle waiting for me on the way out.

“You look a little frazzled,” she said, cutting straight to the point.

“Still?” I responded.

“Did something happen?”

“Well… you’re not going to like this, but Annuity’s gift sister asked me to ‘redeem’ her.”

Pestle stayed silent for a few moments. “It’s been brewing. Annuity’s friends have become less deferential towards her.”

“Come to think of it, she accused me of stealing Bubble Bauble from her…”

“It sounds like a bad thing, but I think they’re more like regular friends now, rather than sycophants.”

I stared at the ground for a second. “So, you’re okay with this?”

Pestle shrugged. “I wouldn’t be her friend, but it’d be selfish of me to deny the relief her regular targets might get. Anyway, dinner will get cold, so we better get going.”

It was a short walk to the cafeteria. There were the usual stares for me, but having someone else made me feel somehow less scrutinized.

The line was long—and rather unorganized. I didn’t especially want to discuss Annuity, but the monotony of waiting convinced Pestle to reignite the discussion—mere moments before I was about to do the same.

“So, are you going to help Nest Egg out?” she asked.

“You know, I’m not even as against it as I thought I would be,” I admitted. “However, I do have a lot going on—and I hate how that sounds coming from me…”

“What other stuff do you have occupying your time? I mean, I’m not doubting you, but I genuinely don’t know.”

Her straightforward approach refreshed me and regained some of my flagging composure. “You know, some of it is even worse than redeeming Annuity…”

“Can’t be.” Pestle said without waiting a beat.

“Well, I’m the designated soccer rival to one of the exchange students,” I explained.

“How are you stuck with that? What is it, she has a bone to pick with a princess candidate?”

I nodded my approval at her choice of phrase. “Yeah—anyway, she doesn’t know it’s me since I’m doing it in disguise—long story.”

“How’d you end up playing soccer in disguise?”

“Well, you probably don’t know them, but Squirt’s sisters—”

“Oh yeah, Latte and Coffee… they’re something.”

How!? I can understand her knowing Squirt’s dad, the athlete, but what exactly do twin mares do to become local legends?

Pestle motioned for me to continue.

“Well, they wanted me to help Squirt be more physically active…and help him get through to his crush—I forget which one came first.”

“You got roped into that!?” she asked in genuine disbelief.

“Okay, they’re not all that bad. Celestia kind of told me without telling me to take care of Alibi…”

“What did she tell you?” She asked, probing.

“Well… nothing.“

“Nothing?” Pestle prompted.

I became aware of the proximity of other foals in line and felt a little hot in my fur. I had to try and put a lid on my concerns about being overheard; our whole discussion would probably circulate the campground overnight no matter what I did. “No, he just kinda showed up in class one day and latched onto me as something familiar.”

“You knew him before?” She asked, sharp as ever.

“Well…” I grimaced. I was presenting more and more openings when it came to my elaborate web of lies and untruths.

“It’s a long story…” I said after a long pause. “I can’t tell you the full story, but it basically leads to the same outcome in any event: it falls to me to help him get adjusted.”

“Anything else?”

“The Princess thing,” I answered instantly, earning a sedate reaction. “I mean the official thing at school—the one they make me do.”

“You do know you can say no to these things, right?” She snarked.

“It’s—it’s easier said than done,” I answered weakly as I filled out my dinner plate.

“The first one?” she probed.

I sighed, my whole tiny frame reverberating. “You got me there…”

“Hey, River, over here!” Applebloom called, needlessly shouting in my ear.

Pestle gave me a look to confirm I knew her, and we sat down. Sweetie Belle smiled at us; Scootaloo waved.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to hang out more. I’m honestly overloaded right now.” I apologized.

Applebloom cocked her head. “What’re you apologizin’ for before even sayin’ hi? Though I suppose it’s my turn to apologize, overhearing the pair of you. You were sayin’ something about redeemin’ a pony?”

I pushed a grape tomato gently with my fork, as I hesitated.

Pestle jumped in. “Yeah: a filly named Annuity. She’s a school bully.”

“That’s perfect!” said Sweetie Belle.

Scootaloo flapped her wings excitedly enough to give her a little lift out of her chair. “Yeah, problem solvers—that’s what we are!”

“Applebloom tapped the table gently as she was thinking. You know, we sorta redeemed a pony ourselves. Maybe this Annuity should talk to her.“

“Sure,” Pestle answered—almost instantaneously—refusing to beat around the bush like I was going to. I must have looked anxious, so she added, “We may as well see what this friend has to say.”

I looked around at the tables nearest us. I didn’t meet any eyes and thought that perhaps I was being paranoid about everyone trying to listen in on my conversations.

“So what did the three of you have to do in animal taming—err… animal care class?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Oh, we’re building a dam for some beavers...” Scootaloo answered, exhausted just for mentioning it.

“So it was you three, huh?” I said. “Alibi heard about that one—bet you’ll be busier than us.” I ground a forehoof against the side of my snout as I weighed my own statement. “Or maybe not—the bunnies we’re taking care of are pretty demanding.”

“Did they need cuddling?” Sweetie asked, completely serious.

I nodded. “Yes, but Perfect Double handled that for us, thankfully.”

“Pestle Mix, by the way,” the alchemist filly said, remembering her manners before I had remembered to introduce her.

“Scootaloo,”

“Sweetie Belle,”

“Applebloom, and we’re—”

“The Cutie Mark Crusaders!” the group said in unison, just shy of shouting.

Then it got awkwardly quiet. It wasn’t so bad—relaxing even—, and we peacefully ate for a little while. I suppose it might be expected since I was the only bridge between these newly made acquaintances.

When I got back to the tent, my presence was announced by a colt who had apparently appointed himself a sentry. I just sighed as I meekly crossed the open space to my designated sleeping area.

A few paces away, a familiar lime earth pony was brushing her gold mane.

“Hey, Gilded,” I greeted, mainly out of obligation.

I started to wonder after a few seconds if she was making it a point to ignore me. I was initially annoyed, but I perked up when I realized it was probably for the best not to start another relationship that would require maintenance. And then my mouth mutinied.

“I know, I know, we’re not friends or anything. I’m just trying to not leave things silent and tense and all…” I said, waffling somewhat.

She finally made eye contact with me with a slight smile. “Oh, no, it’s not you. I was just thinking through something. I know you didn’t care for Pish and Posh’s fancy restaurant, so I was left wondering—”

I didn’t know whether to curse the tabloids, my invitees, or Pish and Posh for making my personal business public knowledge. Inevitably, I cringed with embarrassment at the whole fiasco—my tantrum had been one of the more childish things I had done.

“But you never know. Would you be interested in the Honor Society?”

“The what!?”

“The council? Filly Student Government? They call it different things in different places. Anyway, it’s where fillies that want to network get together to promote the common good. Ever since Haute Couture graduated we haven’t even been able to establish a quorum at Canterlot First.”

“I don’t know who that is…” I remarked weakly, beginning to regret starting the conversation.

“That’s not so important,” Gilded said. “Anyway, Canterlot Second’s Honor Society has invited us to observe to get some ideas when we get around to re-forming. Pink Diamond’s going, and that bat pony has been strangely eager to advertise it.”

“I don’t think—”

I froze.

Bat pony? That’s got to be New Moon. And Pink Diamond’s there too… I started to dread where my own train of thought was leading.

A bunch of fillies, huh? Wouldn’t it just be mahjong and gossip?

I felt the pressure of a world on me upon mentally connecting the dots between Rhod and my mission with the exchange students.

I guess I’ll go. I can always leave if it’s a bust. I assured myself.

“When is it?” I finally asked Gilded following my deliberation.

“Tomorrow after dinner. You wanna go?”

Not really

“Yeah, I’ll probably come,” I said resignedly.

“Neat! Pink Diamond says you know some of the Canterlot Second crowd so I’m glad I can lean on you for that. I’d be nervous going by myself.”

I exhaled. “I don’t know how much of a help I will be in that respect. I’ll probably be very confused while attracting far too much of the attention.”

Gilded looked me in the eye and smiled. “Yeah, and it’ll be good governing practice for… you know?”

“I don’t.” I quickly lied.

Gilded hummed acknowledgement before traveling across the room to talk to the chaperone.

As curious as I am about this body’s governance structure, this is for Rhod. I’m certainly not looking for princessing tips.

Although I tried my best to put in a good effort studying Celestia’s notes on New Moon, Pink Diamond, and the others, I woke up halfway through the night after having dozed off. Initially, I was furious at myself for losing time I could be productive with, but that calmed down quite a bit once I remembered that my young body wasn’t designed for late nights.

I quickly went back to sleep.

They stood before me, in the same place for the first time: Auburn and the brown stallion. Realizing this was surely a dream, I calmed myself as much as I could and focused on the energy and vibe of the phantasmal space we occupied.

“I think I know why we’re here…” I said stiffly.

“I’m glad; I can feel it,” Auburn responded.

“We know, but you should say it anyway. These sorts of things have a strange power, you know?” said the stallion.

I turned first to Auburn, trying not to be distracted by the luminescent void in the background that couldn’t decide between blue and purple hues. “I’ve known for a long time that you aren’t a real foal. House Keeper certainly confused me for some time since I thought you two were related.”

“Continue,” she said, clearly nervous.

I felt a rush of panic. “I’m not trying to vanquish you or anything—I hadn’t thought about that…”

“There’s no need to worry,” the brown stallion said serenely. “This answer you should also know, yes?”

“You both are parts of me…” I answered.

“Not rocket science, but yes,” Auburn remarked.

I sighed. “Mere days ago, I feared you, thinking you represented my ‘femininity.’ Still, that never felt correct to me. I mean, since becoming a filly, I haven’t internally rejoiced or anything; it’s just—different. But I was so fearful of your mere existence that I hid from anything that could even tangentially connect you to me.”

New realization dawned on me, and it opened my mind with succinct clarity only possible in a realm of pure thought and emotion.

“In a way, it reminds me of my childhood. Even then, I was always avoiding things as I do now—even benign indoor activities like singing, dancing, and pretend play as a child—just so nobody would think I wasn’t masculine enough. Maybe it was because I looked up to my sister more than anyone, but she’s just cool.”

The filly nodded for me to go on.

“But, with all that said, I think you’re actually the internal turmoil caused by imagined, judging eyes. You being a filly is simply because that’s what’s hardest for me right now. All of it is rooted in fear, whether it be for failing, losing the approval of my peers, or even acting too much like a ‘happy pony. Though if I’m, to be honest, the hardest one for me right now is falling short in my duty to do what I can for Rhod. And that means getting those keys from the friendship students.’”

I took a breath.

“I’m going to have to take some risks. But I’m now capable of doing what needs to be done, without flinching at the searing gazes of others—who probably don’t even care anyway. I can go to the filly honor society or whatever if I need to—I’m not going to suddenly change. Doing something just means I did something. Others might perceive me differently, but it doesn’t change me. With Rhod on the brink, I can’t concern myself with the shallow assumptions of others. Still, I do wish they would dispense with the princess treatment.”

Auburn smiled like a proud mother. “You really picked up a lot from your dinner ‘date’ with those colts, didn’t you?”

I smiled, quite content. “I wore a dress for the first—possibly only—time and it went as bad as it could have from my perspective. To my point: ponies saw me differently all of a sudden, which was my worst fear. But I survived that fallout. More importantly, I know that Diane won’t even judge me for it, so what do I care anymore? I’ll play the part of a filly princess a bit. If I like it, then I’ll worry about that then.”

Auburn closed her eyes, at complete peace. “I think I can move on—not that I’m a ghost or anything!” she said in a cute, panicked burst. “Just remember that you don’t need to be afraid of yourself. If you conquer that fear, everything else will fall into place.”

She instantly disappeared and was replaced with hundreds of little lights that bounced toward me, coalesced into a small sphere, and phased through my chest. The only real emotion I felt was the afterglow of her subtle pride.

Without delay, I locked eyes with the brown stallion and then shot him a quizzical look. “You sure you’re up for doing whatever the heck she just did?”

He nodded, bringing his gaze to my eye level to deliver his warmth.

“Uhh… I don’t really have a full speech for you—or at least I wouldn’t have one that’s too different from hers.”

“It’s all right,” he said, with all the patience in the world.

I chuckled. “You would say that—given what I think you represent. Same as my fear with Auburn—I didn’t want to be seen as childish in any way. I had to confront this sooner than the filly-related problems, so I guess that’s why I ‘met’ you first.” I sighed. “I think the difference is that my de-aging is a real threat to my existence and my sense of self.” I took a breath. “It’s very, very scary—I’m not going to lie. But maybe some things—like my curiosity in the face of a new world—aren’t so bad. And—of course— it’s okay to lean on others sometimes. I’m going to need to get used to that for a while.”

I froze.

The stallion walked towards me in complete relaxation. His eyes spoke of catharsis and relief. Before I knew it, he had shrunk to my size, and the next instant he was an identical copy of me.

“You’ve done well,” the foal said, but with the same voice as always. “I was sad at first when you were scared of me.”

“I thought you were Harmony itself; of course I was scared,” I replied.

He nodded, pensive. “I have nothing more to say. You stole all my points.”

And so, he too became one with me. While I had expected an almost divine charge of realized potential, I felt only the satisfaction of having taken two steps forward.

“That just leaves House Keeper…” I said weakly. “She’s not the same as you guys, but for some reason, I can’t forget about her—her prison extends well beyond the mind. I still want to try, though. I’ll try—someday—if she’s not Key Number Twelve that is—but even then…”

I awoke with more energy than usual. While that was nothing out of the ordinary, something felt different. As I stretched at the tent entrance, a few steps away from a sleeping colt, I briefly considered mischievously leaving before our chaperone awoke. I quickly changed my mind, sympathizing with his caution in managing a dozen-plus foals.

Okay, today is the day I turn it around! I’m not going to see ‘one key out of twelve’ and feel discouraged. I’ll focus on each friendship student as I interact with them and not put the others in the back of my mind. Rhod’s survival might come down to this, or it might not. I just gotta be diligent… without forcing things. Here goes the next step.

My mind clear and heart ready, I held onto that feeling of dynamism as I waited. Burning certainty filled my core as my tent mates woke up and chatted. I could feel that electric power even through breakfast.

Unfortunately, that energy didn’t last, as another boring Rainbow Dash lecture later, I was groggy atop a cloud with the rest of the pegasi.

“Hey, River!” The last voice I wanted to hear called out. Somehow I knew exactly what it was about to do. I reluctantly turned my head to see Alibi with an arm around Zephyr Zap.

“Turns out me and Zephyr Zap get along real well…”

I sighed. “We’re still doing this?”

“I’m in this for the long haul!” he gloated.

This—is going to be exhausting…

Author's Note

Sticking points are a strange thing when writing. I was on a roll until the acting class. Finding a compromise on that scene, I wrote the (hopefully final) dream sequence in a single sitting, and then I got married to the idea that I needed a better ending scene.

Chapter 51

I shook my head at the Alibi antics.

Where is he getting volunteers to be his fake marefriend, anyway? I sighed. Zap, I thought you had higher standards than that.

She seemed to wilt under the attention, and then I realized I had been unintentionally glaring at her, so I broke eye contact.

Instead, I considered that with the benefit of my first childhood on Rhod, I should know how to deal with characters like him. Unfortunately, I had never encountered anyone so eager to annoy me personally. I don’t know if it was strict military discipline stifling such nonsense, or if I just didn’t stick out back then.

Fortunately, these thoughts helped me be temporarily oblivious to the curious onlookers scrutinizing me.

So if I ignore him, he continues trying to make me jealous with fake marefriends until it works, and if I get baited by it… he’ll probably still be encouraged.

I made the mistake of meeting his gaze. He waved a single time trying to look cool, but it turned out goofy.

Why me?

I was so desperate to shake off my internally festering annoyance that I tried to remember what Rainbow had just lectured about. Unfortunately, I struggled to remember anything, save for my earlier amazement at how boring magically-controlled weather could be.

I’ll get you back… somehow. Maybe. I don’t know. When am I ever going to have time?

Rainbow clapped to get our attention. As the crowd turned, many of us became curious about the smaller cloud hanging eight feet above the one we currently occupied.

“Okay, young speedsters let’s get started! I say that, but stunt flying is more than speed; you’ve gotta have fundamentals. Even if you’re a natural like me you still have to master the fundamentals or you’ll get stuck.”

She paced in front of the line of us.

“Last time was just to assess what you’ve got. This time, I’ll actually give some pointers and start instructing.”

Sounds like an improvement over flinging me off a cloud…

“But to start, let me give you all a demonstration.”

After verifying that everypony was watching, she backpedaled and then gathered speed into a slight gallop. Instinctively, I steeled myself for the storm-quality winds that would be whipped up by her launching into flight. Instead, just a few paces before reaching the end of the runway, Rainbow jumped, flaring her wings just slightly. Like magic, some subtlety with her wings allowed for almost all of her momentum to be redirected vertically. The result was an elegant backflip that launched her ten feet in the air onto the higher cloud she had placed earlier. If that wasn’t impressive enough, she landed perfectly on her hooves, needing few, if any, midair adjustments.

The whole class applauded. I joined in late once their reactions convinced me I had actually seen what I had seen.

She wasn’t flapping her wings or anything like that! How did she get so high?

Dash hopped down with a triumphant grin and stretched her neck out in a show of confidence.

“Now, who wants to try next? She asked, running her eyes across the dozen and a half of us.
I felt a shared aura of timidity as most of our group unconsciously stepped back. I made a calculated decision to imitate them. I wasn’t afraid; I just didn’t want to go first.

That only left Zap.

She suddenly became aware everyone’s gaze had gravitated towards her. “Me?” she finally asked. “I mean, is it okay if it’s me first again?”

Rainbow nodded, and given permission to be her outgoing self, Zap’s wings started buzzing.

“Here I go!” she declared, charging headlong towards the edge of the cloud.

She flapped her wings once with delicacy as she timed her jump—and tumbled head first into the open sky.

I heard the buzzing return a second later. After brief mental static, my brain fessed up that it had momentarily forgotten that Zap, unlike me, actually knew how to fly.

“Not bad for a first attempt—especially since you didn’t wait for me to actually tell you what to do!” Rainbow said, suppressing the urge to laugh.

Zap blushed. “Sorry.”

“I love it! Rainbow declared. “A mare after my own heart.” She hugged her.

Rainbow’s subsequent explanation didn’t make me drowsy, but it was challenging for me to follow. She explained it with such confidence and energy that it was apparent she understood the physics of every motion necessary to launch a pegasus with minimal flapping.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t follow it too well. Despite my best efforts, I struggled to retain most of the technical explanation. In an effort to salvage something of the mini-lecture, it occurred to me that there were two key elements to the trick: letting the wind catch my wings on the updraft and redirecting my momentum by using the elastic properties of the cloud. I figured it was oversimplifying it, but at least I would be able to learn from the others’ failures.

“All right, then. River Glade, you want to go first—I mean second?” Rainbow asked.

I looked to my left and right: sure enough, the rest of the class had strategically retreated.

I started to sigh and formulate a mental complaint out of habit, but I actually wasn’t that irked. After all, success was unlikely, to begin with, so I figured I might as well get it over with so I could concentrate on learning from the others’ attempts, rather than dread my turn.

Rainbow walked over and gently adjusted me. “You want to aim your launch path dead center of the cloud. It gives you the most leeway.”

I nodded.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she said.

In a moment of resolve, I smothered my fear and galloped towards the end of the cloud. I was pretty sure I could get the bouncing part, but catching the winds may as well be impossible.

For a protracted moment, my forward progress seemed to slow. A tendril of intuition reached out from someplace deep inside and tapped my mind as I remembered the best idea I had ever had in the form of a simple question: what if I drew energy from the winds, rather than the Earth?

My forward charge seemed to resume its proper pace and I made a somewhat fearful, but nonetheless decisive decision. After all, I had managed it once before.

I hopped forward at an angle and boldly opened my mind. There were traces of a familiar force, though it was much weaker than what I was used to. I had intended to draw it into me, but instead, I found myself engaging in a hidden, wordless dialogue. I flared my wings at its “suggestion” and angled them intuitively. It felt like folly; nonetheless, I allowed it to wash over me.

The backflip was actually the easy part, but still, I expected to faceplant. After all, it was too naive to expect a hastily thrown-together collection of ingredients to come together into anything resembling a success.

To my disbelief, I was carried gently upward. I felt like a feather in the wind, but my palpable physical momentum seemed to exist independently. I spent a half-second wondering how this could be.

In doing so I missed the apex of my jump and found myself at eye level with the target cloud on the way down. In stark contrast to the weightlessness of a moment ago, I dropped like a rock onto my rear end of the base cloud. Somehow the lack of a punishing physical impact seemed to make the sting of embarrassment all the worse.

I moved to stand up but quickly did a double-take to confirm my sneaking suspicion that I was on the edge of the base cloud. Despite my surviving one crash, the land below suddenly seemed a terrifying distance away. I reflexively did a backward roll I would struggle to repeat in a desperate bid to survive. This, of course, left me in what must have been an undignified position on my back, my legs and wings splayed out to increase my surface contact.

I stared at the expansive blue sky, which was obscured only by the target cloud.

At least I didn’t have to repeat my crash landing performance from last time.

I finally righted myself and took a glance at my gawking classmates. It was about what I expected.

“River—” Zap voiced with a puff of breath.

Beakington beamed. “That was—”

“Amazing!!” Rainbow finished for him.

“What?” I asked flatly.

“You were amazing!” she clarified.

“But I botched the landing!”

Rainbow laughed. “That’s the easy part! You won’t make that mistake again. I would have been happy if any of you got in on your third attempt, but you got it first try!”

“Show us again,” Alibi encouraged.

“But I—”

“We can wait,” Mortar Strike said, less-than-helpfully disarming my intended objection.

I scanned the smiles of my classmates for a break in their unanimous approval.

I melted under the scrutiny. “Uh… I’ll be frank: I almost fell off the cloud, and I—I don’t want a repeat of last class.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Rainbow asked, amused.

“Yes?” I responded.

“Pfft. That’s easy,” Rainbow said dismissively.

I wanted to snap back in a show of childish anger.

“Alicorn wings are different,” she explained. All you have to do is stick your wings out and you’ll glide… eventually, anyway. Twilight stopped crashing after we found that one out.”

“You’re just telling me now?” My anger coalesced in such a way that I sounded coldly detached.

“Oh, I didn’t let it slip my mind or anything,” Rainbow replied. “You see: there was a small chance you would have flown brilliantly on your first try—like you’re such a natural that you wouldn’t want training wheels or have anyone breaking down your mechanics.”

I stared at her perplexed, caught between residual annoyance and reluctant acceptance of her point.

She struck a pose with her front legs crossed over her chest. “I may not be the most responsible pony, and I love a good prank, but I always take flying seriously!” She struck a pose with her front hooves.

I nodded at her in appreciation.

“All right, who’s next?” she challenged.

The drill went on. After three ponies or so, I started to wonder if I would get another attempt, or if we would move on to something different. From Rainbow’s comments, the point of this trick was to improve both our takeoffs and our intuitive feel for our connection to the wind and the sky.

Remembering my mission, I looked around for Brass Ring. He was hard to miss, being bronze and gold, so a fleeting glance alone told me it was his turn to attempt the stunt. This gave me a little more time to strategize. It took me about eight seconds to mentally separate his friendship problem from Rough Rider’s. It had to do with him living up to the expectations of being someone’s friend.

I felt a weight and a pulling sensation of sorts at the prospect of pursuing the keys once more. The possibility of failure was looming large with the increased stakes.

Him, Rough Rider, Noble Truth. The others are hard enough, and I still only have one key. I sighed. There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s a good guy, and other ponies would have no problem being his friend. I don’t get why he puts so much pressure on himself…

“You think River did good because she’s an alicorn?” A filly I hadn’t met asked Windy Skies.

Probably…

“Absolutely not!” Rainbow announced, literally jumping into the discussion from out of nowhere with complete disregard. “Twilight still can’t do this. Besides, this sort of exercise barely uses a pony’s wings.”

I still felt undeserving of her coming to my defense. I doubted I could repeat my performance.

Brass Ring jumped and managed the backflip, but only got three feet in the air. To his credit, he landed on his hooves.

“You all right?” Alibi asked me.

I snapped out of my deep thought and regarded him. His big, black eyes seemed scrunched in genuine concern, but I knew better than to trust it.

“Yeah, more or less,” I said. “Just thinking about important things is all. I mean, you were there: you know what’s on my mind.”

“We’ve got time, and we’ve got multiple ideas, so it’ll probably be all right,” he assured.

What do you mean ‘we?’

I thought about saying it aloud but thought better of it.

“Well, I’m not much of a help for most of those options, so I have to concentrate on my role. I can’t just kick back and hope one of the other plans works,” I eventually responded.

“That’s not what I mean…” he said, somewhat hesitant.

I paused.

Was he actually trying to make me feel better, or was he trying to set me up?

Fortunately, I was saved from having to think about it thanks to Brass Ring’s return giving me an excuse to exit the conversation..

“Hey, Brass Ring!” I said with a little too much energy. “Have you thought about what we talked about before?”

“What now? Do you mean the restaurant?” “What did we talk about again?”

Ponyfeathers! I had hoped he would remember for both of u…

“You know, your high standards for friendship?”

On your end anyway…

He shrugged. “Mostly the same, but then again, I haven’t tried too much.”

“Have you met anyone you might want to be friends with?” I hazarded.

“No, not really,” he answered curtly.

“Well, if you want any advice, I’m here for you. We can strategize together.”

He stared.

I smiled awkwardly.

He shook his head in vexation. “I get you’re practicing princessing, but I don’t need a second mother.”

I looked down, dismayed. “I—I get it, but I… yeah, you’re right…”

He walked away while I was wallowing in shame. Stupid alicorn status confusing the power dynamics…

Alibi crept back towards me. “That didn’t go well, did it?”

“No…” I replied, not even mustering the energy to object to his eavesdropping.

“The old joke I hear is that stallions already have years of getting bossed around by mares to look forward to, so I get why he’d say that. Herds are rarer than my intel said, but I guess the joke still applies.”

My slight discouragement exploded into a pang of anxiety. “I just want to talk to him,” I mumbled. “I don’t care about this ‘filly talking to a colt thing’. I’d have asked the same question to a filly!”

Alibi grinned. “Ah, but it’s not that simple,” he chided. “Maybe you’re too young to understand, but there are a lot of unspoken rules to pick up on. Basically, everything is secretly courtship—even if it’s not courtship.”

Part of me acknowledged that he may have said something profound, but the larger part of me was just annoyed at the implication.

“I—I’ll figure it out,” I finally said through clenched teeth.

We made eye contact. I braced for him to jab at me because he hadn’t done so yet. Fortunately, Rainbow called him for his turn, and our conversation ended there. Alibi failed spectacularly at the stunt—somehow managing to bounce off a different cloud entirely and into the lake—but even that didn’t improve my mood much.

Contrary to my expectations, I managed to do the cloud jump again. Unfortunately, any triumph was soured by my quiet realization that my duty may be even more troublesome than anticipated. The net result of all of this was me returning to my tent feeling a bit glum.

I found myself secluded in the tent. Technically there were a few others present, but I wasn’t acquainted with anypony. More relevant was that I felt the reappearance of a phantom weight that had been dragging me down lately. I couldn’t place when exactly it had appeared, but it struck me like something long ignored was suddenly in the foreground.

I sighed. I knew the cause; it was something I had long suspected would manifest. After all, I was now noticeably smaller than everyone else in my classes.

Breathing in, I tried to lay out what I knew and assess my options.

The weight of the world is truly on my shoulders… Was my first (unhelpful) thought.

Still, it wasn’t completely true. In fact, me, contributing was actually an outside possibility. I knew it would probably be Quarrel, Diane, and maybe even that robotic emissary, Riks who would actually be the main actors. Even as young as my body was, I couldn’t stand to relieve myself from warranted pressure and responsibility. It was an integral part of me: I had to do whatever I could, no matter how small.

But my body will still protest this… stress.

I knew the day would come. A foal’s psyche and constitution just weren’t fit for what was required of me.

Celestia would coddle me if I voiced a single complaint. But this won’t work either… Come on, think!

I stared intently at the ground as I was washed with further clarity: this wasn’t work; all I had to do was help some foals with friendship problems.

I tried repeating this blunt fact to myself to little effect. If Equestria had taught me anything, it was that the immediacy of the moment can make all challenges—big and small—scale in importance. Even if “old me” would have laughed at my stressing about relationships with pony children, I still couldn’t help it mattering to “River Glade.”

It wouldn’t help anyone to wallow further. The adult in me suddenly re-emerged and temporarily parted the clouds. I still wasn’t going to cry to Celestia, but it was imperative that I break down this monster of a task into something a foal could handle. I needed to simplify.

“They’re just children…” I muttered. Like me, they struggle to fit in sometimes. Their problems aren’t complicated, but they feel big to them.

My eyes went wide as the answer jumped out right in front of me.

That’s just it! I can see their problems for what they are. I don’t need a grand scheme to resolve these problems; I just need to help them see what I see: they’re all perfectly normal foals—all the more so because they’re weird or silly! Spectacle, Pestle, and my other friends all have their quirks, but they’re more than worth being friends with!

I tapped my left forehoof idly as I came down from my epiphany. I just needed to keep trying to get through to them—connect with them.

My racing thoughts eased up. With that said, I wasn’t sure if the task was any easier, but I had to do it!

As if trying to escape my internal turmoil, my restless hooves had almost taken me outside into the open air. I acquiesced to their conspiracy once I realized it, but I still derided them for thinking the outside would be any less stressful with all the annoying ponies treating me as a tourist attraction.

“Hey, River!” I heard from behind me.

“Hi, Pink Diamond,” I hailed.

Honestly, I didn’t think I’d ever been so happy to see her. Chatting about nothing in particular seemed really appealing right about now.

“How are you doing?” I asked.

“Great! I love the camp life! I get to try so many different things. Social dancing, knitting, puzzles—they’re all so fun!”

“So you got the activities you wanted?” What am I doing? I can’t waste time with small talk…

“Mostly,” she answered. “I wanted to get into advanced gardening, but there was only one class slot. I probably need another year of practice before I’m ready for the next level, anyway.”

I laughed, perhaps a bit forced.

“I can certainly prove the notion that you should walk before you run. Rainbow Dash says she’ll make a decent flier out of me—if I survive that is...”

“She said that!?” Pink Diamond said, in total shock.

“No, no. I lightly embellished the second part. The point is, I’m not ready for the class; it’s not an ideal fit. I’ll get through it—I think—but I probably would be better off doing beginner stuff with Scootaloo.”

Why am I running away? I have my friendship mark in front of me, but I’m not even trying to make progress with her.

“Who’s Scootaloo?”

“Oh, she’s one of the first ponies I met when I arrived at Canterlot. She was on a school trip with her—no maybe it was just her friends… I don’t know. But I like her well enough and that’s all that matters, right?”

“That’s neat!” She said chipperly. “It was similar for me when I first got to Canterlot. But I guess everything is a new learning experience for me. After all, the whole Crystal Empire had been in stasis for so many years…”

Capitalize on the opportunity! She's just a filly with filly-sized problems. I can do this!

“Oh, that’s right!” I exclaimed. It had been mentioned only briefly to me. “I imagine you don’t recognize the world you came back to.”

She giggled. “Princess Celestia praises me for being so ‘adaptable.’

“What do you talk to the princess about? Not to pry or anything… but it’s probably different from what I talk to her about, though.”

I knew in broad strokes from Celesta’s notes, but hearing her tell it could be valuable.

She took a single moment to think. “I guess I can tell since you’re a princess—sort of!”

I’ll let that slide this time…

“You don’t have to tell me everything. I just want to know a little bit as your colleague in this exchange program.”

“I haven’t heard anyone else use the term, but I guess we are. Just think of it, how many foals our age get to say they have ‘colleagues’?” She giggled at the word. Then something seemed to occur to her. “And Princess Twilight is our most famous alumnus!”

I smiled. Slowly the warmth from our discussion pierced the guilt that I was avoiding the “work” in favor of small talk.

“I’m glad you got into the program. I might be like you: my parents signed me up, and I still haven’t gotten Celestia to tell me what my friendship problem really is.” I said.

Pink let out a laugh that suggested she could relate to the truth portion of the half-truth I had just concocted. The elder alicorn certainly liked to treat teaching like an interpretive art form in which her hapless student would be made to circle towards an unspoken destination.

“I kind of think that’s like mine,” she began. “I’m pretty sure it has to do with me being too worried about other ponies liking me. I mean, I’m good at being myself, but she keeps bringing it up like it’s something I need to work on. Like, I’m happy with myself—I think. It’s rather confusing…”

Half of me related heavily to what she just said. Another half of me felt like I was back to square one. And the other, mathematically illiterate half of me, couldn’t shake the suspicion that the solution to her dilemma was staring me in the snout.

“How’s camp for you so far?” she asked. I could almost see some tension let up in her facial muscles.

“Pretty good,” I answered with little thought. “I was worried that I wouldn’t like most of my activities, but aside from a botched landing, they’re mostly good.”

Although tackling rabbit problems with a delusional super spy filly and an actual super spy changeling is certainly something…

“What about you?” I asked, in a bold conversational countergambit.

“Pretty good!” she said with such pep that almost suggested she was waiting for an excuse to tell me. “I made friends with some of the middle schoolers from the neighboring towns. They were really nice. I was able to tell them about what our school is like and stuff.”

“Middle schoolers?” I asked.

It was a term I knew, but it made no sense in the way she was using it.

“They had to explain it to me too. Some smaller towns have too few foals for independent school districts but too many to just have one lower elementary and one higher elementary, so they have a third teacher for the ‘middle school.’”

If you’re so good at making friends, why do you need me? Was a tempting response, but probably one of the worst available. Nothing else was really coming to me so I settled for the best I could come up with.

“Are you making new friends in your activities?” I asked awkwardly. I felt like an idiot a second later, though, because those middle schoolers could very well be in the same activities as us.

“Somehow, that’s a little bit harder,” she said, weary. “I think it’s easier to be myself in front of younger foals; they seem to think I’m cool.” She giggled. “I told them I was going to FIlly Honor Society as an observer and they think I’m a mover and shaker.”

“Oh, that. Yeah, I plan to go as an observer as well,” I replied, hoping my answer was benign enough to let the current topic pass unheralded.

“That’s strange. I thought we were voting you as chairfilly for Canterlot First’s chapter.”

I stared at her.

She stared back, confidence slowly faltering. “And I guess I wasn’t supposed to tell you—”

“Pink!” I said a bit too loudly. I think I did well controlling myself regardless.

“Yes!?” she yelped.

“We’re friends, right?” I challenged, licking my chops in preparation for a verbal lashing.

“Y—yes?” she replied, unsure.

“And wouldn’t friends tell friends if said friend was about to be the victim of a coup?”

“Wouldn’t a coup normally entail toppling somepony rather than installing her into a vacant position?”

“I stand by my wording.”

She swallowed. “We all think you’d do a good job—haha.”

I sighed. ”I became a prin—sort-of-princess just weeks ago. It’s not like I’m already on top of the social hierarchy.”

“Well, everypony at school wants your advice.”

“That’s different,” I answered quickly.

“How?”

“Well, that’s because—you know what? It’s not really different,” I confessed. “You all kind of snuck up on me like that.”

I saw guilt and a tinge of sadness on her face.

“It’s not all bad,” I hastily assured her. “I can handle advice. Leading meetings AND directing
activities is another matter entirely, though.”

Why am I downplaying it? My “court” is quite the hassle…

Pink Diamond suddenly visibly flinched and started looking around desperately. “Ah! I promised Waffle Crisp I’d meet with her. Gotta go! Bye!”

And just like that, I was left gazing at a trail of dust.

With some time still on my entirely metaphorical hands, I took a few uncertain steps toward my next activity. The moment I looked up, though, I saw someone I actually really wanted to chat with.

“Oh, hey, Bulwark. It’s been a minute, hasn’t it?”

Her expression was sour. Oh, good. I needed more friendship problems.

“There’s a lot of talk,” said Bulwark. “They’re saying you’re actually little—like really little. That you’re a gifted foal that skipped lower elementary. But I don’t need gossip to know that you’re a lot smaller. I can still remember you throwing me off my hooves when we first met. Right now, it’s obvious to me that your legs aren’t long enough to pull off the move you used.” Her expression relaxed slightly. “You said you would explain it, but we haven’t really seen each other.”

“Sorry.” I said, without any real follow-up planned.

“It’s fine. I’m not mad, but—well, more than anything, I’m concerned.”

I sighed. “I wouldn’t blame you if you were upset. It’s really hard. I have a lot of weird circumstances that are really difficult to explain. For starters, I’m not from Neighbraska, but I can’t really say where I was born. I’ve also been getting younger. Both are secrets I imagine you know..”

Bulwark nodded. “Even seeing the change, it’s difficult to believe. Don’t living beings always snap back to normal when transfigured?”

I nodded. “I wasn’t sure that part was common knowledge, but it makes explaining easier. It’s—well, essentially, there’s an issue with my magical signature.”

Bulwark’s concern was plain on her face. “I’ve heard some unicorns talk about that before. Are you going to be okay?”

“I hope so… I mean, yes, I’ll be okay.” I felt bad for the white lie, but I wasn’t about to burden her with worry by disclosing the enormous pressure on me.

I’m doing the right thing, right? I can’t tell her I might turn into an infant and that I may basically die with all my memories being erased…

“Can you share a little?” She asked, with mindful patience.

I locked eyes with her and felt a flood of guilt. “My story from before—it was more than a little untruthful. The thing about being raised as a colt was a lie in the spirit of the truth. It’s… really hard for me to explain what really happened, though. It’s little consolation I’m sure, but I had my reasons for pretending to be a colt.”

I’m not about to tell her the truth that I changed genders. At best, I’ll confuse the living daylights out of her. At worst, she’ll think I’m some kind of freak…

“Were… you trying to disguise the fact that you were chosen by Celestia?”

A small panic popped off in me. “What!? What does that mean?”

Bulwark lightly rubbed the side of her snout with a hoof as she weighed her words. “Well, there’s some talk that Celestia chose you to be the next princess. I mean, Princess Celestia chose Princess Twilight, so I guess you would have been a chosen one of sorts. And nopony would believe a colt would be the next princess…”

That makes sense, but I guess truth really is stranger than fiction. Even I don’t believe it sometimes…

“Well, that rumor is partially true—I mean, at least a little. Celestia is trying to take the pressure off me, but she also has to protect me, especially now. Heck, I have a small division of pegasi guards watching over me at all times…”

“Oh, wow! I never noticed. Were they watching our mingling?”

I laughed despite myself. “Probably. It was probably a good thing I didn’t think about it at the time. Guess it goes to show I’ve gotten overly used to them. You’ll probably notice them now that I’ve told you. They’re not exactly masters of stealth…

Reminded of an actual master of stealth, Bulwark quickly scanned the sky. “Is Star Chart here?”

I shook my head. “No, she deserves a vacation,” I said in the most bland tone I could.

“Oh, River! I’ve been looking for you.” Spike announced, dashing towards me in short bipedal strides.

Bulwark smiled. “Thank you for telling me a bit more. I know it was selfish of me to get mad.”

I shook my head. “I’m the one to blame. Sorry for not being more trusting.”

With that, she nodded and galloped off.

“Hi, Spike,” I said, somewhat unsure of myself. I hadn’t interacted with Spike much, and I struggled to recall which iteration of me was the last he had seen. “You enjoying camp so far?”

Really? All I can do is small talk? I can talk to the Crusaders just fine. Is it the Twilight’s personal assistant part?

“Yeah! It’s been great!” He responded. “Other than me being totally unathletic—but four out of five activities have been good. Not much superhero news lately—only two incidents and the Miser’s been conspicuously absent after the jailbreak.”

I saw Alibi a dozen paces behind Spike, and he waved. I gazed deadpan daggers at him.

“That’s…strange,” I replied, somewhat nervous. I knew Celestia wouldn’t want me to out Alibi as a supervillain, especially considering our current location, but even setting him aside, I had to be especially tight-lipped about any changeling involvement.

“But I’m getting distracted with my own interests again,” Spike said, regaining his precocious professional demeanor. “I’ve got a letter from the Princess!”

“Which one?” I asked, somewhat stiffly as he waggled a scroll.

“Oh, right! With Twilight, it’s usually Princess Celestia, but you wouldn’t assume that. Anyway…”

He cleared his throat and broke the seal on the letter.

“Actually, Spike, I think I’ll read it myself.”

He sighed. “Yeah, that’s probably best. Orating is fun, though—makes me feel official…”

I scanned the letter. First, Celestia had agreed to my request to use the portal to visit with my sister intermittently. She had also found a mare that—with the help of a shrinking spell— would be able to use the portal and deliver the mana crystals and other supplies to the Rhod coalition. She also acknowledged that a desperate or violent solution with the Korpix might ultimately be necessary but pleaded for me to exhaust the alternatives first. Finally, the princess had confirmed Twilight’s hunch that there could be a third portal in the castle garden, though a more thorough investigation would be warranted.

He looked at me as if expecting something.

“Sorry, but it’s confidential stuff. Though, I’m still glad to see you again.”

Spike nodded. “If you don’t have any questions, I’ll send an acknowledgment back to the princess.”

He pulled a piece of parchment out of a pouch around his hip, scribbled on it with a quill, and ignited it. Within seconds it was dust.

All I could muster was a blank stare of confusion. It was good to know that Equestria could still throw me the regular curveball.

Spike suddenly hiccuped, and I took a cautious step back. He belched green fire which, to my surprise, did not set the grass ablaze. Instead, a perfectly preserved piece of parchment emerged when the flames subsided.

Spike read it: “Also, my sister says hi.”

I gazed through him, as I tried to make sense of what I had just seen. There was something of a pile-up in my mind, so the last thought bounced out of my mouth with no thought.

“You have a sister?”

“What? No, Princess Luna is Celestia's sister. She's the one saying hi. I mean, I guess Twilight is kinda mine, but she's…look it's complicated.”

I nodded my head. It seemed the thing to do. Setting aside my slight disappointment that I didn’t have a ready-made assistant waiting in the wings, I found my thoughts were slightly more organized now. “You can… teleport things by breathing fire on them?”

“Mostly just letters, but, yes. I asked Twilight to explain how I’m able to pinpoint the recipient’s location, but she wouldn’t tell me, citing a ‘centipede’s dilemma.’”

“That’s still pretty useful.”

“Well, I mean, I’d still rather have a real superpower…”

“Wait, so you aren’t using a special type of dragon magic?”

“Nope, just started doing it one day.”

“Well, how’d you start?”

“Umm… let’s just say—I may have sneezed in the proximity of Twilight’s diary…”

I cringed. “That must have been something…”

He nodded; a moment later his eyes spoke of a realization. “Oh yeah, I have another message.”

I instinctually stepped back.

“No, no dragon breath this time,” he explained. “Applebloom just told me to tell you to meet with her in the cafeteria about fifteen minutes before lunch.

I nodded in acknowledgment. Had my mind not been frayed by all the stress, I might have been able to figure out what it was about. As it was, I was curious about what it could be. As I pieced that thought together, I noticed that I was feeling a bit better.

I haven’t even done anything. I’m not complaining, but what good is a bunch of unproductive conversations when you desperately crave progress with eleven friendship problems?.

I continued to walk, starting to let my mind wander. I didn’t need to head straight to my next activity, but my hooves were taking me there anyway. I caught a glimpse of somepony I couldn’t place, but I froze a second later when I realized.

“Oh—hi, Mix-Up!” I hailed.

The pegasus turned. “Oui?”

“Oh—I…”

Oh, yeah, just say hi to the friendship student without a single plan or idea in mind. Genius move, Alice!

“You getting used to Equestria okay?” I asked, a bundle of nerves, praying that he wouldn’t see through my superficial improvised strategy.

“I suppose,” he said simply. Flying training is good. Social Dancing? Not so much.”

I took a breath. “There are so many ponies around here. Nopony’s worried about where anypony might be from. I hope you can get some practice with Equish while having some fun.”

He tugged on the duster scarf he had wrapped around his cerulean fur. It was a shade different from my own mane, but I lacked the vocabulary to explain precisely what the difference would be.

“So-so,” he said curtly.

You know, I might be able to help you,” I said with a smile, hoping that I could manage to come across as somewhat sincere. Admittedly, I was under pressure to get this task done, but it wasn’t like I was totally indifferent to him struggling in social situations—I had done that plenty myself since arriving.

“Why would you say zat?” he asked, somewhat skeptical of my offer, but not completely cold.

There was a moment of panic, which I must have been telegraphing with my eyes. Yet, one moment later I felt a rush of elation when I was struck by inspiration. Meanwhile, I briefly registered the tent to the left of me opening.

“I actually became acquainted with a zebra filly the other day, and I think that she’s a bit like you—a fish out of water I mean. Her name is Mindre. Maybe you could talk?”

“I don’t know—I’m not so good with ze fillies.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite,” Mindre said, proudly strutting out of the tent. I locked eyes with Bulwark, sitting inside the tent, and she waved.

When did Bulwark get back? This was their tent? With Mindre too? Whatever, if anypony asks, I planned everything!

I grit my teeth at these rapid developments. I felt I had lost all control, but I steeled myself by acknowledging it would take at least this much to be successful in my mission.

“Mix-up, this is Mindre. She’s a filly from a distant country.”
The recipient of my introduction grinned. “She means I’m a zebra.”

I winced slightly. At least the distant country part wasn’t contradicted… Still, I couldn’t get a good read on the Prench colt.

“So, Mix-up,” I began. “If Mindre is willing, maybe you could share your experiences regarding coming to a new place, culture shock—the whole package.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” The zebra said simply.

The three of us all glanced at Mix-up as if we had rehearsed it.

“Well…eer… but I do have a hard time talking to ze fillies…”

“You’re talking to three of them right now and not having any problems,” Bulwark countered, making the pegasus colt suddenly blush. “Seriously, you’re doing great! Nothing that would scare a filly away.”

Fortunately, Mindre seemed to know exactly what to do. She advanced a couple of paces and regarded him softly. “Look: we don’t want to make you uncomfortable or force you to do anything you don’t want to. Maybe we can talk during lunch to start.”

Mix-up nodded, relieved somewhat. Still, after hastily agreeing to a meeting place, he practically bolted, apparently at his limit.

“Thank you, Bulwark. You too, Mindre.”

“Sure thing,” the zebra said. “It sounded interesting, so I’m happy to help.”

Bulwark made eye contact with me. “It’s the sort of thing friends do!”

I couldn’t place it exactly, but I got the sense that she was also subtly taking the opportunity to needle at me and all my secrets. Regardless, the outcome was good.

I had left my tent half an hour in advance of my next class. When I got to the chess space, I was only five minutes early. In the abstract, that had been an exhausting gauntlet of encounters, but somehow I got through it okay.

The teacher hadn’t arrived yet, but Squirt was helping Iron Jill set the boards up again.

“Good game you played today,” said Jill.

“What? You mean the one where I dropped my loose center pawn?” Squirt replied, dejected.

“But you were winning!” Jill countered.

“If I was, I lucked into it,” said Squirt.

Jill stood up tall and pumped her arms to make a proclamation: “You know what they say: the best isolated queen’s pawn is an unprotected isolated queen’s pawn.”

“That makes literally no sense,” said Squirt as he swapped the king and queen on a board that was out of alignment.

“Well… you know, it’s like if you have no need to defend the pawn, it means your initiative has reached the point where your opponent can’t really take it.”

“But she did…” Squirt ventured.

Jill sighed. “I know you’re not where you want to be on the ladder, but you’re taking all the right steps to improve, and—oh, hello, River didn’t see you there!” she said with a hearty wave.

Squirt flashed a wide grin at me before moderating it a bit. “Hi. Didn’t know you took up chess, River.”

“I didn’t pick my activities myself, so I didn’t know either!” I replied chipperly.

“Ah, that’s right… Anyway, we were thinking about playing Trolls in the recreational tent after dinner. Daft Hat got the new Savannah Expansion! You’re in, right?”

I was happy for about a second before I remembered and sighed. “If you had asked me yesterday, it would have been an easy ‘yes,’ but alas, I’ve been committed to the Filly Honor Society. Umm… there are reasons, but they’re a bit hard to articulate…”

Squirt shrugged. “I get it.” He absent-mindedly turned both black knights on a nearby board to face straight forward toward the enemy formation.

“Like I said: I hardly want to go! It’s not like I’m totally getting into filly stuff now.”

Jill put a hand on my neck in solidarity. “It’s true. A girls’ sleepover was out of her element, but she did it for me. I imagine it’s something like that now, right?”

“Exactly!” I voiced, smiling at my minotaur pal.

I looked at Squirt for acknowledgment.

Surely that will convince him!

He thought for a few seconds and then visibly thought for a few more to piece the words together. “I mean, you pretended to be a colt for years. I don’t want to deprive you from learning how to deal with other fillies.”

I felt a little directionless anger; then that cooled to annoyance; finally, I just pouted.

Why’d you have to say something so sensible?

I sighed. “You’re not wrong, and that is part of the reason I’m subjecting myself to this… ‘experience.’”

Despite what he had just said, he looked slightly disappointed. I knew Trolls got exponentially better with more players, though, so I knew it wasn’t just about me not playing.

“But promise me you won’t stop inviting me for that reason!” I hastily urged.

“Ok. I can make that promise,” Squirt said, pensive. He then cracked his neck and scratched a fetlock. “I’ll try and wash off that defeat in the lake, but I gotta stretch first before swimming class.”

He thanked Jill for the lesson and then turned back to me. “You’ve got a good teacher here—and that one stallion I suppose—but try not to surpass me too quickly. I’m insecure enough already.”

“You can say that again,” Jill admonished. “How many camps have you been doing chess again, three?”

“Four,” Squirt corrected. “Gotta keep the facts straight so I don’t look more impressive than I really am.”

Jil shook her head. “You’re just a few good habits away from being good…”

Squirt laughed half-heartedly, primed to gallop off, before turning back awkwardly to acknowledge us again and galloping off for real.

“I didn’t expect you two to be on such good terms,” I said.

Jill smiled. “I have you to thank for that.”

The praise reverberated within me and compelled me to deny: “That can’t be! You’re giving me too much credit. I know the wings and the horn might suggest otherwise, but I’m not suddenly some kind benevolent sage…”

Jill idly shuffled a king that was already perfectly placed on the starting square. “It wasn’t anything big. You just helped me realize I can connect with others. Not to mention, you were the only one nice enough to come to the sleepover. From there, I was able to have a little confidence, and I took it from there. From Squirt’s perspective, I think it gives him confidence that he’s on good terms with a filly.”

I frowned.

Jill, tried to wave away the bad vibes. “No, I don’t mean it like he has romantic confidence. It’s sort of like confidence he can be friends with more than just colts who are like him. I know because I get that mutual feeling by being friends with Stardust and Sunny Style.”

I guess we have that in common now: she’s ‘the minotaur’ and I’m ‘the alicorn.’ That’s a little annoying, but it’s probably something I can get used to.

I truly didn’t know where to take the conversation from there. I tentatively decided that I’d be okay taking credit for my mundane actions. Fortunately, I was spared the need to continue the conversation when Alibi and a colt I didn’t know showed up in short succession.

I guess he hasn’t found another fake marefriend yet.

As more ponies filed in, I started to notice that I wasn’t the center of attention for once. Fast friends took seats at some of the tables and discussed strategies. I envied them, but I wasn’t desperate enough to strike up a chess conversation with Alibi.

The teacher arrived a few minutes after the last student. His lecture today was about space advantages. Jill chimed in politely when she could, reminding us that we didn’t have to understand all of this just yet and that the first step was just not losing your units for nothing. The stallion, meanwhile, was always eager to return to the topic of the day. I got the sense that it built his ego hearing himself talk about this esoteric topic.

So, he’s just telling us that it’s good to advance your pawns?

Just when I thought I understood it, he launched into a series of warnings about blindly advancing without regard to the squares you weaken, leaving me wondering if he was giving us any practical advice at all. I was happy for the lesson to end since I was clearly not getting it. Fortunately, Jill assured us that it would make more sense as we got experience.

For my first game, I was paired with Clever Theorem. We were supposed to be paired with opponents of roughly our own level, but most of my wins were against Alibi. I was optimistic when Theorem failed to heed the lesson’s advice and gave a pawn away on her third move. This was dashed quickly, though, and before I knew what hit me, her bishops and queen were slicing through my position and took my king’s head.

“Don’t be too down on yourself,” Theorem consoled. “I’ve been taking this activity for a few years now. I lost so many times to an aggressive colt that I emulated his style.”

“Is there anything I can do?” I asked her, still grappling with my loss. “It felt like I was losing before I knew it…”

“Just watch your f7 square!” she advised. “You got into big trouble by not blocking it off with your king’s pawn.”

Having been routed quickly, I paced around the playing area, trying to pick up some ideas for my next game. After completing the circuit, I realized that this was easier said than done. Half the games were one-sided blowouts with the losing side at least a piece down. The top board was one exception: black had a wedge pointing at white’s king, while white‘s pawns were far advanced on the other side of the board.

For my next game, I got the pleasure of playing Alibi again.

I ought to lodge a complaint against this whole ‘ladder’ idea. If he keeps winning and I keep losing after we play, we get nowhere and get paired together again.

Despite my slight annoyance at the circumstances, we played a fairly competitive game. I thought I was playing smart moves until I realized that my position was a mirror image of Alibi’s.

I guess we played all the same moves but in a different order.

This equilibrium didn’t last, and with some exchanges, I was left with an isolated d-pawn, similar to the one Squirt had earlier. Alibi instinctually aimed a rook at it.

I grinned. Thanks to Squirt’s game, I knew how to handle it. I didn’t have to be afraid about losing the pawn.

I somehow won the game, but it didn’t feel right. Alibi was pushing me around, and it took all my energy to survive. He dropped a piece after my protracted struggle, though, allowing me to steer the game towards a pyrrhic victory.

A few minutes later, I stammered my justification to Jill. “But… you said that Squirt didn’t need to defend it. How is it true for him, but not for me?”

“Because it wasn’t a good idea in the position you reached. Just because that evaluation was true in his game doesn’t mean you can just blindly imitate it.”

I scratched my head. “Chess is hard.”

“If it wasn’t, no one would stick with it long term.”

“I guess…” I groaned.

After everyone else had finished, we congregated for Jill and our teacher to do a quick run-down of all our games. When we got to mine, they were actually very kind, pointing out what I did right. Apparently, Jill had saved her sternest criticism for our private discussion. The stronger players even chimed in on what they might have done. I would have felt a little embarrassed, but honestly, it was completely genuine.

What a joke. My human classmates would be laughing in disdain if they could see this kind of hand-holding and back-patting.

I scanned the outdoor classroom. Everyone was smiling and engaged. Reconsidering, Jill had also given me the tough feedback I needed to hear.

Is measured praise really so wrong? A tougher approach would encourage us to… work harder, or would it?

A few months ago, I would have cursed it as another touchy-feely pony thing, but the results were staring me in the face with all the foals (and whatever Beakington was supposed to be properly called) having a good time.

I was in a good mood, unfortunately, that meant I had let my guard down. Waiting to ambush me was Pink Diamond and a couple of brightly colored fillies I didn't know.

Pink Diamond greeted me. “Hi, River! These are the middle schoolers I was telling you about. This is—

“I’m Waffle Crisp!” said the orange unicorn with a caramel mane.

“I’m Bouquet Ribbon. A pleasure to meet you, your high—err… pal… I guess?”

“You’re more perceptive than most,” I conceded. “I don’t have any official title—no princess in training nonsense. I’m Celestia’s student, but so is Pink Diamond.”

Pink Diamond felt the admiring eyes of her friends and blushed. “Oh, don’t be modest, River, you’ve been her student for how long?”

The others’ eyes returned to me.

“Not as long as you’d think,” I countered.

“Since we’re all being so honest, I may as well admit that Pink Diamond briefed us on the ‘you not being a princess thing’,” Bouquet explained.

I felt a wave of deja vu that I couldn’t place for a moment. Then it hit me.

“Pink, didn’t we learn last time not to do that to me?”

“What do you”—her eyes dilated. “Oh, that. I still feel a little bad about that.”

Waffle Crisp put a hoof on Pink DiIamond’s withers. “That sounds like a story. Tell us!”

Pink Diamond thought for a moment, then smiled, clearly succeeding in convincing herself. “Well, when River first got her wings and horn, I was telling some of the little foals about it and they wanted to meet her, and I kinda—sorta—volunteered her to help me read to them.”

Waffle Crisp let loose a shrill laugh. “You did that!? Pink, I’m younger than you, and even I know not to do that!”

“Sorry,” Pink Diamond said. “It’s not like last time, though. They just wanted to meet you. I only promised the introduction. I do think Bouquet had a question, but I’d hoped you wouldn’t mind…”

One question. How bad could it be?

I looked at the lime and pink filly and sealed my fate. “Ask away,” I said.

“Well, I’ve heard and seen you do your herd play-act with that pegasus colt, and I was wondering…umm…if you might let me join.”

My brain short-circuited upon abruptly connecting the dots following a momentary delay. My jaw dropped in sheer dumbfounding. I could almost feel my pupils dilate.

“She means Alibi Align,” Pink Diamond provided unhelpfully.

As if anyone else could cause this kind of trouble for me.

I shook my head a few times in exasperation. “I’ll still deny doing whatever you think I’ve been doing, but what the heck are you talking about?”

“I told you it was just a rumor that she was playing herd,” Waffle said, chiding her friend.

“Herd play is when young foals act out being in a herd,” Bouquet explained. “It’s old-fashioned, but it was supposed to be practice for the herd interactions. It’s just pretend, though, so you don’t have to worry about those rumors too much.”

I sighed and stretched a bit. “I take it everypony just saw me talking to him a lot?”

“It’s not just talk: it’s banter!” Waffle Crisp opined. “From the sound of it, you argue quite a bit, and that got ponies thinking.”

“He’s bringing in fake marefriends to try and win me over—or rather, trying to annoy me. Why would he do that if we were playing herd?” I challenged, raining down cold logic on their silly assumptions.

“Well, most thought you were acting out a scenario where he was having an affair.”

I rolled my eyes. What was there to say even?

“Umm… River?” Bouquet urged. “If you’re not playing herd, you should probably tone down the banter. He might think you’re into him.”

And somehow this situation has gotten stupider.

“Thank you for the advice,” I said, words dip-coated with all the irony I could muster.

“Any time!”

I sighed. “Look: I—”

Pink Diamond gasped. “We’d better get galloping; I’m going to be late to Social Dancing. Bye!”

“Bye.”

“Bye,” I spoke to the wind in annoyance, as the dust in their wake tickled my throat.

I channeled my annoyance into the soccer match in my next activity. I scored twice and generally played with my tail on fire. It did a lot to ward off my anxiety about the other ridiculous rumors and assumptions that surely were volleyed around me. To be fair, I doubted any could be as stupid as Alibi and me as play herdmates.

Think about something else. Oh, I know: lunch! And I sure earned it!.

I sensed a presence.

“You… you did well,” Blue Horizon panted. “I’ll have to level up my game for the next time.”

“I suppose you were on the other team now that I think about it,” I said thoughtlessly.

Blue Horizon reacted as if I had skewered her. “Am I just—you don’t—” Her eyes teared up. Then, something shifted as a grin and a fire in her eyes overtook the dejection. “Exactly what I would want my rival to say. Enjoy it this time, Lua—err I mean…”

I snapped to a stop. “When did you figure it out—wait—I never introduced myself to you even, so how—”

“Was it a secret?” the athletic filly asked in utter innocence.

I shook my head and facehooved at my own oversight—I had participated in our whole rival schtick without even realizing I wasn’t even in disguise.

I sighed. “I don’t owe you the story, but the reason I adopted the persona in the first place has become utterly irrelevant. If you’ve figured it out already, that’s actually one less awkward conversation I need to have. Uhh… we can work out the details of what this means for our rivalry later.”

Figuring I had fulfilled my social obligation, I took two steps to resume my march toward the cafeteria; unfortunately, she was on my tail.

“Aren’t you going to ask how I figured it out?”

“No.”

“Please,” she pleaded. “It’s a really compelling story. First, I asked around and nopony knew you. Then I noticed the lack of a cutie mark, and then the resemblance of you to Lua became undeniable.”

“So where’s the compelling part,” I panned.

She forced a laugh. “Good one, River!”

For a while, we were silent. I started and stopped a few times, but she dogged my steps all the way to the cafeteria.

“Look,” I finally said. “I have an obligation to deal with in the cafeteria. You can watch it, but please stay out of it. It’s only really relevant to Canterlot First students anyway.”

“What if I want something more interactive?” she asked.

I rolled my eyes. “I guess you could come to the Filly Honor Society meeting tonight., I hazarded.

“So you are participating then? Cool! I guess the rumors are true.”

Her chipper demeanor seemed to wear off like a Pestle Mix specialty potion. “But, I don’t go to Canterlot First or Second; I don’t think—”

“It’s fine! I invite you!” I blurted out. I could practically hear internal hissing at my lack of impulse control.

She walked a little ahead of me and pumped a foreleg. “That’s really great! I appreciate you doing that for me. I imagine you have unlimited invites, but it still feels like something special. I’m going ahead then!”

“You’re hungry too?” I asked.

“Not especially, but I want to get a good seat for the big event. Catch you later, Lua—I mean River!”

I sighed. Would the grapevine surrounding me ever cease to disappoint?

For a split-second I found myself thinking things would go up from here. Then I remembered what I was heading towards.

I entered the cafeteria.

I saw the Cutie Mark Crusaders right away. They were joined by a pinkish/purple filly I had never seen before.

“Hi, River!” Sweetie Belle greeted. “This is Diamond Tiara.”

Diamond Tiara shook her head. “I can introduce myself, thank you very much. But yes, I’m Diamond Tiara’ I used to be a school bully myself before these fillies made me realize the emotional baggage I was carrying around. It’s the least I can do to help another pony turn over a new leaf.”

“Well, the filly in question is…a bit hard to deal with.

Diamond smiled. “Don’t worry. I want to do this. I’d help anypony out.”

Just then, both of us caught sight of Annuity at the same time.

An awkward realization unfolded on Annuity’s face, followed by nervousness.

Diamond, for her part, almost recoiled at the sight before settling into a bitter anger.

“Any pony but her,” she clarified.

Author's Note

Surprise!

Chapter 1

In the grand, gilded halls of Canterlot Castle, the eminent perfection that was Princess Celestia sat stiffly on her throne. The late afternoon light framed her in golden light, converging on the petitioner at the base of the steps as if putting him in the spotlight.

“Furthermore, this will strengthen domestic trade, empower our craftsponies and beautify our marvelous nation,” the stallion continued. “And…” The brown pegasus cleared his throat, allowing the rapid scratching of a quill to be heard.

It’s been awhile since I’ve heard this one, Celestia thought to herself.

The stallion nervously shuffled between his pages of notes and placed a detailed map of Equestria on the stand to his right.

“Specifically, its construction will put millions of bits into the construction industry…”

Transport Bridleton produce...

“Allow the hardworking earth ponies of Bridleton to sell their produce to the greater metropolitan region west of the chasm…”

Next is usually tourism or something about Marathon Equestria.

“And encourage tourism to one of Equestria’s most tragically unappreciated natural wonders, the Grand Geysers of Calamitous Chasm!”

Look at that: bingo already.

Celestia mentally slumped on her throne and put an exasperated hoof to her chin, but outwardly, her regal look of thoughtful contemplation was unshaken.

She looked to her scribe, a perky vanilla earth mare with her pink mane in a bun, as she eagerly jotted down every word.

“I for one recommend Saddle Arabian sandstone for the main body of the bridge, while my broth—er… somepony I know’s mine can provide embedded gemstones to make the bridge the national landmark it rightfully deserves to be. But th—those details can be handled later, of course. I humbly beg for your approval, Princess.” He finished with a deep bow, pressing his nose into the polished stone floor.

Princess Celestia gave her trademark benevolent smile, making sure to iron out it any disappointment that might have leaked through.

“This is a very interesting proposal. I can see you spent a lot of time on it,” she said.

“Yes, thank you Princess.”

“I must ask, though, do you recall the depth of calamitous chasm?”

“Yes, Your Highness, twenty-two thousand feet deep.”

“And across?”

“Seven and a half miles at its narrowest point.”

“And how would you propose to support the weight of such a bridge when it’s over four miles off the ground?”

“Well… ummm… steel beams I would assume. Maybe wood if cost is an issue?” The stallion was clearly flustered.

“The region is also known for its extreme natural temperatures; I think that might be a problem for traders, especially during the summer.”

The petitioner excitedly started to hover.

“I thought about that, Princess! We could get a weather team from nearby Fluffyvale to manage the hot weather.”

Celestia gave a deep internal sigh that threatened to escape if she was not careful. It also took incredible resilience not to facehoof at this.

“It’s a good idea,” Celestia said, “but I’m not sure a small earth pony village of two-hundred inhabitants and half-a-dozen weather ponies to its name would be able to manage a site that’s an hour’s flight away from them.”

The pegasus’s hooves clicked on the ground as he landed. “I… I hadn’t thought of that.”

“And if I’m not mistaken, aren’t the Grand Geysers ten miles north of the section you want to build over?”

“Yes, but....”

“And I would be concerned that the nearby Diamond Dogs wouldn’t be able to resist decorative gems.”

“I… I…” The stallions lip quivered, ears drooping. “I’m sorry Princess!” he said prostrating himself before her. “I hadn’t thought this through at all. I’m sorry for wasting your t-t-tt-time.”

The stallion bowed deeper to hide his misty eyes.

Looks like I went too far. Am I losing my touch?

Celestia stepped down from the throne and took a few steps towards the pegasus.

“Don’t feel bad, my little pony. It is thoughtful of you to want to bring attention to the needs of an often forgotten region of our country.”

“But… the bridge…”

“No, it probably won’t work,” she said with sympathy. “I can see this is important to you, though. If you think of another way, I would love to hear it.”

He perked up. “Yes, thank you, Princess. I’ll come back when I have the perfect solution!”

The stallion bowed for the umpeenth time and walked out past a pair of motionless royal guards.

Celestia let out a breath of exhaustion and spread her wings dramatically—she had wanted to stretch them for the better part of an hour, but their size made it impossible to do so discreetly.

“Should I call for the next pony?” The armored unicorn guard asked.

“No, I believe that will do for today. Promise the remaining ponies that I will hear them tomorrow.”

The pair of guards nodded and stepped outside, leaving the Princess alone with her young scribe.

She glanced over at the young mare’s cutie mark: a quill and parchment. It was a special talent that was becoming rarer and rarer. Over the past century, her personal scribe had served as an entry-level job filled mainly by young unicorns looking to gain a foothold towards more specialized clerical positions. An earth pony that enjoyed the simple act of writing for its own sake was basically a throwback to a bygone era.

“Umm, Princess, do you need something from me?”

Huh? Oh I must have spaced out. Good thing I called court off early today.

“Nothing’s the matter, Quick Script,” Celestia said, causing the mare to blink in surprise at the direct address. “You seem to have taken to this job very well. Are you enjoying it so far?”

“Yes, Princess, it’s been an honor to serve you so far. I was always worried that my cutie mark wasn’t as fancy as some other ponies’. Look at my sister: She had a knack for runnin’ the family vineyard, while my parents went and tried to convince me I was best fit for managin’ the books. But being here is such an honor. I’m honestly flattered you find somethin’ like my flowery hoofwriting useful.”

“It is beautiful, Quick. I wish I could pen my personal correspondences with half the style and grace you achieve with such ease.”

“You flatter me, Princess,” the mare said bashfully, but a glint in her eye betrayed her internal exuberance at the praise. “This is a dream come true for me. Ever since I was a filly, I was taken by this scene—the royal princess sittin’ magnificently on the royal throne, helpin’ her ponies.

Should I? I wonder…

“Of course,” Celestia said with a grin, “as much as I love my little ponies, it can be taxing at times. The royal plot tends to get a bit sore after hours on the royal throne.”

The earth pony froze for a moment, not knowing how to react, before laughing and darting her eyes to the side.

“Of—of course not, Princess. Heck, you alicorns are amazing, no need to make me feel better ‘bout bein’ normal.”

I guess it was too soon… a pity.

“Oh, that reminds me. I noticed somethin’ a bit strange in here,” Quick said, changing the subject.

“And what would that be, my little pony?” Celestia asked, genuinely intrigued.

“When Short Sight was talkin’ ‘bout—umm… talking about decorating the bridge earlier, he was going to say his brother would sell the gems for bridge. You probably already noticed that, of course, Princess, but I’m wondering if he might have somethin’ of an ulterior motive—not that I’m pointin’ fingers or anything.”

“While that’s astute of you to notice, Quick, I don’t feel he was being dishonest. Bridleton sand rubies glow with a beautiful pink light when the desert sun is directly above. They complement sandstone rather nicely; the name’s a give-away. I feel he just realized how bad it sounded as he said it and backpedaled.”

“I see,” the smaller pony said, looking up at Celestia in awe.

“Although,” she mused, “if we’re talking about ulterior motives, then Ear Mark’s proposal the other day for educational reform would likely be the biggest offender this week.”

Quick blushed slightly. “But he seemed so passionate about helpin’ foals learn…”

“He’s on the board of a company whose publishing arm has a big stake in the elementary textbook market.”

“I see… sorry for speakin’ ‘bout somethin’ I don’t know anything about.”

“It’s perfectly all right; I value your input. I wouldn’t have known otherwise myself if I hadn’t asked Twilight for her thoughts on early educational material.”

And the fact that he oversold the point of improving education, name-dropped his organization incessantly, and gave about six dozen nonverbal cues of dishonesty.

Still, despite Celestia’s reassurances, the pony still looked down and nervously shuffled her hooves.

“Right, thank you, Princess. See you tomorrow.” The mare got in one last quick bow and scurried away.

“Take care,” Celestia called after her.

Left alone, she looked idly around the ornate, empty room.

I suppose it’s not quite time yet to lower the Sun, she thought. It’s been awhile since I’ve taken the scenic route…

It was a shame Quick didn’t respond well to her being more informal with her. She would have loved to have another pony around that could be her friend instead of just another servant. However, some ponies were just unable to look past the wings and horn and would genuflect on sight no matter what she told them. Sadly, Quick would probably fall into that category.

She found it a bit ironic at times that the universally beloved monarch of the land of friendship and harmony would have such difficulty making her own friends. While it had been difficult at first to outlive nearly everyone she would care about, she had long ago come to treasure their lives all the more for their brevity; if not, she feared she would have become callous towards her ponies in time. Instead, the problem now lay with others prostrating themselves and pushing themselves away of their own accord. It’s why she had been so insistent that Twilight make friends.

Celestia smiled at the guards, who saluted her, as she stepped out of the throne room and into a long, banal hallway, the walls painted with a recently added midnight blue stripe to commemorate Luna’s return. It was decorated with obres d’art in that stuffy, idealized style Celestia had never been fond of. Spaced equally throughout, on either side, were identical wooden display tables supporting seasonal flowers in a vase. On a particularly slow day last year, she had counted all the vases in the castle: eight-hundred sixty-four of them. And yet, her staff always seemed to be able to pinpoint and restock the right flower within an hour, whenever she opted for a snack on the go.

Ever since she had found a filly—well, a second filly—with the potential to complete Starswirl’s final spell, she had been looking for ways for Twilight to handle the immortality issue. She had been overjoyed that she had made the friends she had, friends that had known her before her ascension that would see Twilight Sparkle first, and Princess Twilight Sparkle second. She hoped Twilight could continue to make such friends, and who knows, if she could avoid the age-related barriers, perhaps her student could teach her a friendship lesson. As it stood, the years slowly built up, stick by stick into a formidable dam that increasingly stifled her ability to connect with the mortal pony.

And don’t get me started on dating, she thought. After all, unless she’s interested in Spike or Discord, it will only get harder the longer she waits.

With a smirk, she took a mental note of a fun potential “assignment” for Twilight; though she would have to wait to be sure such a prank wouldn’t send Twilight into a panic spiral.

As she turned the corner she felt a pang of longing. It may have been a bit selfish, but she sincerely missed having Twilight as a student. She had always brought out the best in Celestia and forced her to look at things in ways she’d never considered.

It was a joy to see Twilight through her formative years. She had loved her role as something of a second mother to her. Of course, she did have to share her with her parents, and there were times when she briefly wished she could have her to herself: Hearth’s Warming Eve, Mother’s day…

No, it was for the best. I should have be happy with anything that wasn’t a repeat of Cadance’s situation...

She shook the animosity of that bitter time and began her ascent of the solar tower.

Maybe I should send Twilight a letter. I’d love to hear where her independent studies have taken her.

No, Celestia knew she shouldn’t. Twilight had come into her own as a fine young mare. She had the wits, the knowledge and the magic to make her own path as Princess of Friendship. Of course, she would make mistakes, perhaps some of them painful, but it was something Twilight could only do on her own. Her only weakness at this point was her insecurities. If Celestia had left it to her, she might have stayed under her wing forever, and if Celestia let her, she would quickly defer to her once more.

Writing to her would only be for her own sake; besides, she had no idea how to begin such a casual letter to Twilight, who would scrutinize every comma. Perhaps it was for the best; Twilight had her own life and her friends to enjoy. What a sentimental old mare she was becoming, living vicariously through her. She hadn’t thought she would emulate that part of motherhood!

Celestia came back into the moment and took in the sight of the stained glass windows lining the narrow tower, the winding staircase spaced appropriately to accommodate her frame. By tradition, she was the only one that ever came here, the decorations in the interior the result of a trickle of commissions over the years. They were for her eyes alone, but today that struck her as a shame. What good were they it if the only pony who could enjoy them paid them no mind, mostly bypassing them by flying to the top?

However, her thoughts had already used up the entirety of the ascent, and she stepped out onto the balcony of the Solar Tower. As she looked out over the palace, she happened to lock eyes with her sister. With the superior eyesight of a pegasus pony, Celestia saw her sister’s gentle smile and returned it.

Looks like we’re in perfect sync today, she thought, invoking the magic that had come naturally to her since her adolescence.

Luna’s return had meant everything to her. Having a pony around that could empathize with her really did make everything so much easier. She only wished it hadn’t taken a thousand years without her to teach her she had been taking Luna her for granted.

After all this time, it’s still so bizarre to me. A thousand years, to us, is nothing, relatively speaking, yet such a short time has redefined our relationship. Who knows what another thousand could bring? Will I come to blows with Cadance or Twilight one of these days? Will being a constant presence in each other’s lives breed apathy towards one another? Will it be an endless cycle between drifting apart and back together again?

Celestia glided through the halls to her personal bedchamber, giving a polite nod to the pegasus guard before entering.

It’s certainly a long road to take together, Celestia thought.

I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Closing the door, she made a habitual, self-conscious check of the room. Finding nopony, she dropped all royal pretense, plowing face first onto her posh bed while levitating her crown to a nearby nightstand.

The day had left her drained. While many would expect hearing self-serving proposals of the Canterlot elite would be the most grating part of day court, ponies such as Ear Mark were relatively easy to tolerate. True, the worst of the nobility was incorrigible in its entitlement. The insulation from the livelihood of the common pony that their wealth provided was matched only by the impossible thickness of their skulls.

At first, in deference to the tenets of harmony that kept Equestria a paradise, she had tried for years, directly and indirectly, to earnestly make them aware of how selfishly they behaved. However, after a few remarkably oblivious attempts to act on her urgings — including the foreclosure of Canterlot’s largest food bank in order to erect a hideously extravagant monument to generosity — she had ceased all efforts of reform in order to spare Equestria’s precious supply of irony.

Nowadays, freed from the burden of trying, she would take what enjoyment could be had from such meetings. She had mastered the art of tossing backhanded compliments and thick sarcasm into her tone of royal indifference while sidestepping everything without directly saying ‘no’. Such sessions had become relaxing, and sometimes some good could even come of it. Her greatest coup yet had to be duping a certain ingrate into trading most of his real power for the completely meaningless title of prince.

Instead, the real struggle was giving her full effort to cases such as Short Sight’s. There was a pony who earnestly wanted to bring prosperity to his own village and to those in the area. While she had tried her best to make it otherwise, a benevolent monarchy did not exactly foster proactivity among her subjects. Forward thinking proposals such as Short Sight’s were exactly what she wanted to see, yet at the same time, it was where she most felt the burden of her extended lifespan. So tragically often, the ideas brought before her seemed infantile and simplistic. She had seen countless variations of almost everything and perceived even the most nested potential problems as gaping holes.

But her ponies tried—they tried so hard, and she owed it to them to give her best, but despite herself, sometimes her impatience slipped through.

I probably was too hard on him, Celestia thought once more. Is it that he’s more fragile than I thought, or am I becoming most distant?

She took her early evening cup of tea in her golden aura and brought it to her muzzle.

Jasmine. Just what I needed. Copper Kettle always seems to know somehow. Whatever I pay that pony it’s not enough.

She soaked in the flavor of the tea and imbibed the steaming cup’s calming aroma.

I suppose anypony would get a little impatient after hearing the same dead-on-arrival bridge proposal three times in the last three years alone — from three different ponies no less. If it weren’t for Luna’s…. absence on the first two occasions, I just might suspect my baby sister of using her powers for mischief again. Although, I do have a sneaking suspicion that Fancy’s idea of a national diet awareness month may have come to him in a dream…

Celestia caught herself staring blankly at her own ethereal tail.

Well, what now?

It’s a question she had run into a lot recently. Rising at dawn was in her job description, but even so, it was still too early to hit the hay. This was the hour she had normally dedicated to Twilight, whether it be giving her personal lessons or simply furthering their correspondence. However with Twilight’s graduation, it became a regular block free time, a hitherto rare commodity.

Philomena is off doing me knows what, and if I go out to eat, I’ll have to deal with all the attention again. What to do?

She would normally have a mountain of paperwork to distract herself with, but Luna had begged for something, however small, to do until the ponies of their kingdom once more accepted the sisters as equals. Still, she felt a nagging pressure at her inaction.

Maybe I really have become a workaholic, she thought, finishing off the last of the tea, looking about the room for anything at all to do.

Her bookshelf overflowed with thick tomes at the bottom, while the top shelf had dozens of much slimmer books.

I will have to read those at some point, won’t I? she asked herself. I innocently ask my niece what her favorite book is, and she doesn’t let me go until I’ve borrowed half of her collection.

Celestia didn’t have to read more than a few pages to realize that romance novels hadn’t changed in decades. Their formulaic construction struck her as antiquated as the magical theories of the lower shelves’ dusty doorstoppers. In any case, she could stomach the tedium of neither at the moment.

She spent even less time considering the poorly-concealed trapdoor leading to her secret cake stash. Ever since the press learned of it, she had been extremely self-conscious of it. How those fillies had snapped that picture she had never figured out.

Sneaking in here alone should have earned those three a cutie mark.

Completing a full visual circuit of her posh chamber, her eyes fell on a golden mirror on the dresser. It had been a gift from a visiting zebra delegate some fifty years ago, and she had never found another that could compare—equally true of the mirror and the delegate himself. When light struck it, her face appeared imposed over a brilliant morning sun.

Approaching it, she mused that it was no wonder her ponies couldn’t see past her status and stature—the eternally bright Princess of the Sun. She alone could see past her alicorn features, shimmering mane and perfectly groomed coat to see the exhausted mare underneath.

Well, her sister could relate, but Cadance and Twilight were still far too young to truly understand eternity, and she was grateful for this; they had all the time in the world to be wizened, “all-knowing” rulers.

To think it could have just as easily been Sunset Shimmer to whom she entrusted Starswirl’s great unsolved magic.

Sunset…

Celestia took a deep breath, flared her wings and let the air slowly escape her after a moment’s pause. She had had more than enough somberness for one day.

However, that bitter memory had nevertheless given her an idea. She once more engulfed her horn in its golden aura and summoned a heavy redwood chest to her side with a pop of magic. She lowered her head and touched her horn to it, tracing phantom glyphs in a compact but abstruse pattern. What she had in mind was hardly warranting the precaution but some of the chest’s contents could make the Alicorn Amulet look like a magical kindergarten crafts project.

She fluttered her eyelids with a tinge of guilt before retrieving a simple leather pouch with her magic, sealing the lid and sending the chest away again.

This was bad for her. Both sisters had agreed on that point, but then again, it had been a comfort to her, over a thousand years before—in times like this.

I have matured since then. I don’t anticipate making the same mistake. Besides, I could benefit from a fresh perspective anyway.

Without delay, she reached into the leather sleeve and withdrew a plain hoof mirror, turning it towards herself. With a low hum it accepted her minimal deposit of magic, and she saw her face replaced with a pale blue glow. The monochrome oval of light then split in half as a window was opened to a vast blackness interspersed with countless dim lights.

Nothing. I had forgotten how often this quirky old thing would completely miss anything interesting. I never could fix it, though it’s not that big a problem.

As if turning a page with her magic, the mirror flipped to another scene, once more an empty corner of space.

But it certainly can be irritating when it happens three or four times in a row. I hope it’s not broken.

Fortunately, her next attempt was a success, and the mirror brought a deep, green ocean into view. It was dark and thick with sludge, but a simple magical filter brought the hidden wonder into view. An enormous, bright coral reef extended as far as her magical eye could see, in every direction. The portion she could see alone could encapsulate Canterlot Castle several times over.

Massive, slug-like creatures clung to the walls, feeding on and restoring the exterior of the reef’s structure. Jellyfish danced in long chains and a rainbow of colored light shot through their bodies in rapid oscillations. Occasionally one of the slugs would burst and dozens of tiny minnows would emerge to head deeper into the structure. Celestia had her view follow them, and she discovered a breathtaking, massive undersea volcano.

She froze in awe, but the fish continued, suicidally, headlong into the lava, transmuting her amazement into horror. However, the tiny organisms soon emerged unharmed, wearing coats of molten magma, which they then deposited on the outside of the reef before returning once more into the natural furnace.

Incredible… why did I ever stop doing this? she thought, enraptured by the alien ecosystem.

She was no ecologist, but she couldn’t help but speculate on its inner-workings. The collaborating creatures could even be sapient species — or the same species—and she would never know.

However, she soon decided it was time to move on. The mirror’s beauty lay in its wider perspective of existence, but this was far too dissimilar to her own world to truly relate to. Perhaps something closer?

With another subtle pulse of magic, she calibrated the mirror to find a plane of reality more closely aligned with Equus. The hoof mirror fizzled with static-like streaks of magic, and a trio of adorable baby bunnies came into view. They were fully bipedal and about the size of a ten-year-old foal. They wore content smiles despite their tattered and torn garments of clothing. A seven-foot-tall, gray-haired hare with feminine features stepped to the door. She pulled on a pair of blue denim overalls and waved her children farewell. The oversized infants gave knowing frowns and started to tear up.

Celestia’s view followed the mother as she stepped out into a homogeneous, monolith of a housing structure. Twelve stories high, the complex didn’t waste even a square inch of space. Rust-coated, iron barriers were the only safety precautions as hundreds of identically-dressed lapine bipeds hopped down stairs on either side in accelerated time. The observing princess briefly marveled at the speed before recalling the effects of time dilation on dimensions moving relative to one another.

Through sheer force of concentration, she managed to keep track of the mother bunny as she and thousands of others filed into what appeared to be a gigantic, enclosed, chrome street fed by three such housing complexes. This street merged with three others into another, which in turn mouthed out into another, larger street. The fractal pattern continued unabated for far more permutations than she thought possible, until the now-millions of lapines sorted themselves into elevators.

This is so dreary, Celestia thought. There’s too much order to this world. No shops, no color, no diversity, nothing.

Finally, the hare mare’s subgroup of about four-hundred exited the elevator shaft and into another chrome jungle, populated with ponderous gears and conveyor belts. The tall bunnies took their places and started to work with impossible speed that could only partially be attributed to accelerated time.

To Celestia’s surprise, the supersized, highly-advanced assembly line produced not farming tools or weapons of war, but little red wagons, the kind most foals would own at some point in their lives. They came off the line by the hundreds and were packed into crates to be carried off by a crane in groups of a dozen boxes at a time.

Just one of those crates would have enough for all the foals in three Ponyvilles. How many must they make daily? Are there really that many foals in this world?

In only two minutes of watching, Celestia saw a dozen crane loads leave through the roof. Not once did the workers break, despite their exhausted, grease-covered faces begging for it to end.

Then, without warning, a dozen black bandana wearing bunnies stormed the factory, some holding what appeared to be lit candles of bright red wax. The workers bolted in primal horror at the sight, but it was too late. The newcomers flung the candles at a nearby metal sphere with a gauge, and a brilliant explosion rocked the factory, sending overhanging machinery falling.
The belligerents charged, attacking the machinery with bladed weapons, abandoned tools and more of the explosives. What few did not run to the exits joined the attackers in their apparently unprovoked frenzy.

The princess could do nothing but watch in horror as the bunny mother was caught in a bottleneck of jostling and stampeding at the factory’s entrance. About half had escaped when, suddenly, a golden-furred lapine teleported to the top of a stationary platform overlooking the floor. Unlike those below her, she wore a luxurious black leather skirt and a chemise of velvet silk.

In a flash, she drew a long piece of wood that resembled a unicorn’s horn and sliced the air in front of her. A black sludge of magic replaced the floor. Bunnies, ones with and without the black bandanas alike, sunk into the ground, gasping for air. They squealed in pain as they sunk into the quicksand pit of black magic. The alicorn couldn’t help but avert her eyes as they overflowed with deep sympathy.

When she dared look again, the floor was clear; not a trace of the tragedy remained. She noted the crane descending once more, this time bringing black crates to the floor, carefully placing each of them. With a wave of her wand, the mage snapped open each of the boxes in turn, revealing machinery identical to that which had been destroyed. The steel doors opened, a new batch of workers entered. And they made wagons.

Princess Celestia was sobbing. The bunny mother had done nothing to deserve her fate, and it had taken all of Celestia’s willpower to not fall into her old bad habit.

This world is too much like our own. If our population keeps growing, and we lose sight of the individual… maybe those with magic could… no, it’s too horrible; I will never allow it.

Exhausted, she switched the focus on the mirror. Another world of steel entered the view: A metal superstructure topped with a grid of glass panels dominated the foreground, but its surroundings were unexpectedly serene. A wide river fed into a compact dam and irrigated the miles of fertile farmland surrounding the city of metal. This world, too, operated at accelerated time, and seasons passed in seconds. Blurs of automated farming machinery could be seen reaping the harvest.

I never understood these worlds. They look wonderful from the outside, but there are never any ponies in the cities. Last time I looked the machines seemed to burn the crops. What’s the point of these worlds if there’s no one around to enjoy them?

Quickly bored with the sight, Celestia once more changed the picture. She thought she could get one more in before bed. Besides, she probably wouldn’t do this again for a while.

In slow-motion, two armies clashed on a dull, balding plain, exchanging a flurry of claws, fists and magical blasts. One side appeared to be led by what she could best describe as bears with antlers. They were small in number but made up with it size and wore nothing but their natural fur. They might be mistaken for beasts, but their enormous pony-like eyes spoke of profound wisdom. At their side were pink and brown-skinned bipeds cloaked in the skins of other animals. A minority possessed their own fur, much like the ursines, while others had a single antler, a predator’s teeth or sharp claws.

Hybrids?

Opposite of them was a far more homogeneous force. Strongly resembling the hybrids of their adversary, these strangely familiar bipeds stood noticeably shorter, sporting simple chaps and red vests over white undershirts.

Neither side appeared dressed for the occasion, yet their unbridled ferocity came through strongly in spite of time apparently progressing through molasses. Both factions fielded unarmed brawlers on the front lines that delivered bone shattering blows, while volleys of magical light rained down from the back of the lines.

Warfare. The sad fact is that it can bring out the best in some, only to sacrifice the same ponies in a hurricane of senseless violence. Curiously, this is relatively tame compared to what I’ve seen on other worlds.

She examined the magics of both sides more carefully. The ursine side clearly possessed superior magic, but surprisingly, she could faintly detect any from the opposition; their mage squadron consisted almost entirely of women channeling magical arrows through a series of crystals. Although their magic was elementary from a theoretical standpoint, these furless mares possessed pinpoint accuracy that only one unicorn in a hundred could achieve.

Humans, Celestia realized. That’s what they remind me of. Although not exactly the same, she had seen several races like them in her experience.

The alicorn casually primed her magic to draw a curtain on the scene; however, an incandescent light, slowly building, caught her eye. Three of the full ursines gathered around it, apparently chanting while they infused it with an energy emanating from their paws. The humanlike faction’s archers caught notice of this and charged their crystals in a slowly brewing panic as they started to aim.

However, the charge of the spell reached threshold much faster than they could react, and the energy sphere took to the air in a slow ascent of orange smoke. By the time its potential targets had realized what had happened, it had reached its zenith. The frontline fighters fled, scattering, and surrendering their positions. Meanwhile, the ursines regrouped, readied their weapons and prepared to exploit the opening their magical onslaught would create.

Celestia watched tensely as hundreds of humanoids desperately fled the impact zone. In the course of ten minutes the magic had coalesced into a small meteorite and hung barely fifty feet above the battlefield. To her relief, most had cleared the area or were nearly out of range. However, one brawler refused to abandon his duel, catching his fleeing hybrid opponent in the shoulder and dragging him to the ground as oblivion edged closer.

The man gave an arrogant smile. He, like most of his species, stood almost a foot full shorter than comparable human males Celestia had seen in the past. His short brown hair gave the impression of a grassy outcropping on a cliff, emphasizing his prominent, rounded cheeks that lent a boyish look to him. Fearlessly, he pointed his left arm at his fallen foe and the crystal atop his wrist began to glow as he prepared to finish the bear-pawed man off. As the crystal’s aura traced the outlines of a magical arrow, the flaming inferno crossed the ten foot mark, hovering now almost directly over the two.

Celestia had witnessed more than enough death through the crystal today. She wondered why she was still watching. She couldn’t do anything about it. Besides, this was supposed to be a relaxing activity. Yet she couldn’t wrench her eyes away from the imminent incineration.

Is it because I feel I shouldn’t have shut out the scene of death from before? Because I turned a blind eye to their suffering? No, I fully recognize that uprising as tragic; loss of life always is.

Thirty seconds passed as the fireball edged closer. She felt a churning in her stomach at what she was about to witness, yet still felt tethered to her cross-dimensional seat.

Something caught her eye — a blur moving faster than even the patiently advancing magic above. It was another humanoid. He came running, his body and feet slightly blurred behind the smoke as he raced the meteorite, sparks of mana arcing from the dense mass of magic.

Seven feet.

A young, clean-shaven face plowed through the smoke.

Six feet.

He kicked off the ground and hurled himself towards the other young soldier

Five feet.

His mid-air tackle connected, and the boy was knocked high in the air, gaining altitude enough to threaten to clip a low-flying pegasus. His wild trajectory sent him careening dangerously towards the retreating line, yet he was now safe from a gruesome death. The other soldier collided hard with the dirt, rolling to a face-up position. A look of fear slowly changed to solemn acceptance as the meteorite ticked closer and closer to his face.

A bittersweet smile came to Celestia’s muzzle. So in the end, I do witness the nobility and selfishness that can bloom in times of war. As always, why must the mother of such virtue smother its own? I wonder…

She knew she shouldn’t do this. It was precisely why she had sworn never to use the hand mirror again, yet curiosity pulled her unrelenting towards the siren song of a question: would his magical signature make him saveable?

I can’t save him no matter what the answer is, even if I wanted to, so why am I doing this to myself? If I find his magical signature corresponds to that of a tree or a butterfly it only confirms the inevitable. And if he could have live on here as a pony or something else, I’ll feel worse about it, so why?

Ultimately she gave into temptation and, an aura of magic enveloping her eyes, trained her vision on the soldier who had thrown himself headlong danger.

What...

No… it can’t be. This is a mistake, she thought, sweeping the battlefield for confirmation of her conviction; however, the more she looked, the more of an outlier the first reading became.

Pear tree, earthworm, vampire fruit bat, willow tree, daffodil, blue jay, yellowtop mushroom, flea, poison joke, male labrador retriever... No one else has a magical signature even close to another pony in any of these readings, but no matter how many times I look, his reading says the same thing…

The meteorite now hung a foot above the human’s nose. Celestia estimated she had about twenty seconds to make a profoundly difficult decision.

No… this is for real. What do I do? I can’t leave him here: it would be like watching idly by as a barge full of priceless artifacts capsizes.

But he never knew anything about this; it wouldn’t be fair. But I don’t even know if I can pull this off. I just finished telling Twilight never to use her alicorn magic like this!

Celestia panted heavily and pressed her hoof down hard on the mattress underneath her.

What would my subjects do if I hurt myself attempting this? But... this could secure our future… Equestria’s future. I can’t just walk away.

Six inches away. The flowing colors of the alicorn’s mane stood still as she gnawed on a forehoof, a far cry from the composed ruler of mere hours prior.

What is the right thing to do? What would—I don’t know! There’s not enough time!

Her heart racing, Celestia dug deep into her magical reserves and concentrated on the fallen footman. Absent were any spell sequences, any mental constructs, or any of her millennias of wisdom. Fueled by raw emotion, her mana reserves ignited and bridged time and space, sending countless tendrils throughout the multiverse to find and retrieve the boy. She felt a searing pain in her horn, and she redoubled her magical exertion.

Finally in a golden pop, her target fell gently on the bed. Gasping for air, Celestia sent her last puff of magic at him. It thinned into wisps, making a cracking sound before a golden barrier engulfed the unconscious human with surprising vigor.

That’s odd, she thought. I didn’t think I had anything left for a full containment field.

Consciousness fading, she took last glance at what the diagnostic spell had printed over her field of vision:

Species: Pony (Alicorn)
Gender: F
Age: -10 wk.

I just hope I did this for the right reasons…

With that thought, her head hit the ground, exhaustion claiming her.

Author's Note

I originally was going to post this on an alt account. It's an idea that kept nagging me until I wrote it down.

Chapter 6

I ate a quiet breakfast alone in my room. If there was one perk of this world, it was the food. Everything was spectacularly fresh. Prior to Rhod’s subjugation, our crops had been bred to replicate the nutritional value of fruits and vegetables of the old human empire, yet some primal part of me could always taste that they were fake. I could recognize what looked like apples, potatoes, pineapples, and peaches; and their taste was so much better that I could almost believe that they were the very same our distant ancestors had.

Then again, with these ponies speaking a language I can understand, it wouldn’t be the least believable thing thus far. Although curious about this point, I figured such an elephant in the room had not gone unnoticed by them. I assumed if the triarchs thought it fit for me to know, they would tell me. Chances were it was the work of another spell.

Finishing a mouthful of greens, I moved onto the single scrambled egg sitting alone on my plate. I chewed cautiously, since to me, eggs were another luxury item. The one time I had tried them before, their appeal was totally lost on me. I supposed it was an eccentricity of the upper class, making it a gesture I could not turn down. It had the same freshness as everything else, but I liked it no better.

Having finished the meal, I decided to move on and stepped out of my quiet sanctuary, only to immediately have my senses assaulted.

“Howdy, Errant!” a familiar voice said as several sets of hooves approached me.

“Wasn’t it something like Air-on?” Sweetie Belle said.

“Whatever, human names are weird,” Scootaloo replied.

“Ya shudn’t say that.”

“How are we expected to remember it when his name’s not even a word. If he—ow!”

Scootaloo rubbed her horn with a hoof. “Sweetie Belle, how come you don’t have this problem. That’s the third time I’ve hit a wall with this thing!”

“It’s something I don’t really think about.”

Twilight, following behind, cleared her throat in a dignified manner to silence the three fillies.

“Hello Aron! We’re headed to the Canterlot Cultural Museum. They have artifacts and displays from all over the world, spanning zebra, pony, and even minotaur civilization. Since you’re new to Equestria, I thought you might want to come along?”

“Twilight’s making us learn!” Scootaloo groaned.

“Aw come on, fer a punishment, it ain’t all that bad. Big Mac wouda made me clean out the pig pens.”

I paused to think,my gut reaction to accept. A museum would most likely be fairly quiet, and it would be the perfect chance to better understand this culture. It was an opportunity that didn’t exist on Rhod. Inscriptions on memorials were the closest thing we had. I did want to go, however...

“I’ll pass,” I said. “It is a gracious offer, but Princess Luna has offered to let me spar with some of the guards, and I need to stay in practice. After all, idleness will dull even the sharpest of blades.”

“I see, that’s too bad. I guess I’ll see you later tonight then. I’ve been working with an expert, and the findings may pertain to you.”

I nodded.

“Yes, Princess Celestia may have mentioned that.” In truth, I had missed most of what Celestia had said after last night’s unwelcome surprise.

The fillies waved goodbye and followed their princess, hooves scurrying to keep up with her longer strides. I briefly pondered what their relationship to royalty was such that a princess would take care of them. It would be helpful to know what exactly their status was if not blood relatives. Staring at them for too long unnerved me, though, as it was a reminder of what I might become if I was not careful.

I followed the snaking hallway past the servants’ cafeteria and half a dozen double-bunk suites to a spiral staircase. I followed it down to the ground floor. From what I had been able to mentally map out, I conjectured I was near the corner of the castle.

Going down the stairs was awkward. Despite my honed sense of balance, I had to pay extra attention to find my footing. Considering they were designed for quadruped creatures half my size, I was pleased to do as well as I did with them.

I had to step aside for a moment to let an athletically built mare and stallion duo pass me. They were having an animated discussion about gourmet flowers, smiling and laughing as they casually strode down the stairs at twice my speed. Presumably, they had the same destination as I, so I had to wonder why they were being so cheerful? It’s what I had come to expect from ponies, but wouldn’t they be reprimanded for not taking their duties seriously?

I emerged into an open-area behind the castle. Perfectly cultivated grass and flowers demarcated the verdant area into distinct subsections. In one slender, rectangular space, two armored earth ponies charged at each other. Meeting in the center, each braced his back-hooves and tried to push his opponent back. In a different area framed by daisies, three unicorn mares let loose simultaneous magical blasts towards targets positioned thirty feet away from them. The target seemed to soak up their attacks like a sponge, and then the region struck lit up.

I breathed in, exhaling contentedly. It was finally a setting I could feel at home in. Visible magic aside, it was nice to see that some things weren’t so different from Rhod.

“Ah, you must be Aron,” said a particularly large copper, silver-maned stallion. Although pronouncing my name correctly, he had to enunciate it phonetically.

“Affirmative,” I said.

“Princess Luna said you might join us. Still, I didn’t expect you to be quite so big.”

His armor clattered as he closed the distance between us, stopping noticeably close to me. His muzzle was the height my neck, and I could practically feel his breath on me.

“Is that a problem?”

“Not really, but we don’t have any armor you could use. The minotaur sets won’t quite fit because you’re not as thick as they are. I’m sure we can come up with an alternative, though,” he replied.

“There’s no need,” I said, determined. “I can handle myself.”

“I suppose that’s all right,” the stallion acquiesced. He looked unimpressed. “Let’s see… who’s available right now. Oh, perfect timing, Trusty, how about you?”

I craned my neck to the right to see yet another pony invading my personal space. Today, he was wearing a helmet that covered his entire face and noticeably heavier armor. This warhorse image clashed so much with the perky pony underneath that it took a concerted effort for me to keep a straight face.

“I’d be happy to, Captain Big Stick, sir! What do you need me to do?” he said with naive enthusiasm.

“Aron’s here to train with us, and I’d like you to spar with him.”

The pony stepped back in surprise.

“What? I couldn’t do that! He’s a guest of the princesses.”

“I insist,” I cut in. “I need to keep up my training to stay sharp. Besides, I need the exercise, since I’m mostly stuck in the castle.”

I then started to stretch, did some squats, and threw a few quick punches. I felt better than I had yet in this world. I was well-rested, and my movements with fluid once more. The prior day’s sluggishness seemed liked a distant memory. Getting to rough up the overly chipper pony soldier was an added bonus. I could teach them how a soldier should be.

Trusty made a few more half-hearted objections, but he eventually agreed. I took my side of the rectangular arena and angled my body into a rigid fighting stance with my right foot bent and planted solidly behind me.

But before my reluctant opponent could get into position, the pony captain emerged from a nearby shed carrying a blunted spear in his mouth and a variety of weapons on his back. I briefly pondered how he managed to balance such a miscellaneous collection of items. This stray thought was immediately replaced with panic, as I came to grip with the implications.

“Wait! I can’t spar with you. Not like this.”

Trusty was in the middle of accepting the spear from the captain and set it down before speaking. “I understand. Even if we can’t hurt each other, I don’t care for fighting either.”

Elaborating on Trusty’s vague comment, the captain added, “You do know these weapons are blunted, right? There’s no reason for ponies to hurt each other practicing”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “We have strict rules of warfare on my planet. All the planets in our system are bound to it. Some prohibited weapons are so terrible as to defeat the noble purpose of war. Other rules are inscrutable and clearly developed by minds entirely alien.”

I hoped the answer from my old textbook would suffice. Almost reflexively, I felt the apprehension of being corrected by a non-existent instructor, as I feared I may have bungled a word somewhere.

“Sounds wonderful,” Trusty said.

“Well, we’re not on your world, so there should be no problem, right?” the captain said.

I shook my head vigorously. “Even touching such a weapon, blunted though it may be, would be a violation. My entire species would face reprisal.”

Despite most of his body being covered, I could see Trusty visibly perk up by his posture alone.

“Well, I’ve already gotten two sessions in this week, and I don’t have to do the third until Friday,” Trusty said. “If it’s okay with the Princesses, maybe we can go to lunch again. I feel bad about what happened last time.This time, we can go for a place for older ponies if you want.”

“Now hold it there, private! This is a valuable chance for the both of us. Sparring against other guardsponies can only prepare you so much for the unpredictability of combat. Aron here comes from an entirely different world, so you have no clue what he may have in store. This will be a good chance for you to get some experience.”

Trusty sighed. “Yes, sir.”

The captain turned to me.

“Will there be any issue with unarmed combat?”

“No, in fact, it’s our specialty.”

“Excellent. Take your positions.”

I took a few steps back and resumed my fighting stance. Trusty circled back and stood at the farthest corner of the ring. The space for the duel was comprised of a bed of a short-stemmed magenta flower. A dirt rectangle bordered the flowers, marking the limits of the duel space.

“Begin!”

With a moment’s hesitation Trusty rushed towards me at a steady clip. I jumped and kicked downward. Considering he was armored and that I had only my natural strength to rely on, I saw no reason to hold back. The perfect, full-strength kick only succeeded in rattling his armor a little, yet I knew I had done it correctly, since I had absorbed the recoil without a hitch.

Nothing?

I hadn’t expected overwhelming success, but my attack hadn’t caused even the slightest stumble. Still, I had no time to think, as he made a wide turn and charged once again. Favoring a different tactic, I dropped to the ground, rolled and attempted to take his legs out from under him with a sweeping move. Despite his momentum, his front hooves collided with my leg only lightly. He then was able to jump over me with ease.

He came at me several more times, and I resorted to side-stepping and pummeling his side with jabs and rapid kicks. Still, his trajectory remained unaltered by my attacks. I could have resorted to aiming under his armor, but on principle I felt my training should be able to circumvent this difficulty on its own.

I then tried to exploit his wide turning radius by jumping and attacking from behind as he approached me near the edge, but the strategy of knocking him out of the ring was irrelevant when I could hardly move him an inch. I racked my brain for an any alternate strategies, but he saved me the trouble by changing the nature of the struggle entirely. He slowed down to be able to better react to my movements. I still tried to jump over him, but this time he kicked with his hind legs as I was in the air.

Fortunately, it seemed his power was proportional to his size, but he still managed to knock me onto the ground. Trusty waited for me to get up and then tried to ram into me with his head down. I gripped his helmet and braced myself to push back.

My feet slid effortlessly back no matter how hard I pushed. I imagined the flowers below my feet scattering as if jumping out of the way, but I only looked forward as I crouched into my opponent, trying to bring him to a stop through sheer force of will.

I jumped over him and waited to him to charge again. We collided again and I poured all my remaining strength in a last effort—it was my only chance. My muscles ached, but nonetheless, he plowed forward like a speeding train, sending me flying out of bounds straight on my back.

My first thought was how strange it was that the flowers looked pristine despite our tug-o-war. However, I couldn’t spare this any thought, as I had a bruised ego to attend to.

How? I thought. His kick was so weak; it didn’t hurt at all. Still… I didn’t stand a chance.

Had a misjudged these ponies? Were they truly better warriors? No, it couldn’t be, for I was without my most important weapon. Even so, a flash of shame coursed through me. I had made Rhod look weak.

Trusty slowly trotted up to me and offered a hoof, but I refused it and hopped up in a single quick motion. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Surely he was mocking me. I had been pushed onto soft grass; of course I was all right.

“That was quite an interesting show,” the pony captain said. “Your two-legged fighting technique was rather elegant. You did well considering your opponent was using training armor. I take it it was in working order, you didn’t feel any pain, right?”

“No?” I said.

He nodded. “Good. I wasn’t quite sure the enchantments would work on extraequestrian races.”

I scowled. This species was too soft. What is combat training without pain. There was simply no shortcut to grit. The enemy won’t hesitate to hurt you, so why hold back in practice? All they were doing was creating soldiers who wouldn’t be able to power through a skinned knee. Losing to one of them became all the more repulsive to me.

“How about another round?” the captain asked.

Suddenly a blue light came streaking towards me from across the training grounds. I barely managed to duck in time, and it trailed sparks in its wake before landing ten feet behind me.

“Sorry!” said a lightly armored cyan and blue unicorn. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I did manage to dodge it,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

I was, however, irked that I was ninety yards away from her intended target and approximately seventy degrees in the wrong direction. The pony in charge seemed to agree.

“What kind of shot was that, Recruit?”

“Sorry, Sir. I don’t know what happened. I was facing ahead and aimed just like Mr. Battle Mage taught me. I don’t know what went wrong; I didn’t do it any differently this time.”

“You nearly blasted a guest of the princesses!”

The mare’s ears drooped. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry mister,” she said, scraping a hoof nervously on the ground.

“Sorry won’t do anypony any good on the battlefield,” he said, making a deliberate point to emphasize his height.

Well it seems like someone here finally got with the program.

“Sor—I mean, I apologize, Sir.”

The mare flashed a timid smile.

“What’s your name, Recruit?” he said sternly.

“Ocean Breeze, Sir.”

“Well, Miss Breeze, I’ll be sure to let the cafeteria ponies know that there will be no cupcakes for you tonight.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, moping a bit before lethargically trotting back to target practice.

What was that? If I had said something as stupid as that, it would have been a hundred laps around the practice field. Whenever something looks like it’s going to work out in a rational way, this place softens it up!”

“I’m done for now,” I said, exasperated.

Trusty took his helmet off and smiled in a way only he could.
“That’s great. I can show you around the garden. There’s this really cool hedge maze, and—”

“You’re cutting practice after just ten minutes?” the captain asked pointedly.

“Heh, I mean, I’m going to do whatever the nice superior officer thinks best! Maybe next time, Aron.”

A gathering cloud of dust congregated around his feet, and he sprinted away towards what looked like an obstacle course, leaving me with the massive stallion.

“As much as I’d love to discuss the fineries of technique, I have other ponies to oversee. You’re welcome to stay, or if you need it, I can assign someone to help you find your way back.

“No, it’s okay. Thanks for letting me participate.”

“Feel free to come by anytime.”

I went back into the castle and retraced my steps along the weirdly spaced stairs, navigating to my room on auto-pilot. The natural excuse is that my unenhanced strength was not enough to dent his armor, but I was above such excuses. I should have been able to beat him—or at least do something to slow him down.

A nap was probably in order. I wasn’t the type to usually take naps, but everything about this world just tired me out more quickly. Unfortunately, when I pushed open my door, I got an unpleasant surprise.

A particularly small pony with a feather duster in her mouth was swiping away at a bedpost. She had a cream colored coat, and her yellow mane was in a bob.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, politely as I could muster; though I had a pretty good idea.

“Oh, you’re back,” she said meekly. “I’m almost done I’m sorry. I’ll hurry and get out of your way.” With that said, she intensified her dusting to a comical speed.

“No, that’s okay. You don’t have to clean for me. That responsibility should fall to me.”

“Don’t be silly!” the pony said. “You’re a guest of the Princess. I suppose that’s princesses now. But if you insist, you can help me reach the higher places.”

I nodded agreement. It was mundane by any standard, but something boring in this world made for a refreshing change.

“Great!”

The pony finished off the bedposts and moved on to a nearby flower vase. After dusting it, she put her duster down and suddenly bit down on the daisy inside and quickly swallowed it. She then pulled a replacement out of thin air and put it back in.

Curiously, this mare had three flowers in the same place Trusty had his mark.

“A flower in a vase makes the world brighter. A pretty petal touch and a posey fit for brunch,” the maid sung.

Suddenly wary of an impending musical sequence, I made straight back for the door. “Hey, I just remembered I have something to do,” I said, shutting the door behind me before she could respond.

I sighed. I would need to find something else to do now to avoid losing face. Unfortunately, I could only think of one thing to do. The princesses had instructed me not to stray from the servants’ wing for the moment, Boredom may have been a problem otherwise, but I had expected to spend most of the day training.

I followed the hall back to the spacious area for mingling, near where I had met Luna. I turned right down a corridor where the wallpaper changed to teal. The cafeteria was a short distance away, filled to half capacity with easily a hundred ponies. The scents were strong and inviting beckoning me into the room bustling with ponies’ conversations.

Even though nobody noticed me in the crowd, I felt slightly dishonest as I approached the kitchen door. Pushing it open with a moment’s hesitation, I saw that the area behind the counter, was just as lively if not more so than the cafeteria proper. Aromas of baked goods wafted from a half dozen ovens, with a large, coal-powered one in the center. A row of mares and a couple of stallions chopped at vegetables with magic or mouth-held knives. Nearby, a trio of bakers were rolling out dough, and one stallion was tossing a pizza. Thankfully, instead of objecting to my presence,, a few of the ponies waved.

I timidly returned the waves and headed towards the back of the kitchen. A few toasters were lined up on short counters against the back wall. I looked around in confusion for the hidden door I was told about. As if answering my unspoken query an indigo, yellow-maned mare pushed a plain-looking wall, and it parted for her. She then took a plate of freshly baked bread in her mouth and walked in. I followed her down the secret passage as I speculated about the corridor’s location. If my sense of direction was right, we were circling the outside of the castle.

We emerged in a medium-sized dining room, where my hosts waited at an average-sized, unimposing table.

“Aron! So glad you decided to join us. Did you have any trouble finding your way here?”

“No,” I said.

“Feel free to help yourself to the appetizer plate,” Luna said.

At this, the servant mare curtsied—somehow this was possible with four legs— and wordlessly returned the way she came. I took a seat.

“So, how was training?” Celestia asked

“Fine,” I said, replying diplomatically “You ponies are certainly stronger than you look.”

She nodded serenely. “Yes, earth ponies are particularly remarkable in that aspect. Their connection to nature grants them strong muscles and good endurance. They’re also natural farmers and typically the best at understanding animals. This latter point makes Fluttershy’s talent all the more remarkable. You’ll probably meet her soon.”

Not having much of a response, I reached for a piece of bread and bit into it. Like everything else in this world, it was incredibly fresh and delicious.

“We must apologize for confining you here. We have a solution we are considering, but we need some time to work things out.”

She levitated an entire small loaf to her mouth and chewed. Somehow, this action was nothing but refined.

“It’s okay, there’s no place in particular I’m hurrying to see.”

Luna scowled. “You know not what you are missing! The panoramic diversity of landscapes, the multitude of different ponies. There are wonders natural and manufactured that even we have yet to experience.”

I quickly nodded in acquiescence. “Fair enough. Though I meant that my first outing is not something I’m eager to repeat.”

“Understandable,” Celestia said. “But still, perhaps we can find a way for you to have some experiences here you would enjoy.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Celestia smiled gently. “Well, what do you like to do?”

What do I like to do? I thought.

I barely understood the question. What was most important was serving my people. There were moments of levity in between, sure, but they were always defined by the struggle waiting beyond. It was for the best, we could waste time least of all against such an enemy as ours.

“I like to train,” I said. “It’s always prudent to strengthen oneself for the challenges of tomorrow.”

She cocked her head. “But do you enjoy it?”

I studied the emotion on her face carefully. Somehow she was commanding my attention, yet she was doing nothing outwardly forceful in the slightest. It was subtle, but I could read it—reserved but powerful. I then focused on her wings. They seemed to loosen ever so slightly, which added a tinge of melancholy.

“That doesn’t matter,” I said at last.

She frowned, and suddenly I started to regret my answer.

“I don’t think so,” she said softly.

Silence dragged on for several minutes before Luna finally asked, “How was training with our forces?”

“Illuminating,” I said. “As I said, you ponies are a lot stronger than you look. With his armor on, Trusty was hard to stop.”

It was somewhat embarrassing to imply my defeat, but framing it in praise for my opponent could win me favor.

“Oh, that pony?” Luna said, not quite knowing what to think.

“He is an interesting one,” Celestia agreed. “Earth ponies do have more natural strength than outsiders expect, though. In fact, just last week, Heavy Weight, the Equestrian Wrestling Expo champion, defeated a four-hundred pound minotaur in a no-holds bar throwdown—or so I’ve heard.” She cleared her throat. “So, Aron, did anything confound you today. I’ve gained the perspective that our world may seem… silly to outsiders.”

I briefly paused to assess the risk, but decided to go forward after formulating a diplomatic way of asking: “Actually, I’ve been wondering about that stallion, Trusty Stead. He seems rather unusual for a soldier—a bit … “

Luna nodded solemnly. “Undisciplined? Unconfident? Maybe even weak?”

“Well….” I stammered.

“”No, I don’t blame you for your observation; on the contrary, it’s refreshing to have an outside perspective. Part of it, is peacetime. This has been a blessing and a curse, as I sometimes question our ability to react to outside threats—we got lucky the last time. Trusty, though, is a bit more high-maintenance than most.”

“But why did you choose him to watch me then? Wouldn’t that big, silver-haired stallion be a better pick? You knew I was a soldier, didn’t you think I could be dangerous?”

She smiled warmly, and she patiently explained as if lecturing, “Here in Equestria, our belief system and laws originate from six principles known as the elements of harmony. One of them is loyalty. Our understanding of what loyalty means has grown as our civilization has evolved. One basic property we’ve observed is that loyalty is reciprocal—you have to give it to get it. I put my trust in Trusty and his special talent. It’s something of a risk, yes, but by believing in him, he’s more likely to grow to be an admirable guardspony in time.“

“I think I understand...” I said.

“It is a decision my sister and I made together. Although, in truth, the pony he was supposed to cover for, Scenic Route, had already overcome her cold. I decided not to tell him such, for it was too good of an opportunity to pass up—did I use that modernism correctly?”

Celestia nodded and Luna continued: “You could argue whether my slight dishonesty by omission is compensated by adherence to loyalty, but that’s a question for the theorists.”

I then found myself in a stalled conversation with two very powerful ponies, unsure of what to do. Fortunately, I was saved by the arriving food. One thing I had conveniently learned from dining with Trusty is that ponies were especially careful not to talk with their mouths full, so the burden of alleviating the silence was no longer on me.

Lunch consisted of much of what I had already had so far at the castle. It was good as always, if not varying much from previous meals. Still, it was more variety than I had at home, so I couldn’t complain.

“It’s certainly nice to dine in a quieter wing of the castle on occasion.”

Luna leaned in towards her sister. “And to think, you had forgotten about that secret passage for a thousand years.”

“I doubt I’ll be allowed to forget any time soon,” Celestia said, shrugging. “It’s a shame Twilight couldn’t join us, but knowing her, she’s probably frantically making sure everything’s perfect. Sometimes I think she forgets she’s not my student anymore.”

“Actually, she’s taking those three fillies to the museum,” I said.

“Oh?” Celestia said, genuinely surprised. “Good for her. I’m sure whatever she and the professor have to show is great, so it’s a relief to know she’s doing more than fret over making it perfect. As I said before, it pertains to you, so you’re welcome to join us. Admittedly, Twilight can get overly technical at times, so I can understand if you’d rather get the executive summary afterwards.

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

“Well, I have some paperwork to get back to, but if you need something, never hesitate to send word to me or my sister.”

“Tia, you don’t need to strain yourself. I can handle it, so please get some rest.”

“I’m not that fragile, Luna. Let me have this much.” She looked to me, and I couldn’t help but gaze into her serene, nurturing eyes. She smiled and turned around, and I snapped out of it.

“Wait,” I said.

She turned.

“Thank you. You saved my life. I know it’s more complicated than that, but the fact still remains. So thanks.”

“You—you’re welcome,” she said, her countenance turning suddenly somber.

Her sister approached her and stroked her withers with a large, midnight blue wing. “I have duties to return to as well, Aron, but our door is always open to you.”

“I understand.”

They left together, and I was left alone. A part of me wanted them to come back, yet I couldn’t understand why, since we were stretched thin for conversation. Still, as I pondered this point on my way back, it remained every bit as elusive.

Author's Note

I debated it for a while, but I ultimately decided to split this chapter. If it works, let me hear your praise in the comments section. If not, it was Boldish42's idea.

Chapter 16

My remaining time at Twilight’s family home was just as pleasant as the first night. After we finished the game, which Spike won, we retired to bed. Twilight had her old room prepared for us, and I slept in a sleeping bag next to Spike’s basket. I briefly pondered why he would be okay sleeping like a pet while I, not much bigger than he was, got something closer to a proper bed. But I had learned fairly quickly not to question this world’s logic too much and I happily applied that here.

The next two days were filled with more family togetherness. At times, I felt like a stranger and wanted to pull away, but they were too welcoming to allow the feeling to persist for long. Twilight’s parents were clearly enjoying having me as a grandfoal surrogate, frequently offering me candy and sweets. I declined on principle, and when I explained my aversion to sugar they pointed out that I hadn’t objected to hot cocoa. I felt tricked when this was revealed to me, but I had at least found something with sugar that I didn’t hate. I thought Celestia would no doubt be pleased with this.

On the second day, Spike showed me his comic book collection. At first I only feigned interest, but hearing him rave about fictional characters did make me curious about the nature of these stories. To his great approval, I read the first issue of The Power Ponies. All the while, he read over my shoulder and make frequent comments about obscure hidden details and what would be revealed in future issues. I seemed to understand that the six heroines served as paragons of virtue in what was essentially a parable on morality. Spike had laughed when I needed clarification on what exactly was and wasn’t fiction. Superpowered ponies weren’t real, but vigilantes running around in garish costumes were. Spike had then shown me a collection of newspaper clippings detailing Rising Sun’s continued fight against crime. My biggest surprise at this was that there was so much to fight against. Spike said that Rising Sun had first appeared around the same time as her principal nemesis, Maniacal Laughter. I found this suspicious, but he didn’t, so I just let it drop.

I was much more amenable to spending time with Shining Armor. Although he hadn’t experienced war for himself, he still had the discipline and character of a proper soldier. I listened attentively as he told me what efforts he was going through to recruit and train a new guards corps from scratch. I recognized some of the core principals as being identical to those taught to us in the Junior Royal Guard. He found my enthusiasm for this club adorable, and I had to politely remind him that I was not a foal. Still, he had some very amusing anecdotes. As he explained, despite the peace of Equestria, guardsponies can get called in for some strange incidents. My favorite was the tale of how his squadron had cornered the culprit of the “Pies Stolen from Windowsills” case, only to to discover that the perpetrator was a gang of cats.

Finally, on the third day, a couple of hours after Cadance and Shining’s departure, it was time for us to leave, and we bid Night Light and Twilight Velvet goodbye. There was a certain sadness on their faces as Twilight promised to visit again soon, as clearly they were expecting her to be too busy to keep that promise. However, there was also unmistakable pride sprinkled into their features. We had considered staying another night, but Twilight wanted to continue some research at the castle, and it was actually closer to Canterlot First for my purposes. On the way back, I voiced to Twilight a weighty question that I had meant to ask for a while.

“Twilight?” I asked, stopping my trot and feeling the cool cobblestone against my hooves.

“Yes, Aron?”

“Celestia mentioned that you weren’t always an alicorn. I believe she called it ascension?”

Twilight stopped and looked back. As she turned her head, a sheepish smile formed.

“I can understand why the topic would interest you,” she began. “It’s something I have thought about a lot, but I haven’t thought of any way to make it work for your situation.”

“How did it work for you then?” I asked, impatient. “Given your parents, I assume you were a unicorn before you became an alicorn princess, so how? Wouldn’t your magical signature be a unicorn?”

“I confess I can’t tell you everything, Aron. Some of it is because I don’t understand, while other details are state secrets.”

I was about to lash out at her for keeping more secrets from me, but she picked up on this and gently waved a hoof to calm me.

“What I can tell you is that two factors converged to make my ascension possible. The first is my completion of a powerful unfinished spell by Star Swirl the Bearded. It was highly complex magic dealing with the very force of harmony itself. The second was the strength of my bond with my friends.”

“Really, friendship?” I asked sarcastically.

Twilight was unfazed, and she had a scholarly look about her that suggested an incoming lecture.

“Aron, If you’d asked me a few years ago, I would have laughed at such a claim, but now I understand that the magic of friendship is perhaps the most powerful magic in Equestria. It relates closely to harmony, but it has many unique properties that I’m learning more about every day. I can’t believe I haven’t explained to you how important the magic of friendship is!”

“Can it wait?” I asked, drumming my hooves. “At the moment, all I want to know about is ascension.”

Spike chimed in. “Yeah, Twi, I’m with him. It gets old hearing you give the magic of friendship lecture over and over.”

“All right,” Twilight replied, defeated. “From what I’ve surmised the completion of Star Swirl’s spell was a great event of harmonic magic that when coupled with the magic of friendship allowed me to become an alicorn. It was a momentous event in terms of harmonic magic. And because my friends believed in me as a leader, I was able to take more harmonic energy than usual, which formed my harmonic core. As for the change in my magical signature, I theorize that because an alicorn is an embodiment of harmony itself, my signature essentially evolved to a higher state of harmony. However, trying to recreate such an effect, even under controlled conditions, would be far too dangerous.”

I paused, thinking hard until I came up with something plausible that wouldn’t sound stupid to the expert. “Depending on the specifics, it might be a risk I’m willing to take. If your magical signature evolved through a harmonic event, couldn’t we ‘devolve’ mine. so to speak, by instigating a ‘chaotic event?’”

Twilight shook her head deliberately.

“There are two potential problems with that idea. In the case of the first, keep in mind that your magical signature has remained constant, even while you were on your homeworld. If we managed to ‘devolve’ your magical signature there’s no guarantee what it would end up corresponding to. Since we are talking of chaos, it’s highly unlikely you would end up as a sapient creature, much less a human. The second possibility… well, it’s a little farfetched…”

“Well, what is it?”

“It’s just a theory and seems almost like a comical oversimplification, but it’s possible such an event could turn you into a draconequus.”

“Really?” I asked, flummoxed.

Twilight blushed. “It’s a silly idea I know, but it does make sense. Alicorn magic is the opposite of draconequus chaos magic, so if a harmonic event makes a pony into an alicorn, it seems natural to think doing the opposite could render her a draconequus.”

“I’m sure Discord wouldn’t mind having another draconequus to hang around with,” Spike joked.

Twilight shot him a disapproving look.

Still intrigued, I put a hoof to my chin. “Any chance I could remain male this way?”

“I can’t believe you’re considering this, but intuitively I think it would be most likely your magical signature would remain female. Discord’s very existence resists harmony, so I imagine if a second draconequus were to appear she would be female to serve as a counterweight of sorts.”

Her explanation sounded contrived to me, but then an image of a well-groomed Discord appeared in my mind. He was dressed in a tuxedo, holding flowers and puckering his lips.

I cringed then sighed. “Thanks for hearing me out.”

Twilight draped a wing over me and stroked my withers, a gesture I had come to love.

“It’s going to be okay, Aron. Even if we can’t halt the changes, we are going to preserve your memories.”

“I know,” I said weakly.

In silence she led me back to my room in the castle, where I immediately went to bed. I hit the mattress, tired from my busy weekend, yet I struggled to get to sleep.

Early the next morning I heard a knock on my door. Rudely awakened, I muttered, “Come in.” Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I was surprised to see Princess Celestia.

“Good morning, Aron,” she said. “I wanted to check in on you before you head out to school. Is everything going alright?”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” I said. “Twilight told me about ascension, and I was kind of disappointed that there’s no solution there.”

She nodded. “I understand. I had expected as much, but I didn’t want to assume since Twilight is the expert. But otherwise you enjoyed your time at Twilight’s parents’?”

“More or less. Not everything was the most exciting, but I enjoyed the calm and slow pace. They really made me feel like I belonged.”

I frowned, worrying I had said too much, while Celestia beamed.

“That’s great, Aron. You seem to be doing really well lately. For instance, I heard from your teacher that you made great use of teamwork to answer a reading comprehension question.”

“Oh, that? Yeah, I just did what I could to answer, since I hadn’t read any of the book before.”

“Still, I think it’s great,” said Celestia. “By the way, what do you think of the book so far? The fact that Canterlot First is currently teaching that classic novel is one of the reasons I sent you there.”

“I can’t say too much so far, given how little I’ve read, but there is one thing I’m wondering.”

“What’s that?” Celestia asked very patiently.

“Why wasn’t sending errr—Xel Nig back to her home dimension an option. I know you had to recover to send me back, but was that the case with her as well?”

Celestia smiled. “For once there’s a simple answer to your question. For beings we brought here from other worlds, it wasn’t until much later that we figured out how to track the coordinates of their home worlds. We were able to use a spell to teleport them to our location initially because we had sight of them. However, to teleport somepony away from the caster, one needs to know exactly where the destination is. By the time we devised a workaround, we had decided the practice was too risky altogether, and we had stopped using the mirror to avoid temptation.”

“How do you explain me, then?” I asked pointedly.

Celestia sighed. “It was a moment of weakness. I was exhausted after a long day and thought that looking through the mirror would be refreshing. When I saw your plight, I couldn’t resist saving you. It’s one of many reasons why I can’t apologize enough.”

“There’s no need,” I repeated, partially regretting I had asked. Seeing her genuinely remorseful was more than enough. It made her feel more “human” and approachable. At the same time I felt a need to comfort her, but instead I changed the subject.

“Is there more you can tell me about the minotaur? I know I could just read the book, but is there anything especially pertinent to me? How did she adapt? I understand it was a struggle.”

Celestia chuckled.

“Actually, despite what the book says there really wasn’t much conflict at all. At first Priscilla, then Xel Ning, went through some of the adjustment you had to. But once transformed, she almost immediately fell head-over-hooves in love with King Gildeus. After that, she never asked about going back again. I don’t usually tell anypony this because it ruins a great book for them, but that’s the reality of it.” She paused and made a conscious effort to smile down at me. “You’re doing fine, Aron. You’ve been adjusting just as well as she did, if not better.”

I still had my concerns about being brainwashed, but rather than risk repeating myself I kept my immediate worries about the brown stallion to myself. I had come this far by trusting the princesses and figured I would give them the chance to tell me if they had discovered anything new.

Then came an unexpected knock at the door. Celestia turned to me.

“Yes?” I said.

Trusty Stead pushed open the door and went to the princess’s side. He whispered something in her ear.

Celestia nodded rhythmically before suddenly gasping. She reared and flared her wings outward dramatically.

“Rainbow Dash did WHAT!?”

Trusty whispered something else in her ear and she nodded.

“I understand. Aron, we can continue this conversation later. I have something… stupid to attend to.”

The next day at school was fairly typical as such things go. My novelty was starting to wear off, and thankfully the other foals seemed content to leave me to myself. Reading and math were still somewhat uphill, but it was starting to click. It would doubtlessly take time, but I was now sure I could do it and that helped a lot. I continued to enjoy history and civics, which were constantly providing fresh perspectives on the world. Music still sucked, and I dreaded the day I would be called on to sing the lead part. Even the chorus was too much for me at the moment. It still baffled me how the other children could know what the refrain was before it had even been sung once.

Recess that day was dominated by Annuity bragging about her camping trip with her dad. Still I got to hear from other foals as well: Zephyr’s herd had gone vacationing to Cloudsdale; Thaumaturgical’s parents had hosted all of his Dad’s gift children at a family reunion dinner; while Pestle Mix, to the dismay of her dad, had sequestered herself in the potion shop to perfect her craft.

“What did you do, River?” Zap had asked me.

“Oh, I’m too far away from home to go back and visit my dad,” I said, “but Princess Twilight invited me to stay with her family.” The moment it rolled off my tongue I started to regret it. Was I bragging too much? Would it be normal for a princess to invite an exchange student into her home?

“What!?” Annuity said, disgusted.

The whole playground seemed to then converge on me as they inquired about my experience from every angle. I answered the best I could, but I felt silly for getting so much attention for it. I tried to assure them that it was a mostly mundane experience, but every detail seemed to entice them all the more. The clamoring doubled when they learned Princess Cadance had shown up as well. Annuity scowled at me through the crowd, clearly upset over being upstaged.

The next, day she seemed to take special notice of me. During gym class we were to run laps around the playground. When I learned of this, I was revved up and ready to go and I gladly took off towards the front of the pack. Granite and Daybreak seemed to be faster than me, but not by much. I took in each breath, invigorated. I was clearly in my element.

Yet, after only two laps, I started panting and falling behind. As ponies passed me, I noticed a pattern: the earth ponies were the first to pass me, then the pegasi, followed by the unicorns. To my shame, and despite my best efforts at pacing myself, I was only able to stay in front of Squirt, Iron Jill and Beakington III.

As I exhaled, my visible breath trailed behind me like a wispy scarf curled around my neck. As it was I struggled to stay ahead of even it. Occasionally, I looked back, and saw the others were similarly exhausted. Jill was awkwardly clasping her dress as she ran, which made me wonder why she had dressed like that knowing there was gym. Annuity lapped us twice throughout the exercise and shot us a smirk each time. When I finally crossed the finish line, it took all of my willpower not to collapse in relief. As each of us arrived, Ms. Fizzle made a note on a chart she was holding. We were then told to move around in circles to slowly ramp down our heart rates. During this time Annuity accosted us.

“Quite a poor performance, wouldn’t you say, new foal?”

I nodded meekly. Considering a lot of my conditioning translated to this new body, it made no sense why my endurance had taken such a hit.

“You barely managed to stay ahead of a blank flank and the rest of the lagger gang.”

At this address, Squirt rolled his eyes. “Can’t help it. My cutie mark still hasn’t found me yet. Maybe I’ll do better when I get it; maybe I won’t. Who cares, anyway?”

“As... I’ve told you... a million times... we griffins... aren’t... built for running,” Beakington sputtered through gasps of air.

“Neither.. Is Iron… Jill…” Jill said.

“There you have it,” Annuity said. “They have their excuses, so what’s yours?”

Wow she’s really trying her best to pour salt in the wound, I thought.

Patiently, I said, “That’s none of your concern. Let my performance stand for what it was, but how I will think about it or strive to improve is for me to decide. Besides, you only finished a few places ahead of us, so what gives you the right to lecture us on how we could have done better?”

She sneered. “As everypony knows, earth ponies and pegasi have better endurance than unicorn ponies, which makes it all the more embarrassing that you finished nearly last.”

So that explains it, I thought. In reality, I was a unicorn without a cutie mark just like Squirt, but I couldn’t let her know that. Still, her posturing irked me.

“So you’re telling me to do better when you yourself finished behind most of the other unicorns in the class?”

She cocked her head as if ready to make a nasty remark, but her drooping ears and tail betrayed that she was stumped.

Smelling blood, I attacked: “I’ll ask you what you asked me: what’s your excuse?”

“I—I’m not the one who came in near last…” she stammered.

Ms. Fizzle then clapped her hooves together. “Okay, everypony. Time to go back in.

“This isn’t over,” Annuity whispered in a sour tone as she trotted ahead to join Bubble and Zap.

Beakington and Jill smiled in thanks, while Squirt just lazily nodded his approval. I waved off their silent gratitude. I hadn’t done anything.

After school, I packed up my books into the saddlebag Star had given me and trotted to the door. I was the first outside. And what I beheld was a mythic sight no Rhod had ever before beheld.

“Hooray! It’s snowing!” Zap squeed.

White powder was raining from the sky, blanketing the trees, the field and the schoolhouse’s roof. What struck me was how immaculately pure each falling drop of snow was. The descending snowflakes seemed to be frozen in time, gliding gracefully to the ground. As I admired the drifting constellations dotting the afternoon sky,I felt a peaceful wonder course through me.

“Wow the weather ponies did a great job this year,” somepony remarked.

Weather ponies?

“I think everypony knows what that means!” Thaumaturgical said expectantly.

“SNOW WAR!” half the class cheered.

“Snow War?” I asked aloud, puzzled.

“You’ve never had a snowball fight?” Beakington III asked, walking up beside me. “It’s great fun. You just build forts of snow and toss snowballs at the other team.”

“Can I participate?” I asked, surprised at my own eagerness. Admittedly, I was not looking forward to making Celestia happy by playing with foals, but on the other hand, if they were going to instigate war games, I had to see this for myself.

“Hmph,” Annuity said. “See if anyone will take y—”

“Sure!” Zap cheered, clearly happy that I was finally joining in. “Raise your hoof if you want to play.”

Almost half the class rose their hooves or equivalents, making a dozen players exactly. Jill, Beakington, Squirt, Thaumaturgical, Pestle and I were on one team. The other team consisted of Bubble, Annuity, Granite, Zap, Daybreak, and Gilded Acres.

I followed the lead of the others in constructing our snow barricades. Six inches of snow meant that most of us were chest-deep in it, but this gave us plenty of material to work with. We found a patch of flat ground and started by drawing a line in the snow. Each team then walked back fifteen paces. We carefully pushed snow with our front hooves and packed it into a foot-high wall. On our team, Pestle and Thaumaturgical smoothed out the top after each layer of snow was added. For added flair, the unicorn filly carefully lifted out a couple of cubes from the top of our wall She moved them to its highest section and set them down, creating makeshift turrets. I nodded in approval and attended to smoothing down the wall to look as orderly as possible.

“How do you play?” I asked Thaumaturgical while I worked.

“Truly? You don’t know?” the gray colt replied in response.

Squirt chimed in. “There’s no much to it. Just throw snowballs at the other team.”

“Snowballs?”

“Like this,” Thaumaturgical said, demonstrating rolling snow into a ball and throwing it. “I take it it doesn’t snow much where you’re from?”

“N—no,” I responded through hesitation as I realized that I could be later contradicted. “It doesn’t snow in Neighbraska.”

Please be true. Please be true!

Fortunately, the collector of miscellaneous trivia didn’t find my comment strange and the game soon started.

We crouched behind the fortress as Daybreak counted down from three. As he shouted “go!” all twelve of us sprung up, ready to face the other team. Realizing I was unarmed, I quickly ducked as a snowball hurtled above my head. Scooping up two hooffuls of snow, I combined them, and lovingly shaped the two parts into a sphere. Pleased with my feat of pony dexterity, I stood up ready to throw, only to have it knocked out of my hoof by a snowball to the face. Scowling as snow dropped off my muzzle, I caught a glimpse of Bubble Bauble laughing before she quickly had to take cover again.

Having lost face, I looked across our lines and noticed that Thaumaturgical and Pestle were creating theirs by magic. As I couldn’t imitate them, I looked to others for clues. Although Beakington’s front claws were quite unlike a hoof, he still formed snowballs in largely the same way as I had, albeit at three times the speed. As a lobbed snowball hit the back of my neck and sent a shiver through me, I resolved to be more active. I shook off the snow and started pacing along the rear of our fortress, occasionally peering through one of the openings Pestle had made. Seeing no weaknesses in their lines, I tried to discern a pattern in their attacks. However, the five of them gave no indication of their next move.

Wait... five?

I heard a whizzing sound as a snowball hit me in the eye from above. Peering through the other eye, I saw a yellow and black pegasus grinning down at me.

“What’s wrong, River?” Zap said as she dodged a pair of snowballs. “Aren’t you gonna chuck some at us?”

“She’s right,” Iron Jill said. “Don’t just stand there! Fight!” Jill was then hit in the chest by a barrage of snowballs. Her size made the wall nearly useless to her. In response, she growled, grabbed most of the wall in front of her and chucked it at the enemy fortification. Some snow merely piled onto the opposite wall, but a sizable gap also appeared, revealing an undefended Gilded Acres. The gold-maned, lime filly scurried to get out of the way as all our fire temporarily converged on her.

I looked to Squirt who also took a snowball to the face. He smiled, shook off the snow and threw a couple of snowballs back.

Am I taking this too seriously? I wondered.

As if hearing me, Thaumaturgical explained, “Fun is the name of the game. We don’t keep score here.”

Sidestepping a snowball thrown by Annuity, I scooped up some more snow. I took careful aim at the pegasus flying alluringly above us and threw it. I hit her left wing, causing her to plummet downward at an angle towards that wing before recovering.

“Now you’re getting it!” Zap cheered.

Suddenly all six of our opponents behind the wall all rose their heads above the wall, nodding their heads rhythmically. Puzzled, I looked to my comrades to press the attack before noticing they were doing the same. Suddenly, I began to hear the approaching of bells.

Don’t tell me…

Zephyr Zap sang, hovering, “Snow Day, fun day, everypony play day. Falling snowflakes—chilly win—hey!”

I smiled in triumph. I had dug deep to sculpt and toss that perfect snowball. Having taken the initiative, I hastily formed and lobbed three more at her before the song sequence would have a chance to recover. Everyone’s eyes were on me and I used the further moment of disbelief to throw a snowball at the exposed Annuity, who dropped to the ground to avoid it. I briefly wondered if I had broken a taboo, but the children on our side laughed as if realizing the opportunity for the first time, and soon they followed my lead.

The battle was raging full-force once more. I weaved along our lines, avoiding snowballs as I tried to divine the enemies’ position based on where the snowballs were coming from. As four more snowballs hit Jill, I locked onto a spot behind one of the opponent’s turrets where the last of the four had come from. The second Daybreak popped his head out I was ready with a straight-on snowball. I beamed at my successful strategy as he shook the snow from his mane before firing back.

Beakington III then tried to imitate Zap and took to the air with a pair of snowballs in his clutches, but enemy snowballs soon knocked them out of his front talons, and, embarrassed, he soon had to dive behind the wall again. I briefly debated the relative merits of having a flier on the team. Although Zap and Beakington exposed themselves, surely it must be an asset. I thought if I had wings, I could try to fly over and drop snowballs like bombs.

“If I had wings?” I thought disdainfully as I realized it would be reality fairly soon. I’m in no hurry for that. On the other hand…

A snowball striking my back brought me back to the moment. I happily lobbed a few more snowballs at the enemy lines, paying close attention to dodge when necessary. I made it a point not to get hit for the remainder of the game, but this dream was soon crushed by Granite’s hoof. I then adjusted my expectations to only get hit three more times, but this new goal lasted a mere five minutes.

These ponies have good aim, I thought to myself.

Annuity’s head then appeared over the opposing wall and I was ready with a straight-on shot that connected with a satisfying slushing of snow.

Then again, I’m not so bad myself.

A further trio of snowballs hit Jill courtesy of Annuity, Bubble Bauble and Granite. I lobbed a large snowball to try and scatter the group, but without letting me know if I had connected or not, they reappeared at another angle and tossed another three at Jill. There was no doubt about it now: they were aiming for Jill, the largest target. It was a good strategy for allowing the most throws to connect, but something about it bothered me. This was a game mostly devoid of rules, but it just struck me as unfair. Thinking back on Jill’s earlier feat, she couldn’t be a mere liability. After further thought, an idea struck me.

“Hey, Jill,” I said, “can you grab the wall again and make a big snowball?”

“Iron Jill is sorry about that,” the she-minotaur said, “Iron Jill lost Iron Jill’s temper. Iron Jill won’t destroy the wall again. No need to rub it in.”

“No. Actually, I want you to do it. I have an idea.”

“Like this?” Iron Jill asked, packing the foot-high wall into a misshapen snowball.

“Perfect,” I said.

I then crept around through the newly made opening. I got hit as I did so, but I didn’t care. Instead I lay down, using the snow blob as cover, and started to crawl as I gradually pushed the mound forward. Excess snow fell from the side at first, but as I rolled it forward with my muzzle, it slowly expanded in girth. When I was close to the enemy wall, I could comfortably stand behind my monster snowball. The colts and fillies behind me had puzzled looks at first, but they realized the possibilities fairly quickly. Squirt ran across the open field to my side and helped me push. Jill, as she was getting hit regardless of what she did, scooped up another handful of wall and dropped it on top of the snow boulder. Beakington flew above and pointed six times. Thaumaturgical and Pestle nodded, wrapped their magical auras around the snow boulder and heaved it over the opposite wall.

The opposing team’s eyes went wide as the monolithic snowball fell straight down on all six of them, burying them under eighteen inches of snow. They practically had to swim up to the surface, faces coated with snow. Annuity, Bubble and Granite had looks of dismay, torn between outrage and humiliation. Zap, meanwhile, giggled.

“Nice one!” She said, gathering a snowball to throw back.

Daybreak followed her lead and pretty soon the dozen of us were hurtling snowballs out in the open, paying little mind to taking cover. A few snowballs were even exchanged within the teams, and pretty soon, the team snow battle became a snowball free-for-all. After getting hit as much as I did, I tried to dig a bunker for myself, but none of the eleven others gave me respite to do so. Finally, I embraced the chaos and started tossing snowballs in every direction, but I made special note not to toss any at Iron Jill.

At several points the game looked like it was winding down, but each time a snowball directed at an unsuspecting victim ignited the frenzy once more. This cycle proceeded for about an hour until everyone was shivering, drenched from melted snow. A silent consensus emerged that the game was over and aside from Zap calling out, “Wasn’t that fun, everypony!” we silently quivered our way home.

When I finally reached Star, I was ready with an apology for keeping her waiting. However, to my surprise, she was wearing the widest smile I had seen on her as she asked, “So, Aron, how was school?”

“Fine,” I squeaked out in a voice that was a bit higher than I would have liked.

“Come on,” she coaxed. “I saw you having a good time out there, despite your prior insistences that you would have nothing to do with playing with the other colts and fillies.”

“I got the idea it would mimic a combat situation, so I thought I’d try it.”

Star looked at me, eyes wide.

“Is something the matter?” I asked.

She slowly rose a hoof and gestured towards me. “Your voice… it sounds a bit off,” she said.

“What do you mean?” Upon saying those words, I heard it for myself. Although I knew perception of one’s voice was by nature unusual, my voice sounded higher than normal.

“Ahem. This is our planet, and we will never surrender it,” I recited to test. This time my voice cracked.

“Try saying something else,” Star prompted.

Complying, I said the first thing that came to mind, “Courtesy, commitment and courage are what everypony in the guard should strive for.”

“Again,” Star ordered.

I again supplied the first thing I could think of: “Snow day, fun day, everypony play day,” I said as dryly as possible.

“Hmm,” Star hummed. “You sound normal now.” Star smiled. “It was probably nothing.”

I let out a deep sigh. “I sure hope so…”

Author's Note

With the gdocs importer having issues, let me know if I missed any italics. Fortunately, Aron didn't think too much in this chapter.

With this, my goal was to have a chapter to let the characters breathe. Hopefully it doesn't come off as filler.

I also wanted to express my reservations in writing Annuity. I'm struggling to give her mean streak a unique tang, and odds are she's coming off as generic, or a Diamond Tiara clone at best. So I suppose I'm apologizing for that.

Chapter 41

I wore a sour countenance as I flailed in a current of frustration. I had thought I had finally figured it out after a strong session previously, but now I felt myself well on my way to taking a step back. I squinted as I continued my vain attempt to lift that stupid training sphere, while I pondered what I might be doing wrong.

“That’s good for now,” Teaching Moment mercifully acknowledged.

I let out a long sigh as my mind slowly started to recover. The stallion had an obnoxious habit of maintaining a poker face at all times. It was helpful in the sense that it kept me humble in the face of my successes, but him slithering by any acknowledgment of my struggles tended to irk me.

“You’re getting there,” he repeated like a mantra.

“Sure…” I muttered, making a beeline for the imposing wooden doors that promised freedom. We had commandeered a rather spacious luxury suite, usually reserved for foreign dignitaries, for my magic lessons. As a preemptive measure, everything I could accidentally break had been put into storage.

“Before you go, can you hand me that decorative pillow? It must’ve been knocked off the bed due to the mana turbulence.”

So that’s another way of saying my magic is still volatile. I wish he would just say it.

“Okay,” I said, sizing up the purple and gold cushion and tossing it towards Teaching Moment in rhythm.

“Have a good night,” I said weakly while pushing the door open. Only to stop suddenly. “Wait—”

Relief and validation began to brew from within me. “Did I…”

Teaching shot me a victorious smile. “You did it. Using levitation subconsciously is the truest marker of success!”

I shook my head instinctively. “That was just a fluke! I couldn’t do it when I tried, so tricks aside, I’m still a beginner, right?”

My teacher patted my head.

“You can wait for our next session, or you can just see for yourself!”

Whatever thought I had started to have was interrupted by my subsequent realization. “You mean, I can do it on my own? Outside?”
He simply smiled. “It’s what we’ve been working on all along. By embracing an efficient form of magic from basic principles, you’ve significantly lessened the risks associated with it rebounding on you,” he explained in a clinical fashion.

“Oh, that’s nice…”

Internally I was torn between thanking him and accusing him of leading me on. In any event, his approach had worked.

I felt a mischievous impulse. I wanted nothing more to fling all sorts of things around the room, but doing so would easily have been the most childish thing I had done all day. In the middle of my deliberation, my teacher had wished me a good night and excused himself to go pick up a cake.

After a bit of dawdling, I followed him out the door and ran straight into a little filly that I was pretty sure was littler than me last time we had met.

“Oh hey, Cake. Didn’t expect to bump into you here.”

Dang Equestria making me pun—you know what, that lame one is all on me…

“Oh, good, you were here, River. What were you up to in there?”

For some reason, my first instinct was to lie.

“Magic lessons. There’s more room in there. Uh… I’m not very good; it’s kinda embarrassing. So, you were looking for me, right?”

She nodded. “I wanted to thank you for letting me share your green activity for camp.”

“That was nothing,” I quickly dismissed. “Not sure you’re gonna like ‘Variety Sports,’ but that’s fine.”

She smiled softly. “No, it’s more than that. This whole time I was worried if ponies would like me. So, I—I couldn’t ask for things. Only friends can ask for favors is what I thought.”

Upon reaching this pause, I hastily scoured my experience from both lives, but I came no closer to figuring out what I was supposed to say. Fortunately, I didn’t have to figure it out.

“But what I didn’t understand is asking others for favors—asking for help, or… at least asking them to pay attention to you is one of the best ways to make friends. Everypony starts as acquaintances—except for Princess Twilight, I mean, but she’s the Princess of Friendship!”

“I’m glad I could help you,” I said diplomatically while still allowing my positive sentiment to shine through. “I’m not sure I’d be a good best friend for you. Or anything like that.”

Cake giggled. “No problem! I need to start collecting some acquaintances anyway; I can work on friends later. Still, I want you to have this.”

Cake hoofed me a tiny black earring. Somehow it was warm to the touch, and I could almost feel its subtle imperfections in a somewhat familiar manner. I wondered if it was another earth pony thing.

“That’s very nice of you, Cake. But my ears aren’t pierced—oh, and doing so is scary to me.”

My excuses didn’t disturb her warm demeanor at all. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s a snap-on,” she explained, perhaps not realizing I was trying to refuse it. “I have the one for the left ear, so we can match!”

“Thank you,” I said simply, carefully snapping it on to appease her.

She admired the combination of the earring and my pink mane briefly. For some reason, a blush slowly emerged on her countenance.

“What is it?” I asked, trying to squelch any hint of impatience in my voice.

“Oh, I— I don’t want to be weird or anything. Cause, umm…”

“Come again?”

“Well, you—you said you… like fillies…”

I sighed and shook my head. “You don’t need to worry about that, Cake. I’m not looking for a fillyfriend. Besides, I get the sense that you wouldn’t like being pursued anyway.”

She blushed even more. “Thanks…”

“Have a nice night, Cake,” I said decisively. “Thanks for the earring.”

While this wing of the fifth floor was fairly sparse, there was really nothing to see going counterclockwise—just some, mostly vacant, rooms. I quietly pondered this as my eyes scanned the repetitive sailboat carpet as if trying to discern a way to defeat the potential awkwardness. Fortunately, Cake Slice was even more in tune than I was to such things, and we thus averted the classic “saying goodbye and walking in the same direction” silliness when she galloped ahead.

As my hooves led me back through the castle to my own room, I let my mind wander. I had tried to resist, but it was simply apt to do that lately. I knew it was likely another de-aging symptom, but I somehow reasoned that abetting it would help buy off further regression.

On that note, homework had been getting harder for me. Granted, I still had another day to finish my math homework, but not doing it the day it was assigned made me feel... uncomfortable. I physically could focus; it was just that distractions that I could have quashed yesterday tended to bog me down.

I collided with what felt like a brick wall—albeit a warm, fuzzy one. With a cute little gasp, I bounced harmlessly off of Celestia’s foreleg like a filly-sized chew toy. Why was she here? Besides this being her castle, of course. We didn’t have an appointment, did we?

“Why are you here so late. I’m kinda ti—oh, right. I did agree to that, didn’t I?”

She put on an apologetic frown for my benefit. “It won’t take too long—I promise.”

Without further objection, we were on our way. As I scurried behind Celestia’s massive strides, I pondered the absurdity of scale in this world. I had to take around a half dozen steps for every step she took. Following that—I appreciated that while there were some nice things in the vicinity, my home floor took a relatively modest approach to furnishings. I liked it that way.

“So how have you been doing?” Celestia asked, balancing her sincerity while trying not pry.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I really don’t know. I thought I was doing well. My first day of resolving not to fight everything slightly inconvenient had gone well, so I was optimistic. But it didn’t change the fact that I still had to sing in music class. It didn’t magically make all the attention less grating. And it turns out that me having fun the other day with Gilded’s request didn’t make everything peachy with my stupid little mock royal court. The Citrus twins want to kick-start the Anti-Annuity Alliance again. A whole bunch of posers have joined that as of late.”

“So you had to sing again today?” Celestia asked calmly, picking out the least aggravating thing I had listed.

“Yeah, I think Ms. Fizzle is having me make up for all the free passes she gave me. Nopony really laughed this time, but honestly, that made it worse! That silence was devastating…”

Celestia contemplated several approaches, judging by her changing expression, which ultimately ended with an uncharacteristic show of bashfulness. “Hmm… I appear to be lacking an effective cliche for this particular moment.”

With a happy click-clack of my front hooves, I looked up at her and grinned. “So you do realize it!”

She gently shook her head. “Ruling as long as I have, it’s not just that I’ve heard everything; I have even heard myself say virtually everything within reason. Somehow hearing it in your own voice makes it seem even more tedious.”

The elder princess entertained a subtle sorrow behind those huge eyes. I couldn’t fault her for seeking a distraction.

“Oh, did Cake Slice give you that? The earring?” she asked.

“Indeed. A shame I have nary a thing to match it with,” I said in my best (still terrible) Rarity impression.

She didn’t take any pity on me.

“So how did you know?” I asked.

“I sent her your way, actually,” Celestia admitted, cutting right to the point. “Thank you for sharing your activity choice with her. She and I had been working on asking for favors.”

I took a little hop down from the bottom step. Remembering what one harsh experience had taught me, I lifted all four hooves in turn, to avoid tripping over my own tail. “That sounds pretty easy,” I remarked, a bit tactlessly.

“That deserves an even more cliche lecture about everypony learning at their own pace, but for your sake, I’ll refrain.”

Thank Celestia.

"I have had a fair share of students over the years, but still, it’s not even been easy on my end. I've never taken on so many at once. And I also had forgotten that Twilight was an exception with her single-minded dedication. After all, not just anypony would take detailed notes and review them before every meeting.”

“She was a quick study, then?”

Celestia smiled. “Actually, there were plenty of two steps forward and one step back to our ongoing dialogue. And sometimes two steps back. A pony such as she has a tendency to outsmart herself. Oh look: we’re here.”

As if announcing it suddenly turned all five senses on at once, I suddenly became cognizant of that unmistakable smell of dust and yellow-paged tomes.

“The library?”

“Yes, follow me. It’s the reading room at the back,” she explained softly, motioning me forward.

We arrived at a somewhat conspicuous blank wall. Celestia had, at some point, retrieved an old, rather unassuming key. There was no lock; instead, she waved it and the wall slowly slid open to accommodate us.

I looked around during the shifting of wood, and aside from the single dedicated librarian, there were still a few ponies lingering. The pyramid structure of the library threw me off at times, but it was an architectural marvel. It was easy to notice the variety of beautiful woods, but nearly impossible to tell where one started and another ended.

“River, are you ready?”

“Oh, sorry,” I said sheepishly. “So what’s with the secrecy?

Celestia gestured me in with her horn. “You will be illuminated momentarily.”

In stark contrast to the beautiful library surrounding it, this forbidden room was positively drab. It reminded me of a bunker.

“Nopony actually sees it, after all,” Celestia explained, reading my mind.

Old books. Dusty devices of unknown origin. And… that was about it.

"You wanted to show me this, why?” I griped.

Celestia posed, as if ready to say something cool.

The moment faded.

“Well… the contents of this room are yours to use, to some extent.”

I shrugged, a bit confused. “Yeah, you mentioned that. Alicorn stuff.”

“Correct. These books contain ancient alicorn lore. Our nature— what is known anyway. The origin of my sister and I are shrouded in mystery. These books of alicorn lore are the closest link we have to the lost knowledge of our ancestors.”

Boooring...

“So, I take it you keep secrets of the kingdom here, for your eyes only?”

“To the contrary!” Celestia declared. “Keeping official records here would run contrary to the very principles of our governance. We are imperfect rulers, and our ponies have the right to transparency in official records as much as possible. It’s traditionally difficult for many, but those who would criticize us are essential to the process.”

It made sense. But I was still confused by something: “So why in the library? If this stuff is so secret—not that I understand why—why have it in a public space?”

Celestia stared through a wall while formulating her answer. “It’s hidden in plain sight, I suppose, but the real reason is that we built the library around this room. Its geometry of the room uses runic principles to contain the room’s powerful magics.”

“Stop teasing me. Show me the dangerous stuff al~re~a~dy.” Unlike before, I was feigning my impatience, and my exaggerated childishness earned a brief chuckle.

“Magical items have a long history in Equestria. They are usually crafted by a great—if not *The* greatest— mage of a magical discipline.“

“I take it there are some fairly capable artifacts of destruction here...”

The alicorn shook her head. “Some—but there are almost as many reasons for locking such items as there are items themselves. Not just destruction.” She gestured towards a winged cat statue. “Take the Flying Puma for instance. It allows one’s body to briefly experience absolute mastery in flight.”

“What’s wrong with that?” I asked, sounding somewhat naive.

“More times than not, a pony will start to struggle in a vain attempt to recapture that transcendent feeling of total mastery. They’ll second guess themselves and usually become a worse flyer as a result. There are uses, however. Most notably it can help those with disabilities regain function.”

She pointed to another one that looked like a stone trumpet. “And that one, to put it bluntly, simply blows stuff up.”

I felt I was being strung along, set up for some joke by either the world or Celestia, so I didn’t voice my confusion. “Go on,” I tried, hoping to play it cool.

“As I was mentioning before, there are some “bonus” perks to being an alicorn. I shall reveal some of them to you now.”

“I was wondering when this whole thing would start to pay dividends,” I snarked. ”So far, wings I don’t know how to use have not compensated for the relentless pulling of my attention in every direction.

A dyed wool satchel glided in front of Celestia. “First of all—the most recent addition—your own rewards card for Donut Joe’s! Buy six donuts, get one free!”

“That… seems rather… well. Why is that special?”

She flashed me a goofy, exaggerated smile. “Other ponies only get the bonus donut after buying a dozen!”

I couldn’t even hazard a guess at what my mixed expression of bewilderment and impatience must have looked like.

“And starting next month, you’ll get your first free issue of The Magical Scientist. They’ll probably give you the version for foals, but you’re right there with your skill level.”

“I can make things float now,” I countered.

“Good job. Maybe now, you’ll be at the level where you can learn some things from it,” she said, rather coy.

“No congratulations?”

“Were you fishing for them?”

“Well no, I’m just surprised you’re not positively reinforcing on me like you normally do.”

Celestia took a deep breath and that unique, serene aura returned. “It is an accomplishment. Being tuned into the magical forces that bind us all is a paradigm shift. It reminds me of giving a pony that had experienced the world only as a blur, glasses for the first time.”

Celestia must have sensed I was ready to move on, as she extracted another small card from the bag.

“Oh, great, another punch card,” I said with somewhat venomous sarcasm. “What’s this one for, shine three hooves get one free?”

“Even better.” She levitated it closer to my face. “It’s your membership card for WQ Holder.”

“WQ what?”

“Holder. It’s a club in dragon country, exclusively for immortals and the long-lived.”

I shrugged. “Okay, that’s not bad. Maybe build some camaraderie.” A mischievous grin overcame me. “Oh, hey, I guess that means I don’t have to wait until I’m older to sample the full beverage menu. Do alicorns have a higher tolerance?”

Predictably, she yanked it out of my hooves. “For when you’re older.”

I snorted. “So when are you going to get to the point?” I begged. “Or is this whole charade just for a cheap laugh?”

“Twilight and Cadance found it funny,” she sheepishly admitted.

I just sighed.

After a quiet moment, she swept her forelegs outward to encapsulate the entire room. “It really is symbolic. This unimpressive room is the reality of existing as an alicorn. From the outside, there is a thick cloud of mystique; but we’re in the position to see through to the truth. It’s also a reminder that we’re not entitled to much of anything by virtue of what we are on the outside. It’s what we do, as a function of who we are, that’s the real treasure—the one we share with the world.”

“You could have just told me that,” I muttered, somewhat nonplussed by the extended metaphor.

“There’s also a cot you’re welcome to use on the second floor when you just want to disconnect from the world for a bit.”

I yawned, stretching for a bit. “I’m going to bed. In my own room.”

“You’re not curious about what else is in the bag?”

“Oh, are there some twenty three-sided dice? A prismatic mothball of friendship?”

“How did you know?” she said, with overbearing seriousness.

I groaned. Feeling that wasn’t enough, I looked around for a prop and spotted an intricately crafted metal chest. Using my surprising amount of experience, I hopped up onto it and eyed the princess from my new vantage point. I had a quip prepared, but for a second I was disoriented by a high-pitched resonance engulfing my right ear.

“Alice—”

“So what’s in the chest? A dried out mushroom? A million bits? Perhaps an ancient demon soul?”

Somehow. that sounded a lot better in my head.

“Alice, your ear…”

The humming didn’t stop so I swiped at the closer ear. A subtle pressure lifted; then I realized. The earring had come loose!

“Oh no!”

Reacting quickly I dove off the chest, extending outward to catch the earring. Time slowed as the jewelry plummeted before me as I reached desperately and… made the catch!

I landed flat on the floor, but I was so small only a small puff of dust marked my impact.

The earring felt oddly warm to the touch. Curious, I turned it over in my hooves. “And it’s shimmering…”

A spark of panic coursed through me as I looked back at my flank. “Oh, good—I didn’t get an earring cutie mark.”

“Alice, could this be-?”

As if responding to the elder alicorn’s words, the tiny earring started to warp before me. Once the light had fully engulfed the trinket, It inflated to the size of an apple as it suddenly became cold. It then stretched like clay, giving shape to a slender body with ridges. Just as quickly as it had begun, the glowing subsided, and I was now holding a toy-sized iron key.

My natural reaction was to shrug off the weirdness. “Don’t tell me this is the key to Cake Slice’s diary—she must have given me the wrong one.”

Celestia seemed to be trying to temper a sudden jump of excitement but was failing. “Alice! That’s one of the Mediator Keys!”

I looked down at the unremarkable brass key. “One of the what?”

“You’re holding one of the keys to that.” She pointed at the chest I had previously tried to use as a stage.

I stole a glance at the key and the chest and then looked back at her. “How can you be sure of that?” I asked. The moment I did so, a couple of reasons why this was ridiculous came to me at once and made me regret not being more incisive and critical. But suddenly I became attuned to the magical connection between what I was holding and the chest—it was as if the chest were levitating the key via the resonance method. “Nevermind. I see it… sorry.”

Celestia appeared to study the ceiling as she formulated her explanation. “The Mediator’s Chest is one of a series of lockboxes from an ancient tale. A legendary mage hailing from the western desert—one whose true identity has been lost to history—supposedly was called before a long-forgotten king solely for his entertainment. The king’s daughter, the seer known as Taste of Rose knew immediately that this was the mysterious figure she had long seen coming...”

“Booooring,” I groaned. “Pony history is confusing enough, without everything being long forgotten. Come to think of it, that seems to happen a lot...”

“The era of pony city-states was erratic, punctuated by violence,” Celestia explained patiently. The ancient Lynx empire meanwhile waxed and waned in power and in temperament. Depending on the combination of the two, the ponies could prove soft targets in the path of their expansion.”

“I take that back: that actually sounds pretty interesting. Why don’t they teach that in school?”

“Honestly, it’s pretty repetitive. Felinus II sacked seven cities; Pawl III annexed Eastern Griffonia; Felinus III conquered the yaks—you get the idea. It’s about the only thing the Lynx bothered to record. Anyway, the chest.”

“Right.” I sighed.

“The Pony with No Name created these chests together with Rose. Supposedly, the esoteric spells contained within were designed for individuals far into the future.”

I tapped on the floor and I readied a counter. I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be fun if she were right. “The key thing might be true. But how do you know there really isn’t just a shriveled mushroom in that chest?”

Celestia smiled. “That’s because Twilight unlocked one of its counterparts—The Chest of Harmony.”

I was deliberately silent.

“The spell within crystalized—somewhat literally—into Twilight’s castle. We’re still learning more and more about it as Twilight and her friends embark on quests given by the magical map.”

“I don’t need a castle,” I said quickly.

Celestia experienced a subtle moment of meekness. “I—I wasn’t going there… at least not yet. And no, I don’t think you’ll be getting your own castle.”

“How do we open it? Because judging by all those locks, somepony really believed in redundancy.”

Celestia cleared her throat. “Rather than explain the finer points, I’ll simply tell you what we’ve seen before: Twilight’s friends each found one of the keys. The similarity lies in the fact that the keys materialized from gifts received from others—some they gained assisting with challenges associated with their respective Elements of Harmony.”

I looked over the chest again. It still seemed to me as unimpressive as the rest of the room. I looked it over as I contemplated what may lie within. Clearly, it wasn’t just some trinket. I sighed when that let me arrive at a conclusion. “So who’s in the market for a magical miracle, then? I wonder—I take it you’re not willing to step in for me?”

Celestia looked genuinely remorseful. “I tried, Alice. I tried to keep you away from the calls of fate—of destiny and that sort. It’s just, that chest must have been waiting for you—perhaps even made for you.”

“That’s kinda annoying,” I complained. I really didn’t need to feel any more important, especially now. “So why would I want to open it, then? I’m not being selfish: If the other exchange ponies need help that badly, I’ll help them. But why would I want to open the chest?”

Celestia nodded “So you’ve reached the same conclusion, I see. Twelve locks: twelve exchange ponies. Now, I admittedly have a bias towards seeing what’s in the chest, after staring at it for so long, but I was trying to find an answer to the same question you posed.” Celestia’s sedate smile spoke of mild triumph. “You said it yourself: who would need a magical miracle, I wonder?”

I was mad at first blush. The more I thought about it, however, the more promising it seemed. “So, if Twilight becoming an alicorn broke the rules, then something that can defy Harmony may be exactly what I need. Or is opening the chest what Harmony wants?”

Celestia appeared to study her forehoof as she weighed her words. “I won’t lie: a new Castle of Friendship seems like something Harmony would ‘want’; however, we’re not just dealing with the will of mysterious forces, but real ponies.”

I stomped a hoof. “Why would I trust the makers of the chest any more than Harmony?”

She made eye contact with me. “It is a risk—there’s no backing away from that. But inaction is a risk as well. Alice, we’re making progress on your memories,” she declared, finally saying aloud what this conversation had been about. “Between two or three proposals, we should be able to do something to safeguard your identity and sense of self.”

My ears perked up.

“That’s the good news. We’re a bit concerned about—let’s call it a metaphysical question…”

I tilted my head. “Which is?”

Celestia took a breath. “Basically, even if we save all of your memories, an infant’s brain probably won’t be able to handle everything at once.”

“I’ve heard that one before,” I said, impatiently.

“What’s changed is that we’ve theorized a way to cycle your memories through your dreams. However, it may perturb your brain development. Maybe for the worse.”

I look down at my shaking forelegs. This doesn’t sound good…

Celestia continued unabated: “Unfortunately, the natural recourse has problems as well. As you would have had experiences as a filly with partial memory, your personality might diverge. I know it sounds strange coming from me since I am apt to remind you that some change is natural—but the lack of continuity is… troubling.” She paused momentarily for effect, yanking my focus back to reality. “Or it could be no problem at all. We simply don’t have the experience to predict how this is going to go.” The alicorn started to gesture with her wings and a forehoof but suddenly relaxed. “Well, there is the idea of core memories. It’s a slippery concept. If we can stably combine it with the dream method,well..."

A bundle of conflicting thoughts intertwined. I felt fear, a little anger at not being told some of the new details, some relief, moderate unease. I simply didn’t know how to feel. It took a show of will not to stomp my hooves in desperation. I also had a weird urge to chew on my fetlock. Anything to calm the turbulence.

“What it comes down to,” she explained softly, “is that it’s another lead. I can understand you would naturally mistrust ponies that have been dead for thousands of years. I will also admit one good outcome doesn’t assuage all fears. But I don’t think they would include a dozen locks for a practical joke, or to harm you.” She sighed. “I will leave it up to you. And hopefully, we won’t need it.”

“Any other ideas?” I asked, feigning a calm aura while I collected my thoughts.

“If you had a guardian spirit you may be able to offload your memories onto him or her,” she explained, uncertain. “We’re looking for another way to use the principle of this method. Yet another option is to try and get you to last until your magical signature hits four years or so—shorter earth pony years, mind you.”

I feigned some interest in my surroundings in an attempt to hide my conflicted emotions. Then I pressed down on my back hoof as if squishing an unseen substance into powder. I shook my head twice, coughed at the dust of the room and then went back to direct eye contact. “All right, I’ll search for the keys. It gives me something to do. There’s also a part of me that hates having to rely on you for everything.”

She clapped her hooves softly, realizing halfway through that her reaction might not go over well with me. “I’ll get you my notes, then. The good news is all of them are going to the same camp as you.”

“All eleven, huh?”

I smirked. “Wait a minute: I’m not going to get a key from myself. So the math doesn’t add up!”

“I realized that. In truth, it doesn’t bother me too much. Perhaps number twelve is a mystery pony of sorts—or even a non-pony.”

I considered various candidates. None of them struck me as needing a current friendship problem resolved. Thaumaturgical had had more than one, but those were firmly in the past at this point.

Celestia started walking to the door. “I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“That’s all you have for me?!”

Celestia looked irked for a moment but seemed on the verge of laughing the next moment. “Actually, I was going to have Quick Script make you a copy of my notes.”

I felt like a jerk. “Oh… I’d appreciate that.”

I followed her out, refocusing myself. Well, I got one without doing anything, almost. This can’t be that hard…

With vigor and confidence, I bravely knocked on the door to a room I never had ventured toward voluntarily. Surprising even myself, I was happy when the rust-colored batpony with that contrasting purple mane opened the door. “River!? What brings you here tonight!? Did you come for girl talk or—”

“No.”

New Moon froze momentarily. “Well, that’s okay. We’d need more fillies for that anyway. Haha,” She laughed stiltedly, her smile a bit too wide, “Hey, since you’re here can I ask you a quick question first? I just want to make sure of something…”

“Sure,” I replied, patiently, with mild curiosity.

“Have you been avoiding me?” she asked, quite candidly.

“Huh?”

It wasn’t exactly the most intelligent response, but a few seconds’ worth of hindsight didn’t suggest anything better.

“I mean duh, you aren’t ‘cause you knocked on my door. But, it’s just… I mean, ever since you became a princess, you haven’t been very accessible.”

“I’d say I’m a bit too accessible,” I said, more than a tad bitter. I felt somewhat bad, so I changed the course. “Lots of ponies want my attention. I can’t let everypony have it, or I’d never sleep.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” New Moon conceded.

I noticed an opportunity to take back the initiative.

“Well, you’re in luck!” I said with a soft, practiced confidence. “Princess Celestia has deputized me to help you and the others with your friendship studies.”

“Neat! Am I first!?” New Moon said, bouncing in place.

“Well, yes. Other than Cake Slice, I guess… kinda helped her before Celestia made it official.”

The batfilly looked slightly disappointed. “That’s strange. Cake didn’t mention anything like that.”

“So you are close to her, then. She’s a nice filly,” I said thoughtfully. Although my attempts at conversation were natural, I couldn’t help but feel I was trying to force a personal connection with her.

She rubbed her chin. “Not really more so than with any other pony. But I can count on her whenever I want to do a group friendship practice. It’s really thoughtful of her to always volunteer when I ask her. Though she’s shy about it...”

She probably doesn’t know how to say no. I know firsthand how hard that can be. I must have a weakness for Pink Diamond…

“Well come on in,” she prompted gleefully.

I looked around. Since I had last been in the room, she had added her own personal touch. I could still see the underlying floorplan identical to mine, but the comforter and pillowcases matching her colors made it feel like her own.

Suddenly I became very aware that I wasn’t exactly amazing at talking to fillies. Becoming one should have made that automatic, but somehow I still had better luck with Squirt and Thaumaturgical. As such, I seized the first distraction to ease myself in.

“Oh, is that your family? Wow! You have all three tribes represented. That’s great.”

I cringed. Oh no, did I screw up already? Are batponies a fourth type?

She flapped her wings happily. “Yes, you can see Caramel, Mousse, Minty! They’re my stepmom’s foals. She’s very nice, you know? You’d think that a seamstress would be really strict—or should I say high-strung heehee—but she’s nice. I always thought I wouldn’t name my own foals after food, but it works for them—oh, not that it’s only an earth pony thing—I don’t mean that. What do you think about food names, River?”

I hesitated somewhat. “Oh, I think they’re interesting, but I—”

“Yeah, I’ve heard some wild ones,” New Moon said with a laugh. “Some families have themes going. I like that, but if you have the names planned ahead of time, you can mess up with luminous surprises, you know? Pegasi do that quite a bit too, but unicorns less so. I don’t know. Maybe I just haven’t met enough unicorns. Cake Slice has been interesting because of that. And formerly you, haha. How crazy is that?”

I must have had a dumbfounded look plastered on my face. Celestia’s notes had undersold it. This filly didn’t “specialize in one-on-one conversations.” No, she dominated any dialogue.

“Lua” took a calming moment to smell the grass. It had recently become a familiar scent that neither my vocabulary nor my once-human nose could comprehend.

Okay, I underestimated New Moon. Turns out there’s more to it than getting her with groups. Now, if I want easy, Blue Horizon should be easier for sure. According to Celestia, she just wants friends and doesn’t know how to approach ponies without being antagonistic. All Lua has to do is get her to realize it’s not that hard.

Remembering my other duty I turned to a panting Squirt. “You seem like you’re adapting bit by bit,” I noted.

“Yeah… but… just because I’m not… complaining doesn’t mean I’m used to it. This… still bites.”

I took a seat on a smooth rock next to him. “I’ve always liked exercising so I can’t say, but it can get better. Like I wasn’t too sure about board games at first, but I—” I froze “—I mean mahjong! Yes, mahjong. Other fillies can’t get enough of it, but I’m bad at it. But it does get better. I don’t love it, but I don’t hate playing anymore.”

I laughed awkwardly as I broke eye contact and pretended to be suddenly interested in the pegasi tending to the clouds above us.

“You play board games?” Squirt asked, not buying my deflection at all.

“No no no! Not often!” I insisted, panicked. “There’s nothing wrong with board games, though. Surprisingly enjoyable!”

Squirt rose an eyebrow at me. “You’re weird. And that carries some weight coming from me.”

I sighed. Well, no luck today either. I knew I had been strong-armed into supporting Squirt, but I still felt obligated to help him have something of a good experience.

I looked to my right. Squirt had slipped away at some point, which was something of a relief, seeing as I messed up. Talking with Squirt had reminded me that I now had two distractions during soccer practice. Eager to get back down to only one problem to solve, I approached Blue Horizon with confidence.

“Hey. Let’s settle this—now,” I demanded.

She flinched at the suddenness.

“We’ve been skirmishing for a while now,” I continued. “You are a worthy opponent, but the games are going to start after camp. We need teamwork, you know?”

Blue Horizon challenged me with direct eye contact. “You’re up to something—I know it.”

“You know me: I fight fair.” Please, just roll with it…

“Why would you—” she grinned. “I see how it is: you want to focus on Squirt.”

I got goosebumps, which was usually a portent of a new source of irritation.

“You like Squirt, don’t you?”

“No.” I said, cold-blooded.

It took a formidable amount of control to stifle any surprise. As embarrassing as her suggestion was, overreacting would surely make it stick.

Her grin sharpened. “Well, guess what! I like him too.”

My first thought was that she was lying. My second was laced with bad language.

She slowly waved goodbye, rubbing salt in the wound, perhaps unintentionally.

Oh, good. I needed that in my life.

Author's Note

Even if it wasn't April Fools Day, would anyone believe me at this point if I said I'm newly committed to writing? I've got a whole 238 words of the next one already :derpytongue2:

I do see reason for optimism, though. For so long, I never felt in control of my own life. I would just flock to whatever was most stimulating at worst and what was the path of least resistance at best. Every day I would wake up, convinced that the invincible Gambit Prawn of the future had descended and I would finally have a day with no regrets or guilt, only to inevitably chalk up another failure. I'll get off my soapbox momentarily, but just know it gets better—on the off chance that one of the thirteen of you relates, tasting autonomy for the first time is amazing.

Anyway, if you like the story and want to show your support, consider supporting me on Patr—haha, no. I won't do that.