Tail: A Story of Time and Forgiveness

Chapters

Choice and Memory
Choice and Uncertainty
Choice and Causality—Part I

Choice and Memory

CHOICE AND MEMORY

Once again, the mailponies had delivered the wrong weather report. Today's forecast called for blue skies, but the color overhead was a thick, dark gray that only got thicker and darker towards the horizon. The wind was brisk enough to kick up clouds of dust from the dirt-road, and the smell of rain breezed along with it. Every few seconds, a black cloud rumbled in the distance.

I'd better wrap this up soon, Trixie thought.

"And now, for her final feat of spectacular sorcery and marvelous magic, the Great and Powerful Trixie will make a member of the audience… disappear!" Trixie reared back and flourished her cape. Enchanted fireworks went off behind her: a dazzling volley of sparks, swirls, and shooting stars. The crowd oohed and aahed. Trixie smirked.

"Now, which one of you little ponies is brave enough to volunteer?"

She strutted across the stage, a confident smile hanging on her face. She loved audience participation; it was always fun putting ponies on edge, even if she couldn't get away with the usual "anything you can do, I can do better!" routine with a crowd of fewer than twenty. Thanks to the weather, though, the audience was too busy shivering and glancing at burgeoning storm-clouds to really get into the act.

"What's this? Nopony's going to step forward? Looks like the Great and Powerful Trixie'll have to choose somepony herself!" The crowd buzzed, glancing at one another and whispering excitedly. Good to know I can still keep them interested.

Trixie scanned the crowd for potential volunteers. They were tourists, or at least they looked like it: they all wore tacky, comfortable clothing, and behind them stood a large, black trolley-carriage with a peevish-looking stallion at the reins. A few of them had cameras, though nopony took any pictures. They're probably on their way to a tour of Ponyville; they're not going to waste any film on some street magician. Still, maybe I can get them to waste some more of their time.

The faraway clouds grumbled impatiently. Trixie took the hint and made her choice.

"How about… you!"

Trixie's hoof shot towards a little blank-flanked filly wearing a red scarf and a large pair of sunglasses. "Do you mean me?" she squeaked.

Trixie chortled precociously. "Well, Trixie isn't pointing at anypony else. Now, come on up!" A few audience members moved aside, opening a path to the stage for the filly, but she wouldn't budge. She looked up expectantly at a rotund, mustachioed stallion standing next to her. He gave her a few gentle nudges with his hoof, but it still wasn't enough to get her moving. The filly was shaking so hard, Trixie could hear the giant pair of sunglasses rattle on her nose.

"Well, alright then. If you won't come to the stage, the Great and Powerful Trixie'll have to bring the stage to you!"

Another batch of fireworks flew up into the air, but instead of exploding, they just hung above the front row. They glided into the audience, weaving their way towards the filly, circling around her and slowly lifting her into the air. She squirmed in the grasp of the stars, her head shooting between Trixie and the old stallion even as she was lifted higher. The stars exploded, crashing into the filly with a ferocious bang. Everypony shielded their eyes.

Slowly, the audience members turned back to where the filly was. They gasped. She was gone.

The crowd was silent for a long moment. Then, the old stallion spoke up. "Where'd she go?"

Trixie sauntered slowly down the stage and into the audience, giving her cap a mysterious tilt. It was monologue time. "Trixie knew you were going to ask that question. In fact, she knows you're all thinking the exact same thought: 'where did she go?' you ask yourselves, 'she just vanished into thin air!'" Trixie stared the old stallion down. "Well, you're all wrong. Nothing ever vanishes. Nothing ever simply disappears. Not even the Great and Powerful Trixie has the magical power required to violate such a basic law of the universe, and she may well be the most powerful unicorn in all Equestria!" Trixie reared back once more, this time to call down a bolt of lightning. The audience leapt back, screaming.

Except for the old stallion. He just glared. "Seriously, where's my daughter?"

Trixie rolled her eyes. "Somepony's getting a little impatient. Well, if you want to know where she is…"

She removed her hat, closed her eyes, and clapped her hooves together. A small beam of light shot out of her horn and wound its way between the audience, eventually moving past the back of the crowd and towards the carriage.

"...Why don't you ask the driver?"

A little peep came from behind the peevish stallion: "Daddy?"

The crowd cheered and clapped their hooves. The stallion galloped over, scooped his daughter onto his back, and joined the rest of the audience in applause. Trixie hopped back on stage and tossed her cap by a sign that read, "donations welcome."

"You have all been made witness to the amazing magic of the Great and Powerful Trixie!" she said, making as many subtle gesture towards the sign as she could. "But the greatest magic of all is how quickly time flies by. Be sure to tell your friends and family about The Great and Powerful Trixie's Marvelous Magic Show, although Trixie's sure you don't need too much encouragement!"

After a few seconds, the applause died down. The crowd chattered happily and meandered around the stage, a few ponies walking over to the sign and tossing some bits into Trixie's cap.

The carriage driver let out a loud harumph, drawing everypony's attention. "Alright, this concludes our pit-stop at the Great and Powerful Trixie's wandering caravan. Now, it's time to head down to Ponyville, where we'll have dinner at our first official stop on the tour: Horte's Cuisine." Everypony shouted their approval and rushed back into the carriage.

Trixie rolled her eyes. She pushed the pop-out stage back into the caravan, undid the knot in her cape, and wiped a bit of sweat off her brow. That went pretty well, I guess, she thought, even as the tourists flooded their bus.

Trixie tried not to hear how quickly they sped away. She picked up her cap, now heavy with bits, and tossed it through the caravan's open window. She then pulled a black tarp and a few metal spikes out of a box lying by the door.

Out of curiosity, she looked down the dirt-road that lead towards Ponyville. Her eyes fixed upon the tour-trolley—now just a speck in front of the slate-grey horizon—and watched it move farther and farther away until it disappeared completely. She closed her eyes and let the breeze play with her mane.

Luna did not wish to attend tonight's Harmonious Nations conference. It wasn't that she disliked the conferences; she always enjoyed performing her royal duties, no matter how trite they might have been, and those meetings were far from trite.

However, the meetings themselves were of no particular importance. It was the time they gave Luna to spend with her sister that made them so special: Luna and Celestia would always meet at the observation deck one hour before the meeting to catch up over a pot of tea and watch the sunset. Once dusk had settled, Celestia would summon her guards, and the sisters would make their way down to the meeting hall together.

Today went a little differently. Instead of chatting idly with her sister, Princess Luna found herself sitting alone on the balcony, watching the sun tick down to dusk all by herself. When Celestia did show up, it was only to tell Luna that she had been blindsided by a mountain of paperwork left in the aftermath of the changeling invasion and that she was just too exhausted to attend the meeting. Indeed, Celestia was a wreck—hair frayed, coat blotched, eyes heavy with thick, dark circles.

In any case, Luna would have to preside over the conference herself, aided only by one of Celestia's nephews. She now found herself walking through the castle halls with that very pony: an officious, pretty-faced stallion with a blonde mane and an impossibly clean suit.

"If you don't mind me saying so, your majesty, I think you'll be splendid even without the aid of your sister!"

Luna trotted through the hallway, eyes fixed stubbornly ahead. "I appreciate thine confidence, Prince Blueblood."

Blueblood chuckled nervously. "Oh, Princess—your sister did ask me to remind you to watch your thee's and thou's." He cantered ahead of her, trying to catch her eye. "Not to question your linguistic prowess, your grace."

Luna wanted to roll her eyes. She could understand why she had to drop the royal 'we,' but why was it so bad to use proper grammar? How were ponies supposed to tell whether she was speaking to one or all of them if she only used 'you' and 'your?' And she felt like an idiot every time she made herself say 'does' instead of 'dost.'

She turned to Blueblood and forced a smile. "I take no offense. It is an acceptable correction for you to make."

"Very good, Princess!" Blueblood chortled. "Now, if I may be so bold once more; why are we not accompanied by your guards?"

Again, Luna felt the urge to roll her eyes. "My sister deems their presence inappropriate in the company of others. She finds them intimidating."

Of course, Princess Luna was outraged when her sister suggested that she attend the meeting with the Celestial Guard at her side. It was tradition for the royal guard of the presiding princess to protect the delegates, after all; anything else would be simply unacceptable. Luna would have rather gone without guards at all, and she suggested as much.

But, as always, Celestia had foreseen this conundrum and devised a solution: a clandestine operative with the power to turn invisible would don the armor of the Lunar Guard and defend the meeting while cloaked by magic. Luna had to admit, it was the perfect compromise: the meeting would be protected, the delegates would feel at ease, and Luna would still technically be adhering to tradition.

Still, there was a drawback: Luna had no idea whether the soldier was really following her. He could've wandered down some other hallway and Princess Luna would be none the wiser.

"Well, I can understand why Princess Celestia made such a decision!" Blueblood said, sensing Luna's distraction. "The eyes and ears on your guards are quite… eugh." He shivered weakly.

Luna chuckled. She almost wanted to believe that the guard was standing in front of Prince Blueblood, making lewd gestures at him.

At last, the two of them—three counting the guard, which Luna didn't—reached the meeting hall. The other delegates had taken their seats already, allowing Princess Luna and Prince Blueblood to quickly take attendance and call the meeting to order. As per the norm, much of the Cosmic Council was absent, though a pair of regular attendees were missing as well: Captain Shining Armor and Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, both of whom were away on their honeymoon, and both of whom found replacements before their departure.

Once everything had been put into order, Luna began her proceedings.

"The first item on this evening's itinerary is the effect of the changeling invasion," she said, addressing everypony in the room, though she looked at none of them. "Said effect is, in point of fact, the reason for this meeting's two-night postponement. Have you any information on the subject that bears reporting, Lieutenant Brigandine?"

A stone-faced mare sitting in Shining Armor's seat spoke. "There were no casualties outside of a few injured civilians, all of whom are currently receiving medical care. Property damage was minimal, and we have no reason to believe that the changelings have invaded any HN member states or Equestrian commonwealths."

Several ponies sighed in relief.

"It is good to hear that so little damage was dealt," said Luna. "But the true dilemma lies not in what the changelings did while they were in Canterlot nor in what they might do to other lands, but in how their queen managed to penetrate our defenses in the first place."

A tired-looking alicorn with a silver coat spoke. "Indeed. There are obvious holes in Canterlot security, and we need to plug them before the changelings mount a second offense. After all, we cannot—" The princess yawned for several seconds. Apparently, Princess Celestia wasn't the only one exhausted by the post-invasion efforts; every alicorn at the table looked a little sleepy, if not outright fatigued. It was almost enough to make Luna consider...

No, that's preposterous. If that were the case, somepony would have figured it out by now.

The silver alicorn finished her yawn. "Pardon me, everypony... As I was saying, we can't expect Princess Cadance and her husband to defend us from every threat we face."

"And why shouldn't we?" asked Prince Blueblood. Everypony turned towards him, giving him puzzled looks. "Well, really! You've all seen the power of love at work. What's stopping us from—"

"No." Luna gave Prince Blueblood a halting gaze. "Before you say anything else: no. We will not be weaponizing the power of love."

Blueblood retracted into his chair. "Apologies your majesty, but is it really such a detestable idea?"

"Yes it is!" said the pony sitting in Cadance's seat. "For a wide variety of very good reasons, yes it most certainly is. We will not be turning a marriage into an arms dealing, nor will we deprive the Crystal Empire of its princess, should it ever return." Blueblood opened his mouth to reply. "And we will not experiment upon soldiers with loved ones! End of discussion!"

"But just think of it." Blueblood leaned forward, tapping his hoof against the table. "With the power of love at our disposal, Canterlot may never be in danger again! We won't have to rely on the Elements of Harmony every time—"

"Oh, now I think I see what Prince Blueblood's getting at." A cobalt stallion sitting near Cadance's replacement wagged his hoof at Blueblood. "He just wants an excuse to keep Rarity out of Canterlot."

A few of the ponies sitting near the stallion snickered. Blueblood turned up his nose.

"I don't think that's it, Prince Palladium," said a mare sitting beside the lieutenant. "I think he just wants to exact revenge on Princess Cadance and Shining Armor for serving such a big cake at their wedding!" The ponies laughed again, more openly this time. Blueblood kept looking away.

Luna tilted her head, confused. "I'm not sure I follow. Why does Prince Blueblood wish for the Spirit of Generosity to be barred from Canterlot?"

"He doesn't," Blueblood spat. "That is to say, I don't. And for your information, Palladium"—he sneered at the cobalt stallion sitting across the table—"Rarity and I get along just fine!"

"Is that why she never wrote you back?" asked a princess sitting beside Luna. Blueblood gave the mare a deadly look.

"Hold on just a moment, everypony." Cadance's attendant gave Luna an incredulous smile. "Your majesty, have you not yet been told the greatest Grand Galloping Gala story of all time?"

"I'm not sure that I have."

"And you don't need to be," Prince Blueblood said hastily. "It's quite overrated as far as Grand Galloping Gala stories go. Now, that covers the changeling invasion. Shall we—"

"Prince Palladium tells it best!" said a stallion sitting next to Blueblood. "Oh, you'll love this, Princess Luna. It's simply a riot!"

"Alright, alright, I'll tell the story again." Palladium cleared his throat loudly. Blueblood pulled a handkerchief from his coat and dabbed at his brow. "So, Prince Blueblood is mingling at last year's Grand Galloping Gala, flirting with every lady he sees. Nothing out of the ordinary yet." A few of the mares at the table snickered. "When all of a sudden, who should appear before him but the Spirit of Generosity herself, Lady Rarity of Ponyville!" Prince Palladium leaned over the table, pointing at Blueblood. "And he doesn't recognize her! He mistakes her for some common mare!"

Prince Blueblood sank into his seat. "I think that's enough."

"Oh, but he hasn't even reached the best part!"

"Indeed, I haven't! Moving along, Prince Blueblood decides to play a game of 'how much can I get away with,' as he figures his actions won't have lasting consequences. It's not like she's somepony important, after all." At that, even a few of the alicorns were chuckling. "To make a long story short, he ends up spilling cake all over Rarity—"

"I didn't spill it on her!"

"—and she lets fly! She screams at him and smothers him with the cake he spilled on her, and she does it right there in front of everyone!" Everypony at the table laughed uproariously except for Princess Luna. She only felt sorry for Blueblood; he fidgeted in his seat like a child, cheeks flushed, gaze downcast.

Prince Palladium wiped a tear of laughter from his eye. "So, long after that fiasco's ended, I'm walking back to my carriage, when out of the corner of my eye, I see Prince Blueblood vomiting by the side of the building. His nerves must have gotten the better of him!" At that, Blueblood bolted upright. He stuffed the handkerchief back in his suit-pocket and glowered at Palladium hatefully.

"I offer him a ride back, he accepts, and as my chauffeur helps him into the carriage, he says: 'That was mortifying! Who in the names of the Spirits of Harmony does that mare think she is!?' And I say, 'Why, my dear friend, she must think she is a Spirit of Harmony!'" The delegates doubled over in laughter. Even Lieutenant Brigandine was sniggering into her hooves. "And he just nods in agreement! And then, a few seconds later, he assumes a look of abject horror..." Palladium opened his eyes and mouth as wide as he could. "He stays like that for a full minute! And then, he—"

"And then I threw up all over myself!" Prince Blueblood clapped his hooves derisively and faked laughter. "Oh, yes! Isn't it just the funniest story ever told!? It never gets old!" Princess Luna felt a bead of sweat form on her brow.

"Oh, you ruined it!" said Palladium.

"Yes, I ruined it. I ruined the one-hundredth recital of this tired joke, and I am very glad to have done so! Palladium, if you had your way, you would tell that story for a living!"

Prince Palladium rolled his eyes. "Prince Blueblood, there is no need to become so defensive. It's merely a story! Have a sense of humor!"

"I do have a sense of humor!" Blueblood roared, slamming his hooves against the table. "And that is precisely why I am getting so sick of everypony taking every chance they can to remind me of that Gala!"

The stallion sitting next to Blueblood chuckled uncomfortably. "Prince Blueblood, the smell of cake has filled you with mortal dread ever since that night. Surely, you understand the humor in that?"

"I've disliked cake my whole life for reasons far more complicated than—" Blueblood bit his lip. "And just because of that one night… It's infuriating!"

One of the mares sitting near Palladium looked askance. "Calm yourself, Blueblood. You act as though it's all we talk about."

"Oh, Princess Almandine. Yes, you've certainly earned the right to talk." Prince Blueblood hunched over the table and jabbed his hoof at her. "What was that joke I heard you tell Prince Noble the other evening? 'Blueblood hates cake so much he sends some to Rarity every day!' Such a gem. I would expect nothing less from a mare of your stature."

Luna tapped Blueblood on the shoulder with her hoof, startling him. "Prince Blueblood, please calm yourself."

"Yes, calm down," said Prince Palladium. Luna bit the inside of her cheek. "Now, I'm sure your cake-phobia is as 'complicated' as you say it is, but—"

"THEN STOP TREATING IT LIKE IT'S AS SIMPLE AS YOU'RE LETTING ON!"

Everyone jumped. The ponies nearest Blueblood fell to the floor clutched at their ears, writhing in pain. The others could only stare, eyes wide with shock—even Luna was speechless. Prince Blueblood had just used the royal Canterlot voice.

Blueblood's forehead was painted with sweat. He tried to speak, but the second he opened his mouth, everyone flinched, the ponies on the floor scrambling into the corners of the room. He galloped through the door, never to return.

"Two-hundred-twenty-one, two-hundred-twenty-two… Huh. Two-hundred-twenty-three bits and it's only Wednesday. Not bad." Trixie scooped up the gold coins and dropped them back in her lock-box. "To think, all it took was some cloaking magic and a teleportation spell, and the crowd flipped out."

Trixie reclined on her futon and looked at the ceiling, listening as the rain pattered against the tarp. "That's a forty bit surplus... How am I going to spend it all?" She buried herself deeper into her futon and stretched, only to feel something sharp jab into her withers. She looked down to find part of a spring jutting out of the mattress. "Okay, that'll cost about eight bits to patch up."

Trixie placed a pillow over the spring, then looked around her caravan to see if there was anything else in need of repair. Some of the wooden panels beneath the stove were starting to rot; that would cost perhaps two bits to replace. The window above the sink had a crack in it, which would be another twelve bits.

A drop of water hit Trixie's eye. She looked up and saw a small patch of the ceiling that was letting the rain through. That meant she would need to get a new tarp, which would cost eight bits. In the meantime, she could hang a bucket under the wet-patch and hope it wouldn't overflow.

"Eighteen bits left. What am I going to do with eighteen more bits? Hmm…" As Trixie pulled her bucket out from beneath the sink and held it up to the leak, she noticed a news-page lying under the edge of her futon. "Oh right! Let's see what's playing at HCT this week."

She pulled out the news-page and skimmed a few lines, only to frown in disappointment; the Hoofington Community Theatre wasn't putting on anything she hadn't already seen. There was The Glass City, The Importance of Being Honest, White Grow the Lilies, The Stranger… "Wait, what?"

For the first time ever, HCT is proud to present Albert Chameau's The Stranger, as adapted for the stage!

Trixie flopped back onto her futon and squealed. "I didn't know they made that book into a play! Oh, this'll be so much fun!"

Performances will take place every day this week at 7:20 PM with a matinee on Friday at 2:00 PM. Tickets cost 14 bits at the door.

"Perfect!"

This groundbreaking and controversial play, which will be performed in its original French, has been heralded as—

"'Original French!?'" Trixie dropped the newspaper and hung her head with a loud, petulant groan. "Why would—Well, I guess I could pick up an English script somewhere and read along during the show. Oh, but the Hoofington public library doesn't carry plays, and those scripts are always so expensive... I guess Ponyville's library is my only option."

She hopped up from her futon and paced around the room, her head hanging lower with every step. "Oh, but what if somepony recognizes me? What if I see that purple unicorn and she remembers who I am?" Trixie's head snapped up. " Or worst of all! What if I see those two colts!? They spent so much time around me while we were repairing the caravan; if they see me, they'll know who I am and they'll call out to me and then I'll get a big earful from everypony and… Oh…"

Trixie stopped pacing. She wrang her hooves, forcing herself to breathe as slow and deep as she could. "Okay, okay. Try to calm down. Those two don't seem like they would be spending a lot of time at the library anyway." She glanced out the window and watched the storm for a few seconds to calm herself. The wind outside howled and moaned, and thunderbolts clapped furiously against the sky. "Come to think of it, nopony is going to go out in this weather. I don't think anypony who would recognize me is going to be at the library."

Trixie walked over to a small box sitting by the door, opened it up, and pulled out a wig and a pair of fake cutie marks. "If I'm really going to do this, I better do it tonight."

As Luna watched each unicorn prince and princess bow to her before they left the meeting hall, a feeling of contempt overtook her. She marveled at the way they carried themselves, gracefully prancing out as though they hadn't just caused somepony to have a panic attack. It was a gift only non-alicorn nobility was lucky enough to receive.

"Good night, Princess Luna! Give your sister my regards, if you would," said Prince Palladium, looking as pleased as the rest of them. "All things considered, your highness, tonight's meeting was quite productive!"

Luna sneered. "Then you haven't considered all things."

"Beg pardon, your grace?"

"Nothing. Enjoy your evening."

"And you yours!" He gave Luna the deepest bow of all, then trotted out the door. "I'll see you in two weeks, your highness!"

Sooner than that. Sometime this evening I'm going to have a private conversation with you, but first… Luna tried to remember where Prince Blueblood's quarters were. She knew they were close to the meeting hall, probably less than three minutes' walk away, somewhere in the northern wing of the castle. In fact, they might have been straight down the—

"Would you like me to escort you to you to your chambers, your majesty?"

Luna screamed and spun around to find a Lunar Guardpony standing at attention before her—she had forgotten he was there. He must have done something to conceal the emissions of his invisibility glamour; otherwise, she certainly would have noticed him.

"I do not plan on returning to my bedchambers immediately," Luna said, trying to recapture her dignity, "although I would like an escort. Preferably one that I can see."

"Understood."

Luna turned around and began her walk to Blueblood's quarters, but stopped after a few seconds. She couldn't hear the guard following her. Was he still standing in the middle of the meeting hall? "Come along, unless—Oh." Luna blinked; the guard was walking right at her side, but his hoofsteps were silent. "I must say, I am... rather impressed by your quietude."

"Thank you, your grace."

"Tell me," said Luna, "have you cast a spell on yourself?"

The guard glanced up and down the hallway, then looked up at Princess Luna. "No," he said, without quite making eye-contact. "My armor reduces my weight, which makes it easy for me to move around without making any noise. But I can completely soundproof myself if you would like, your majesty."

Luna rolled her eyes. This guardpony was a precocious fellow, eager to show off his mastery of concealment magic. It was hardly an impressive feat; the five spells comprising the apocrymantic corpus—invisibility for light, inaudibility for sound, intangibility for touch, inosmibility for smell and taste, and insorceptibility for magical run-off—were all quite rudimentary, if a little hard to perfect. They were more of a physics exercise than an actual test of magical prowess.

What do those simpletons at my sister's School for Gifted Unicorns call them? The five 'I's of indiscernibility? No matter. Luna returned her attention to the guardpony. "That will not be necessary."

"Understood." The guard glanced furtively back down the hallway, searching for signs of trouble. It made Luna's lip curl; even she didn't take her job so seriously. He seemed more anxious than dedicated though, as if he were looking for a specific pony. Eventually, he spoke. "Where am I escorting you to, your highness?"

"Ah, yes. My apologies. You are accompanying me to Prince Blueblood's chambers."

"I see." The guard trotted a little more quickly, his pace overtaking Luna's. "To fill him in on everything he missed?"

Luna cocked an eyebrow. "Yes, I will be providing him with that information."

"Alright." The guard dropped his pace and followed behind Luna.

"...Among other things."

"What other things? If you don't mind telling me."

Luna gave the guard a puzzled look. All of a sudden, he wants to have a conversation? "If you must know, I will have a word with him about his outburst. Such an extreme reaction to a bit of teasing…" She bit her lip. "I'm certain he could benefit from a talk about his feelings."

The guard stepped in front of Princess Luna, stopping her in her tracks. "With all due respect, your highness, that's really not a good idea."

Luna loomed over the guard petulantly. "And why might that be? That is, if you don't mind telling me."

"I..." The guard refused to meet Luna's gaze, clearly intimidated. "I once served in the Prince's personal company, and I know from experience that he really doesn't do well in conversations about his feelings."

"All the more reason to talk to him. Do not overstep your bounds by trying to dissuade me. If anypony knows the value in conferring one's feelings, it is I."

"I don't question your judgement, your royal highness. It's just—Well, he's not the kind of pony you can change with a conversation. If anything, a talk with him will just the both of you worse off than you were before. I strongly urge you to reconsider your decision." At last he looked at Luna, staring up at her with pleading eyes.

Luna studied the guard's face for the first time in their conversation and decided he was sincerely concerned for the Princess's well-being, though he tried to hide it behind a veil of dutiful stoicism. She then saw how young he was: perhaps only slightly older than Twilight Sparkle and her friends, and certainly no older than any of the other clandestine operatives she'd met.

But of course, this is no time for coddling.

Luna leaned close to the guard and narrowed her eyes, speaking to him slowly and sharply. "I will go to Prince Blueblood's quarters. I will discuss with him whatever I please. I will then return to my bedchambers and—because you have frustrated me—I will do all of these things by myself." The guard opened his mouth to speak. "And if you contest my plans any further, I will see to it that you are demoted. Do I make myself clear?"

The guardpony looked away with a sigh, his face losing any concern or youth it had a moment ago. "Understood."

The guard's body became translucent. He grew clearer and clearer, from his hooves to his head, until every part of him was invisible. His eyes were the last to go. They looked sad.

Luna scoffed. She picked herself up and continued her walk.

Of all the ponies in Ponyville, why does this one have to be the librarian!?

Trixie shivered by the doorway, her head hanging between her forelegs. Her wig clung to her face like a scared cat, keeping her from seeing past her own eyebrows.

"You really came here through this awful weather just to pick up a script?" The purple unicorn picked up Trixie's umbrella, now broken by the wind, and tossed it into a bin by the door. "Don't get me wrong, it's always nice to meet a pony who likes to read, but even Chameau isn't worth braving this storm!"

"What can I say?" Trixie asked through chattering teeth. "I really like his work."

"Well, I can see that!" The unicorn held out her hoof with a friendly laugh. "My name is Twilight Sparkle. What's yours?"

"Lulamoon."

"Nice to meet you, Lulamoon!" Twilight Sparkle picked up Trixie's hoof and gave it a firm, well-practiced shake.

Nice to meet me, huh? Well, she doesn't recognize me. That's something good. "Nice to meet you too. Hey, is there a towel I can use?"

"Yes, I just need to go upstairs to get one. Wait right there while I'm gone, okay? I don't want any rainwater to get on my books." The unicorn quickly ascended the stairs, leaving Trixie alone to drip water on the floor.

She wiped the seafoam-green wig out of her face and glanced around the room, looking for anything suspicious. Much to her relief, the library was a completely ordinary one, except that it had a kitchen and a second floor. It wasn't at all what Trixie expected the home of the purple unicorn to be; there were no dangerous magical artifacts hanging from the walls or bizarre, ominous sigils carved into the floor. No glowing rune-stones, no statues with moving eyes, no grimoires bound together by pony skin… It was actually pretty cozy.

"Here you go!" The unicorn reappeared at the top of the stairs and tossed Trixie a small pair of towels. "Sorry they're so small. I had some larger ones I could've given you, but somebody lit them all on fire this morning." The unicorn glared at a basket sitting in a dim corner of the room.

That can't be good.

Trixie stared into the basket as nonchalantly as she could, drying herself with light, distracted dabs. Whatever was in that basket was alive and asleep, snoring softly like a small dog. She then noticed the scaley, spiked tail poking out from under the blanket.

"Is that a dragon?"

Twilight looked back at Trixie, smiling with pride. "Yep! He's a baby dragon, alright. And a pretty terrific personal assistant, too."

"That, um…" Trixie couldn't think of anything to say. She just froze, processing the fact that she had walked into a house with a dragon in it. And then there was Twilight Sparkle, thumbing through a stack of scripts as if it were a completely normal thing to live with an animal that could breathe fire.

The towels tugged themselves out of Trixie's magical grasp, snapping her out of her stupor. "I wasn't finished with those."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Twilight said, handing the towels back to Trixie. "I just assumed because you weren't using them."

"Never mind. It's fine. I'm just going to get wet again as soon as I leave."

"If you insist." Twilight levitated the towels over to the dragon's corner of the room and nestled them beneath the basket. Trixie gave her a confused look. "His body heat dries them off. You said you wanted a copy of The Stranger?"

"The theatrical adaptation, yes."

"Excellent. I've got it right here." Twilight pulled a script out of the small pile and stuffed the rest back into the bookshelf. "You know, you don't have to leave right away. Before you came in, I was preparing for a late-night study session. I thought I might need some caffeine, so I brewed myself a pot of tea, but there's too much for one pony." The unicorn set the book down on the kitchen counter, next to a steaming teapot and a bowl of sugarcubes. "Would you like a cup?"

Trixie cast a sidelong glance out the window. The rain was still torrential, and the wind still blew at gale-force. She turned back to Twilight and nodded her head.

Twilight smiled approvingly, then pulled a pair of teacups out of the cupboard. "How do you take yours?"

"With lemon."

Twilight walked over to the refrigerator, opened its door, and nosed through its contents. As she did, Trixie glanced around the room, looking for a topic of conversation. No point in making this completely awkward, after all. Her eyes settled on the basket in the corner. "So, um... how did your dragon light your towels on fire?"

"Oh, it wasn't the dragon," said Twilight, her face still buried in the refrigerator. "It was my phoenix."

"Your what?" Trixie's head shot towards the basket. A tiny, yellow bundle of feathers lay on top of the baby dragon.

"Yes, I know," Twilight continued. "I live in a treehouse filled with books and paper with two creatures that shoot flames from their mouths. It wasn't easy to get a pass from the safety inspector."

"How—So you own a dragon and a phoenix?"

"And an owl!" Twilight giggled. She pulled a few lemon wedges out of the fridge and squeezed some of the juice into a cup. "Is that enough?"

"Enough lemon juice or enough pets?"

Twilight let out a loud snort, then poured a shaky stream of tea into Trixie's cup, nearly spilling it several times. "Yes, it's quite a menagerie! I know a pony who takes care of animals for a living—when I told her and my other friends about the phoenix, she was afraid that I was becoming a hoarder!"

Once Twilight was through pouring tea, she handed the cup to Trixie, who took it with an uneasy giggle. "So, you're a librarian, then?"

"That's just a day job," Twilight answered, still chuckling at her own story. "I'm actually a student."

Trixie took a sip of the tea to calm her nerves, and was surprised by how good it tasted. "What do you study?"

"A little bit of everything. I mostly study the magic of friendship, though."

"The magic of friendship…" Trixie swirled the tea in her cup and watched the leaves spin, laughing despite herself. "I didn't know there was such a thing."

"Oh, you'd be surprised! Actually, if you're not busy, tomorrow's the day Golden Oaks was founded. I'm having an open house to celebrate, and all my friends will—" A soft grumble came from the corner of the room. Twilight and Trixie both looked to find that the baby had awoken and was now sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes. Now that Trixie had a better look at him, he seemed pretty adorable. Harmlessly so, in fact.

"Twilight?" the dragon said, yawning. "What's going on?"

"Spike." Twilight set down her cup and cantered over to the baby dragon. "I'm just having some tea with a friend while we wait for the storm to pass."

I'm her friend? Trixie had to mull that thought over for a moment; she wasn't sure how it made her feel.

"I'm sorry if we woke you up."

"S'okay, Twilight…"

"Is Peewee still asleep, Spike?"

The dragon looked at the little Phoenix lying next to him. "I think so…"

Twilight pulled Spike's covers back over him. "Do you want to go to your bedroom where it's nice and quiet?"

"No…" The dragon looked over at Trixie and scratched his head. "Who's that?"

"She's that friend I was—You know what? It's too late in the evening for us to be having a conversation." Twilight gently lifted the basket into the air, Spike and Peewee still inside, and carried it towards a small room beneath the staircase. "Why don't I just take you into your bedroom, where you can get a good night's sleep? When you wake up tomorrow morning, I can tell you all about—"

The dragon pointed at Trixie. "What's wrong with her cutie mark?"

Trixie glanced down at her flank. The fake cutie make was pealing off, revealing the real one underneath. She must have rubbed too hard when she was drying itself, that or the glue was giving out; it didn't matter either way. She was caught for sure.

But Twilight didn't seem to notice anything at first. She gave the dragon a chastening glare, then looked over to where he was pointing. "Spike, you know it isn't polite to—Oh my gosh."

Without thinking, Trixie dashed for the door, but the purple unicorn's magic yanked her off the ground before she could make it. She struggled fiercely, kicking the air beneath her, trying to break free of Twilight's grasp.

"Hmm."

Trixie froze. She turned slowly around, as far back as she could without hurting herself. There was Twilight, studying her with the same expression a pony might give while looking at a traffic accident. "Well, this is awkward."

"You're not the one in the wig."

Trixie plummeted to the floor with a shriek. She looked up, dazed, to see Twilight marching towards her with a sour look, a piece of the cutie mark hanging in the air beside her. "What is this? Why are you pretending to be somepony else?"

Because I was afraid that if you recognized me, I would be put in a difficult situation. Kind of like the one I'm in right now.

"Because sometimes, the Great and Powerful Trixie likes to go about town without being begged to perform spectacular feats of magic!"

Twilight smacked her forehead. "I see you haven't learned anything since the ursa minor incident."

"Oh, but Trixie has learned something!" She straightened up and brushed herself off, taking a moment to get fully into character. "In fact, Trixie has learned two things: don't tell the ursa major story while impressionable foals are around, and don't ever accept tea from Twilight Sparkle!" She twisted up her face, trying to look as disgusted as possible in the hopes that Twilight would kick her out of the library. Anything to get out of this mess.

"Well, that's just great!" Twilight said, looking genuinely hurt. "Right as I think I'm about to make a new friend, surprise! It's just Trixie in a wig, and she hasn't changed one bit!" She looked towards the kitchen, picked up Trixie's tea-cup with a flash of magic, and dumped its contents into the sink. "I really did hope we could be friends... Look, if you promise not to disturb Spike, I can set up the guest bed downstairs. You can wait out the storm here."

Trixie's jaw fell. "You're kidding." Twilight gave Trixie a deadpan look. "You're kidding, right?"

"Don't you live outside Ponyville? It's a half-hour's gallop just to the edge of town, and you already look miserable. Just stay here tonight. I'll be on the second floor studying, so we won't be at each-others' throats."

"You're being serious," Trixie said, shaking her head. "You're really, truly being serious! What is wrong with you? Do like me all of a sudden?"

Twilight let out a heavy sigh. "To be frank? No. After tonight, Trixie, I don't like you very much at all. But I don't hate you either, so I'm not letting you go outside in this weather. You're staying here."

Trixie couldn't think of a reply. She just sat there, her mouth hanging open stupidly.

Luna found Prince Blueblood's chambers to be nearly as lavish as her own. Everything about the room was tastelessly extravagant: every rug was foreign, every golden surface was twenty-four carats, every piece of wooden furniture was agarwood and covered in intricate, dancing patterns. It was obvious how he chose to spend his monthly stipend.

"I'm sorry my chambers are a bit of a mess," said Prince Blueblood. He sat at an antique-looking writing desk, quill and parchment at the ready. "If I'd known you were coming, your majesty, I wouldn't have given my cleaning staff the night off. Nor my guard for that matter. Now, what is it you wish to discuss?"

Luna let out a thin sigh; this was not going to be easy. "Tonight's conference, if that's alright."

"But of course!" Blueblood lifted his quill to the paper, a relieved smile on his face. "Now, if I am not mistaken, the second item on the agenda was whether or not to grant sovereignty to the colony of Asinia?"

"That was the second topic of discussion, yes." Luna walked over to the window next to Blueblood's desk and drew the curtains open with a shimmer of magic, taking a moment to gaze at her sky. It was not the pristine expanse of heaven she expected; the stars over Ponyville were marred by clouds. "...But first, I would like to discuss your outburst. For that is a topic that warrants discussion above all others."

Blueblood's face fell. "Oh, please don't go to the trouble."

Luna opened the window up. A soft breeze poked at Blueblood's mane and pulled the edges of his parchment. "Prince Blueblood, your reaction to Prince Palladium's story was quite telling. To use the royal Canterlot voice on accident, you must have felt a great deal of anguish. I was rather surprised you could use it at all."

Blueblood adjusted his bow tie, sweat lining his brow. "Yes, well, it's a talent that I rarely get the chance to—We don't need to talk about this, your grace. Just know that I deeply regret my behavior and that it will never happen again."

"I didn't come here to reprimand you, Prince Blueblood. I only wish to help you."

"It's nothing you need to concern yourself with." Blueblood looked down at the blank sheet of parchment, a few drops of sweat falling onto the page. "For the most part, I have control over my voice."

Luna gave Blueblood a knowing look. "For the most part?"

"Yes, for the most part." Blueblood shoved the parchment and quill back in his desk, then searched fruitlessly for his handkerchief—his evening wear had no pockets. "That is to say, I rarely let my voice slip. The discussion you wish to have with me is entirely unnecessary."

"I do not think that is the case, Prince Blueblood. I think you should talk to somepony about your problem so that we may avoid such displays in the future." Luna took a seat in front of Blueblood and gave him a hopeful look, absentmindedly tracing the carvings on his desk. "Now, at the conference, you said that your situation was complicated, but these things rarely are. Why don't you—"

"What, exactly, do you mean by 'such displays?'" Blueblood leaned over his desk, a malicious look in his eye.

Luna blinked. Had she offended him? "Well... If I may be perfectly frank, I thought your actions were quite extreme, for lack of a better word. Of course, I completely sympa—"

"Extreme? You thought my actions were extreme?"

"Are you trying to imply something?"

"Yes, your highness." Blueblood got up from his chair, closed the windows, and drew the curtains shut with a loud snap. "I mean to say that you are a hypocrite."

"And why, may I ask, is that?"

"Well... If you want to talk about extremity"—Blueblood turned to glare at Luna, his voice cold and quiet—"look no further than the mare who tried to bring about eternal night just because she thought she wasn't getting enough attention."

Luna balked at Blueblood's words. All she could do in reply was sputter indignantly. "Thou—you—It was far more complicated than—"

"Complicated? Are you sure? Because, you know, these sorts of things rarely are." Blueblood turned away and briskly opened his chamber doors. "Now, I believe I've made myself clear. Get out."

"I will not!" Luna slammed the doors shut with a flare of magic and loomed murderously over Blueblood. "How dare you bring my faults to light when you are so very full of your own! To repay my compassion with this most ungrateful of—"

"SILENCE! I will not subject myself to this blatant condescension—"

"I do not condescend!"

"—under the obvious guise of 'compassion!' You will leave my quarters this instant!"

Luna scoffed. "You think you can order me out of your chambers? When they are in my castle? The insolence!" She pounded her hooves against the desk, her horn ablaze. "I am your princess! Mark my words, Prince Blueblood, you will suffer the consequences of—"

"You may be my princess!" Blueblood roared. "But I am still a prince! And these are my quarters, no matter whose castle they're in!" With a flash of his horn, the chamber doors swung violently open, nearly tearing themselves off their hinges. "You. WILL. LEAVE!"

Luna wanted desperately to hit Blueblood. She wanted to wring his neck with her magic. She wanted to scream at him as loud as she could until he passed out, bleeding from the ears, deafened by the sound of a true Cosmic Councilmare's voice.

But she couldn't. She already felt a touch of familiar darkness creeping into her heart. If she took this any further, she might fall prey to the Nightmare Force again, and she'd already come so close on so many occasions: Discord's return, Nightmare Night, that first Cosmic Council meeting where Scorpio called her a "snivelling, weak-hearted little urchin" before disavowing his allegiance to her, as did Equuleus and Cassiopeia. Even on the night of the wedding reception, when she discovered that she'd slept through an attack on her kingdom...

No, she wouldn't allow herself to lose another thousand years. Instead, she marched out the door in a furious huff, not bothering to hide her anger from passers-by who'd left their chambers to see what all the yelling was about.

Trixie couldn't sleep. She didn't want to sleep. All she wanted to do was check out her script and leave.

Sleeping should have been easy, though. Twilight's library was completely dark, save a bit of candle-light flickering from the top of the stairs. The house was mostly quiet as well, except for the sound of quill scratching parchment. It reminded her of the few months she spent in poverty after the ursa minor incident, when she couldn't afford lamp oil and had to make due with wax candles instead.

The reminder left Trixie resentful. She turned away from the staircase and pushed her face into the pillow, trying to ignore the candlelight and the quill-scratching and all the other restless sounds. Twilight Sparkle... What kind of a name for a powerful magician is that?

But Twilight Sparkle didn't make herself out to be a powerful magician. True, she was a fortitudinous unicorn; she did defeat an ursa minor single handedly, after all. In fact, she had many magical elements under her control, living or otherwise, and her studies could only give her more power. She was probably poring over some ancient text right now, learning all sorts of things well beyond Trixie's comprehension.

At the same time, though, Twilight was kind of doofy. She was socially awkward. She lived in a town called Ponyville, and she had no less than three different pets. She studied the magic of friendship.

A soft thump came from up the stairs. Something blocked the light of the candle.

Did she just fall asleep at her desk?

Trixie perked her ears. There was no scratching of the quill, no clattering of teacup and plate, no chair legs grating against the floor. The room was completely silent.

Wait. No rain? No thunder?

She crawled out of bed, muted her hoofsteps with a sound-cancelling charm, and crept across the floor as quickly as she could. Once she had found her wig, she vanished silently out the door.

It wasn't until she got home that she realized what had been left behind.

"I was only trying to help him, sister! I held out my hoof and he rudely smacked it away!" Luna stomped around her bedchambers, hot tears of anger burning her eyes. Her sister sat at the end of the bed, listening patiently. "Thou shouldst have heard him! What he said was treasonous!"

"Luna, please try to calm down." Celestia touched Luna's shoulder with the tip of her wing, halting the tirade. "Ranting and raving about Prince Blueblood isn't going to make you feel any better. Besides, it pains me to see you so angry."

"I am not angry." Celestia cocked an eyebrow. "I speak the truth, sister!"

Celestia moved over to Luna's side and draped a long, tired wing across her sister's back, pulling her close. Luna leaned into her Celestia's touch with a weary sigh. "I am just very frustrated. When Prince Palladium told his story, I was reminded of... Well, you are no doubt aware." Luna's eyes began to sting again. "I imagined myself in Prince Blueblood's place, and I felt sorry for him. Now I'm not sure what I feel."

That was a lie. Luna knew exactly what she felt: impotence, despair, and a black, unholy rage. Still, those feeling would pass in time; there was no point revealing them.

Celestia nuzzled Luna's cheek. "I know you only wanted to keep Prince Blueblood from making the same fatal mistakes you did, but sometimes a pony needs to make a mistake before he can learn. Of course, this does not mean Prince Blueblood will get away with his behavior." Celestia turned away from Luna, then yawned for several seconds.

Luna frowned. It was unfair that Celestia had to listen to such petty concerns, especially when she was already so greatly encumbered. With her heavy eyelids and trembling wings, she looked as though she were about to fall asleep, and what kind of sister would Luna be if she were to deny Celestia the rest she deserved?

Luna stepped out from beneath Celestia's wing, giving her a concerned smile. "Sister, I do not wish to burden you at so late an hour. What say I escort you back to your bedchambers so you may retire? We may continue this conversation over breakfast."

Celestia pulled herself off the ground using Luna as a brace, her head resting affectionately on Luna's withers. "I can think of nothing I'd like more, little sister." The Princesses smiled warmly at each other for a short while. Luna trotted over to the door to open it for Celestia, but just as she gripped the handle, she heard a great thump come from behind her, followed by another yawn. She turned around to see what was the matter.

"Goodness, sister, you are even more—" Luna froze. A wave of frightened nausea constricted her throat.

Celestia's fur fell from her face in loose, reddened clumps, cracks and sores covering the skin beneath. It was as though some fungus had seeped beneath the hairs on her head and was now spreading downwards through her flesh, poisoning the rest of her body from the outside-in.

"Luna, what is… My..." Celestia brought a hoof her cheek. When she looked at it, she found that it was covered in blood. "My… Oh, no." She crumpled to the floor.

"Sister!" Luna rushed to Celestia's side and took her head in her hooves, gently stroking the parts of her mane that weren't falling out. She trembled like a foal, feeling weak and hot and cold all at once, more aware of her mortality than she'd been in thousands of years.

She was right all along. It had finally happened, just as they were sure it never would.

With some effort, Celestia brought her muzzle to Luna's ear and let out a feeble whisper: "Take a letter."

Twilight woke up in a very uncomfortable position. Her head was lying on a hard surface, and her spine felt like it had been dipped in rubber cement. She peeled herself off her desk and found a black smear on the parchment beneath her, as well as a hoofprint right beside it. Not again.

She slunk over to her dresser and looked at herself in the mirror. With her messy hair and blackened face, she looked like she'd spent the night in the Everfree Forest. She wiped off the rest of the ink with a tissue, then tied her hair up with a white ribbon, hoping it would be enough to hide her cowlick.

I didn't set the alarm clock. Pinkie Pie's going to be here any minute with her party supplies, and I'll have to… A delicious, hearty smell wafted from the kitchen. Twilight set down her brush, tightened the ribbon in her mane, and walked over to the top of the staircase. Is Trixie cooking me breakfast?

When she looked over, she found that Spike was frying strips of hay bacon in a pan, standing on a chair so he could reach the stove-top. There was already a large, steaming plate of bacon on the kitchen table, along with Peewee, who was happily munching on the crumbs.

Twilight smiled to herself. I should have known better. "Good morning, Spike."

"G'morning Twilight! Hey, what happened to your friend from last night? Did she stay over?" Spike gestured at an empty bed sitting near the bookshelves.

Twilight shook her head. "Believe it or not, that friend was actually Trixie in disguise."

"What!?" Spike glared at Twilight in disbelief. "That was Trixie!? Tell me you didn't set that bed up for her!" He violently flipped the bacon in the pan, causing a few drops of oil to splash onto the table. Peewee dodged the grease with an angry squawk, then grabbed his bacon and flew up the stairs.

Twilight trotted down the stairs and over to the bed. She tugged the blankets out of the bedspread, lined them up in the air, folded them all into a large bundle, and tossed them into a hamper beside Spike's bedroom. "It was raining pretty heavily, Spike. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Gee, I dunno! Maybe just let her leave?" Spike hopped off of his chair and snatched up a piece of bacon, tearing off a large chunk between his teeth. "Heck, I'd have forced her walk home in the rain! I'd take pictures!"

"As funny as that might be, I don't want to give Trixie a legitimate reason to hate me."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense." Spike walked back to the stove and shut off the burners.

"Spike... what's with all this bacon?"

Spike pulled the frying pan off the stove and slid the rest of the bacon onto the plate. "Hm? Oh, Pinkie Pie came over here earlier and asked me to make some for the party. She said it was for a new cupcake recipe. She and Applejack are gonna bring over all the other ingredients."

Twilight tilted her head. "Bacon cupcakes with apples? That sounds—Wait a second, Spike. Was Pinkie Pie really here earlier this morning?"

Spike pulled some dish-soap out of the cabinet beneath the sink. "Yup."

"And she didn't wake me up?"

"You're welcome." He gave Twilight a tired glare, then pulled himself onto the counter with a grunt.

"Let me help you with that." Twilight lifted up the chair by the stove and set it in front of the sink.

"Thanks. Hey, before I forget—I saw a letter next to my bed this morning when I woke up. I must'a coughed it up in my sleep. It's right there if you wanna read it." Spike pointed towards the kitchen table.

A letter with a golden seal sat right behind the bacon platter. Twilight opened it up and read the first line.

To my friend and savior: Twilight Sparkle,

Twilight chuckled. "I think it's from Princess Luna."

"Really? What's it say?"

"Give me a second, Spike. I need to read it before I can tell you what it says."

To my friend and savior: Twilight Sparkle,

It is my immense displeasure to inform you that every alicorn in Canterlot has fallen fatally ill, not least of all my sister. By the time you read this, she will almost certainly have passed.

Twilight stopped reading. She set the letter back down.

Spike hopped out of his chair and walked over to the kitchen table, giving Twilight a look of vague concern."What's the letter say? Is something wrong?"

"It's nothing. Somepony's just trying to pull a sick joke on us. Trixie probably left it."

"Huh. I guess she hates you anyway." Spike reached onto the kitchen table and grabbed the letter.

"Spike, don't read it!" Twilight snatched the letter out of Spike's hands and held it above her, well out of his reach.

"Aw, c'mon!"

"No." Twilight shook her head. It was just some twisted prank, that's all. No point letting Spike read it.

Then again…

For a prank, it was written well. It also had the royal seal, which was difficult to forge.

"Spike, I think there's still some soot in the downstairs bathroom. Could you go clean it up?"

"But—"

"Spike, you know what's going to happen if you can't take proper care of Peewee!"

After a few more grumbles of protest, Spike trudged into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. Twilight returned to the letter.

To my friend and savior: Twilight Sparkle,

It is my immense displeasure to inform you that every alicorn in Canterlot has fallen fatally ill, not least of all my sister. By the time you read this, she will almost certainly have passed. I know naught of your sister-in-law's condition, though I suspect she is ill as well.

Thankfully, there is a cure, and if you travel down to the deepest depths of Tartarus, you will find it: a panacea, hidden away so that it may only be used in times of need. However, you and your friends will be unable to obtain this cure on your own. The chaos found at those depths will exhaust you both physically and emotionally, leaving you largely unable to complete the challenges that lie in wait. The Elements of Harmony will be rendered powerless as well, which is why I did not send them to you.

Instead of going by yourselves, you and the other Spirits of Harmony will be guided by those who have what is necessary to brave the perils of Tartarus. Their power manifests itself thusly: they are seemingly unable to learn from their mistakes. Because of this, they will require your aid as much as you require theirs.

My sister tells me that you have already met seven of these individuals. You need only find six. I have sent one of them to you already, and he is accompanied by a newly appointed agent of the Lunar Guard. These two have been taught the secrets of Tartarus and the panacea, as they are both tied to Equestrian royalty.

Find the other beings, traverse Tartarus, and obtain the panacea. You haven't any time to lose.

Good luck,

Princess Luna

It wasn't a prank. Nopony would go to these lengths for a prank.

Twilight dropped the letter on the floor, fell into a chair, and held her head in her hooves. A million questions swam through her mind. Why was this happening so suddenly? Who were the other guides? Where was Twilight supposed to find them? How were they supposed to get all the way through Tartarus, of all places? Why would not being able to learn from your mistakes make you any better off down there?

Could Princess Celestia really be dead?

Twilight bolted out of her chair, shaking her head. I can't think like that right now. I need to find the others so we can figure out—

Her train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door.

He was floating. It didn't feel like it, though. It felt like he was standing, but he must have been floating, because there was no floor to stand upon. There were no walls, either; in fact, there were no ceilings, windows, or barriers of any kind. There was only the sky: a perfect stretch of forget-me-not-blue dotted with bright, snowy clouds.

Woven into every one of these clouds were innumerable diamonds. They were fragmented and oddly shaped, some bigger than others, but they were all colorless. It seemed to be the only thing every diamond had in common. He reached out and felt the ones on the cloud closest to him, and found that each diamond was like a memory.

He tapped an especially large diamond and felt a cold hoof stepping on his cheek.

He touched an even larger diamond. A friend of his screamed insults at him, flecking his face with spit.

He touched the biggest diamond he could find and saw his lover turn to leave, her tail lashing at his face, stinging his lips.

"Are all these really mine?" he asked. "No, they can't be. I only remember one of these, although I'd forgotten it until now." But how could he ever forget about such a large diamond? How could a painful memory fade away and then reappear as easily as it went? Where did it go while it was gone? Had it been here this whole time, waiting for him to make the choice that would bring him to it?

He touched the smallest diamond he could see. Downy feathers brushed against his legs, and he smelled several beautiful flowers whose names he didn't know. It wasn't his memory.

Author's Note

To learn more about the biological basis of magic in ponies, be sure to read Section I of Gloaming Glimmer's Sorcerological Compendium.

A special thanks to Semblance for his or her contributions to this entry.

Choice and Uncertainty

CHOICE AND UNCERTAINTY

Some of the diamonds didn't hold complete memories; they lacked the tangibility. What they had instead was curt and unclear, absent of any real substance. It was just emotion with a brief flash of context.

He tapped a smaller diamond and felt a terrible rage. For a second he saw somepony—a foal—reading a book that had a purple and gold cover.

He touched a much larger diamond and saw a tall, white alicorn lying in a black box. Dread grabbed his heart with icy fingers.

As he continued to touch the incomplete diamonds, he wondered what they meant. Perhaps they were only phantoms? False remembrances or stories from a book? Yes, they must have been things like those. Things that hadn't happened to you; stories that you heard from your friends or read about in a newspaper. Things that might happen, but haven't yet.

Many of the diamonds were quite large, despite their contents' fragility. They must have weighed their owners down tremendously.

"For all your decisions to be colored by memories you don't really have," he mused. "It must make some choices very easy."

He touched another one of the bigger diamonds and saw a pony carrying a stethoscope and a clipboard. He felt like he was going to die.

"Then again, it could make some choices next to impossible."

Twilight knew she wasn't fit for any sort of company, let alone royalty. She hadn't showered, brushed her teeth, or even combed her mane. The only thing she had going for her was the ribbon in her hair, though she knew her mane looked better when it was let down. And yet, Prince Blueblood seemed far too concerned with his own appearance to notice anything other than himself.

"This is all very kind of you, Miss Sparkle," he said, trembling. "I've been craving a good cup of tea since I left Canterlot. I must look dreadful." With a flash of her horn, Twilight dropped a sugarcube into a cup of tea and set it down gently before him. He brought it to his lips and took a long drink, then ran a shaky hoof through his mane. It did seem like a few hairs were out-of-place.

"Don't worry about it, your grace." Twilight poured a cup for herself and sat down across from him. She began to chew the inside of her lip; the situation felt uncomfortably familiar. "So, you were saying that Princess Luna sent you here?"

"Sent me!? She practically shipped me!" Blueblood scowled and took a deep swig of tea. "Just as I've retired for the evening, she batters down my door, drags me out of bed, and tells me I have to go to Ponyville to accompany you and the other Spirits of Harmony on some sort of pilgrimage!"

That clinched it: Prince Blueblood was one of the guides. Twilight chewed her lip a little harder.

"It was a truly mortifying experience, let me tell you!" Blueblood continued. "I barely had time to pack half of what I would need before she teleported me off to the train station!"

"Uh-huh." Twilight looked past Blueblood and found at least five suitcases stacked on top of the guest bed.

"I mean no disrespect to her majesty, of course, but honestly." Blueblood downed the rest of his tea, then swiftly levitated the pot over to the table and refilled his cup. "I tried to get some sleep on the way over. Of course, the ride was simply tempestuous. I barely got in two hours before I arrived."

"Uh-huh."

Blueblood pulled the bowl of sugarcubes over to the table, plucked one out with a bit of magic, dropped it into his tea, and took a fragile sip. Twilight was chewing her lip so hard she could taste blood.

Tartarus was supposed to be a place where all the most evil creatures that had ever threatened Equestria were imprisoned. Blueblood took his tea with one sugar and had trouble sleeping on trains. He wasn't even properly equipped to enter Tartarus, let alone trek all the way to the bottom and back.

"Listen, your highness..." Twilight cast a sidelong glance at the bathroom. The door was still tightly shut, meaning Spike wouldn't be able to hear. "I received a letter from Princess Luna just before you got here. She told me you would be coming."

Blueblood scoffed. "Did she also tell you that when I requested a security detail, she grabbed the first Lunar Guardpony she could find and forced me to drag him along?"

"Not in so many words…" Twilight glanced around the room. "Where is he?"

"Where is who, Miss Sparkle?

"The guard." She leaned to the side and peered behind Blueblood. "I'm not sure if he's here. If he is, I can't see him."

Blueblood spun around in his chair and let out a fierce yell: "Oh, for heaven's sake, would you just stay visible!?"

A unicorn wearing a black suit of armor appeared a few feet away.

"What is wrong with you?" Blueblood asked, giving the guard a violent sneer. "Do you think that Twilight Sparkle is an assassin or something?"

"My apologies, your highness. It's just that, because of the changelings—"

"I don't want to hear about changelings right now!" Blueblood jabbed his hoof at the door. "Wait outside! You can defend me all you want from there."

"Understood." For a moment, Twilight thought she saw the guard's eye twitch. He turned around and walked briskly out the door before she could study him any further, vanishing as he went.

Blueblood gave Twilight an apologetic look. "He used to be a personal guard of mine. When he asked to be reassigned, I was more than happy to oblige. He had this unpleasant habit of sneaking up on me, you see." He glared at the door with hatred in his eyes. "But that's not worth getting into at the moment. Now, you probably know far more about this quest than I do. What else did this letter of yours say?"

By the time you read this, she will almost certainly have passed.

Twilight looked down at the letter sitting beneath her chair and swept it under the table with a bit of magic. "Well, it didn't go into great detail, but it boils down to this: I and the other Spirits of Harmony will be journeying into Tartarus, and you will be coming with us."

"Tartarus?" Blueblood set down his teacup with a sharp clatter and leaned contemplatively over the table, his brow furrowing. "Now I see why she sent me. As a member of the royal family, I know far more about Tartarus than most ponies. I imagine the letter said as much, but then..." Twilight thought she saw a few drops of sweat appear on his forehead. "Did the letter say why she specifically sent me, as opposed to some other prince or princess?"

Twilight pursed her lips. Basically, it said we need to find a bunch of ponies who never learn from their mistakes and you're probably one of them. Care for some hay bacon?

"Well, it did... but you might not want to hear it."

"Oh, that's quite alright. I like to think I have thick skin."

So do I.

Twilight thought she felt the ribbon slipping off of her mane, so she grabbed the bow's ends and tugged them as hard as she could, stretching her forehead a bit. "I'm sorry, your highness, but there was a lot of information in that letter. I'd like to wait for my friends to get here before I explain everything."

"Well, that's understandable," Blueblood said, pulling a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and dabbing at his brow. "Although I don't suppose I could just read it myself?"

That thought hadn't occurred to Twilight. She nodded her head, then pulled the letter out from underneath the table and showed it to Blueblood.

He cocked an eyebrow.

Pinkie Pie skipped down the street, saddle bags bouncing buoyantly on her back. The treehouse was only a couple blocks away, and she wanted to finish writing her Library Day Party song before she got there, though she wasn't sure if she would make it. All she had to do was think of a few more lines.

How about… 'The cupcakes are dee-lectable! The music can't be beat! So, come on! Come on! One and all, to the Librar-ee Day feast!' She shook her head. Naw, that's no good. It's a party, not a feast.

Pinkie Pie was trying to focus on the song, but how could she? It was such a beautiful day out! And Twilight's treehouse was only seconds away! Still, she had to try. Library Day bash! What rhymes with bash? Dash? We've got Rainbow Dash! But what if Rainbow Dash doesn't show up?

Pinkie found herself in Twilight's front yard before she could come up with anything better. Oh well! I've got a few hours before the party starts anyway.

Pinkie Pie cantered across the lawn, up the walkway, and onto the doormat, then raised her hoof to knock. But just as her hoof tapped the door, something shoved her back onto the grass. A black unicorn wearing a thick suit of armor appeared before her, seemingly from out of nowhere. He loomed over her menacingly. "Please state your name and the business you have here."

Pinkie was silent. Her jaw hung open and her head sloped to the side.

"I'll ask you again," the guard said, his horn starting to glow. "State your name and the—"

"A BAT PONY!" Pinkie Pie dashed up to the guard and studied him with wide eyes, an impossibly large smile on her face. "You've got the frilly ears and the lizard eyes and everything! Except you don't have any wings, so I guess you're not really a bat, huh?" She craned her neck, trying to get a better look at his horn. "What's an animal that has one horn and only comes out at night?"

The guard's horn glowed a little brighter. "Okay, I'm going to ask you one more time. Tell me—"

"You guys guard Princess Luna, right? Is she gonna come to the party!?" Pinkie Pie trotted over to his side and poked one of the spikes on his breastplate. "Hey, how have things been going in Canterlot since we left?"

The guard disappeared. Pinkie blinked in shock. "Hey, where'd you go? I've got more questions!"

An invisible force lifted Pinkie Pie up and hurled her through the fence next door, slamming her into the house with a loud, painful thwack.

Pinkie sprawled out on the green, her head throbbing and her ears ringing. There was a sickening chill in her bones—she couldn't tell what it was, but she knew it was doing a lot of really weird stuff to the world around her. It made the ground tremble and shake and caused the grass to prickle against her coat. The chills disoriented her, too; when she tried to stand up, she found that she was too dizzy and could only shift along the ground.

After a moment, Twilight burst through the front door, followed by a white stallion with a very angry look on his face. Twilight cantered over to Pinkie Pie and helped her up. "Are you okay?"

"Kinda," Pinkie said, her legs wobbling, "but I don't think that guardpony likes me very much…"

Twilight felt Pinkie Pie's head, examining it for any injuries, and touched a tender spot with her hoof. The bone-chill shot through Pinkie's body, ripping the earth out from under her legs and forcing her back onto the ground.

"Sorry about that. This should make you feel a little better." Twilight leaned over and shined a magic light on Pinkie's head. Much to Pinkie's relief, the chills started to fade. The grass felt more itchy than prickly, and the tremors were reduced to a low quiver.

"Twilight, what's..." Pinkie Pie tried to turn her head, but the few remaining chills kept her from moving more than an inch.

"I think he hit you with an anti-magic spell," said Twilight. "It tends to make earth ponies feel really unsteady. I don't know a full counter-spell off the top of my head—all I did just then was cast a charm that mimics the natural magic of earth pony physiology—so I'll have to ask the guard to lift the hex himself. Don't try to move." She galloped away.

Pinkie glanced over to see the guard standing at the foot of the walkway with an exhausted look on his face. The white pony shouted at him furiously, eyes bulging, veins popping out of his neck. "Oh, excellent work! Yes, thank you so much for protecting me from the fluffy, pink filly!"

"She seemed mentally unstable and there was a very good chance that she was a changeling. I followed standard protocol. What else would you have had me do?"

"I'll tell you what I wouldn't have had you do!" the stallion roared. "At least thirty bits in property damage! That's what I wouldn't have had you do!"

Twilight dashed up to the blonde stallion and gave his shoulder a few quick taps. "Sorry to interrupt, your majesty, but Pinkie Pie needs to be de-hexed."

"Ah, of course! Where are my priorities?" The two stallions cantered to Pinkie's side; the black guard kept his distance, but the white one leaned over her, his brow knitted with concern. "I'm terribly sorry about this. My name is Prince Blueblood, and it is truly an honor to meet you, Miss Pie. I only wish our introduction could take place under better circumstances." He turned to glare at the guard. "Any time now?"

The guardpony reluctantly tapped Pinkie's forehead with his glowing horn. All the chills and disorientation vanished from her body, leaving her just as spritely as she was a moment ago. She hopped up and gave Blueblood a vigorous hoof-shake that moved his entire body. "Aw, don't worry about it! It's nice to meet you, too!"

Once the full-body hoofshake was over, Blueblood let out a relieved sigh. "I am very glad to hear it! I'd hate for my first visit to Ponyville to be marred by such—"

"This is your first time in Ponyville!?" Pinkie Pie whirled around, dove into her saddle bags, and yanked out a brightly colored wagon.

Blueblood's jaw fell. "How did you fit that in your—"

"Finally, I get to sing my welcome song!" Pinkie shouted. "I've been dying to test out the new confetti cannon!"

Blueblood tilted his head to the side. "Confetti… cannon?"

"Confetti cannon!"

The guardpony took a step towards Pinkie, his horn aglow, but Blueblood held him back. "Confetti cannon."

Pinkie Pie shoved the wagon in front of Prince Blueblood and pushed a red button on its side. The wagon-cover split open, and out popped a tiny oven, followed by several blaring trumpets, flags, and steam whistles. The machine started to play a sugary jingle, but before Pinkie could begin to sing along, Twilight nudged her side. "Pinkie, don't you remember what happened last time you tried to make friends this way?"

"Don't worry, Twilight! This time I remembered to put the confetti in the confetti cannon and the cake in the oven!"

Prince Blueblood took a step backwards. "What's this about cake?"

"Wait for it…"

When the music stopped playing, a large, fully frosted cake burst through the oven doors and smashed into Blueblood's face. Pinkie Pie giggled. "That's this about cake!"

At first, Blueblood didn't say or do anything; he just stood there, a look of horror and disgust frozen on his face. Then, he dry-heaved so hard his forelegs collapsed beneath him. "Bathroom!?"

"In the back, next to the reference manuals," Twilight said.

Blueblood shot through the library door like a bullet, the guardpony galloping behind him. Twilight gave Pinkie a furious glare.

"Okay, point taken. No more welcome song."

Pinkie Pie peered into the library and watched Blueblood kick down the bathroom door, giving it a look of intense distress. A voice came from beyond the bathroom's doorframe: "Who're you?"

Twilight gasped. "Spike!"

"How'd you get into—What're you—" Blueblood retched. "OH, GROSS! IT'S ALL OVER ME!"

Cranky was not having a good morning. It was never a good morning when he had to argue with Matilda. "No, I don't dislike Pinkie Pie," he said, scowling at her from across the kitchen table. "I can like somepony without wanting to be around them all the time, can't I?"

Matilda returned Cranky's scorn with an apologetic look. "I know you like her, Doodle, but I don't always know if you like being her friend."

"I do like being her friend," Cranky said. "I'm not avoiding her. I see her whenever the Cakes come over for dinner and I always try to be polite when she invites me to something, but that's not the issue here. The issue is that I don't like big parties."

Matilda gave Cranky a knowing smirk. "Is that so? Because I seem to recall a certain young jack who loved parties so much, even a party as boring as the Grand Galloping Gala could entertain him."

"Fine," Cranky said, his teeth gritted. "Yes, I used to like parties. But I don't anymore, so I'm not going to this one no matter how many times you ask, and that's the end of that."

"But it would mean so much to her, sweetie. She asks about you whenever she sees me, did you know that?" Matilda trotted around to Cranky's side of the table and rested her head on his shoulder, nuzzling him affectionately. "Besides, wouldn't it be nice to leave the house more often? Get away from all these old things of yours?"

"Well, you know I have a soft spot for old things." Matilda nipped at Cranky's ear. "I didn't mean it like that..."

With a low sigh, Cranky leaned into Matilda's touch and inhaled her scent as deeply as he could. She always smelled like either daffodils or vanilla—this morning it was daffodils. He preferred vanilla.

"Listen Matilda, I understand what you're trying to say. I know how good you think this will be for me, and I know that Pinkie Pie really wants me there. But I shouldn't have to go to some big, crowded open house just to prove I'm her friend, and she understands that as well as you do."

Matilda let out a soft chuckle. "Big? Crowded? This party is going to be thrown in a library, Doodle. It won't be nearly as exciting as you think."

"Well, I just don't know..."

Matilda touched Cranky's chin and gently guided his head out of her mane. She gave him a kiss as warm and sunny as the summer sky. "Please?"

"...Alright, fine. Just this once."

"I'm glad to hear it." Matilda gave Cranky another kiss, a more chaste one this time, and trotted across the kitchen. "The party starts in about twenty minutes, and if I were you, I'd stop by early. I'll see you soon, okay?" She winked at him, grabbed her saddlebags, and trotted out the door.

Cranky sat up in his chair and stretched, letting the sunlight shine onto him from the kitchen window. Maybe this morning wouldn't be so bad after all.

He stood up and carried his half-finished bowl of oatmeal over to the sink, humming a little tune to himself. Then, just as he turned on the tap to rinse the bowl out, he heard the unmistakable sound of a confetti cannon firing in the distance. His smile dissolved.

The din of the shower captured Twilight's attention. It was muffled by the bathroom door, but it mesmerized her all the same, making her feel as though a curtain had been drawn over the rest of the world. She was shrouded in an imaginary darkness; she could have slept the rest of the day away if she chose to. She stretched out in her chair and rubbed her eyes meditatively.

"Twilight? You there?"

She pulled her hooves out of her face. Rainbow Dash was eyeing Twilight suspiciously, her mouth full of hay bacon. "Di'choo hear wha' I shaid?"

"Uh…" Twilight blinked a few times, trying to get the spots out of her eyes. "Sorry, I wasn't listening."

Rainbow Dash swallowed her food with a loud gulp. "I asked you if we really need to find those guides. I mean, Tartarus can't be that bad, right? Didn't you go there once?"

Twilight rolled her eyes. "Well, I didn't exactly go spelunking. I only went as far as the gates, and that was just so I could return Cerberus. You know who Cerberus is, right?" She reached over the table and snatched up a strip of bacon, rattling the plate. "Cerberus, the forty-foot-tall, three-headed guard dog? The one that went on a destructive, day-long rampage through Equestria? The one that's just barely scary enough to intimidate the hordes of evil monsters locked away in Tartarus?"

"The one that Fluttershy gave belly-rubs and that you lured back to Tartarus with a rubber ball?" Twilight shot Pinkie Pie a deadly glare. "What! I'm just trying to help you jog her memory."

Rainbow Dash shrugged her shoulders and grabbed another bacon strip, a few crumbs flecking onto the table. "I'm not saying Tartarus isn't dangerous, Twilight. It's just that we're all kinda used to danger by now. I mean, come on! We beat the changeling queen and Nightmare Moon! Not to mention Discord!"

Twilight rolled her eyes a second time. She swallowed her bacon before speaking. "We didn't beat the changeling queen. My brother did."

Rainbow Dash wasn't listening. She flew out of her chair and started to box the air with her hooves, pep-talking through the food in her mouth. "Shey're da baddesht ba' guysh Equestria'sh e'er faced, an' we shent 'em all ruh'ing scared! Compared to shem, Tartarush should be a ca'walk!"

Rarity scoffed at Rainbow Dash. "Did you truly read the letter, or did you just breeze through it? See, right here..." She pushed the letter into Rainbow's face and tapped the important part with her reading glasses. "The inside of Tartarus is so frightfully chaotic, it leaves the Elements of Harmony as powerless as any other gaudy set of jewellery. Even Discord couldn't do that, and he was chaos incarnate! Oh, and don't talk with food in your mouth. It's unseemly, and you're getting crumbs all over the table."

Rainbow Dash crossed her forelegs and fell back into her seat, her mouth now only one-third full of bacon. "Fine, be negative."

"Rainbow does kind of have a point, though," said Fluttershy. "I mean, I'm sure Princess Luna knows what's best, but I don't know if we have all the time we need to look for these guides. If we take too long to find them, the other alicorns might, um… you know… especially if Princess Celestia is already—"

"If we don't have time to waste on the guides," Twilight snapped, "then we certainly don't have time to waste talking about death. You're right, though, Fluttershy: Princess Luna does know best. Now, she said that we've already met every guide, even if we don't know who they are, so all we have to do is think—who do we know that doesn't easily learn from their mistakes?"

Nopony answered Twilight. They just glanced at each other uncomfortably, then looked up at her with sympathy in their eyes. Rarity touched Twilight's hoof. "Darling, we know how you like to take charge during a crisis. But it's perfectly alright if you feel—"

"Who do we know"—Twilight pulled her hoof away from Rarity's—"that doesn't easily learn from their mistakes?"

After a few more seconds of awkward silence, Rainbow Dash spoke. "What about Scootaloo and her friends? The last time I talked to her, she told me a story about how she tried to help Rarity's sister get a cutie mark in fire magic."

"Yes, I heard that story as well," said Rarity, shaking her head. "It took me hours to get the singe marks out of her fur. Nevertheless, it wouldn't be fair to consider them. They're only fillies, after all; everypony has trouble learning from their mistakes when they're young. Take Spike for example." She gave the bathroom door a frustrated look. "He's been in the shower for at least fifteen minutes now. If left unattended, he'll probably use up all the hot water in Ponyville again."

Pinkie Pie giggled smartly. "That's not Spike! He's taking a bath upstairs! Prince Blueblood's the one in the shower."

Rarity blinked. "Prince—Prince Blueblood!?" She threw her glasses on and skimmed the letter with a frantic eye. "Don't tell me he's the pony Princess Luna sent over!"

"Yes, he's the one," said Twilight. "He got here just before you guys did."

Rarity dropped the letter on the table and turned up her nose, forelegs crossed in a pout. "Well, that simply cannot be right."

Twilight grumbled under her breath. I knew this would be a problem. "Rarity, if you don't want to travel with Blueblood, you're out of luck. We're stuck with whomever—"

"Oh, I'm not complaining exactly," Rarity said. "It's just—well, he seems fairly capable of learning from his mistakes, is all. The last time I spoke to him, he was very apologetic about the Grand Galloping Gala fiasco. That's not to say I've completely forgiven him, of course, but nevertheless."

"Yeah, I remember you talking about that," said Rainbow Dash, her mouth finally empty. "Wasn't he the guy that invited you to the Wonderbolts derby?

"No, that was Fancypants." Rarity let out a dreamy sigh. "Prince Blueblood didn't take me anywhere. He just happened to preside over an airship-christening I attended."

Twilight cleared her throat. "Stay focused, everypony. We've ruled out foals; who else could the guides be?"

Again, nopony said anything for several seconds. Rainbow Dash let out a groan and fell against the table with a soft whump, wings splayed in frustration. "This is gonna take forever! Why couldn't Princess Luna just send letters to all the guides, telling them to find us? I mean, she must've sent something to Prince Blueblood, right?"

"Oh, no." Rarity's eyes grew wide. She leapt out of her seat and paced around the room, her face twisted up with worry. "Oh, that reminds me—Oh, no! This is going to be so terribly awkward!"

Fluttershy flitted to Rarity's side. "Rarity? Is something the matter?"

"Yes, something is the matter!" Rarity spun around, a manic look in her eye, and spoke in a deceptively quiet tone: "Upon my return from Canterlot earlier this year, I received a letter from Prince Blueblood asking me all sorts of questions. But I was so busy making replicas of Twilight's dress, I completely forgot to write him back! Do you realize what this means!?"

"Oh, I'm sure it isn't as—"

Before Fluttershy could finish her answer, Rarity grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her violently. "It means I ignored a letter written by the scion of a noble house! By word of this fact alone, he could thoroughly devestate my reputation among Canterolt's elite! How can I possibly—"

Rainbow Dash swooped over to Rarity and, with great effort, tore her away from Fluttershy. "C'mon, Rare. Is this really the best time for a prima donna spaz-attack?"

"Well, I… No. No, I suppose it isn't." Rarity let out a heavy sigh and turned towards the now thoroughly dizzied Fluttershy. "I'm sorry for taking my nerves out on you, dear. I hope you can forgive me?"

"S'okay, Rarity..."

Twilight pushed her head into her hooves with a loud groan. She was starting to see why she and her friends needed those guides so badly. "Okay, let's get back on track. Is there anypony we don't really get along with? That might be a good place to start."

"Well, Hoops and Dumbbell have a lot of potential in that department," Rainbow Dash said. "What do you think, 'Shy?"

"No, it couldn't be them." Fluttershy smiled softly, looking out the window with hopeful eyes. "They've been very nice to me lately. In fact, ever since we brought all that water up to Cloudsdale, not a single pony has made fun of me at all."

Rainbow glided back to her seat, kicked her legs up on the table, and leaned back in her chair. She had an uncharacteristic look of contemplation. "What about that minotaur guy you told me about? Has he been giving you any trouble?"

"Hey, that's right!" said Pinkie Pie. "The letter didn't say the guides had to be ponies! I bet he's one!"

"But Iron Will learned from his mistakes," Fluttershy replied. "He came back to see me a few days ago and asked if I could help revise his assertiveness seminars. They're a lot more positive, now."

"Darn! I was so sure." Pinkie Pie tapped her chin with her hoof, humming thoughtfully. "How about… Gilda the griffon? I know she's hard to get along with!"

Rainbow Dash bolted upright, kicking the table and scraping the floor with her chair.

Pinkie let out a nervous giggle. "I guess that's a 'yes,' huh?"

"Well, yeah," Rainbow said. "Come to think of it, Gilda really fits the bill. But if time's a factor, we're in trouble. I'm pretty sure she moved to New Leoquillia." She floated out of her seat and drifted towards the window, a sullen look in her eye. "I mean, I don't know a hundred percent. That's just the last thing I heard about her."

With a creak of her chair, Twilight stood up and walked over to Rainbow Dash. "Who told you that? Whoever they are, can you trust them? Because if you can't, there's no way—"

"They're trustworthy." Rainbow leaned against the windowsill and folded up her forelegs, sighing through her teeth. "About a week after Gilda made that scene at Pinkie's party, I flew over to her place in Griffustown—just to see if I could get her to apologize, y'know?" She dropped back into her seat and frowned. "But she wasn't there. All her flatmates said she'd packed her bags for New Leoquillia. They said she told them not to tell me..."

Pinkie Pie gave Rainbow a puzzled look. "I'm lost. What's New Leoquillia? Is there an Old Leoquillia?"

"Leoquillia is a kingdom ruled by griffons," said Twilight. "And New Leoquillia is a colony of theirs, situated on the southwestern border of the Frozen North. Leoquillia isn't an HN member-state, and neither is New Leoquillia, so unless one of us happens to have a diplomatic passport we might not be able to visit."

"Yeah," said Rainbow Dash, her wings spread expressively. "And on top of that, it's twice the size of Unicorn Range, and it's three weeks away on hoof."

"Oh my goodness." Fluttershy gave the floor a piteous look. "Prince Blueblood might have a passport for us to use, but simply getting there… We may not be able to find Gilda, even if she is a guide."

Twilight tapped her hooves against the table. "...Which is why, for now, we should concentrate on locating potential guides who are in Equestria, not some foreign country. So, who else is there? Any ideas? How about you, Rarity?" No response. "Rarity?" She turned to find Rarity stealing nervous glances at the bathroom door, her teeth gritted anxiously. "Rarity, there are more important things happening right now!"

Rarity blinked. She looked back at Twilight, putting on the most regretful look she could. "I'm sorry, Twilight, but I simply cannot focus on—"

"Well, try to focus! The fate of Equestria is at stake, and you can't get a grip long enough to—"

Twilight was interrupted by a knock at the door. An old, rusty voice came from outside: "Is anypony home? I thought this was supposed to be an open house."

"CRANKY!" With a happy squeal, Pinkie jumped out of her chair, skipped across the room, and flung the front door open. A wrinkled donkey with a sour visage stood on the walkway. He was immediately pulled into a hug. "Oh my gosh, I can't believe you actually came! Thank you so much!"

"Yeah," he choked, wrestling himself out of Pinkie Pie's grasp. "Great to see you too, kid."

Pinkie Pie backed up apologetically. "Whoops. Personal space. I forgot."

"Eh, don't sweat it." Cranky clung to the door frame, trying to catch his breath, and glanced around the library. "Huh. Seems pretty sparse for a Pinkie Pie party." His face lit up. "Is it cancelled?"

"Yes, it is," Twilight said. "Now, Mister Donkey, my friends and I have some very important things to discuss, so if you could—"

"Hold on!" Pinkie Pie tugged Cranky back inside, giving Twilight a clever look. "Do you think maybe Cranky could be…?"

Twilight shook her head. "No, Pinkie, I don't."

"But he spent decades looking for Matilda! Ponyville was literally the last place he looked when it was the closest place to Canterlot and the first place he should've tried!"

"Pinkie, that doesn't mean—Although…" Twilight studied Cranky intently.

There stood a jack who had spent the best years of his life searching tirelessly for someone he'd only known for one night. And didn't he meet her at the Grand Galloping Gala? Only the most important ponies in Equestria were invited to that event. What made him so special? And why would he give it all up just for Matilda?

Cranky glared back at Twilight. "Can I help you?"

"Maybe. I mean, yes, there is something you can help us with." Twilight tightened the ribbon in her hair. "That is, there's something you might be able to help us with."

"Okay, happy Library Day to you too."

Twilight bit her lip. Something told her she couldn't just hand him the letter and expect him to do whatever it asked. "Look, it's all really complicated. I'll explain everything as soon as my houseguest gets out of the shower. Just stay here until then."

"Yeah, hang out with us!" said Pinkie. "The party may be cancelled, but we've still got a ton of hay bacon!"

Cranky slunk into kitchen, plopped himself into a chair, and pulled a strip of bacon out of the pile. For several seconds, the only sound in the room was the smacking of Cranky's lips. Eventually, he spoke: "It's a little stuffy in here. Does somepony want to open a window or—" The top half of the door tore itself open with a bang! "… or something."

A spark popped off of Twilight's horn. "You're welcome."

"Yeah, thanks a bundle." Cranky grabbed another bacon strip. "Hey, aren't there supposed to be six of you guys?"

"Oh yeah." Rainbow Dash hopped out of her chair and sailed over to the open half of the door. "I was gonna say something—Shouldn't Applejack be here by now?"

Trixie was feeling very warm. The sun blazed down without a single cloud to block its light—a result of last night's rainfall. Her outfit certainly didn't help; she knew she wouldn't be able to get away with the same disguise she wore last night, so she took some extra precautions. They included a heavier wig, a fake cutie mark with thicker paste, a t-shirt, a scarf, some eyeliner, and a pair of sunglasses.

It all seemed like a good idea when she was in her caravan. When the fan was running.

Now, after what felt like hours walking down a shadeless dirt-road, Trixie found herself in a café she didn't know the name of, holding a drink she didn't remember ordering.

She took a moment to survey her surroundings in greater detail: there was a window right next to her, a ceiling-mounted fan up above, and a very concerned-looking cashier standing by the door. She peeked out the window for a few seconds, just to figure out where she was, and took a sip of the brown liquid in her cup.

Iced tea with lemon. Of course.

Trixie took another few sips and leaned back in her chair, trying to soak up as much cool air as possible. It wasn't enough to distract her from the reason why she was doing this.

For a script. I almost put myself through heat stroke for a script. And not just any script, either! I'm trying to get a script from a pony who held me in her home against my will, and I'm getting it so I can watch a play that's being performed in a language I don't speak. Trixie fell forward, dropping her head onto the table with a low groan. I don't even know how to get to the library from here...

Trixie knew she wasn't the smartest pony in Equestria, but she always thought she had some common sense. She wouldn't risk death by dehydration for the HCT—the Canterlot Royal Theatre, maybe, but not the HCT.

Maybe it's that unicorn. Maybe she did something to me.

She had to admit, there was something strangely magnetic about Twilight Sparkle. It wasn't that she liked her, of course, and it certainly wasn't that she felt attracted to her. There was something else: something very strange, something that almost felt like envy. That couldn't be it, though. It wasn't malicious enough to be envy.

Is now really the time to be thinking about this? I need to get out of here and get that script before I lose my mind!

Trixie pulled her head off the table, lifted her drink, and called out to the pony sitting at the cashier. "Excuse me. Did I pay for this?"

A loud honking noise came from outside the café, followed by several weird jangles and cranks. It was as though somepony had dropped a tuba and a drum-set into a washing machine. Trixie poked her head out the window, searching for the source of the noises.

She saw an orange mare with a cowpony hat and a furious look on her face bustling down the street, chased by two nearly identical stallions riding atop a large, metal carriage. The carriage was scratched and dented in several places and appeared to move without the aid of a drawer. The orange pony turned towards the stallions and screamed at them just loud enough for Trixie to hear over the racket: "For the last time, I ain't gonna buy that flippin' machine o' yours!"

It's one of the ponies that was talking to Twilight Sparkle after the ursa minor incident. Maybe she'll lead me right to her. Trixie hopped up from her seat and trotted out the door, iced tea floating by her side.

One of the stallions shouted at the cowpony. "Well, if you're not going to take us up on our offer, could you at least ask your extended family to stop blackballing us!?"

"I never told 'em to blackball ya in the first place and I ain't gonna tell 'em to stop neither! And ruinin' my morning ain't helpin' your case!" She turned away and broke into a lopsided gallop, yelling hoarsely at the twins without facing them. "I was gonna have a nice, relaxin' time with my friends. I was gonna bake some cupcakes, maybe read a book or two. Now, thanks to your contraption, I'm gonna have a headache and a ringin' in my ears for the rest o' the day!"

Baking cupcakes and reading books. Those sound like library-slash-kitchen-based activities to me. Trixie chugged the rest of her iced tea, threw a few bits at the cashier, and dashed after the orange mare.

One of the brothers stood up from his seat and leaned over the prow of the carriage. "Believe me, Miss Applejack: if we had the choice, we wouldn't be bothering you at all! But ever since our little cider-making contest, we haven't gotten a lick of business!"

"Not a lick!" The stallion's twin stood up as well, mimicking his brother's movements. "Is there a single town in Equestria where your family doesn't live!? As soon as we set up shop, an Apple or two rallies the whole farming community into a frenzy, and then the entire city's boycotting our product before you can say 'bankrupt!'"

"I don't care!" The orange pony's gallop turned into a full-tilt sprint. Trixie was having a hard time keeping up, but thankfully the library was starting to come into view.

"Applejack, we're presenting you with an opportunity you just can't ignore!" yelled the one with the mustache. "We're giving you full, unlimited access to the new and improved Super Speedy Cider Squeezy Six-Thousand-and-One!"

"It works just as quickly and efficiently as the previous model, and it's got a nifty post-production cider filter!"

"Right you are, brother o' mine!" The twins stood up on their hind legs and tipped their caps, slick grins on their faces. "And this beautiful machine can be all yours! All you need to do is agree to the profit split we discussed at your farm!"

"Seventy-five!"

"Twenty-five!"

The one without the mustache winked at Applejack. "And this time, you get the seventy-five!"

Applejack stopped. The carriage screeched to a halt behind her, nearly throwing the stallions off-balance. "Y'all want twenty-five percent o' my profits, do ya!?" she yelled, kicking off her saddlebags and glaring murderously at the twins.

The brothers glanced at each other, then back down at Applejack. "...Yes, that's the idea. Do you want us to explain it again?"

The mare tugged several apples out of her saddlebags, tossed them in the air, and bucked them straight into the mustachioed stallion's face. He tumbled backwards off of the prow, landing on his head with a loud thunk. "There you go! That's twenty-five percent o' what I got on me right now! Wanna sweeten the deal!?"

"Flam!" The stallion's brother leapt off the carriage, marched up to Applejack, and raised his hoof to smack her, but she shoved him away before he could. The brothers scrambled to their hooves and pushed each-other back onto the carriage.

"Don't tell me y'all are gettin' cold hooves!" Applejack hollered. "Keep talkin'! I was thinkin' 'bout givin' ya fifty percent!"

Trixie trotted past the ensuing fight, smiling to herself. The library was only a few steps away! She strode across the lawn, up the walkway, and raised her hoof to knock.

The door swung open. Trixie leapt sideways, narrowly avoiding a blow to the face, and scuttled around the side of the house. She peered around the corner, looking to see who opened the door.

It was Twilight Sparkle. She stomped across the lawn, grabbed thecowpony, and pulled her away from the pair of stallions. "Applejack, what in the world is going on out here?"

"I'll tell ya what's goin' on!" Applejack jabbed her hoof at the twins. "These two are tryin' to con me outta Sweet Apple Acres again!"

The non-mustachioed one, still inspecting the other stallion's head, sneered at Applejack. "My brother and I wanted nothing to do with that dilapidated field of manure you call a farm! But now, you can bet your flank that we're going to sue you for all you're worth!"

Applejack gave the brothers a heavy snarl. "I know y'all ain't gonna sue me for hittin' you with a couple o' apples."

"Why shouldn't we? You assaulted my brother and me, then threatened further violence upon our persons!"

"Well, maybe I should sue you for drivin' me too it!"

Twilight strode across the yard and cut between Applejack and the twins. "Nopony is going to sue anypony! Applejack you can deal with these two later. Right now, you need to—Hang on." She turned towards the brothers, her eyebrows piqued. "Were you two really trying to sell your services to Applejack again?"

"Well, not that it's any of your business"—the brothers scowled at Twilight—"but yes. We presented Applejack with an even better deal than the one we gave her during cider season, and what does she do?" They both leapt off the carriage, barged past Twilight, and glared wolfishly at the cowpony. "She attacks us! She pelts us with the very product we asked for!"

"Okay, change of plans." Twilight shoved her way back into the middle of the fight. "All three of you are coming inside my house right now, whether you like it or not."

Trixie rolled her eyes. Oh, I see. That's how she solves all her problems.

"Unless she takes us up on our offer," said the stallions, "we're going nowhere but a courthouse!"

"I bet you had this planned from the beginnin'! Y'all were gonna goad me into losin' my temper and then file a lawsuit!"

"What? That's absurd! Do you really believe we'd put our faces at risk just to get some money? A good appearance is two-thirds of a sales pitch, as you are so clearly unaware."

"Well, your brains are pretty banged up. I figured y'all wouldn't mind puttin' the other parts o' your heads in danger."

"You think we're brain damaged? Oh, that is rich!"

Twilight looked ready to kill Applejack and the twins. Every time somepony spoke, she turned around and opened her mouth to scream them down, but before she got the chance, another pony would say something, forcing her to spin around to face them over and over until—

"SILENCE!"

Trixie staggered back against the side of the house, clutching her ears in pain. She looked towards the shout and found a white stallion with a sopping-wet mane perched indignantly on the walkway. "When a Spirit of Harmony tells you to do something, YOU DO IT! NOW GET INSIDE THIS INSTANT!"

The four ponies glanced at each other, then scurried across the lawn and into the library.

Twilight Sparkle is a Spirit of Harmony. Not possible. Trixie crept around the side of the house to find the top half of Twilight's Dutch doorway open. She cast an invisibility spell, steadily weaving a barrier of magic that would take all the light touching her and carry it to the opposite end of her body. only her pupils were uncovered—if she turned them invisible, she wouldn't be able to see. She double-checked the spell, pulled herself up over the door's bottom half, and looked about the room.

A small crowd was gathered around the kitchen table. The stallion from before sat at the head, Twilight Sparkle beside him. They both had grim looks on their faces, though Twilight seemed far worse for wear: her coat made her look like she had been dragged through a field of briar bushes and steel wool, and her mane was somehow clumpy and frizzy at the same time. It was as if somepony uprooted a black bramble patch and bound it to her head with a ribbon. Her eyes were the worst—they were dark and heavy, but she still looked wide awake. Every few seconds they darted towards the table and back, like Twilight was afraid something sitting on it would jump up and bite her.

Behind the unicorns stood a tall, intimidating stallion dressed in a midnight-black suit of armor. For a second, Trixie thought he might be a royal guard, but she decided that probably wasn't the case; his outfit looked like something you could buy at a costume shop on Nightmare Night.

There were five other ponies—and one donkey—sitting at the table, not including the twins. Those two were leaning against the kitchen counter instead, their forelegs crossed in an identical fashion.

"I am very sorry to have yelled at you, Miss Applejack," the wet stallion said, bowing curtly before the blonde-haired cowpony. "Had I recognized you, I would never have—"

Applejack gave the white stallion a halting look. "Don't think on it, Prince Blueblood. Let's just skip all them royal formalities for now; I wanna know what's goin' on."

"Took the words right out of my mouth," said a donkey sitting at the other end of the table. "Is somebody finally gonna tell me why I need to be here?"

Prince Blueblood pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, dabbed at his forehead, and took a long, deep breath through his nostrils. "Well, I would hardly consider an apology to be a 'royal formality...' but, alright. I suppose I'll cut to the chase: the alicorns of Canterlot have fallen deathly ill."

Trixie gasped. Well, I'm definitely not supposed to be hearing this. If they catch me listening in, I could get in serious trouble... Maybe I should turn back?

The cowpony removed her hat and held it up to her heart. "Oh, that's just terrible! Twilight, do you know how Princess Cadance is doin'?"

"No."

"Aw, I'm sorry, sugarcube," Applejack said, leaning across the table to rest a hoof on Twilight's shoulder. "It must feel pretty awful, gettin' that kinda news so soon after—"

Twilight shrugged off Applejack's hoof. "We can worry about that sort of thing later. Now, the disease does have a cure. Unfortunately, it's been sealed away in Tartarus, so my friends and I won't be able to—"

"Hold on a second, Miss." The mustachioed brother cocked an eyebrow at Twilight and leaned forward, revealing the counter space behind him. There sat an empty teapot, a sugar bowl, and a small script. It was exactly where Twilight had left it the night before.

Well, if it's right there I might as well go for it.

Trixie focused her levitative grasp on the script and gave it a single tentative nudge. The armored stallion's head shot towards the kitchen counter. She quickly dropped the book and retreated behind the bottom door. I guess he could be a guard after all. Maybe I should just turn the script invisible? She shook her head. No, I might accidentally hit somepony with it. Besides, I don't know how to conceal the levitation-spell itself; if I tried just moving it through the air, everypony'd see a big, purple light shining all over the place. I guess I'll have to go in and get it myself.

Trixie constructed a sound-proof bubble of magic around the doorway, crouched down, and vaulted over the door as high as she could, landing inside the library with a heavy thud. Nopony seemed to have heard anything, though the guard looked a little antsy. He shouldn't be able to hear me. But just in case... She shifted the bubble of inaudibility into pony-sized charm and began a slow, careful crawl to the kitchen counter

The mustached stallion leaned against the table, his head tilted in condescending perplexity. "Just how do you know all of this? Don't tell me you and your friends really are the Spirits of Harmony."

"We're the Spirits of Harmony, alright," said Applejack , "and I happen to be the Spirit of Honesty. So when I say that y'all are a pair o' no-good, weaselly li'l snakes in the grass, you can be sure I'm tellin' the truth."

"Applejack?" A blue pegasus pony sitting near the end of the table—another familiar face—ran a hoof through her mane uncomfortably. "It's not that I don't like you making fun of Flim and Flam, but… Priority check?"

"Sorry, Rainbow." Applejack turned back towards Twilight. "Go on, sugarcube. What's all this about a cure?"

Blueblood cleared his throat. "As Miss Sparkle was saying, the cure—a panacea, actually—is locked deep within Tartarus. So deep, in fact, that the Spirits of Harmony will be unable to procure the panacea on their own. You see, the chaos found at such depths is highly corruptive: it will tug at the souls of the Spirits of Harmony and nullify the Elements altogether."

The jack sitting at the other end of the table massaged his brow. "Please tell me this isn't the part where I come in."

"I'm afraid it is, Mister Donkey."

Trixie crept into the kitchen as slow as she could, her eyes trained constantly on the guard. Everything about him was unnatural; from the bristling of his fur to the eerie, yellow glow in his eyes, every part of his body marked him as something wholly alien. She wondered if he could smell her.

"There are individuals who have something of a... tolerance, for lack of a better word, to chaos," said Blueblood. "Where the Spirits fold in agony, these beings are at their strongest. I am one such pony"—he pointed to Flim, Flam, and the donkey in turn—"as are the three of you."

"There's probably another one in New Leoquillia," the blue pegasus said, hovering from her seat. "We'll need to go there before we head for Tartarus, so everypony should—"

"Stop right there." The donkey leaned over the table, his eyes narrowing petulantly. "You know how crazy all this sounds, right?"

The white stallion gave his forehead another few dabs with the handkerchief. "I know this must be very hard to believe, but—"

"No, you don't know. You're asking me to go to Tartarus, and as if that weren't enough, you want me to get there by way of griffon country." The old donkey fell back into his seat, forelegs crossed indignantly. "I don't care if the alicorns are sick. I'm not going."

Trixie bit her lip in anticipation. She was right by the head of the table, a few feet from the countertop and a few inches from the guardpony. He seemed even more agitated than he did a second ago—nostrils flaring, eyes shifting frantically about the room. If Trixie messed up now—tripped, fumbled the spell, whatever—he would catch her. And what then? Would she get arrested for listening in on such an important conversation? Would they wipe her memory? Would they take away her mind!?

Panic swept through Trixie's body: cold sweat, gasping breaths, a pulse that ran as fast and hard as the beat of a snare drum. She could feel herself shrinking into her brain, losing her handle on—No! She stopped. With a sweeping motion of her foreleg, she took several long, hard breaths. Don't freak out. Do not freak out. You've made it this far already, you can't turn back now.

Yes, that was right. She couldn't turn back. That script was more than worth the trouble, it had to be; she wouldn't have come this far if it wasn't. After taking one last breath, Trixie closed her eyes, double-checked her soundproofing spell, and stepped forward.

The guard didn't notice.

Trixie let out a quiet sigh of relief. There, see? You'll be fine. Now feeling a little more confident, she straightened herself up and took a few more steps past the guard. He was barely an inch away, close enough for her to hear the armor bumping against his skin and see the bristling of each individual hair. It was scary, but... No. He won't notice me.

She held her breath just in case and took one more tentative step.

The guard's tail lashed out. Trixie ducked, missing it by fractions of a centimeter, and skittered against the counter drawers. She felt sick—sweating, panting, heart thumping like a piston. But the hardest part was over. She was almost there.

Blueblood stuffed his handkerchief back into his breast-pocket before he continued, no longer looking at the old donkey. "The journey is not as insurmountable as it seems. I have a Leoquillian diplomatic passport, and I can extend my status to anypony traveling with me."

"So they'll let us in," said the jack. "Well, that's great. Now all you guys have to do is figure out how to get there in the first place."

A pink filly sitting next to the jack raised her hoof. "Oh! Oh! I know! You went all the way around Equestria and back, so you're super good at reading maps and stuff! And Flim and Flam have a big carriage that can drive itself, so we'll get there lickety-split!"

One of the brothers let out an incredulous chuckle, waving his foreleg in protest. "Uh, no. I'm not about to turn the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy Six-Thousand-and-One into a trolley-carriage for a bunch of ponies that hate me."

"The feeling's mutual, Flim! Besides, how can you tell whether or not we really are these special, chaos-proofed ponies, anyway?"

The white stallion started to sweat again. "There are... signs."

"Signs?" The jack snorted. "Like what?"

The pink pony's hoof shot back into the air. "Signs like how you guys never learn from—"

A white unicorn mare shoved her hoof into the pony's mouth. She blanched, looked around the room, and let out an awkward chuckle. "Well, er... You're all here, aren't you? Isn't that a sign in and of itself?"

The prince nodded his head. "You are correct, Miss Rarity."

"I am?"

"It wasn't mentioned in the letter, but yes. The fact that you are all here is something of a sign."

Having caught her breath, Trixie pulled herself onto the kitchen counter and reached for the script. She couldn't quite get it.

You're kidding me! It's right there!

The script tantalized her, taunted her, laughed at her efforts. She let out a determined growl and stretched her foreleg harder still. Again, she couldn't reach it.

"Now, I'm fairly certain none of you are here because you want to be," said Blueblood.

The brothers rolled their eyes. "You got that right!"

Trixie just wasn't close enough; no matter how much she stretched her foreleg, she couldn't get her hoof on the script. She stood on the tips of her hooves, kicked up, and reached as far as she could. Oh, for—This is impossible. I'm going crazy, aren't I?

"Yes, I think it's safe to say that none of you came here because you thought it would be a grand old time." Prince Blueblood gave Rarity a keen look. "You came because you felt drawn to a Spirit of Harmony."

Trixie kicked herself farther up the counter and grabbed at the script, only to miss again. Ugh! So close! If only those dumb stallions weren't in the way!

"Perhaps you felt they owed you something."

Now Trixie really could hear the script laughing at her. It was barely an inch out of her grasp.

"Perhaps they were a means to an end."

Trixie crouched down, gritted her teeth, and leapt as far as she could for one final, desperate grab.

"Perhaps you simply felt magnetized."

Got it! Trixie turned the script invisible and dragged it off the countertop, smiling with pride. Once she was sure that all of her spells were still in check, she turned around to—

She froze. The guard's face was inches from her own.

"Found you."

Trixie slammed against the wall with a deafening whack. She shook her head, then pulled hard against the tide of the guard's magic. He kept her pinned. On instinct, she summoned a counter-spell to break the force that bound her, but just as the energies took shape, a chill ran through her horn. The chill turned into a icy wave that washed away her magic, rending her counter-spell, tearing off her invisibility glamour like a wet bandage. She went limp from the pain. The chills were so intense, she shut her eyes involuntarily.

"Trixie!?"

No! Trixie tried to open her eyes. As soon as she did, the sweat from her brow poured into them, blinding her. She heard the sound of chair legs scraping the floor, lots of hoofsteps and chattering. Somepony—the prince—started to yell, but he was interrupted by something Twilight said.

Eventually the clamor settled. When it did, Trixie could only hear the sound of beating wings. Soft wind blew against her face, brushing away the sweat and returning her vision. She opened her eyes. All she could see was the face of the blue pegasus.

Trixie recognized her, now. The pegasus's name was Rainbow Dash, and her special talent was stunt-flying or something to that effect. Trixie remembered wrapping her up in solidified light and spinning her around untill she got sick in front of the audience. It must have been humiliating.

"Trixie," Rainbow growled, "you better have a really good reason for sneaking in here. Cause if you don't, I'm gonna—"

"It's alright, Rainbow Dash. I'll handle this." That was Twilight's voice.

"But—"

"I said I'll handle this."

Rainbow Dash reluctantly backed away, giving Trixie a view of the whole room. Most of the ponies therein were shooting her venomous looks; the others stared at her in astonishment. The guard wore a proud smirk.

And then there was Twilight. She gave Trixie a placid look with just a hint of sympathy, the kind of look you gave to an insect on a microscope slide. "How much did you hear?" she asked.

"A lot, probably. When I was on my way over, I saw somepony wearin' that exact outfit. I reckon she followed me here."

Twilight narrowed her eyes. "Is this true?"

Trixie tried to say 'yes,' but the word stuck in her throat. She gave Twilight a weak nod instead.

"Then you know what I'm about to tell you?"

Trixie's heart sank. She was one of those guides they were talking about. She was going to Tartarus.

All she wanted to do was check out her script. She wanted to head back to her caravan and spend the rest of the day practicing magic tricks. She wanted to walk down to Hoofington after lunch, maybe get something cool to drink, and see The Stranger performed at the HCT tomorrow. She wanted to put everything that had anything to do with Ponyville or the ursa minor or Twilight Sparkle behind her and just get on with her life.

And she was going to Tartarus.

Trixie gave Twilight another feeble nod. She felt like throwing up.

The rest of the meeting went by pretty quickly. Everypony except Cranky figured out what they were going to do to prepare for the trip with ease, so they decided his role for him: he was to be the navigator, whether he liked it or not. Cranky tried to talk his way out of it, of course, but those ponies had a counterpoint to every complaint he raised.

You're too old to make it all the way to New Leoquillia? We've got an automobile!

You don't want to worry Matilda? It's okay! She'll understand!

You have trouble breathing at high altitudes? Twilight's got a spell for that!

Don't speak a word of Russo-Scythian? Prince Blueblood's got a spell for that!

You don't think you'll be helpful in the long run? You think you're only going to slow everypony down? You think that because there are already six other guides out there, each of whom are probably younger, stronger, and generally better qualified to do this job than you are, that taking you along is just going to be a big, pointless chore, and that it would be better for everyone if we just left you behind?

Too bad! Every little bit counts, so suck it up!

"Excuse me, Mister Cranky?"

Cranky pulled himself out of his gloom and looked towards the voice. He found Flam leaning through the kitchen window, a few sheets of notepaper floating at his side. "You said it was eight-hundred miles to New Leoquillia, right?"

"Hang on." Cranky grabbed his ruler and measured the distance on the atlas. Four inches, so... "Yeah, about eight-hundred."

"Thanks!" Flam tipped his cap and trotted back to his machine.

Cranky looked down at the atlas and let out a long, low grumble. Distance was the least of their problems.

New Leoquillia was spread out over a tremendous mountain range. Port towns and major cities were separated by entire canyons, and the highway system connecting them was a navigator's worst nightmare, full of confusing twists, hairpin turns, and high-altitude drop-offs. Thankfully, the roads themselves were fairly safe.

Yeah, 'cause when you visit a country that never signed the HN charter, safety's always gonna be your main concern. Still, I should check for fog.

Cranky tore the political map out of the atlas, flipped to the weather section, and grabbed a pencil-compass and a red marker. He used them to highlight every route that the climate map listed as being in an area of high relative humidity, then did the same in yellow for all the spots whose temperatures fell between forty and fifty degrees that time of year. Any overlap meant dense fog, and low visibility was dangerous in the mountains, especially with such a poorly designed highway system.

After a few seconds of scribbling, Cranky leaned back in his chair and looked over his handiwork. Most of the routes were now orange. When he compared the road map to the topographical atlas, he found not a single trail below six-thousand feet that wasn't completely non-navigable without wings, an airship, or a well-organized flock of pegasi.

No surprise there. Why build safe roads when everybody in your country can fly?

Cranky was getting nowhere; a bit of procrastination was in order. He pulled himself out of his chair with a groan, turned away from the atlas, and walked over to the window to see what the twins were up to. Flam was gutting out the inside of the carriage with a wrench and a pair of pliers, while Flim diligently sorted the scraps into a set of neat, organized piles.

They were a well-oiled machine, those two—though a more fitting simile would have been a well-paid machine. Had Prince Blueblood not offered them that hefty sum after the meeting, they wouldn't be working at all. But he had, so they were, and they were doing it so well, they could probably make their contraption do anything they wanted it to. In fact...

Cranky called out to them: "I don't suppose you two could turn that thing into a zeppelin?"

One of the brothers waved back without looking up from his work. "Oh, sure. We can do that. Just give us an hour."

Yeah, right. Those two make good on that promise, and I'll chew my own ears off.

With a roll of his eyes, Cranky pulled his head back inside and slunk out of the kitchen, trying as hard as he could to ignore the atlas on the table. Maybe there was something neat in the library proper; the way Pinkie Pie always described her friends, you'd think Golden Oaks would be filled with all sorts of fantastical things.

Turns out, it wasn't. It was a library. It had books. They weren't even very interesting books, and there were no comfortable places to sit and read them. Cranky thought it was actually pretty sub-par, as far as libraries went. But just as he was turning around to re-enter the kitchen and resign himself to his navigational duties, he saw something: one of the books pulled itself out of its shelf. He watched with an open jaw as it drifted lazily across the room, eventually settling in a small closet beneath the staircase. A faint light came from just beyond the doorway, beckoning him. He followed.

It was that blue unicorn mare. She was just lounging there in the dark, reading a script by the light of her horn. She pulled the book out of the air like it was a ripe fruit and flipped through the first few pages, smiling with childlike curiosity.

During the meeting, Cranky thought the mare looked pathetic, the way she wordlessly took a seat at the kitchen table, head hanging on her shoulders. The girl was different now, though. She was free.

If Cranky was more like Matilda, he might start a conversation with the mare. He would say hi, maybe get to know her, and then they'd help each other kill time. It was a pleasant thought.

"Hey, uh..." At the sound of Cranky's voice, the mare stood up and poked her head out of the closet, frowning in annoyance. Cranky looked away. "It's Trixie, right?"

"Yes? What is it?"

Cranky kicked himself inwardly. He should've thought of what he wanted to talk about before he tried to start a conversation. After several seconds of desperate thinking, he came up with something: "What do you make of the whole 'tolerance to chaos' thing? Because if you ask me, it sounds like a bunch of malarkey."

"The Great and Powerful Trixie has many magical blessings. The power to withstand chaos is just one drop in a very large, gilded bucket."

"Just a drop in the bucket, eh?" Cranky laughed. The girls were right; she's got bragging down to an art. "Y'know, I've had my fair share of chaos over the years."

"Is that so?" Trixie returned to her script, flipping the page disinterestedly. "You seem like you prefer the quiet life."

"Oh, I do, believe me. If I had the choice, I'd just stay at home with Matilda all day."

"Matilda?"

Shoot. Cranky let out a long sigh, meandered back into the kitchen, and took a seat facing the window. "Matilda's—She's someone special. Someone I don't want leave behind." He pushed his face into his hooves with a tired groan. "Someone I can't wait to explain this to..."

Trixie walked out of the closet, her script tucked under her foreleg, and leaned against the doorframe. She chewed her lip for several seconds, not saying a word. Then, her face lit up.

"What if Trixie told you that seeing this 'Matilda' of yours could be as easy as looking into a mirror?"

Cranky peered over his shoulder, giving Trixie a confused look. "I'm not sure I follow."

"Oh, it's a clever little charm! The Great and Powerful Trixie came up with it herself, you know. I doubt you'll find it in any spellbook." She sauntered across the room and took a seat opposite Cranky, a confident smile hanging on her face. "All it takes is a pair of mirrors. Just swap their reflections, bind sound to light, and voila! You'll be able to talk to your beloved, no matter how far from her you venture."

Cranky's frown slowly turned into a wide smile. "You can really do that?"

"Just find two mirrors of similar size and shape. That's all Trixie needs," she said, inspecting her hoof nonchalantly. "Then, you'll be able to talk to her whenever or wherever your heart desires. The Great and Powerful Trixie guarantees it."

"That's wonderful. Thank you."

"You're absolutely welcome." Trixie reclined proudly in her chair, then pulled her script out from under her foreleg and began to read.

Curious, Cranky leaned across the kitchen table and examined the cover. There was a picture of a stallion with sullen eyes and a blank flank, as well as a bit of text:

The Stranger, by Albert Chameau

Adapted for the stage by Berdine Bardot

Translated by Rosetta of Trottingham

"Is that any good?"

Trixie peered up at Cranky. "Oh, this? It's based on a very interesting book. You might like it."

Cranky picked up the atlas, tossed it onto the kitchen counter, and gave Trixie a wide grin. "Do you know if there are any more copies in here?"

It had only been a few minutes, and Applejack was already starting to regret her offer to escort Blueblood to the bank.

"I don't know how you can possibly stand to work on a farm in these conditions," he said, a childish whine permeating his voice. "Honestly, I don't think I've ever been so hot in my entire life! It's simply maddening!"

Applejack tilted her hat, hoping to hide the annoyance on her face. "Bank's just a couple blocks away, Prince Blueblood. I think you're gonna make it."

Assumin' you don't talk yourself into heat stroke, ya big wuss.

When Prince Blueblood offered to pay Flim and Flam for their services, Applejack was ecstatic. She figured he was a swell guy after all; that under all his pomp and pretension, there was a great, big heart of gold. In that state of mind, she decided to take him to the bank—maybe they'd get to talking, turn over a new leaf on the way there. Besides, she would be traveling with him for the next few days. Might as well get to know him a little better, right?

But all Blueblood did was complain about the weather! There was no pleasant conversation to be had, just humidity this and sun exposure that. It made Applejack wonder how she could have ever thought it would be easy to get along with him.

"And the air! It's so stagnant!" Blueblood tugged a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and fanned himself vigorously. "Why, it's as if Ponyville's weather team had never heard of a cool breeze!"

"Y'know, the pegasi 'round these parts actually work pretty hard. I think they did a good job, considerin' the storm last night."

Blueblood didn't seem to have heard her. He looked towards the sky and shielded his eyes with the handkerchief, giving the sun a foul grimace. "I tell you, I almost find it hard to believe."

"What's that, Prince Blueblood?" Applejack asked, bracing herself for another gripe.

"Well, I'm not quite sure. To know that the sun can shine so brightly, even when Princess Celestia lies on her deathbed. It's a strange feeling, is it not?"

Applejack frowned. She didn't expect to hear that.

No matter, though; Blueblood didn't pay her discomfort any attention. "When I was just a little colt, I thought that if Princess Celestia ever died, the sun would stop moving, and daytime would last forever." He looked at the ground and laughed under his breath. "Of course, back then I knew naught of how Celestial magic worked."

Applejack pushed back her hat and peered confusedly at the edge of the sun How did Celestial magic work?

She'd always known that heavenly bodies moved more predictably in Equestria than in other parts of the world. In most places, the sun rose and set at very different times each season. The Lunar cycle wasn't properly synchronized with the months of the year, and stars didn't always fit right into their constellations. Applejack had even heard that the sun and the moon could both be in the sky at the same time.

With Celestia and Luna gone, would Equestria become like those other places? Would the sun set that much earlier during the winter and that much later in the summer? Would the harvest moon happen on a different day every year? Would some years need to be longer than others to account for all those differences? Sure would be a pain for farmers...

"You must'a had a pretty morbid childhood to be thinkin' 'bout what would happen if a princess died," Applejack said, letting out an awkward chuckle.

Blueblood said nothing back.

Applejack chewed the inside of her lip. She figured it was a good idea to change the subject. "So, uh... I take it you read that letter Princess Luna sent to Twilight?"

Blueblood gave Applejack a stern look. "I did. And before you ask; yes, I can see why Princess Luna would think that I have difficulty learning from my mistakes."

Applejack wasn't surprised to hear that. According to Rarity, Blueblood deeply regretted his actions at the Gala, and would never have been so rude had he known who she and her friends were. On top of that, it was "very forgiving of him to pardon my not writing him back. He's more than made up for his rudeness at the Gala, if I do say so myself. And again, your majesty, I am truly sorry!" Still, one had to wonder why he was so rude in the first place.

"Do you think you have trouble learnin' from your mistakes?"

The question took Blueblood by surprise. He gave Applejack a curt stare, then turned up his nose noncommittally. "It depends what you would call a mistake, I suppose."

"And what sort of thing would you call a mistake?"

"I would very much like to know where you're going with this," Blueblood said, still holding his nose in the air.

"I'm goin' to the Grand Gallopin' Gala. Where else? I know you already explained yourself to Rarity, but I wanna hear it straight from the horse's mouth." Blueblood gave Applejack a chastening glare. "...Your majesty."

Blueblood pulled the handkerchief back out of his pocket and gave his forehead a few quick, gentle dabs. "Well, Miss Applejack, when I spat out your fritter and called it—What did I call it?"

Applejack glowered. "Common carnival fare?"

"Common carnival fare, that's right!" Blueblood said, smiling innocently. "When I spat out your apple fritter and called it 'common carnival fare,' I was being quite dishonest. I assure you, your fare is far from common."

Well, ain't that just the sincerest compliment you ever did hear?

"You know, you still haven't explained why you were bein' so mean to Rarity in the first place."

With a flip of his mane, Blueblood turned up his nose once more and gave Applejack an impatient leer. "Well, surely it isn't that difficult to understand. You see, a stallion of my good breeding draws quite a few female suitors. I can't deal with all of them, of course; I have time only for the best." Applejack thought she saw him grin for a split second. "And when I'm faced with a mare who isn't the best, I... put on a boorish air. Just to dissuade her, you see?"

"I see you'd sooner ruin some poor filly's whole evenin' than just tell 'em you ain't interested," Applejack said, looking Blueblood dead in the eye. "Or did you want me to see somethin' else?"

Blueblood chuckled contemptuously. "The Spirit of Honesty, indeed."

"Heh. Only one o' you political types would think bein' honest is a bad thing."

"Au contraire, Madame Applejack!" Blueblood cantered ahead of Applejack, giving her a pained look. "You act as if I take pleasure in my actions. Why, I would gladly turn down a plain or disinteresting mare straight away, if it weren't for..."

Applejack raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"...Allow me to demonstrate." Blueblood unfurled his handkerchief, then magically folded it into a paper crane. "In the aristocracy, birds of a feather flock together, and the birds I'm forced to put up with can be quite treacherous. Where one falls at my polite declination"—Blueblood tore the bird in two, then folded the halves into a pair of cranes—"another soon rises to take her place. But if I'm impolite in my rejection..." With a flash of his horn, Blueblood crumpled the birds up and stuffed them both back into his breast pocket.

"Hang on. You're tellin' me you were only a jerk to Rarity 'cause you didn't wanna deal with her friends?"

A pernicious smile flashed across Blueblood's lips. "Now you're getting it."

Applejack marched in front of Blueblood, stopping him. "Alright, Prince Passive-Aggressive. You really don't think you did anythin' wrong at the Gala?"

"I thought I made myself very clear," Blueblood replied, meeting Applejack's glare unintimidated. "Of course, if the message didn't sink in, I would be happy to give you another visual demonstration."

"You've demonstrated plenty. Bank's another block down. Find your own way back." Applejack shook her head, tilted her hat to the side, and stormed past Blueblood without looking back. She made it two blocks before she started to feel guilty.

It wasn't very mature of her to just walk out of an argument like that. It was downright petty, not to mention ungrateful. Blueblood had just done Applejack a huge favor by getting Flim and Flam off her back! How could she be so quick to forget that, but still have time to hold a grudge?

With a reluctant sigh, Applejack turned around to apologize, hoping Blueblood hadn't gotten too far ahead to catch up.

But he hadn't moved an inch. At first, Applejack thought he was just a little shell-shocked from being told off, but that wasn't it; he looked like he was talking to himself.

"Honestly, I should have known you were lurking behind me," he said, giving the imaginary pony a venomous sneer. "Well, what is it? What's so important that you had to follow me around until I was alone instead of merely asking for a private conversation like a normal pony?"

The black stallion of the Lunar Guard appeared before Blueblood, looking as creepy as ever. Was he following the two of us around through our whole conversation? She ducked behind a nearby building, far enough so they wouldn't see her, but close enough to hear them talk.

"You left out a lot of information during the meeting," the guard said, "and I was wondering if you could tell me why, your majesty."

Blueblood gave his guardsman a haughty look. "I only told them what they needed to know; my omissions aren't putting anypony danger. In fact, they'll be better off in the dark." He turned away from the guard and started towards the bank, the sneer still on his face.

"What about the keys?" the guardpony asked, trotting after Blueblood. "I'm pretty sure they have to know about the keys, don't they?"

"They don't," Blueblood snapped. "I'll tell them about the keys when the time comes. We will not cross this bridge until we reach it."

The guard cocked an eyebrow. "And the panacea?"

Blueblood turned to give the guard a condescending look. "You do know it isn't really a panacea?"

"Of course I know that. But what I don't know is why Princess Luna called it something that it isn't."

"Because that's how we're going to use it. Besides, if the others knew what was really waiting for them at the bottom of Tartarus..." Blueblood took a sharp breath. "Well, I still have a hard time believing it. Nothing good can come from telling them, believe me."

The guard bit his lip. "So, we don't say anything?"

"Not a word. Now, I know how well you tend to handle secrets"—Blueblood gave the guard another vicious sneer—"but right now, I expect you to keep your mouth shut. Understood?"

"Understood." With that, the guard vanished from sight, and Blueblood was free to walk away as if nothing had happened.

Applejack's blood boiled. Prince Blueblood was keeping secrets from the Spirits of Harmony, and he was doing it for no reason but for the sake of keeping them in the dark! I better tell the others about this. They gotta know. They gotta—

"Excuse me."

Applejack gasped. The guardpony was standing a foot away from her, a dark glare in his eyes. "I know you were listening in on my conversation with Prince Blueblood, Miss. Granted, I didn't figure out you were there until after we'd finished talking." He brought a hoof to his face and shook his head. "Knew I should've cast a muting spell. Stupid..."

Applejack let out a nervous breath. "I ain't gonna try to deny it. So, you gonna cast a spell on me, now? Make me forget about all the stuff I heard?"

"No. I'm not allowed to do anything like that without a direct order from Prince Blueblood, and I think that's an order he'll be reluctant to give. I can't exactly let you off scot-free, though." The guard took a step forward.

"Well, hold on now!" Applejack shoved the guardpony over to the other side of the alley, putting on a defensive air. "I ain't gonna let you bully me into lyin' to my friends. They're gonna know about this here clandes-tine meetin' o' yours whether you like it or not!"

With a clank of his armor, the guard marched back up to Applejack, his frown growing deeper still. "You're talking about classified information, Miss. Prince Blueblood has reasons for keeping secrets, and—with all due respect—those reasons are probably a lot better than yours. Now, I know can't stop you, but I strongly urge you to—"

"You're right!" Applejack yelled. "You can't stop me, and you shouldn't!"

The guard let out an angry snort. "Alright, fine. What are you going to tell them?"

"You mean it ain't obvious? I'm tellin' 'em everything!."

"No, I want you to be specific. What, exactly, are you going to say to the other Spirits of Harmony?" The guard inched a little closer to Applejack, mocking her with his eyes. "Are you going to tell them that Prince Blueblood knows more than he lets on? Or that the panacea isn't exactly what it's being made out to be? Or that there's more to this journey than just going to Tartarus? All those things are common sense, and none of them are very helpful to know."

"Well—Well, so what! Just 'cause it's common sense don't mean it ain't worth sayin'! Besides, tellin' 'em's the right thing to do."

The guard rolled his eyes. "Just because—and, again, no disrespect—just because it's the right thing to do doesn't mean it's the smart thing to do. Telling the other Spirits of Harmony what you heard is only going to lower morale. You won't be doing anything helpful."

"Well... you're only keepin' secrets 'cause Prince Blueblood's tellin' you to!

He gritted his teeth. "Does it matter?"

"I guess not, but—" Applejack looked away. She tried to think of a retort, but the words wouldn't come together; the guard's reasoning made too much sense."Alright, fine. I won't tell nopony what I heard. But only if they don't ask! And if this comes back to bite me in my hindquarters, don't expect me to do any more secret-keepin' on your behalf. Understood?"

"Understood. I'll be sure to tell Prince Blueblood about the talk we just had." After a few more seconds of distrustful glaring, the guard vanished.

With a heavy groan, Applejack collapsed against the side of the building and sighed through her teeth. Lying to her friends was going to be just as big a pain as it always was, but things could be worse. Lies of omission certainly weren't the hardest lies to tell, and it's not like she was hiding anything that her friends needed to know. After all, those bits about the panacea and the keys couldn't be that important, could they? Blueblood clearly didn't think so, and neither did Princess Luna, or she would've mentioned them in her letter.

Applejack held her hat against her heart. Good or bad, it would not be easy keeping this from her friends.

Twilight couldn't believe how quickly things had come together. New Leoquillia seemed so far off at first, but now, thanks to the guides, everything was falling into place. Cranky had navigational skills, Prince Blueblood had diplomatic immunity, Flim and Flam had an efficient means of transport. Even Trixie had something to contribute: with those magic mirrors of hers, everypony had a way to keep in touch with their loved ones during the trip. Just like that, the Spirits of Harmony had everything they needed to make the journey.

Twilight managed to organize a town meeting almost as quickly; a few minutes with mayor mare were all it took to set something up. Once that was taken care of, Twilight headed back to her treehouse, re-stocked the pantry for Spike, packed her bags, wrote her speech—though not without help from Prince Blueblood—and spent the rest of the afternoon studying Leoquillian culture. Before she knew it, it was time to deliver her address.

Now Twilight stood before the entire town, her speech hovering by her side in a small stack of papers. A nervous clamor filled the air, ringing through the audience like atonal bells, smothering the calm of the evening sun.

Twilight laid her speech before her, cleared her throat, and began:

"This morning, I received some very distressing news from Princess Luna: the alicorns of Equestria have all fallen fatally ill."

The crowd gasped, breaking into a fearful chatter. Twilight managed to pick a few words out of the din: words like "changelings" and "Discord."

"Thankfully, this disease has a cure," she continued, silencing the audience. "I and the other Spirits of Harmony will embark on a quest to find said cure. However, I did not call you here this evening to tell you that everything will be alright."

The ponies in the crowd gave each-other worried looks.

"You see, I have the utmost confidence that my friends and I will succeed in our endeavours. I want to tell you that we will cure the alicorns, because I truly believe that's what's going to happen. But for all the assurance I can give you, the fact remains: we might fail. We might not find this cure in time to save the alicorns. In fact, we might not find the cure at all."

A depressed hush fell over the crowd. Twilight took a deep breath—the hard part was coming up.

"I called you here this evening to tell you that this doesn't matter. That even if our efforts are all for naught, even if the alicorns succumb to their illness, even if Princess Celestia herself d—"

Twilight stopped. She didn't remember writing that. The sentence was supposed to end after "illness;" she didn't write anything about Princess Celestia. It must have been one of those last-minute changes Blueblood threw in.

Whatever. Just say it anyway.

"Even if Princess Celestia herself d—"

Twilight stammered. The word just stuck to the back of her throat like a thick paste.

"Even if Princess Celestia d—"

Again, she faltered. Twilight fumbled nervously with the ends of her hair-tie, looking out into the audience. Over a hundred ponies stared back at her. Was the crowd that big when she began the speech?

No, stop that. Calm down.

She screwed her eyes shut and massaged her temples, trying to clear out her thoughts. They're just words on a page. Say it.

"Even if Princess Celestia is—"

She stuttered again, louder this time. A few of the ponies in the audience turned away and shook their heads, embarrassed for her.

Say it.

"Even if Princess Celestia—"

That time, Twilight literally choked on her words. She felt awful: like she was going to die, like her soul was pushing its way out of the sweaty, nauseous wreck she was turning into.

Enough. Just say it.

"Even if Princess Celestia—"

Say it!

"Even if—"

Say it!

"Princess Celestia... Oh..."

A loud, wracking sob escaped Twilight's throat. She collapsed, heaving against the podium, her eyes stinging with tears. The crowd was dead silent. She couldn't see their faces, but she knew they were looking at her. Everything was spinning. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think.

She wept.

She braced herself on the podium, sank into her hooves, and just wept. The words on the page echoed through her mind: Even if Princess Celestia herself dies.

But Princess Celestia couldn't die! She was immortal, beyond death! She had been alive for who knows how long! And now, thanks to some stupid disease, she was just gone? It wasn't fair! That wasn't how things worked!

Twilight felt a light tap on her shoulder. She turned around, wiping the tears from her eyes, and saw her friends looking at her with troubled smiles. It was as if they were trying to sympathize with her; like they felt as miserable as she did, but were just better at hiding it. They gently pulled her away from the podium, guiding her towards the side of the stage, whispering little words of comfort in her ear. Twilight just stared at the floor and allowed herself to be led like a foal.

Prince Blueblood's voice flooded town square: "Even if Princess Celestia herself dies, this will not be the end of Equestria. Nothing will ever be the end Equestria."

Twilight looked towards the front of the stage and found Blueblood standing there, reciting her speech from where she left off. Might as well. He basically wrote it.

"For have we not overcome challenges far greater than this?" Blueblood rapped the podium with his hooves. "Have we not faced terrors beyond our most horrific nightmares and done so with courage in our eyes and smiles on our faces?"

The crowd's silence turned into a confused buzz.

"Nearly two years ago, Nightmare Moon escaped from her Lunar prison and tried to shroud us in everlasting night. Had she succeeded, she would have destroyed our crops, usurped our kingdom, and ruled eternally as a tyrant queen. Now, I ask you: did we endure?"

Blueblood outstretched his forelegs expectantly. Most of the ponies in the crowd nodded their heads, a few of them replying, "Yes."

"Not one year leader, the trickster spirit, Discord, escaped from his prison. He flooded the land with chaos and tortured us, tearing at our souls, poisoning our hearts with disorder and fear. I ask you again: did we endure?"

A great deal of ponies shouted, "Yes!"

"Canterlot was invaded by an army of changelings just a few days ago! Their queen wished to enslave us all; to turn us into living troughs from which her subjects could feed. Do you know why she and her swarm found us so appetizing?"

The audience leaned forward, their eyes wide.

"She wished to gain power from the very thing that makes us so strong: our love. Our harmony. The kindness we show each other in times of need. The courage we inspire in each-other's hearts. The bonds of friendship that make us proud to be Equestrians. One last time, I ask you: did we endure?"

"Yes!" cheered the crowd.

"Yes, we did!" Blueblood pounded his hoof against the podium. "Now we find ourselves faced with a new threat: a land without our leaders. A land without the guidance of the alicorns. A land where pony-kind will be forced to rule itself alone. One last time, I ask you all: can we endure?"

"Yes!"

"Can we survive?"

"Yes!"

"Can we face this brave, new world with courage in our eyes and smiles on our faces?"

"YES!"

Twilight watched the crowd break into applause, cheering as loud as they could. Hope sang through town square in bright, shining waves, blossoming forth like primrose beneath the sunset.

Something clicked in Twilight's head: everything that happened that day lead up to this moment. The bright and sunny weather, Pinkie Pie getting attacked by the guardpony, Rarity flipping out over Blueblood's letter, Applejack arguing with Flim and Flam, Trixie showing up in that stupid outfit. Everything blended together like cheap paint, coating her brain in a cruel irony.

All of those happy things. All of those funny, silly, happy things. They were the kind of things that made Twilight laugh. The kind of things that made her glad to be who she was.

The kind of things I'd want to write about to Princess Celestia.

Blueblood stepped down from the podium and took a long, deep bow. The crowd cheered even louder, though Twilight could only but roll her eyes.

It was a brave, new world indeed.

Author's Note

To learn more about the nature of antimagic, be sure to read Section XII, Subsection I of Gloaming Glimmer's Sorcerological Compendium.

Choice and Causality—Part I

CHOICE AND CAUSALITY—PART I

Dragons. Big, scary, nasty, evil dragons. Dragons all around her, with their sharp claws and their predatory eyes and their rotten breath and their teeth. Their teeth. Teeth that bite. Teeth that rip and gnash and shine with hungry spit. Teeth that menace her, coming closer to her muzzle, making her wince and cry out with every fine snap!

"Please, I'm sorry! I don't want to—"

Snap!

"AH—I'm sorry! I'll do anything, just please don't—"

Snap!

"No! Anything! Anything, please—"

Snap!

"Please! No, PLEA—"

SNAP!

He tore away from the diamond and clutched at his heart. It thumped painfully against his chest. Fear filled his body, flooding his lungs like ice-water, ripping through his mind like a hot swarm of locusts. He took several slow, shaky breaths. The buzzing in his skull quelled, though his lungs still spasmed and his heart still raced. He looked at the diamond hanging before him.

It was massive.

Without a doubt, it was the largest diamond he'd seen so far. The sharpest too, so jagged it could draw blood at the gentlest touch. Everything about it was rare and dangerous, but the thing that made this diamond truly unique had nothing to do with its size or shape. This diamond had an especially frightening quality, one that few others possessed:

A twin.

Like cancerous lungs, the diamonds hung opposite one-another, matching each-other in every visible way. The memories inside of the diamonds were the same too; from the shrillness of the filly's cry to the last sharp of those bloody teeth, nothing was different.

Nothing but the emotions.

The diamond on the right held fear, plain as day. It was a deep, primal fear, a fear that should accompany any memory as horrifying as the one he'd just watched. But the diamond on the left—the one he'd touched first—had other contents. There was resentment, anger, a doubtful pinch, waves of sick compulsion, and the tiniest hint of guilt. And something else.

If he squinted his eyes and leaned as close to the diamond as possible, he could see a flaw in its crystalline form: one black spot. It was as small as a grain of salt, but even so... he felt something. A presence. It was strong and old and deep, more so than any emotion. He could hear it whisper:

"Touch me," it said. "Touch me so I can hurt you. Touch me so I can show you what I'm made of. I built the oldest part of your mind, the part you never want to look at but always want to use. I built my sister, too; she dragged herself out of the womb, kicking and screaming, floundering under my light.

"I'm that sweet taste that hangs on your lips whenever you lie. I'm what makes the strong hate the weak and the young resent the old. I'm the green in your eyes, the blue in your core, the red on the edge of the knife in your back that you can't seem to reach on your own. I am everything you have ever hated to love.

"I am Fire.

"So tell me, child: you think you've got chaos in you? You think you know what pain is? Then touch me. Touch me so I can hurt you. Touch me so I can show you what I'm made of."

Snap!

With a flick of her tail, Applejack swatted down one of the horse flies that had been hovering around her all morning. The insects of Goluboy-Pero Forest were a pestilence, far more aggressive than any bugs she'd encountered in Equestria, and it took a grave toll on her sanity.

"If I've told you once, Miss Applejack, I've told you a thousand times: you're not scaling the recipe right!"

That was, of course, in addition to several other things.

"And if I've told you once," Applejack said, whisking the contents of her mixing bowl with cyclonic fury, "I've told you a thousand times: I know how to work my own gosh-darn recipe. I've scaled this mix up to feed a whole entire town before and I ain't never gotten no complaints from nopony, so I think I can cook for twelve." She dropped the whisk and tipped her hat to wipe the sweat off her brow—it was a scorcher, even for July. Perfect weather for bugs of all sorts.

"Applejack, let's be reasonable." Flam leaned against the side of the carriage and magically fanned himself with his hat. "You could barely figure out how to turn on the griddle, and it was specifically designed to be as easy to use as possible. How in the world do you expect me to trust you with multiplication?"

Or with the oven. Or the countertop, or the locks, or any other part of the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy Six-Thousand-and... Two, was it now? Either way, the vehicle's pop-out "food-preparation station" was the only kitchen for two-hundred-fifty miles. And either way, Flam would hover over Applejack's shoulder for as long as she used it.

"Oh, but how could I forget!" Flam said, his voice dripping with sticky sardonicism. "You're the Spirit of Honesty. A paragon of virtue. The stuff of bedtime stories and charity photo-ops." He sauntered over and rested his elbows on the countertop, wrapping himself around her with his words. "I can trust you with anything, can't I?"

"But Applejack's pancakes are always amazing, Flam!" Pinkie Pie dropped a stack of dishes on the picnic table—another one of the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy's pop-out components—and bounded over the carriage. "They're light and fluffy and moist and chewy and extra-super-mega-dee-duperly scrumptious in every way! And the best part is, they're just as good every time! She's honest and dependable!"

Applejack looked away without meaning to.

Nopony else knew about Prince Blueblood's lie of omission, but the reminders picked at her conscience all the same. Whenever Applejack looked at her friends, she felt the truth bang against the walls of her heart, screaming for release. When she looked at Blueblood or his vanishing guardpony, she felt a rage hotter than the summer sun.

"Feh. One little hick town gives her business, and her friends think she's three-star Michelin material." Flam's eyes gave an exaggerated roll. He put his hat back on his head, tilted it to the side, and spoke in a thick frontier drawl: "Hey e'rrypony, guess what! Ponyville likes mah cookin'! That's right, the whole entire town o' Ponyville! Next thang ya know, Ah'll be makin' mah pancakes fer Princess Celes'cha herself!"

Applejack clenched her mixing spoon in her hoof so tightly, her foreleg cramped up. A bit of sunny rage was coming on. "If I ain't mistaken," she said, sweating into the pancake mix, "one li'l hick town's better'n ya'll ever did. Beides, I don't have to take this from a pony who puts rocks n' dirt in his apple cider."

"Yeah, your cider was pretty gross," Pinkie said. "And it wasn't just because of the rocks and dirt either. Your cider had all sorts of yucky stuff in it! Like twigs and leaves and grass and pebbles and feathers and chunks of fur and—"

"Cider competition notwithstanding," Flam snapped, fanning himself again, "I know bad cooking when I see it, and mixing that much flour with only one teaspoon of baking powder is bad cooking, plain and simple! Mark my words, missey: what you've got there is a recipe. For. Disaster."

"That right?" Applejack grabbed a measuring cup, scooped out some batter, and plopped several dollops onto the griddle. The sizzling batter smelled stronger than usual. Sweeter. "Well, whoopsie-daisy. Looks like we're havin' disaster for breakfast."

Flam fanned his hat like a turbine. He opened his mouth to let out a rebuke, but Pinkie Pie cut in front of him before he could get a word in. "Don't let Mister Grumpy-Lump get you down, Applejack!" she said, bouncing on every syllable. "These pancakes are gonna make Twilight feel much better, no matter how disaster-ey they turn out! Besides"—she hooked her foreleg around Applejack's shoulder and pulled her into a conspiratorial grip—"after what happened yesterday, I don't think we could possibly do anything to make her feel worse."

Applejack swallowed.

"Golly, though. Can you even imagine?" Pinkie grimaced with her entire body. "I mean, we're all friends with Princess Celestia, but Twilight knows her better than any of us combined. And Princess Cadance was her first friend ever! So that's two of her most special friends in the whole wide world, and they're both..." Her lips trembled. "Aw, now I'm gonna start crying!"

It was true: everyone was worried about the princesses, both as citizens and as friends, but Twilight was closer to the royal family than any of them. Applejack couldn't understand why she refused to grieve; you can't deal with loss by shutting yourself away from the ponies who care about you.

Maybe if everypony pitched in to make Twilight something special—to show her they understood what she was going through and were willing to help her through it—she would open up to them. The most special thing Applejack could do was cook a good meal, so that's what she did. Pinkie Pie set the table, RD cleared the skies above, Rarity went to the meadows to pick a breakfast bouquet, and Fluttershy followed her there to make sure she didn't get eaten by wild animals. It was shaping up to be another one of those great bonding experiences they'd been having every week or so for the past two years. And if Applejack managed to assuage some of her guilt in the process, well... who said ulterior motives were a bad thing?

"Oh, and then she wouldn't let us talk to her about it at all!" Pinkie sniffled. "Six hours of driving, and I don't think anypony said a word the whole way! It was awful!"

"Pinkie Pie..." Applejack wrangled herself out from under Pinkie's elbow and gave her a look of heavy-eyed sympathy. "Why don't you, uh... Why don't you head on down to the tent and make sure Twilight's still sleepin'?"

Pinkie Pie hiccupped through her tears. "B-But I haven't finished setting the table yet."

"I'll finish settin' it for you. 'Sides, Twilight could wake at up any moment. You don't want her to ruin her own surprise party, do you?" Applejack turned her head towards the tent and cupped her ear in mock vigilance. "Why, it sounds like Twilight's stirrin' herself awake right now! You best get over there before she finds us out, sugarcube."

Pinkie Pie leapt into the air with a ferocious gasp and sprinted to the other end of the campsite. She nearly ripped the tent apart while making her way inside; the noise carried all the way across the campsite, to Applejack's cringing horror.

The tent was Rarity's: a grand, purple castle that quivered with all the soft whisperings of a hurricane every time somepony opened the door-flaps or brushed the sides. For a moment, Applejack was sure sending Pinkie to keep Twilight in bed would be the exact thing that woke her up. Granted, Twilight was a heavy sleeper, but—

Flam coughed. "Good riddance."

Applejack turned to scowl at Flam, just in time to watch him pull a silver comb from his breast pocket. "I don't know how you can stand to be around a pony like that. I tell you, if she were any more annoying, they'd give her a radio show." He groomed the sweat out of his moustache with a practiced grace, simultaneously breezing himself with his hat. "And she's so distractible, too! Yesterday, when Flim and I were blueprinting the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy Six-Thousand-and-Two, we tried to ask her if she might have any helium to spare for the—"

"Aw, give it a rest Flam." Applejack returned her focus to the griddle. She grabbed a spatula and flipped each pancake, listening to the sizzle of the batter, watching the sweet, smoky apple scent rise with the steam. She let out an exhausted laugh. "You n' your brother ain't the world's most pleasant ponies neither, y'know. Ya'll keep criticizin' my cookin' the way you do, and—well, this here spatula ain't just for flippin' hotcakes, let me tell you."

"To be fair, your cooking is rather easy to criticize," Flam said between delicate swipes of his comb. "The way you flounder about that griddle, I have to wonder if you've ever seen a kitchen in your whole life."

Applejack heard a familiar buzzing in her ear. The horse flies had returned, likely drawn in by the smell of the pancakes. "I know my way around a kitchen, Flam," she said, shaking her head to dissuade the insects. "I been cookin' since before gradeschool, I know my stuff pretty darn well. And if ya'll hate me so much, why'd you n' Flim let me use your kitchen in the first—"

Flam cut Applejack off with a long, ugly laugh. Again, her hoof cramped around the whisk. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, just... trying to imagine you in school." Flam wiped away the tears in his eyes, then trotted a few steps out of Applejack's swinging range. "Anyway, you can thank Prince Blueblood for the use of our kitchen. I doubt he'll pay my brother and I in full unless we do everything you so-called Spirits of Harmony tell us."

"Is that so?" Applejack scowled across the campsite at the sterling fortress that was Blueblood's tent—a similar design to Rarity's, but with a forest-green pattern. Even though the tent's occupant had now done her two favors—the first being the removal of Flim—she still boiled with resentment at the drop of his name.

If that lousy Prince Blueblood really did want to help me out, he'd tell Flim n' Flam to leave me be. 'Cept they already have to do everything I say, so... Hey, wait a sec!

Applejack shot Flam a hostile glare. "If ya'll have to do everything I say, how come you won't leave me be?"

Flam put his hat back on his head, then spoke with an extra dose of assurance in his voice. "I'm only here for your own sake, Miss Applejack. The Super Speedy Cider Squeezy is an extremely delicate piece of machinery, far from user-friendly. Why, if I left you to your own devices—"

"Now you just hold on for one minute!" Applejack shut off the griddle, threw down her spatula, and stomped up to Flam with fire in her eyes. "Not two minutes ago, you told me that this here griddle was—and I quote—specifically designed to be as easy to use as possible!"

Flam's comb froze mid-stroke. He stared briefly at Applejack before making a reply. "Well, it's not easy for you to use, is it Miss Applejack?" he asked, chiding her with his comb. "Sure, it was designed to be user-friendly, but there are obviously going to be some ponies who—"

"Aw, shut up!" Applejack swatted the comb out of Flam's magical grasp."I'm gettin' so tired—so darn tired o' you n' your brother actin' like you're the only worthwhile ponies on the face of Equestria!"

Flam gave Applejack a wild-eyed glare. "You want to talk about worth? That comb you just knocked into the dirt was worth twenty bits!"

"Oh, for—" Applejack shoved her face into Flam's, so close she could see the blood in his eyes. "Y'know what your problem is?"

Flam let out a cold, spearmint whicker. "A lack of personal space?"

"No it ain't." Applejack took a step back. "Your problem is, you don't believe in nothin'."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I ain't pardonin' you. A pony like you don't deserve no pardons. A pony like you's gotten so used to hearin' lies and half-truths come outta their own mouth, they're hearin' 'em from everypony they meet." She gave his forehead a few tough knocks with her hoof. "Every word passin' through that thick head o' yours just don't ring true. And when everthin' feels like a lie, nopony's worth believin' in.

"Isn't that why you don't want me around your carriage? You don't think I'm tellin' the truth when I say I ain't gonna break nothin'? Well, believe it or not—and I know you won't—I'd go away if you told me to. Yep, I'd leave without more'n a few words of protest, 'cause even though I don't respect you, I understand that your property's your property." Applejack gave Flam's chest a small punch. "But you don't tell me to go away, 'cause you also don't believe Blueblood when he tells you he's gonna pay you. So you sit here pesterin' me, hopin' I'll leave of my own accord, and... and you ain't listenin' to a word I'm sayin' right now, are you?"

With a flash of magic, Flam tugged his comb out of the dirt, giving her a superior smile. "Oh, Applejack. Just when I think you can't possibly be more wrong, you quickly prove otherwise. You see, I do believe in something. In fact, over the course of my life, I've come to believe in four things!"

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and polished the dirt off his comb. "Number one: I the greatest salespony Equestria has ever seen. Number two: I am the greatest chef Equestria has ever seen. Number three: I am the greatest mechanic Equestria has ever seen. And last, but most certainly not least..." He exhaled on the comb before finishing the polish. "My brother is my equal in each and every one of the aforementioned areas of expertise."

Before Applejack could retort, a loud buzzing thing flew into her ear. The noise startled her—she stumbled back into the countertop and banged her funny bone against its corner. Pain filled her leg like hot whisky.

"Yes, I dare say my brother and I are two of the most talented ponies in Equestria," Flam continued. "If there are two ponies I can believe in, those ponies are myself and my brother."

Applejack clutched her elbow and chewed her lip, trying to hold back the storm of curses brewing on her tongue. She looked up with lidded eyes. Flam's comb was finished with his moustache; it now parted his mane, weaving through stripes of hair like a silver louse. Her vision grew blurry—she blinked and pulled her head back. That smarmy, stinking, son-of-a-gun horse fly sat mockingly on the bridge of her nose.

Her head spun. The anger she felt was impossible, so hot and consumptive she thought she was going to cry. All of this this—this pain, this embarrassment, this bubbling, steaming, screaming heat—she earned it. Because even after lying to her friends, she had the gall to preach about trust and forthrightness. It was the worst kind of hypocrisy—she could feel it frothing in her pores. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think.

And there.

There was Flam not three feet away, rutting his ego like he'd taken a bath in silphium. His words clanged against her skull: If there are two ponies I can believe in, those ponies are myself and my brother!

"So basically, you only believe in yourself?"

Flam stopped. For the second time that morning, his comb grew completely still. "Come again?"

"It's somethin' I was gonna say before I realized you weren't listenin' to me." Applejack pulled herself off the ground. She shook her mane, batting the horse fly to the other end of her body. "The only pony you believe in—besides yourself, o' course—is your brother, and that's only 'cause ya'll are pretty much exactly the same."

Flam let out a deep, condescending laugh. "No, Miss Applejack. My brother and I are not exactly the same. Our outward appearances may be similar, but on the inside, we are very different."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Flam. I can see how those sorts o' comments might leave you mite bit frustrated. But my claim weren't based on the way ya'll look. My claim's based on the way ya'll act." Applejack took a few more steps towards Flam. She could feel the horse fly crawling on her hip, just out of her tail's smacking distance. "Ya'll do everything alike, don't cha? Struttin' around in those cute li'l matchin' outfits, makin' like you're the smartest ponies what ever lived. Drivin' together, eatin' together, sleepin' together—same bed too, I'd wager." Flam's face turned red as a brick. "Of course, I'm sure you could name a few ways ya'll aren't completely—"

"I certainly can, you lecherous cretin!" Flam marched up to Applejack with a brisk, determined stride. The wind from his gait blew the horse fly on Applejack's back a little closer to her tail. "There are plenty of ways my brother and I are different. For instance... Erm..."

As Flam paused for thought, a twinge of apprehension shivered through Applejack's mind: This is wrong, idn't? Playin' on a pony's insecurities for a laugh?

Aw, who cares! It's hot, I'm angry, and Flam's been treatin' me like dirt all mornin'. It's about time he got his.

Flam pulled his hat off his head and resumed his fanning. "Well... sometimes I have a hard time keeping my face straight during musical numbers, but Flim doesn't. Which is why I choose to wear a moustache. Hmm... Also, Flim enjoys being outdoors during the winter months—he always lets his coat grow out more. And, ah..."

Applejack raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"And—Eh, let's see... Oh! Flim doesn't like the way his mane tickles his forehead, so he uses more mousse than I do. So there's that."

"Gee, Flam,"—Applejack took a few laughing steps forward—"I didn't know hairstyle was such an important personality trait."

"You don't—I didn't mean—" Flam fanned himself so hard, Applejack thought the hat would burst into flame. "Just shut up and finish cooking your stupid pancakes, would you? The faster you get this done, the faster I can kick you out of my kitchen!"

"You can't cook pancakes with denial, Flam."

"Well, you can't cook pancakes with stupidity either, but that's not stopping—"

"Flam, I'm back." Applejack and Flam both turned to see Flim trotting out of Blueblood's tent, his hair frayed in exhaustion. "You're not going to believe this, brother: a whole half-hour searching for short-circuits and wiring problems when, as it turns out, the curling iron's battery terminal just had a bit of shaving cream in it the entire time."

Flam rushed over to his brother's side. "Oh, thank goodness you're here, Flim! Would you please tell this simpleton that we are not—"

"Well, howdy Flim!" Applejack interrupted. "Me n' Flam were havin' a little debate just now and, well, I was wonderin'—What d'you believe in?"

"What do I believe in?" Flim gave Applejack a confused look. Flam just gave Applejack a look. "Well, I'm not quite sure what you mean, nor do I care to answer any of your questions. But I can tell you this: over the course of my life, I've come to believe in—hmm—four things."

Flam's hat fell to the ground.

"One: I am the greatest salespony Equestria has ever seen."

Applejack felt the horse fly crawling across the edge of her flank. It was nearly within smacking distance, now.

"Two: I am the greatest chef has ever seen."

Flam's eyes darted between Flim and Applejack, his face flashing from worry to deep, flaming hatred with every hurried glance.

"Three: I am the greatest mechanic Equestria has ever seen."

Applejack's tail twitched in anticipation. Almost there, and...

"...last, but most certainly not least"—Flim turned to face Flam, beaming with pride—"my brother is my equal in each and every one of the aforementioned areas of expertise!"

Snap!

Flam stared silently at his brother. His eyes grew heavy and his jaw hung slightly open, the corners of his mouth curling into a delicate frown.

"Are you alright, brother?" Flim gave the other stallion a light nudge.

"Oh, of course I'm alright!" Flam's face sprang back into a fake smile, his eyes shimmering. "Why, I'm fine and dandy, is what I am! How could I not be, when I've got"—he swallowed—"a brother as wonderful as you?"

Applejack's anger dissolved. Whatever fun she'd gotten out of picking on Flam melted away like wax. Did I just do that? she asked herself, thinking—really thinking—for the first time since she banged her funnybone. I know he deserved it, but—Well, hang on. Did he? Aw, maybe I went a little too—

"Applejack!"

Rainbow Dash slammed into the ground with a billowing crash, rattling the dishware and sending a cloud of dust into Applejack's face. She leapt out of her crater like a cat out of water. "AJ, we've got a big problem! Everypony needs to take cover right now!"

Applejack tried to wipe some of the dust out of her eyes, but she had to keep a hoof on her hat so it wouldn't off—a hot wind was blowing. "Is a storm comin' in? Shoot, I was afraid this would happen. How long've we got 'till it starts rainin'?"

"Not a storm!" Rainbow Dash shouted. "Way worse than a storm. We've gotta find Rarity and Fluttershy, and—Where'd Pinkie go!?" She glanced around the campsite with uncharacteristic worry.

"You gotta get ahold o' yourself, sugarcube. Just take a deep breath and tell me—"

"Where is Pinkie Pie!?"

Applejack trotted up to Rainbow's side, shaking her head a bit to clear her thoughts and restore her focus. It was hard to ignore Flim and Flam whispering anxiously to one-another, and harder still to talk over the wind. "She's in the tent, keepin' watch over Twilight. Now what's this all about, Rainbow?"

A tumult of roars flooded the forest, so loud they rocked the ground beneath Applejack's hooves.

"Take a guess," said Rainbow Dash.

Picking flowers wasn't as fun as Fluttershy hoped it would be. She'd expected a nice, relaxing morning of dawning skies, delicious smells, and pleasant conversation. Instead, she got a midday sun and buzzing nightmare of a meadow. It was like the Everfree Forest had given itself a haircut.

"Oh, you devilish little—Take that!" Rarity whirled around and snapped her tail at a mosquito. Her face was comically angry. "Fluttershy, these insects are a plague. A plague, I tell you. If I have to spend one more minute in this dreadful place, I'll—" She abated, chewing her lip at the sea of flowers that surrounded her. "Oh, but these flowers are so lovely, aren't they? A little too flashy for a proper bouquet, perhaps, but their smell is positively delectable! I'll just have to find a place for each and every one, even if it means I have to tolerate these..."—she sucked the air in through her teeth—"...insects. What say you, darling? A few minutes more, and then we'll leave?"

"Hm?" Fluttershy glanced up. "Oh, um... Yes, that sounds alright."

Satisfied with Fluttershy's answer, Rarity stuffed more flowers into her saddlebags, already full to bursting, and trode away through the fog of mosquitoes behind her.

Fluttershy let out another sigh; the flowers did not smell positively delectable. If she were being honest, she'd say the flowers were a little too strong for her liking, especially at breakfast time. If she were being perfectly honest, she'd call them a violent assault on the nose. More than that—these flowers were a sign. A warning of the vast ecological differences between Goluboy-Pero Forest and Equestria.

In Equestria, flowers who naturally grew together were complimentary of one-another. Their aromas blended into a fragrance far greater—far tastier—than the sum of its parts. But in Goluboy-Pero Forest, the flora were competitive. The flowers' scents overlapped one-another, vying for the attention of the equally aggressive bees and butterflies. They competed for light as well: all of them grew so tall, their petals reached above Fluttershy's knees.

Fluttershy still thought that it would be best to continue to pick flowers, even though she couldn't find any that suited her palate. This bouquet was meant for Twilight, after all. It didn't matter if Fluttershy couldn't enjoy herself. So she held her breath, bent down, and opened her mouth to collect the flower in front of her.

But before Fluttershy could even get her teeth around its stem, the flower dropped beneath the brush. When she ducked into the undergrowth to follow it, she found a chipmunk holding the stem between its teeth. It looked up at her distractedly.

Oh, maybe he knows where I can find something a little less sweet.

"Hello there, Mister Chipmunk. My name is Fluttershy, and I was wondering if maybe you could show me where I can find some not-overly-sweet flowers? Oh—that is, if you're not too busy of course." The chipmunk stared curtly at Fluttershy, giving the stem a few curious chews. He bolted.

Fluttershy pushed her head deeper into the mess of flowers and called out after him: "That's alright. I'm sure I can find them on my own. Thank you anyway."

He didn't chirp back. The empty forest of flower-stems gave Fluttershy a hollow, lonely feeling—a feeling she hadn't felt since she was very young.

Still, she was more confused than anything else. Why was that little chipmunk so much more interested in the stem of the flower than the petals? Didn't he know that the petals were the best part? Unless...

Fluttershy nosed open her saddlebags and bit off a few different colors of foliage.

"Yuck!" She spat them back out, scraping her tongue with her teeth to get as much of the vile stuff out of her mouth as possible. It was the worst thing Fluttershy had ever tasted, and that was coming from a pony who once chewed up a worm to feed a baby bird.

"Oh Rarity, I think we've made a terrible mistake," Fluttershy said, taking off her saddlebags and dumping out their contents. "I just tried some of the flowers, and they didn't taste very good at all. Maybe we should just head back now?"

No response.

Fluttershy then noticed how strong the wind had become. Warm, loud gales swept across the meadow, deafening her to the birdsongs and buzzing insects that were once so prevalent. She could barely hear her own voice over the noise; it made sense that Rarity wouldn't have been able to hear her either. She tried calling out once more, louder this time: "Where are you, Rarity? Can you hear me?"

Again, no response.

Maybe I'm standing a little too far away.

She glanced around the meadow, expecting to find Rarity near the edge of the clearing. Instead she found her only a few yards away, staring slack-jawed at the sky.

"What's the matter, Rarity?"

Fluttershy turned her head up to follow Rarity's gaze. There was a flock of what appeared to be blue cranes flying at pretty a low altitude, but that couldn't be what Rarity was looking at. Fluttershy shifted her focus a little farther away, and—

Dragons.

She froze. Her heart thumped painfully against her chest. Fear petrified her; all she could do was stare at the descending horde, with their leathery wings and shining eyes and all the raging jets of fire exploding out from between their teeth and oh, their TEETH.

Fluttershy heard a piercing shriek come from somewhere close by. It took her a moment to realize it was coming out of her own mouth.

Twilight squealed with joy. She was flying! She was really flying!

Well, actually she was just riding on Princess Cadance's back, but it was exhilarating all the same. She soared through the air, swooping across the palace gardens, whipping past statues and hedge-figures faster than she ever could have imagined. It was a little scary now that she thought about it, but Cadance wouldn't let her fall off. Twilight held on a little harder though, just in case.

"OUCH!" Cadance stopped mid-flight. She pulled Twilight off of her back with a flare of magic and dangled her in the air. "Twilight, you were tugging on my mane again. You need to hold on more gently, or this isn't going to be safe."

Twilight was pulling Cadance's hair? But she didn't do it on purpose! Her eyes welled up. "I-I didn't mean—"

An understanding smile graced Cadance's lips. "Oh, please don't cry, Twilight. I'm very sorry for yelling at you, but I'm only trying to keep you safe. Just promise me you'll be more gentle from now on, okay?"

"Okay, I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

Cadance placed Twilight on her back, nestling her safely between her wings. "Apology accepted."

And just like that, they were up in the air once more. Twilight instantly forgot her troubles and basked in the in the majesty of flight: the wind rushing past her face, Cadance's downy feathers brushing reassuringly against her legs, the sweet smell of the gardens filling her nose with every twist and dive. She couldn't remember what the names of the flowers were, but they smelled wonderful. Maybe if she leaned in a little closer, she could—

"Twilight, you're pulling my hair! You're pulling—"

Crash!

Twilight careened off of Cadance's back and into the rose bushes below. Thorns tore into her skin, snaring her in a mess of spikes and stems. She thrashed around, trying to free herself from the bush's needled grip, but her struggling only made the thorns dig deeper.

The only way Twilight could get out of the bushes was if she found Cadance. She whipped her head from left to right and screamed Cadance's name, tears blurring her vision. Eventually, Twilight spotted her a few feet away. Cadance was tangled in the bushes as well.

"Cadance! Cadance, I need help!"

Princess Cadance didn't move. She lay still, her face concealed by petals and shadowed greenery. "I told you not to pull my hair."

"I know!" Twilight yelled between choked sobs. "I'm really, really sorry! But I—"

"I told you not to pull my hair, Twilight." Cadance yanked herself free from the rose bushes. Her face was a bloody mess, torn apart like wrapping paper. "I told you not to pull my hair, but you didn't listen, and now you've got what you deserve."

"But-But Cadance, please! I need... I—"

"If you need help, you can help yourself. I'm not babying you anymore." Cadance turned around and walked away more slowly than what should have been possible. Fire blossomed in each hoofprint she left behind. The flames, blue and shining as forget-me-nots, crawled across the darkening grounds.

Twilight tried to scream, but her throat was locked shut by terror. Her whole body froze; no matter how much she willed her limbs to move, they held still as though bound by heavy chains. She couldn't even close her eyes. All she could do was watch the fire spread across the garden, burning all the sweet, pretty flowers until they turned to acrid smoke. The smoggy blanket made her cry and choke. Her skin buzzed. She felt like she was going to explode and implode at the same time. At last, she screamed—the fire was licking at her hooves. It rose up her hind legs, singed off her fur, and charred the skin beneath until—

"Twilight, wake up!"

Her eyes shot open. She felt her lungs spasming for breath. Her mouth was dry, and sweat matted every hair on her body. She pushed herself up on her elbow with a disoriented grunt and squinted through the dark of the tent. Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie stared back at her. "Guys? Why are—What's going on?"

"Sorry to wake you up before breakfast," said Pinkie, "but we've got a really, really, really big crisis on our hooves! Rainbow Dash was flying above the clouds a little while ago, and while she was up there, she saw a great big flock of dragons!"

Twilight turned what little focus she could muster to Rainbow Dash. "Dragons? Are you sure?"

"Yeah. There were thirty or forty of 'em up there, easy. Lucky I'm so fast, or they would have spotted me before I had time to drop below the clouds."

"Okay, but..." Twilight rubbed her eyes. "Well, are you sure?"

Rainbow Dash gave Twilight an incredulous stare. "Pretty sure, yeah. You can't just look up and mistake a flock of birds or something for dragons."

"Plus, we didn't just see dragons! We heard them too!" Pinkie hopped up on her hind legs and loomed menacingly over Twilight. "They were like, 'ROOOAAAR!' I'm actually kinda surprised you didn't wake up."

Twilight rubbed her eyes again, trying to suppress a heavy yawn. "I'm sure the two of you know what you saw, but—Well, it just doesn't make any sense. The dragons won't be flying north for at least another seventy years, and even if they've somehow managed to consume every diamond in the Scorched South, their migratory route doesn't take them over New Leoquillia. I see no possible reason why we would find—"

"DRAGONS!" Rarity burst into the tent, her chest heaving. She stumbled across the ground, tripped over a sleeping bag, and collapsed on top of Twilight, knocking the breath out of her. "I saw... I was in... the meadow," she said between gasps of air, "and I thought I heard something... so I looked up and... and I saw... I saw... Oh." With that, Rarity passed out, her hoof raised daintily to her forehead.

Pinkie Pie gave Rarity's semi-conscious body a gentle tap. "Saw what?"

Twilight rolled her eyes, then pushed Rarity's body aside and peeled herself out of her sleeping bag. "Alright, I'm not going to argue with multiple eyewitnesses. So, what exactly are we going to do about these dragons?"

Rainbow Dash rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "Well, we were kinda hoping you'd already have a plan in mind."

Of course. What else am I good for? Twilight slogged her way over to the tent's opening, making sure to grab her hair-ribbon along the way, and pulled the flaps apart. "I think the first thing we should do is get under cover. The Super Speedy Cider Squeezy is the closest thing we have to an actual, practical shelter, so it would be best if—Uagh!"

Light. Burning, scathing, evil light. Twilight covered her face and recoiled into the shadiest part of the tent. How can it be so bright out already? Unless I've somehow managed to oversleep two days in a row, this can't—Oh, right. Now that we've left Equestria, Princess Celestia's magic won't...

Twilight cursed inwardly. She had almost managed to go a full three minutes without thinking about Princess Celestia.

Pinkie Pie trotted into Twilight's corner of the tent, a clever smile on her face. "Already gotcha covered on the shelter-thing, Twilight! Cranky, Trixie, and the Flim-Flam brothers are tucked away in the carriage, nice n' safe, so all we gotta do now is pack everything up, do a headcount, and figure out where to go from there!"

"Pack everything up?" Twilight gave Pinkie a befuddled look. "Pinkie Pie, we need to leave this place as soon as possible. A few tents and sleeping bags aren't worth risking our lives over."

Rainbow Dash cast a sidelong glance through the tent's opening. "Try telling that to Prince Blueblood."

Prince Blueblood... Ugh. I almost went a full three minutes without having to think about him, either.

Twilight braced herself for the sunlight and stepped out of the tent. She waited for Pinkie and Rainbow Dash to follow before zipping up the door behind them and walking to the other, sunnier end of the clearing. Once her eyes adjusted, she saw Applejack and Blueblood arguing near the carriage.

"I'm only gonna say this one more time, your majesty!" Applejack said. "Forget about the tent or you're gonna get'cherself killed! You can just buy replacements for all the stuff you'll be leavin' behind once we reach New Leoquillia!"

"Buy replacements? Buy replacements!?" Blueblood jabbed his hoof at his tent, giving Applejack a look of supreme indignation. "Miss Applejack, do have any idea—any idea in the world—how valuable the contents of that tent are? Every single item inside of that tent was custom-made, hoof-crafted, and personally gifted to me by the most renowned furniture designers in all of Equestria. They are literally irreplaceable."

Applejack's eyes went wide. "Why in the world would you take anything that valuable on a camping trip?"

"Well, pardon me for not anticipating a dragon-attack." Prince Blueblood covered his face with his hoof, stress weighing down his figure. "Oh, this doesn't make even the slightest bit of sense! How is it that—Why, good morning Miss Sparkle!"

Twilight began to chew her lip. Not good; she was already losing patience with Blueblood, and he'd only said five words to her. The sooner she cut this conflict off, the better.

"I'm so happy to see you awake!" he said, bounding up to Twilight with a Pinkie-ish spring. "I say, if it isn't too much trouble, could you help me pack up my things?" He chortled. "Oh, but what am I saying! Of course it isn't too much trouble, not for the Spirit of Magic herself!"

"Oh no you don't!"Applejack dashed over to Twilight as well, though her gait wasn't as jovial as Blueblood's. "You ain't gotta do anything Prince Blueblood tells you, Twilight. As far as I'm concerned, the only thing we need to do is—"

"It's fine. I can have everything packed up in thirty seconds. Just stand back." Twilight took a deep breath, drew as much energy into her horn as she could, and... Krrch! Every single tent in the campsite ripped straight out of the ground, stakes and all. One by one, they lined up in a row and flew across the—

"Hnng—" The camping gear lurched. Twilight flinched just as hard.

"Are you okay, Twilight?" Pinkie asked.

"I'm fine. It's fine."

Actually, it wasn't fine. The combined mass of the equipment would have been tough to handle even if Twilight were fully awake; it would take all of her focus to make this work. She changed her grip, hefted the camping gear, and shoved it along the shaky channel of her magic.

Something tapped her on the shoulder. Pinkie again: "Twilight, I think that—"

"I said, it's fine." The camping gear was almost all the way to the other end of the grounds now. With a muffled grunt and a hot flare of her horn, Twilight popped open the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy's trunk and propped it. She tightened her ribbon to keep her mane from sticking to the sweat on her forehead.

"Uh, Twilight, I'm pretty sure—"

"It's fine, Pinkie!"

The tents had finally reached the other end of the campsite. Twilight magically pressed them into a single, crumpled mass of wood and fabric, propped the trunk just a little farther open, positioned the ball of camping gear for maximum cramming efficiency, and—

"Twilight."

"It's fine!" Twilight whipped around to face Pinkie Pie. With a crash, the tents collapsed into a jumbled mess behind her. "How many times do I have to tell you something before you actually start listening to me, Pinkie!? It's fine! It's fine, it's fine, it's fine, it's fine, it's fine, it's fine, it's fine! It! Is! Fine!"

Pinkie Pie silently gestured towards the other end of the campsite. When Twilight turned to follow Pinkie's motion, she saw that something was flailing around inside of the tent-heap.

"Rarity!"

A horn stabbed up from within the purple tent on top. It ripped apart the material, slitting through nylon and zippers and golden trim, even denting the brass knob that went atop the flag pole. And once the horn had ceased its butchering, and the tent was nothing more than a pile of tattered scraps, there was Rarity, rising from the heap like Venus from her shell. Her eyes were filled with death.

"You left me in the tent."

"I, er—" Twilight backed away out of instinct. "Yes. Yes I did and I am very sorry to have done that. But I—"

"You. Left me. In the tent."

Twilight glanced around, hoping that somepony might be willing to come to her defense. This did not appear to be the case. Applejack was having a laugh attack, as was Rainbow Dash. Prince Blueblood seemed far too stunned to notice anything other than the scene playing in front of him. The only pony whose eye she caught was Pinkie Pie, and all she was willing to do was give Twilight an 'I told you so' stare.

Twilight turned back around. Rarity's face was now inches away. "Rarity, I swear I didn't mean to—"

"You left me in the tent!" Rarity stomped her feet in a manner some would describe as unladylike. "I could have suffocated! I could have died right then and there, and you wouldn't have realized it until the next time you opened the trunk!"

"I know, and—"

Rarity shushed Twilight with a glare. "And what's worse is, in order to save myself, I had to destroy my beautiful tent! Now what will protect us from all of these horrid insects while we sleep? Nothing! Nothing at all!" She brought a trembling hoof to her lip. Her voice grew very quiet. "Oh my goodness, I've just realized—my tent is destroyed. My two-hundred bit, custom-colored, designer tent is destroyed."

"Rarity, I really—"

"And that's not even the worst of it!" Rarity sniffled. "No, the worst part of this terrible charade is that you all forgot about me! Every single one of you! I suppose I could expect this sort of thing from Rainbow Dash, but the rest of you? For shame!"

Rainbow Dash didn't have anything to say in her defense. All she could do was roll around on the ground, her legs wagging in the air hysterically. "Oh man, can you imagine the obituary? 'Honored Spirit of Harmony killed by a tent!'"

"It's not funny!" Rarity stormed up to Rainbow Dash and gave her a chastening kick to the side. "I was exhausted to fainting, and instead of helping me up, you just left me there to die! Don't you feel the least bit ashamed?"

"Why should she?" Applejack removed her hat and began to fan herself. "Land sakes girl, get a little perspective! Poor ol' Fluttershy was probably runnin' twice as hard as you were, and you don't see her passin' out all over the place."

"Hey, come to think of it..." Rainbow Dash picked herself up, her laughter replaced by a quick sobriety. "Has anypony seen Fluttershy? Like, at all?"

Twilight blinked. She had not seen Fluttershy, and given the others' hurried glances around the campsite, none of them had seen Fluttershy either.

"Hold on, this doesn't make any sense." Twilight trotted up to Rainbow, shaking her head assuredly. "Fluttershy has to be around here somewhere, doesn't she? Maybe she's in the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy with the others. She wouldn't just go wandering off into the forest without at least asking permission first, after all."

Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Rarity all exchanged worried looks.

"Wait... Why was Rarity in the meadows? What's going on, here?"

Prince Blueblood cleared his throat. "I believe Miss Sparkle and I are both missing a key piece of information. Would the three of you be so kind as to put us in the know?"

"Are you sure you wouldn't just be better off in the dark?" Applejack gave Blueblood a shrewd glare.

Prince Blueblood shot Applejack a threatening look of his own. "Very well then, Miss Applejack! Perhaps you could explain to us what you meant when you said that Miss Fluttershy 'was probably running twice as hard' as Miss Rarity? Because if I'm not mistaken, your saying this implies a certain degree of knowledge. Am I correct?"

Applejack swallowed.

Twilight took a few tentative steps towards Applejack, her head askew. "Is that true, Applejack? Are you hiding something from us?"

"Well Twilight, I"—she took a small breath—"I wanted to cook you a nice breakfast this mornin', so I asked Rarity n' Fluttershy if they could go down to the meadow to pick a bouquet for a side-dish. So if she ain't here, then that means she's still—"

Pinkie Pie leapt in front of Applejack with a tremendous gasp. "She's still in the meadows! She's still in the meadows! We gotta get there as fast as we can, or those dragons'll gobble her up!"

"Wait, seriously? She's still there?" Rainbow Dash swooped over to Rarity, her arms raised above her head in furious disbelief. "Rarity, you've gotta be kidding me! Did you even check to see if she was following you?"

"I'm sorry, I just assumed that she was! Besides, I was so frightened, I—Oh, why should I feel guilty about this? I couldn't possibly be expected to keep track of Fluttershy, not while there were dragons flying about!" Rarity jabbed Rainbow's chest. "What's your excuse? Why didn't you realize she hadn't returned with me?"

"Classic Rarity! You get all huffy about how nopony remembers you, but when—"

"NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR THIS!" Blueblood cut between the squabbling pair and gave them a severe look. "Miss Fluttershy is in grave danger, and the death of a Spirit of Harmony is a casualty we cannot afford. We must rescue her posthaste. Now, would somepony please tell me where the meadows are?"

Pinkie's hoof shot up. "They're straight up north from here! I'm pretty sure it's a ten minute walk, but if we all gallop I bet we can make it there in only three minutes! Oh, but"—Pinkie retracted her hoof, frowning with diffidence—"I dunno how we're gonna deal with the dragons once we get there. The only one of us that's ever reasoned with a grown-up dragon is Fluttershy, and I don't think she's gonna be able to save herself from a whole horde!"

Blueblood closed his eyes and exhaled, hissing through his teeth. After several seconds, he spoke: "Guard?"

"Yes, your grace?" The black guardpony appeared at Blueblood's side. His face was even harder than usual, as though he were actively trying not to show emotion.

"Have you been trained to perform rescue missions?"

The guard gave a curt nod.

"Then I would like you rescue the Spirit of Kindness, preferably without alerting any of the dragons to your presence. Can you do this for me?"

The guardpony drew a sharp breath. "Yes, I think so."

Blueblood opened his eyes. He turned toward the guard and leaned into his face to give him a narrow, menacing glare. "You think so?"

"I—Apologies, your highness," the guardpony said, casting his eyes away from Blueblood's. "Yes, I can rescue her."

"Then go." Prince Blueblood gestured northward.

After giving a quick salute, the guard turned to follow Blueblood's hoof and—with visible hesitation—dashed into the woods, vanishing silently as he ran.

A lump formed in Twilight's throat. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't be this close to losing another one of her friends, not so soon after Princess Celestia. She screwed her eyes shut and took a long, hard breath through gritted teeth. This wasn't happening. It wasn't.

"Miss Sparkle?"

Twilight's eyes snapped open. Blueblood stood in front of her, giving her a look of stern expectancy. She stuttered in response: "I—Yes?"

Prince Blueblood drew his handkerchief out of his pocket and gave his forehead a few chaste dabs. "In my guard's absence, we will require some alternative means of self-protection. Are you familiar with the apocrymantic corpus?"

Twilight was taken aback; Blueblood was so... sharp. So focused and direct. So completely different from how he was acting just a few minutes ago. So completely different from how she should be acting. Yes, that's right, this was no time for panic. This was happening, and if she was going to be of any help, she needed to pull herself together.

"If by 'apocrymantic corpus,' you're referring to the magic of concealment, then yes." Twilight gave the ends of her ribbon a quick tug and looked Prince Blueblood straight in the eye. "I have a passing familiarity with some glamours and protection charms, but I'm not an expert. Do want me to cast a spell on the campsite?"

"No, nothing so taxing," Blueblood replied, stuffing the handkerchief back into his breast pocket. "I would, however, like you to conceal our mode of transport."

"Could you be more specific?"

"Please turn the carriage invisible and inaudible. The charms should only affect the outside of the vehicle; do not impair the driver's line of sight, nor should you change the opacity of the windows. Can you do this?"

Twilight pursed her lips in thought. The inaudibility charm wouldn't be too difficult to pull off—noise-cancellation charms were easy—but turning the carriage and all its contents invisible to Blueblood's specifications? Not so much.

Twilight was not as well-versed in apocrymancy as she would have liked. She never found the spells worth looking into; they weren't challenging enough to catch her attention, nor practical enough to demand it. She could cast them—of course, she could cast them—but she couldn't cast them easily, especially on objects as large and complex as the carriage. But it wasn't the size of the carriage that scared Twilight—it was the windshield.

Usually, when somepony wanted to turn themselves invisible, they could enchant most of their body but ignore their pupils—no one would notice something as small as a pupil. But windshields weren't small. If Twilight wanted to conceal the vehicle without compromising the driver's sight, she would have to cast an advanced version of the spell: a magical conduit with one lane, one tunnel, and two exits. Again, she could do it. And again, it would be tricky.

"Yes," Twilight said, returning to Prince Blueblood, "but again, I'm no expert on this type of magic. Casting those spells will take time."

"Then I suppose you'd better get started. As for the rest of you"—he turned to face the others, giving them a thin grimace—"I would like you to help me pack our belongings so that the dragons, should they appear, will not immediately discover us. Come along, we haven't much time."

Everypony began a fearful, hurried trot towards the carriage.

Despite the urgency of the situation, Twilight still felt a piece of her brain burning with curiosity. She spotted Applejack at the back of the small crowd, trailing with a depressed canter. Twilight caught up to her and gently pulled her aside with a bit of magic. "Applejack, I need to ask you something."

Applejack eyes shifted along the ground. "Somethin' wrong, Twilight?"

"Er—Well, I..." For some reason, the words wouldn't form in Twilight's mouth. Her eyes lingered over to the southeasterly end of the campsite, where the others had already started sorting their belongings. They sifted through layers of camping gear, looking for scraps of the purple tent. Rarity was close to tears—probably for several reasons.

"Sugarcube?"

"Oh!" Twilight snapped back to attention. At last, she spoke: "Why did you feel the need to make me a special breakfast this morning?"

"Well—That is, uh..." Applejack hid her face behind the corner of her hat. "With all that happened yesterday, I figured you were havin' a tough time of things with... y'know. I thought maybe I could cheer you up with pancakes n' good company, but—Oh, never you mind none. It don't matter now."

Twilight stepped off to the side, allowing Applejack to pass. Something heavy tugged on her stomach. She chose to ignore it.

Grass and darkness. Apart from her own hooves, they were the only things Fluttershy could see.

She'd been pressing herself into the cool dirt for hours now, hoping the dragons wouldn't notice her in the undergrowth. She could hear them laughing, feel them stomping around, stifling the air with jets of fire, hot ashes landing on her back. It was too much—the humidity was so great, she could barely breathe. She had to get out of the clearing soon.

But grass and darkness were all Fluttershy could see.

She'd been hiding in the brush for so long, she couldn't tell north from south. She would have no way of getting back to camp. That was assuming she could even will herself to move; every muscle in her body felt weak and tense at the same time. Her fur was covered in sweat, and her stomach felt as though it were climbing up her throat. If she moved, she would throw up. She knew it.

Still, better to throw up than to get eaten.

Fluttershy took a breath. She shut her eyes, pushed her hooves an inch forward, then slowly pulled herself through the grass. Immediately, she perked her ears and listened: a few nearby dragons were chuckling—teenagers from the sound of it—but no heavy footsteps. She let out a quiet, imperceptible sigh and—

Krrch!

A large, clawed foot slammed down in front of Fluttershy.

Something grabbed her tail and yanked her out of the undergrowth. Grass and darkness gave way to painful sunlight, and she was blinded. She pried open her eyes—slowly, painfully, her heart thumping against her chest—and came face to face with a tall, stiletto-red dragon. "Well, lookie what we got here."

With a laugh, he turned around and called out to a pair of teenage dragons standing a few feet away. "Check it out, guys! Told you I could sneak up on her!"

They broke into fits of laughter. The one on the right, a grotesquely fat creature with brown scales and stubby horns, spoke. "I didn't think you had it in you! All that practice with the phoenices in Froud Valley must have paid off."

The gangly, pruple dragon on the left doubled over. "Ha—Oh man, look at her! She's got butterflies and a pretty pink mane!"

"I know, right?" The red dragon let out a scathing, churlish laugh. "Isn't she just the namby-pambiest thing you've ever seen? Hey, d'you think we can get her to scream if we—Woah!"

Fluttershy's wings started flapping on their own. Without thinking, she flew harder than she ever had before, ignoring the burn in her muscles and the tugging on her grappled tail. The red dragon barely held on.

"Nng—Guys, help me out here!"

The other dragons swooped over and tore Fluttershy out of the air. They clawed her back, plucked her feathers, and wrestled her into the dirt until she stopped moving her wings—not because she was tired, but because she couldn't feel them. The red dragon stooped down to face her at eye-level, a disgusting grin on his face. "What's your name, pony?"

Fluttershy couldn't say anything back. She felt something on her wings—something warm and wet and worrisome that slicked from the numbest, most injured spots. And this dragon, this red behemoth whose breath smelled of fear and dead animals, was showing her his teeth. Heavens, his teeth. Fluttershy wanted to look away, but her eyes stuck to them like plaque, dashing over every reddened fang.

"You like my teeth, huh?"

She buried her face in the ground.

"Aw, come on!" the dragon said. "You know just because you can't see me, that doesn't mean I can't see you, right?" He grabbed Fluttershy's chin and pulled her out of the dirt, bringing her close to his toothy smile. "Now, tell me your name or I'm gonna bite your face off."

Fluttershy started to cry. She couldn't remember what her name was. "Fuh... Flutteh... F-Fluh... F-F-Fuh..."

"Fuh! Fuh! Fuh!" the dragon mimicked, contorting his face into mock terror. "What kind of a name is 'Fuh?' Have either of you guys ever met anybody named 'Fuh?'"

The fat one let out a deep, throaty laugh. "I know I haven't. What about you, Crash?"

"Nah, me neither! I think she's lying to you, dude." The purple dragon grabbed Fluttershy's mane and yanked hard, making her cry out. "You lying to my friend, pony? Are you? Huh?"

The red dragon leaned back, thoughtfully tapping his chin. "Hmm... No, I don't think she's lying. She's probably just having a little trouble expressing herself. Isn't that right, pony?" He shoved his face back down, grinning wide enough to show off every tooth in his mouth. "Aw, don't worry. I'm sure if I give you a little encouragement, your lips will loosen right up."

The dragon pulled his head back, opened his mouth as wide as he could, and— Snap!

Fluttershy tried to leap backwards, but the other dragons held her down. She spoke louder and faster than she ever had in her life. "Please, I'm sorry! I don't want to—"

Snap!

"AH!" The dragons holding onto Fluttershy were laughing now. They shoved her closer to the red demon's gnashing teeth. "Please, I'm sorry! I'll do anything, just please don't—"

Snap!

"No!" Fluttershy let go of any articulacy she had left, breaking down into a pile of dizzied screams and sobs. "Anything! Anything, please—"

Snap!

"Please!" But the dragon only moved closer, so close now that Fluttershy could see down his throat.

"No, PLEA—"

SNAP!

...But his teeth didn't connect. Fluttershy didn't feel the dragon bite down onto her muzzle. She couldn't smell his rotten breath, or hear the atrocious laugh of his friends. All she heard now was the wind rushing past her face and the hypnotic rustle of the dark, swaying undergrowth. Her legs floated meekly behind her.

The sight of them made her sick for some reason, but it was a comfortable nausea, like the feeling she got before they put her to sleep for surgery. It was nice and quiet, too—there was only a whisper:

"Stay calm. Keep your head down."

Grass and darkness were all Fluttershy could see.

Grass and darkness.

Author's Note

To learn more about the apocrymantic corpus, be sure to read Section XII, Subsection XXVII of Gloaming Glimmer's Sorcerological Compendium.