“There it is!” Rarity shouted, sending a frightened spark at the chaise lounge. The stool she was on rocked as she struggled to keep her balance. “Oh Sweetie, didn’t you see it?”
“No,” Sweetie Belle said, as she studied the one piece of furniture best fit for melodrama. “I didn’t see anything.”
Rarity squealed as she trotted in place, her hooves tapping out a tattoo of terror against the wooden stool. “Sweetie! Lift the cushion! I’ll... I’ll defeat the spider myself!”
Sweetie Belle struggled against her desire to roll eyes and heave sighs at her sister. “Okay Rarity,” Sweetie Belle said, concentrating her magic. Adventures with her friends, usually ending in dirt, scrapes, and scares, had toughened her up to the point where spiders didn’t scare her so much.
“Count me down,” Sweetie Belle said, her eyes squinting as if they were shutters to hold in her magic. Her horn glowed.
“Count of three!” Rarity said, her voice cracking with anxiety. “One... AAAH!”
The spider blasted the cushion across the room. The smoking fabric hit the wall with a crunch and landed in a smoldering pile of white cotton. A comet’s tail of goose down, marking the flaming path of the cushion, began its slow and expensive fall to the floor (expensive, because the Union of Geese Upholsterers charged premium prices for their down).
Sweetie Belle squealed in surprise and blindly released her magic, a tea green spark streaking toward the golden spider, its incoming doom reflected in eight emerald eyes.
The spider leapt away before the spark hit, and crashed onto Rarity’s head. Rarity screamed, and tumbled from the stool, hitting the carpeted floor with a doughy thump.
“Rarity!” Sweetie Belle squeaked, as she dashed toward her sister. She prodded her sister’s withers, and then hooked her hooves over Rarity’s barrel, struggling to turn her over. “Rarity! Are you okay!”
Rarity moaned in response, and rolled onto her hooves. She righted herself, and fluffed her mane; an automatic response done without self-awareness.
Sweetie Belle’s eyes glistened with tears. “Rarity, are you hurt?”
Rarity shook her head as her eyes focused. “No, I feel fine,” she said cautiously, as she began checking herself for any signs of damage (cosmetic first, and then she moved joints and stretched muscles to make sure nothing was broken).
“Oh Rarity, I got scared and blasted that spider, and it jumped toward y-” Sweetie Belle squeaked out a gasp. “The spider! I didn’t see where it went!”
“Don’t worry about it, Sweetie,” Rarity said with a grin. “I feel too fine to worry about that thing.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re okay!” Sweetie Belle said, hugging her sister. “I’m so sorry I messed up!”
“Oh Sweetie,” Rarity said tenderly, as she held Sweetie Belle to study her face. “I forgive you.”
A wind blew into the room from the open window, and it whirled the goose down above Rarity’s head. The morning sunlight stole in, and the wispy down burned with a fiery light.
Sweetie Belle shivered in ecstasy, the room swollen to a dot on her perceptions as the golden light washed over her. It was gone, and she gasped. “What happened?”
“I... I don’t know!” Rarity said, eyes wide as she looked around the room. She inhaled excitedly and rubbed her chest. “It feels like... like I took something... that...”
“I feel like... fun!” Sweetie Belle said, pronging in to the air as her ears twitched. “Like a weight got taken away!”
“So odd, as if I had done a great deed,” Rarity said. She giggled. “What is this feeling?”
Sweetie Belle stopped pronging, and looked at her sister as a Eureka budded in her head.
“Rarity, I’m the one that stole your cashmere. I was helping Applebloom. I’m sorry I did that.”
“Well, I suspected it was you,” Rarity said with an arched eyebrow. Who else would have done it, she thought. “But you were trying to help your friends. Please ask me next time, but I’ll forgive you for now.”
The same feelings of ecstasy and calm passed through them.
“It happened again!” Sweetie Belle said.
Rarity sat hard on her haunches, mouth open as she worked through feelings stirring in her heart. “I forgive ponies,” Rarity said, “and it makes them stop feeling guilty?” Her civic virtue class had been a long time ago, and she had to hunt through her memory for any sort of description on what was happening.
Sweetie Belle leapt toward her. “Try this one!” She cleared her throat. “I accidentally broke Spike’s trebuchet, and didn’t tell anyone. I’m sorry.” She made this confession with grins and giggles, and watched her sister with gleeful expectation.
“Sweetie Belle,” Rarity said, “it seems you’ve been up to a lot of mischief-”
“But do you forgive me?” Sweetie Belle blurted.
“How could I? You should be asking Spike-”
“Just forgive me! See what happens!”
Rarity knew where this was going and disapproved of it, but decided to follow along anyway. “I forgive you.”
The feelings once again surged within them.
Sweetie Belle watched her sister with reverence. “You’re amazing,” she said.
I don’t think this is right, Rarity thought. Did that spider bite me and cause this? I need to see Twilight, but while she was thinking this, another thought that was like a still small voice spoke inside her.
She looked at her sister, seeing the joy and contentment on her face, and she looked inside herself, feeling the calmness like still waters; her generous spirit surged forth, and she thought of Ponyville outside her doors.
“I need to forgive everyone,” Rarity said. “So they can lose their burden of,” the voice spoke inside her again, “sin!”
Sweetie Belle wrinkled her snout. “What’s ‘sin’?”
Rarity rushed to the door and grabbed a black mantle with a scarlet inlay from the coat rack, specially designed to protect from winter’s bite. “Sweetie Belle! I have to go out now. Please be a dear and clean up this mess!” Rarity burst through her doors, her magic turning the shop sign to ‘closed’.
“Oh, all right,” Sweetie Belle said with a huff.
Spike sighed as he re-read the same panel in the latest issue of Power Ponies. His immersion was destroyed by the violent clattering of hooves against marble ringing throughout the castle, rising and lowering in volume as they galloped. He figured it was Twilight—though why she’d be running instead of flying was a mystery—about to pounce into his room and demand he follow her to the map room.
He tossed the comic on the floor, not bothering to pull back his arm as it hung over the edge of his bed.
“You could just call for me, you know,” he shouted.
“Spike!” Applejack shouted.
“Applejack?”
The door burst open, smacking against the wall as Applejack, eyes wide, lunged into his room with such speed that the edges of her scarf jerked forward in the momentum. Spike jumped out of his bed.
“Spike! Take a letter!”
“Uh, okay?” Spike dashed over to his table and pulled open a drawer, grabbing a piece of paper and quill set. Applejack continually scanned the hallway with frantic eyes.
Spike set up his writing kit on the table, as a new clattering of hooves spilled into the castle. Applejack closed the door with a touch so gentle that maternity nurses would be jealous.
“Spike, I’m gonna have to ask you to trust me,” Applejack whispered. “Don’t give away where I’m at!”
“What’s going on?”
“Applejack!” Twilight shouted, from within the castle.
Applejack lunged toward Spike and stuffed a hoof in his open mouth. “Tell Celestia to help us, now!” Applejack said. “Write it down!”
Spike delicately spat when Applejack removed her hoof. He eyed her suspiciously, but scrawled out Applejack’s request.
Applejack peered over Spike’s shoulder, and scowled. “Why’d you write it like that?”
“That’s what you said!”
“Darn it Spike, it ain’t supposed to be literal!” Applejack said.
“Look, Celestia will get the point-”
Spike’s door blasted open, the thunderous smack causing Applejack and Spike to jump.
“Get away from him!” Twilight said, her lit horn lighting the anger on her face. Behind her, Rarity gasped and stepped forward.
"If you’ve hurt one-”
“Send it, Spike!” Applejack said.
Normally, Spike would wait on Twilight, no questions asked (not to mention Rarity was with her), but if Applejack wanted Celestia here, then surely the princess would sort things out. He rolled up the scroll.
“Get away from him!” Twilight shouted, and she blasted a stun spell at Applejack. Applejack rolled out of the way, butted a yelping Spike into the air and onto her back, and leapt out of the open window. The scroll plopped to the floor, rolling until it stopped at his bed.
Twilight growled, and with a flap of her wings, dove after them.
“Well,” Rarity said, eyeing the window as if Twilight’s afterimage was still there. She used her magic to levitate the scroll, opened it, and read Spike’s elegant writing.
I wish Spike had sent this, Rarity thought, not hearing the yelp and crash outside. Celestia would have settled this problem once and for all.
She trotted out of Spike’s room and headed downstairs, aiming at the foyer so she could exit this frankly garish castle, a secret opinion she’d never reveal because she didn’t want to hurt Twilight’s feelings, but goodness me what was harmony thinking using these protruding-
The entrance doors burst open as Twilight flew in, her mouth an embarrassed smirk.
“I lost them,” she said.
...
Spike had to admire Applejack’s tactical daring. While in free-fall from the second story of the castle, she bit the edge of her scarf and detangled it from her neck, letting it float behind her like a lost banner. Twilight dove right into it, the scarf smacking her in the face and blinding her. The instant Applejack hit ground, instead of running to Ponyville, she ran back into the castle, galloping through the map room and kitchen, leaping over the preparation island instead of going around it. She exited through the service entrance and tore up clods of grass as she galloped toward Ponyville.
Spike constantly checked behind him, craning his head as much as he could while keeping a tight grip on Applejack’s barrel, but after Twilight crashed head-first into the ground, he didn’t see her following them again. A confused guilt was waving in his chest, since it was Twilight he was supposed to be helping (he wasn’t worried about the crash—that wouldn’t ever hurt her). The idea of shouting for Twilight made it as far as his throat, but he chose not to let it pass through his lips. If Applejack wanted Celestia, then maybe something strange really was going on after all.
So Applejack ducked into the alley between the Flower Trio’s Shoppe and Spoons and Pillows. The alley was pungent with the perfume of lilies and roses, a heady smell that was almost decadent, and Spike grimaced as he rolled off of Applejack’s back—she was sneaking a peak over the edge of the flower shoppe wall, watching an angry crowd gathered in front of Linky’s house—and hacked, keeping his mouth closed so no one would hear. He figured they probably wouldn’t, though—they were too busy being angry at Linky, for some reason.
“Alright Spike, we need paper and quill,” Applejack whispered, turning to face him while her ears swiveled to cover both exits of the alley. “So I reckon we need to make haste to Sofa & Quills to get what you need.”
Spike tapped the side of the building, the stucco pleasantly rough against his palm. “Why go all the way over there? I’m pretty sure Roseluck and them have the writing utensils we need.” He sauntered past Applejack, walking out into the street. “I’ll just go in-”
Applejack grabbed Spike and pulled him back into the alley. “What do you think you’re doing! They’ll see you!”
“Yeah, me,” Spike said, jerking a thumb at his chest. “You stay here and hide.”
“It ain’t gonna work, Spike,” Applejack said. “They’ll get you too and I won’t have any way to get to Celestia unless I hoof it to Canterlot.”
Spike rubbed the bridge of his snout with forefinger and thumb; a wonderful expression of annoyance and impatience that ponies would never be able to duplicate. “Applejack, how about you start at the beginning and tell me what’s going on here?”
Applejack quickly surveyed both ends of the alley. “Alright, it happened this afternoon…”
...
Applejack had finished her deposit at the bank when she noticed most of Ponyville heading for the marketplace. She paid them no mind and sauntered onward toward the farm, until the gentle trill of Rarity’s voice wafted over her. She arched an eyebrow and changed course for the marketplace.
She pushed into the crowd of ponies wearing scarves and hats, aiming for the center. She had to push fairly hard, as ponies pressed their bodies against each other for warmth, their naturally affectionate nature enjoying the closeness. Applejack had a scarf and her hat, which was ward enough against the cold.
“-does it mean we’re full of triangles?” Lyra said.
Applejack didn’t try to think too hard about what that meant. She heard Bon Bon groan, and Applejack could just imagine her rolling her eyes.
“What?” Lyra said.
Applejack pushed to the edge, and saw Rarity, wearing a black mantle. Her horn was lit in an amplification spell, one honed from many a fashion show. Applejack was behind Rarity now, and, as always, smiled (on the inside) when seeing her.
“Sin is when you fall short of harmony, generally through willfulness,” Rarity said, her voice taking on the bright tone of a school teacher. “It separates you from your fellow ponies and from harmony itself.”
Murmuring arose from the crowd. To a social species like ponies, being separated from each other was a horrible fate.
Applejack, meanwhile, scowled at this weirdness coming from Rarity. She scanned the crowd and found Pinkie Pie up front, stone still, drenched in sweat despite the cold. Now what got into her, Applejack thought. Otherwise, the majority of ponies were completely mesmerized by Rarity... well, except for a handful of earth ponies. I guess we’re just skeptical like that, Applejack thought.
“Okay, how do we make sin, then?” Lyra asked.
“We can’t help but make sin,” Rarity said, her words turning to vapor in the cold air. “All ponies have a sinful nature, which impels us to do wrong. You must confess your sins, because if you don’t”, and here Rarity squinted, cocking her head as if listening carefully, the hood on her mantle waving with the cold wind. “You face the eternal separation.”
Gasps rocketed throughout the crowd. “That sounds horrible,” someone said.
“It is the most horrible thing,” Rarity said, a crack entering her tone now, like a fissure leading to dark places underground. “I’m sorry to reveal these truths to you, my little ponies, but the highest stakes are involved in admitting sin and receiving grace.”
“Grace?” Thunderlane said, flapping above the crowd. His querying glance at Rain Drops was met with a shrug. “What is that? I mean, why would we want it?”
“Grace is the state of harmony provided by the... by confessing your sins to the advocate,” Rarity said. “I am the advocate, but I’m sure everypony can become one.”
“It was me!” Pinkie Pie shouted, her voice rank with terror. “I was the one that used the Cake’s icing for my personal cupcakes!” Pinkie flung herself in front of Rarity, sliding forward on her hindlegs, gaskins rubbing the cobblestone, as ponies scrambled to not get bowled over by her guilty hysteria.
The Cakes, near the back of the crowd, looked at each other in confusion. “Didn’t she always do that?” Ms. Cake asked.
Rarity stepped forward, and sat in front of Pinkie, smiling at her quivering lower lip. “Darling Pinkie,” she said, holding her cheeks with her hooves. “I forgive you.”
“Wowwwww!” Pinkie said, eyes open in wonder, as she stood up from her prone position. Her mouth grew into a huge grin, almost unsettling in its intensity.
Ponies close to Pinkie looked at each other in anticipation, hoping for some kind of validation from each other for what just surged through them.
“You felt that, right?" Medley said, talking to Sea Swirl. “I wasn’t the only one?”
“What you feel is harmony working its grace through Pinkie,” Rarity said. “Her sins have been lifted from her.”
“I hid Bon Bon’s shawl from her and forgot about it!” Lyra said, stepping forward. “I feel so bad about it!”
“Shouldn’t you be apologizing to me?” Bon Bon said.
“I forgive you, Lyra,” Rarity said.
The spirit passed between them, and Lyra gasped as she held her hooves to her chest. Her eyes moistened. “It’s... it’s real!”
And now the crowd surged forward as one, ponies shouting their transgressions to Rarity, each time Rarity imparting forgiveness.
“I fudged my numbers on the Kestrel Run,” Thunderlane said. “I’m sorry I did that!”
“You are forgiven, Thunderlane,” Rarity said, and Thunderlane looped while whooping in joy.
“I’m sorry I made a mean face at Blossomforth!”
“I didn’t mean to steal those cherries, I’m so sorry!”
“I lied about liking my daughter’s gazpacho, but I didn’t want to get into a big argument! It’s been bothering me ever since!”
Rarity forgave each one, unconditionally.
Applejack pushed herself around the confines of the crowd, scrutinizing Rarity’s face. Applejack didn’t want to say Rarity seemed off, but she was... blissed out? Like how she acted if she won a fashion contest, but more intense. And what she was saying sounded crazy; Applejack was aware that sin was a foreign word that meant the same thing as mistake (at least it did to ponies), but Rarity was adding a whole lot of weirdness to it.
Linky pushed to the front of the crowd. “I stole Golden Harvest’s fertilizer and made bombs out of it.”
“What?” Golden Harvest shouted, lighting on Linky’s ornery cornflower-blue hide.
“Your sins are forgiven,” Rarity said.
Nothing happened.
“Oh, I’m not sorry,” Linky said, grinning at Rarity’s confusion. “I was bragging.” She then launched herself through the crowd as Golden chased after her, shouting promises of payback, as Linky’s “Whoop-whoop-whoop!” floated away like a fading klaxon.
“Rarity, what’s going on here?” Twilight landed in front of Rarity, wearing a scarf and ski cap. Twilight didn’t feel cold like she used to, thanks to alicornhood inuring her to the weather. However, her ascension didn’t get rid of that girlish streak that liked dressing up.
“Twilight!” Rarity said, as she bounded forward and wrapped her hooves around Twilight’s neck. “I’m so glad you came! I’m sure you have many questions.” Rarity did a double take when she saw Applejack. “Why darling, just how long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to-” and she was cut off by Rarity throwing her hooves around her. After a moment of disbelief, Applejack hugged back. Despite the warm and pillowy feelings that came with affection from her friends, the intensity and suddenness of a hug—from Rarity of all ponies—sprouted suspicion in her heart.
Twilight and Applejack exchanged greetings full of shifty looks. Pinkie had gone off somewhere after she was forgiven.
Twilight cleared her throat as an attention getting measure. “I was wondering where you read about those Griffintonian concepts? I mean, sin and grace doesn’t have any cultural milieu for ponies, so I have to say it’s... interesting how you adapted them to them. Us.” Twilight let out a nervous laugh followed by a forced smile.
“Twilight, I had never heard of those terms until this morning, when Harmony put her spirit inside me to guide my fellow ponies.”
“Uh... okay?”
“My, it sounds so salacious, doesn’t it?” Rarity said with an elegant giggle. “Pardon me.”
“So, what do you think, Twilight?” Applejack said. “Sounds mighty crazy, don’t it?”
“Oh Applejack, why do you have to be so suspicious?” Rarity said. “Just try it. Confess some heavy sin that’s burdening you.”
“I ain’t got any sins,” Applejack said with a huff. “It’s just a saying, it don’t mean nothing real anyway.”
Somepony shouted. “My sins aren’t going to forgive themselves!”
“Yeah, I just committed a new one!” Lyra said. “I can’t wait for you to fill me up with grace!”
“Sorry my ponies, it seems there are some who doubt the spirit.”
Gasps erupted. “Is it the princess?” someone shouted.
Rarity’s muzzle scrunched as she rubbed behind her ear, as if attempting to dislodge a fly. “I didn’t mean that to sound so... accusatory,” Rarity said. She sat on her haunches, her ears flattening with distress.
“Rarity?” Applejack said, stepping forward. “Are you okay?” Twilight placed a hoof on Rarity’s withers.
Rarity tried to divide her focus between Applejack and Twilight. “I’m suddenly very tired,” she said. She used her hooves to fold her hood over her head.
“Alright everybody, Rarity’s tired!” Pinkie shouted, suddenly wearing a dark mantle to match Rarity’s own. “Everybody break it up, give the savior a little rest!”
A disappointed ‘aw’ rose from the crowd, but they followed Pinkie’s orders.
“Let’s go to the Haystack and get a bite to eat,” Twilight said. “And then maybe you could tell us how all this started.”
...
The three sat at the outside table, all plates empty except for Applejack, who was busy finding new ways to arrange the leftovers of her daisy sandwich. Rarity held court as she finished up her story of discovering her ability to impart forgiveness.
“I’ve never heard of a spider like that,” Twilight said.
“Oh Twilight, I knew you’d get stuck on that,” Rarity said.
“Well... think about it. It landed on you, it disappeared. Obviously it has something to do with your current... uh, enlightenment, don’t you think? Maybe some new kind of venom-”
“But Twilight, why would it?” Rarity said “Correlation doesn’t imply causation. That’s what you’ve said before, right?”
Twilight stuttered an acknowledgment as embarrassment flooded her face.
“Oh Twilight, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Rarity said, reaching out a well-manicured hoof to grasp Twilight’s jagged hoof, eroded from nervous biting.
“No, that’s fine,” Twilight said, her nervous body relaxing at the pleasant physical contact. “I need to be reminded when I’ve committed an error of reason.”
Applejack fidgeting in her seat, awash with the uncomfortable feelings of a loved one taking a long trip, as if Rarity was far awhile despite her body still being here. She wished Rainbow Dash was here with her; she’d back her up. However, Rainbow had gone to Cloudsdale to watch a wingball game, and had taken Fluttershy with her.
Applejack leaned back in her chair. “I’m not buying it.”
“Why on earth not?”
“Cuz it’s crazy,” Applejack said. She tipped her hat back and leaned forward, dropping a foreleg on the table, the dishes clattering like a muted cymbal. “So I’ve done something wrong, but instead of apologizing to whoever or whatever needs it, I go to you and it suddenly gets cleared? I never had to do that before, so why now?”
“Well, of course you’d want to apologize to whomever you wronged,” Rarity said, her prissy nature getting the better of her as she emphasized ‘whom’. “The point, however, is the separation of yourself from harmony.”
“Which has never been a problem before in pony history,” Applejack said. “If I may be so bold.”
“As far as I know, that’s right,” Twilight said.
“I mean, you got ponies running around now worrying about being sinful and getting that eternal separation. The whole thing just sounds so out there, like a mean fairy tale.”
“Applejack, Twilight, this is a new era,” Rarity said. “This is about... about faith, and feelings. Feelings wonderful and terrible. Stop trying to understand this from a rational,” she nodded at Twilight, “or a historical viewpoint.” She finished with a nod toward Applejack. “You must take a leap of faith.”
In the silence that followed Rarity’s announcement of a new era, a silence where Twilight was pensive and Applejack skeptical, Pinkie’s sing-song ‘You are forgiven’ trilled in the distance. Rarity grinned happily; the spirit was in Pinkie as well.
Twilight sighed. “Okay, I’ll try it. I’ll take a leap of faith.”
Rarity beamed. “Wonderful Twilight! I’m so grateful you’ve decided to join us. Please believe me, any temporary embarrassment you may experience will be more than superseded by the grace of harmony’s light.”
“Thanks, Rarity,” Twilight said. She glanced around the table; Rarity expectant, Applejack maybe a little too curious for Twilight’s liking. Twilight smiled reassuringly, though the smiled seemed more for herself.
Twilight closed her eyes and sighed. “I lied to get out of substituting for Cheerilee’s class, just because I wanted to keep reading about the development of table manners in high Zebra society.”
Rarity smiled. “I forgive you, Twilight.”
Twilight’s wings flung open as she levitated, her mouth wide as a shocking, almost sensual moan escaped her lips. Soft light radiated from her body like lines from a fishing reel, casting into Ponyville and hooking all.
Rarity and Applejack levitated with her, Rarity’s body contorting into an ecstatic pose, chin raised, mouth open, eyes closed; Applejack’s chest heaved with each thudding gasp, the touch of the divine overpowering her confusion.
The three slowly lowered to the ground, as most of Ponyville’s inhabitants cantered over.
“I can feel it, Rarity,” Twilight said in a milky whisper, thick and smooth. “I can feel it within me!”
Rarity was too shaken to respond. She could only stare at Twilight through the vibrations of her beating heart.
“My goodness, Twilight! It chose you! Just like it chose Pinkie!”
From the encircling crowd Pinkie rushed in and scooped Twilight and Rarity into her forelegs. “This is super duper awesome! We can be sisters of mercy, flooding the land, spreading dominion-”
“That ain’t right,” Applejack said, her stony face piercing through the afterglow of grace. “It ain’t supposed to be like that.”
Applejack and Rarity, mouths hanging opened, stared at Applejack. The majority of the crowd exchanged whispers and glances.
“But what do you mean?” Pinkie said, as she squeezed herself between Rarity and Twilight. “Being filled with grace fills good!”
“But look at what happens afterward!” Applejack said. She pointed at a group of ponies edging around the perimeter of the cafe, worried expressions on all. “You told them ponies are naturally sinful, and now they want forgiveness all the time! How is that supposed to be healthy?”
“But Applejack, that’s how grace works,” Rarity said. “You have to always be aware of your sinful condition, and work toward grace with...” Rarity touched her temple, “with fear and trembling.”
Applejack reared back in distress. “So you gotta live in fear of being sinful all the time and falling into eternal separation? How’s that any way to live?”
“Applejack! You’re being stubborn!” Rarity said.
“No I ain’t. Ya’ll done turned something that’s supposed to be simple and straightforward into some big production, dumping a whole bunch of... of middle-mare stuff into it, complicating it up. Feelings like these... I don’t trust ‘em.”
Applejack faltered; her three friends looked incredibly sad, ridiculously so. It was if her disagreement was a horrendous personal insult, and even a rejection of them personally. She studied the three carefully. “Ya’ll don’t think something fishy is going on here?”
Twilight shook her head. “The only fishy thing here is your rejection of harmony.”
Applejack’s hackles raised. She stood straight up from her chair and forced herself to relax, keeping her limbs lose and ready. “I’ll say it again; this ain’t right. Just because I don’t want it doesn’t mean ya’ll should be acting toward me this way.”
“You... you can’t be in Ponyville anymore,” Twilight said, mournfully.
Applejack stomped her hoof. “Are you crazy? Are you listening to yourself? All of ya’ll’ve been taken over,” Applejack said, turning to Rarity. “That spider must’ve bit you, and it’s passing its poison on!”
“That spider was the manifestation of harmony’s spirit! How could you say such... blasphemous things, Applejack?” Rarity’s bottom lip quivered.
“Look, I don’t know about harmony, but saying ponies’ are always sinful no matter what? Ain’t that just the most hateful thing?”
“Enough!” Twilight shouted, her wings flaring, lips curled back in anger.
And that’s when Applejack made a run for it.
...
“I didn’t want to stand there trying to argue with them, especially with Twilight—whatever’s got Twilight, I mean—getting madder and madder,” Applejack said, finishing her story. “The instant I thought of getting Celestia I made a run for it, and that’s that.”
Spike was sitting on the closed dumpster, his arms crossed as he leaned against Spoons and Pillows. “That sounds really awful,” Spike said. “I mean, at first, it didn’t seem so bad, but having to be constantly anxious about being sinful... hey, do you think that stuff would work on dragons?”
“Do you want to find out?” Applejack said.
“Nope,” Spike said. He hopped off of the dumpster. “Alright. You don’t want me going in public because you’re afraid I’ll get turned over, and I’m afraid too. But why all the way to Sofa and Quills?”
“Well, he’s away right now,” Applejack said, marking her hoof against the ground.
“Listen, if they’re looking for you right now, then why not run back to the castle and let me send that letter?”
Applejack perked up at that. “That’d be a shorter run. Too risky though.”
“Applejack, we know Twilight’s out looking for you, and if she isn’t at the castle, and if I’m not at the castle, then no one is at the castle.” Except for that one time Starlight Glimmer was there, but Spike didn’t see the need to bring that up.
Applejack popped her neck, first right, then left. “Alright Spike. I wanna pick up my scarf anyway.”
“All right!” Spike said. He hopped on Applejack’s back. Applejack skulked to the other end of the alley, searched the path the best she could without exposing herself and Spike, and readied herself for launch.
“Count of three,” she whispered, feeling Spike’s claws tighten around her. “One-”
“Applejack!” Twilight shouted. She landed with a thud at the exit of the alley, dust clouding from the impact of her landing. “Spike! Get away from her right now!”
Applejack had already turned and headed for the other end of the alley. Rarity attempted to block her, but she leapt over her, and ran into the crowd in front of Linky’s house.
“There’s the heretic!” Pokey Pierce shouted. “Stop her before she darns us all!”
Magic grabbed her rear hoof, holding her as she smashed into the ground. Spike was flicked away and rolled into a street lamp, vibrating with a sour chord. Spike was woozy, and though Applejack knew he was a tough guy, she couldn’t help but be worried for him.
“Spike!” Rarity said, galloping toward him. “What did she do to you?”
“Are you blind? He grabbed me!” Applejack cocked her head toward Pokey.
“Don’t even look at me,” Pokey said, fear and disgust pulling his lips back in a snarl. “You rejected grace! How could you do such a thing?”
“Stop, please,” Twilight said. A tremor of confusion crossed her face, and Applejack saw it.
“Twilight, does this really feel right to you? How about you get Celestia over here and let her sort this out?” Applejack jerked her rear hooves, one in Pokey’s magic grip, the other in Lyra’s. Neither gave way.
“There’s nothing to sort out,” Twilight said. “Celestia will agree with me, and she’ll receive forgiveness for her sins as well.”
And now Applejack froze, as she hadn’t even considered the possibility that even Celestia could be turned over to this. She made a quick glance at Spike, who didn’t seem to have heard; he was too busy being the object of Rarity’s concern.
“Keep her pinned,” Twilight said, flying over to Spike.
“Twilight, this might be... unorthodox,” Rarity said while Twilight probed Spike with her magic. “But perhaps we could give her the spirit? Maybe it’ll prevent her from being cut off.”
“A forced conversion?” Twilight said. Satisfied that Spike was only woozy, she stopped her probing and turned to Applejack with a mournful look. “It’s worth a try,” she whispered, her quiet tone shaky with concern.
“We’ll do it together,” Rarity said.
“No, you’re gonna get Celestia first. And Luna,” Applejack said, pushing against the bounds holding her down.
“But why?” Rarity said. “Darling, we know we’re right. You’ll see soon enough.”
Both horns lit. Applejack glared in defiance, faking an anger she didn’t feel to hide her fear.
Boy, I sure could use a last minute save right about now.
...
The weirding chamber opened with a hiss as the cosmogony fluid spilled out and drained into the grates. Celestia stumbled away from the chamber’s iron teeth, open like a monster’s mouth, and Luna’s magic caught her with a breezy touch.
“Feel better, sister?” Luna said.
“Dizzy, but good,” Celestia said with a wry smile. “I really shouldn’t have postponed my recalibration for so long.”
“As I have previously stated. Many times,” Luna said.
Celestia offered a meek nod as an apology while Luna used her magic to assist Celestia to the shower. Luna’s magic twisted the knobs, and the spray washed the fluid from Celestia’s mane and coat. Celestia closed her eyes and pushed her muzzle into the hot spray, moving her head back and forth as she let the water pinprick her cheeks. The water ran off into the grates, washing away any fluid left over from the open chamber. Steam filled the room.
Satisfied that the smell of chalk and citrus was washed away from her body, and checking that no orange discoloration was present on her coat, Celestia used her magic to turn off the knobs. A simple spell later, and she was fully dry.
“Luna, would you mind filling me in on what I’ve missed the past two days?”
“With pleasure,” Luna said, with theatrical relief. “The Yaks are an irritating sort.”
Celestia was about to teleport Luna and herself out of the recalibration room—it had no entrance or exit but through magic, being hundreds of kilometers underneath Canterlot, with the plumbing system leading from an underground reservoir and the draining system leading to the center of the planet—when Celestia stopped, rigid, and slowly turned to Luna.
“Oh yes, the ‘something terrible has happened’ look, what a pleasant surprise,” Luna said.
“I believe the pyx is empty,” Celestia said.
Luna stiffened. “Allow me to check, please.”
Celestia lowered her head, and touched horns. After the encryption spells were accepted, Luna was in Celestia’s mind palace.
Both sisters used the method of loci to far greater effect than their little ponies. It wasn’t just a method of memorization, but a storage facility for artifacts not meant to exist on the physical plane, due either to impossibility or danger.
Luna passed through several rooms, paneled with oak and gilded with gold, containing items such as the Subliminal Kid (an immortal goat that ponies only noticed when it wasn’t there-but it had to be there in the first place) standing in its cage while mindlessly eating wheat, a bop gun (targets would engage in uncontrollably funky dancing), and an odd metallic beeping device divination had revealed to be an ‘oscillation overthruster’, whatever that meant. Luna and Celestia hadn’t quite figured out its usage.
Luna passed these items as she headed to the location of the first artifact Celestia had acquired on Equestria.
The lid of the pyx was tragically on the floor. The pyx itself was tragically empty.
Luna cast the re-encryption spell and exited Celestia’s mind palace.
“It’s gone,” Luna said. She huffed. “We’ll find it easily enough, when the reports come in.”
“It’s in Ponyville,” Celestia said.
“How do you know?”
Celestia answered with a vampish grin and arched eyebrows.
Luna rolled her eyes. “Oh, of course. It’s always our weird sink.”
“And that’s why I set it up that way,” Celestia said. They teleported away.
...
A flash of light, ponies throwing forelegs over their eyes, and Celestia and Luna appearing in the midst of it. They cast their spells quickly, shafts of light like burning magnesium passing through ponies with a gentle caress.
Applejack squinted, quick to jump to her hooves when Lyra and Pokey lost their magical grip. Spike had enough presence of mind to cover his own eyes.
A tornado of vacuum, the point at the base of Rarity’s horn, whirled and expanded from Celestia. A golden spider, emerald eyes blinking, legs waving frantically, was pulled from Rarity’s head. It traveled through the widening gyre straight to Celestia. A spiral of smoky red light sprang from Celestia’s forehead like a ray gun blast, and the spider disappeared into it. It was placed back in its pyx, and Celestia closed the lid.
Rarity sat down hard, her hooves pressing into her temples. The small still voice was gone, and Rarity now saw her past actions and thoughts with a clarity no longer smudged with the spider’s messages.
“What was I doing!” Rarity shouted. Twilight’s lip trembled, her body shaking. She spared one look at Applejack, shook her head, and looked away.
“My dears,” Celestia said, quickly discerning the situation. “None of this was your fault. Please meet me at the castle, and I’ll explain everything, at least as soon as Luna arrives.”
Gently, Celestia used her wings to both comfort and herd Rarity and Twilight from their shame. Luna, meanwhile, gave instructions to Mayor Mare, and encouraged the ponies present to be with their loved ones right now. They were fine words, but Twilight and Rarity didn’t stay long enough to hear the full speech.
Pinkie hopped behind Celestia, apparently not as crestfallen as her two sisters of mercy. Applejack and Spike followed close behind.
...
Once inside the castle, Applejack made haste to nuzzle Twilight and Rarity, giving them the comfort they needed.
“Applejack,” Rarity started, “I’m so-”
“Nope, don’t want to hear ‘I’m sorry’ for a long time,” Applejack said. That, at least, got a chuckle out of Twilight and a smile out of Rarity.
Luna entered, and Twilight didn’t hesitate to start questioning.
“What’s going on here? What was that spider that came out of Rarity’s head?”
“Goodness me, must you describe it like that?” Rarity said.
“I’m afraid simple explanations will make little sense, Sparkle,” Luna said.
“It’s the paraclete,” Celestia said.
Twilight’s head bounded backwards as she tried to decipher the new word. “The paraclete?” she said, at the same time as her friends did.
“Yes. It was the weapon of the previous inhabitant of our land. He used it to gain followers from his home planet.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up,” Spike said, as he pushed in front of Pinkie. Twilight wished Spike would be a little more courteous to the Princess, but she knew Celestia didn’t mind the familiarity. “Are you saying it’s some kind of alien?”
“Indeed, Spike,” Luna said, as she sauntered over to the group, her slippers clicking on the marble floor, filling the room with a strangely lulling hollow sound. “What we gathered is that his former followers kicked him out.”
“Aliens,” Spike said, grinning as he surveyed his pony friends. “That’s so awesome.” He pointed at Twilight. “Don’t pretend you’re not curious, because I know you are.”
“I’m very curious, Spike,” Twilight said. “It’s just... there’s so many questions! I don’t know where to start.”
“Well, here are the basics,” Celestia said. “This being was very powerful, and a tremendous neighcissist. He had brought with him many, many writings about himself, even negative critical ones, and nothing else. Luna and I would steal into his library while he was roving about the planet to copy and read his books. We had to use divination spells to understand the contents.”
“What was his name?” Pinkie asked. Rarity smirked; she couldn't help but think of Pinkie trying to throw a welcoming party for this being.
“He had thousands upon thousands of names,” Celestia said. “We chose a name fom him that came from one of his critics. We called him Nobodaddy.”
Luna smiled at the memory. “He hated that name.”
“Oooh, did you call him that to his face?” Pinkie said, bouncing in place. Her behavior was a marked contrast to the still glum Twilight Sparkle and Rarity. “I bet he got real mad and tried to fight you!”
“It came to that,” Celestia said. “He came in early and caught us reading his works. He cursed us and attacked.”
“We battled for the rest of the evening,” Luna said. “He used his paraclete against us. It’s a powerful psychic weapon.”
Celestia paced around the main table, her slippers tapping the floor with a sound like two champagne classes clinking a toast. “Its main purpose is to induce a vicious codependent relationship between its target and Nobodaddy. It manipulates emotions, especially insecurity, guilt, and fear, and induces magical thinking.”
“That’s such a strange function,” Twilight said.
“Yeah, not very cool, though,” Spike said, obviously losing interest in what the alien had to offer. “It doesn’t blast buildings into smithereens, or anything awesome like that.”
“That would probably be less sadistic,” Celestia said. “I’ll spare you the details, but after I feigned being affected by the weapon—he’s so full of himself that he didn’t even question if I was sincere—Luna delivered... Luna defeated him.”
“I super-heated my horn-”
“Spare. The details.” Celestia said. Luna faked prissy irritation, pursing her lips and flinging her gaze upward.
So they killed him, Twilight thought, a chill striking her spine. She knew enough about the history of early civilization, before even the three tribes were united within themselves, to have learned of Luna’s and Celestia’s underground work in forging a peaceful land. They had been forced to kill then, and while Twilight understood it on an intellectual level, the thought of these dear teachers and friends as rampaging warriors left her emotions in turmoil.
“The paraclete disappeared, and we paid it no mind,” Celestia said. “We saw it as helpless without its creator directing it, and we had our own wounds to attend to. Decades later, following some rumors, we discovered that it had made a home in Griffon territories, where it had set up a belief system known as religion.”
“I’ve heard of that word before,” Twilight said, academic interest always at the forefront of her thoughts. “When I was reading about that period in Griffon history.”
“Yes, Celestia doesn’t believe in purging history,” Luna said, straight lipped. Twilight couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. Celestia didn’t comment on it.
“I excised the paraclete from its host, and stored it in the safest place I could put it.”
“Why not just stomp it like a bug?” Applejack asked. “Why keep it?” She tried not to sound accusatory, but based on what she went through today, Applejack was appalled that they let it live.
“Because, in its own way, it’s an innocent victim. It can’t help what it is, just as a physical spider can’t help what it is. I couldn’t bring myself to destroy it.”
“I would like to point out that I do not share my sister’s sentimentality, and would have annihilated it on the spot,” Luna said with a sniff.
“At the very least, without its owner, it’s nowhere near as effective or destructive a weapon.”
“That’s hard to imagine,” Rarity said. “It really made a mess of things here.”
“I understand,” Celestia said. “I was indisposed for a period of time, which allowed it to escape.” Celestia approached Rarity, and to Rarity’s flustered surprise, lowered her head to her. “Rarity, I’m sorry this caused you so many problems. It took advantage of your generous nature, and propagated that to the others in turn.”
Rarity was flustered enough that her acknowledgment was a mess of syllables and feelings. But Celestia knew what she meant to say. They all did.
...
Later, when the evening fell into night and painted the sky with the darkest of blues and violets, Rarity and Twilight had a meeting.
Twilight had put Spike to bed earlier, tucking him in with the latest issue of Power Ponies in his claws. She was in the parlor now, using her magic to poke at the ashy logs smoldering on the andirons.
Rarity sat on the rug, her black mantle neatly folded and placed next to her. A mug showing the stains of chocolate was levitating idly; eventually, Rarity moved it to the coffee table, pushing aside the wall of yellowed newspapers and magazines to find space for it.
Here, Twilight and Rarity fought against the howling cold creeping through Ponyville that night.
“I was surprised that Pinkie recovered so quickly, but... well...”
“That’s Pinkie,” Twilight said, with the first authentic laugh she had that late evening.
Twilight joined her on the rug, and sighed. They had discussed the events of the day, and Rarity finally said, in a weak and cracking tone, “We were about to mindrape Applejack.”
“I know,” Twilight said, covering her face with her wings.
“Celestia told us it wasn’t our fault, but if Applejack was able to resist-”
“Maybe we’re weaker than her,” Twilight said, folding her wings back to look apologetically at Rarity. “Mentally. We’re too credulous.” Their close friendship prevented Rarity from taking offense, and Twilight from worrying about giving offense.
“There’s no way you’re weak, darling,” Rarity said. “Perhaps it appealed to your sense of order. A new system to learn and master.”
Twilight rolled on her side, watching the crackling fire, red and orange filling the bricks of the fireplace and spilling out onto the rug, colors dying as they delved deeper into the darkness that filled the rest of the parlor.
“That bliss was overpowering,” Twilight said.
Rarity swallowed. “Yes it was.”
They were talked out for the night, as sleep lowered their eyelids like venetian blinds. Twilight rolled over again so that she and Rarity were cheek-to-cheek, providing the warmth and comfort needed to sleep through the bad feelings the day’s events (and their own choices) had put in them.
They dozed off, and would have slept the night through, except that Linky chose that time to set off her fertilizer bombs. Her whooping laughter echoed throughout Ponyville.
The two ponies roused themselves up, Rarity putting on her mantle while Twilight fought against the crick in her neck.
“Well, if there’s some lesson we can take away from all this,” Rarity said, “it’s that Linky’s a buffoon.”
“She acts like one, anyway,” Twilight said, and the two off them ran into the night to give Linky a good talking-to.
