The After

Chapter Two: Episode Day

“Wake up! Wake up!” The young foal shouted, nudging at his relative’s bed.

“Argghhhuuhhh.” came a groan, turning around to face away from her nephew’s nuzzling shoves.

“Wake up Auntie Sweetie, it’s Episode Day!” A light-yellow, blue-haired foal shouted.

“C’mon!” Kid complained, poking her in the back for the last time. “If we don't’ go now we may not see the whole thing!”
Sweetie Belle mumbled almost incoherently, “We always see the whole thing…”

Pulling a yellow blanket over her body tighter, she rolled over on one side to avoid getting poked in the ribs again, accidentally falling out of her bed with a dazzled “Ahh!”

Getting up, her mind was now fully awake as she blinked frantically, the foal size bed she decided to sleep in clearly to small for her.

“Good, you're up!” Kid rushed to the door excitedly, “Now c’mon or we’re going to miss it!” Kid zoomed out of the room and clattered down the stairs, leaving the door wide open.

Sweetie rubbed her head, throwing the tangled sheets back onto the bed with her magic. Stretching one hoof and then the other, Sweetie Belle prepared for the day ahead of her. She recalled that today would be the second premier Kid had seen in his entire life.

Well, She yawned as she thought, I guess I can’t blame him for being excited.

In fact, she was surprised to see that Kid hadn’t done even more planning in the morning then he did last night. She looked upon his mess of a room, which was normally kept perfectly tidy.

Crayons were sprawled over the bed, the walls were covered with paper notes with arbitrary scribbles of hoofwriting that vaguely resembled schedules, and hero figurines sat knocked-over in miscellaneous piles everywhere.

“Heh-heh.” she smiled, looking over the extent of his “school research”, as he’d claimed the noise was last night.

He is a good kid.

Although she did love the little fella, she hoped today he won’t be too out of hand, recalling the headaches she’d had before.

But she had been a child once, and she smiled at his ambition, and his notes that were sprawled everywhere.

Sweetie looked at the clock on the wall.

8:30. She read. Good. That gives us three and a half hours.

She looked away. Something in the wall caught her attention. The windows were closed. Sweetie-Belle thought about it. She carefully stepped over the toys and papers scattered over the floor, and came to the double panels of the window seal. Pushing on the two wooden doors, she felt the cool draft greet her from the world outside. Her view was filled thatched roofs and soft streets, birds rushing past her vision to accompany the clear sky, the landscape below bright and cheery in the middle of springtime.

“Good morning, Ponyville!” she shouted, leaning out the window-seal.

Despite she knew that was not its real name, it was a custom for her to call it that in this house.

* * *

Kid’s family home was not an original house from MultiQuestria’s first days, but it was built in the classic Ponyvillian style, making it unrecognizable from the other houses in their neighborhood, both old and new. It wasn’t until the tiny sprawl reached New Plane, across from the river, that the architecture began to change.

The house was painted a vibrant yellow and purple that only failed to cover every inch of the walls when they were interrupted by its sparkling glass windows. Shaped like a pyramid atop a cube, the house’s roof was curved on all four-sides, gradually becoming slimmer as it jutted into the air, forming a spiral that merged together at the peak by a golden ball. Attached to the ball, a slightly tattered flag waved in the summer breeze.

Taking a bite out of the house's square-shape, was a small, boxed garden, where daisies and roses grew among gnome decorations, resting in the fresh dirt. On the opposite corner of the house there was a patio that extended from the corner’s walls, marking a two-window section of the house which had been modified to form a small accessory shop that blended right into the sidewalk.

Together, Rarity had been maintaining this shop for a little over a year now.
And while everything on the outside appeared cozy, Kid knew that it was the inside that really mattered, for it was the place where he and his family could call home, and it was a home he loved.

* * *

Rushing into the kitchen while hopping up and down, Kid grinned wildly as he took a seat at the kitchen high stool table for what he hoped would be a short-lived breakfast.

Kid heard the unmistakable yawn of both his parents from atop the stairway, blocked from his vision by the kitchen ceiling. There was the sound of a door closing from atop the stairway, confirming Sweetie Belle was getting ready.

“Good morning Rarity!” Kid overheard Sweetie address his Mom from beyond his sight.
Sweetie added, “Good morning Scarf.”

“Why, good morning Sweetie Belle!” The voice of Rarity greeted with joy, “It’s so good to see you! How are you? Oh, It’s been ages! How was your trip? You arrived so late we haven’t even seen you until now!” she protested as she gave her a hug.

“Good point,” Scarf agreed, “We didn’t even hear you come in.”

“Aaaaaahhhh,” Sweetie Belle yawned again, breaking the hug. “I’m sorry. I arrived so late last night because finally, I took the train.” she explained with a twinge of pride.

“You didn’t jump this time?” Scarf asked, somewhat surprised, still waking up.

“Nope!” She walked over to give Scarf a hug as well.
Kid began to stomp his hoof irritably on the bar of his stool, wishing they’d hurry up already and come downstairs.

“Oh, the city was soooo beautiful at night, you should have seen it!” The voice of his sister went on, “Anyway, when I got here, everyone, well, almost everyone,” she rolled her eyes, “was asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You could have woken us up!” Rarity protested indignantly in a loving-sort-of way.

“Agh!” Kid let out a frustrated groan, hopping back off his kitchen stool and out into the hallway space.

“Can we have breakfast already?” He said hollered up into the stairs, interrupting their conversation. All three heads of his relatives turned to see him.

“I really, reallywant to get there early!” Kid pleaded impatiently.

There was a moment of hesitation. Sweetie Belle frowned at his impoliteness. Scarf and Rarity looked at each other. After a moment, they both sighed.

“Oh, alright” Rarity gave in, “but not before we get decently dressed first!” she turned hoof and departing back into her room as Scarf followed.

“Be down in a moment Kid!” He yelled to let his son know before he disappeared beyond the door to his room.

Somewhat disappointed and annoyed at her nephew's antics, Sweetie Belle climbed down the stairs with a frown. She tried to remember to keep it upside down.

“Geez, it’s not like we have to be the first ones at the square.” she joked, trying to make a point.

“But if we don’t leave now, we’re going to be the last!” Kid sassed, before darting back into the kitchen.

Sweetie Belle couldn’t help but grin. She shrugged off her annoyance as she wondered what she would tell Rarity and Scarf about her trip.

Walking into the kitchen, Sweetie pondered if she should make her family breakfast, as a surprised. She watched as Kid pulled open the silverware drawer with some difficulty.

“Hmmph—So, how about pancakes for breakfast today?” she suggested to Kid.

“That sounds great!” He replied, not stopping to look at her.

Sweetie was glad to have hit common ground.

“But I’ll think I’ll have cereal—not enough time.” Kid added a second later, grabbing a spoon between his teeth and closing the drawer. He ran back over to the table and set the spoon down.

Sweetie Belle’s frowned at the anticlimactic answer. She brushed it off and turned her attention to the cupboards.

Lining the walls near the fridge, were rows of wooden cupboards. Sweetie Belle walked over to one and opened it. Inside, there was a plethora of items to choose from: packaged bread-loafs, bags of apples, boxes of oatmeal, jars of peanut-butter, sticks of celery, cans of soup, containers of potatoes, and syreat, all neatly organized upon racks and shelves.

Sweetie Belle glanced over the selection until she came upon the bag of apples and the box of oatmeal.

“Oooh.” she raised her eyebrows happily and floated the selections out from the cupboards, closing the small doors behind her.

Meanwhile, as Sweetie made her choice, Kid traversed to the sink and skillfully grabbed a sparkling clean bowl from out of the dish rack with his mouth. He was too short to reach where the bowls were kept, and without magic, he would have to climb onto a stool to get to them.

Sweetie-Belle observed this interaction with with some surprise, standing still to avoid getting run-over by Kid’s constant running around.

If he’s making his own breakfast, he must really be eager to go, she thought.

Kid clambered onto the fridge door and looked up to the top of it, the bowl still in his mouth.

“Phant Sweteh?” Kid muffled.

“Kid, take the bowl of out your mouth!” Sweetie ordered, amused and annoyed at the same time as she magically removed the bowl and set it on the table near his spoon.

Ripping a paper towel from the paper-towel holder, Sweetie cleaned the bit of salvia off the bowl, then let the used paper find itself into the nearby trashcan, all without moving.

“Now, what was that?” Sweetie Belle asked her nephew.

“Aunt Sweetie, can you please help me get the Frostings box?” he recited politely, pointing to the top of the fridge.

Sweetie looked to what he meant, a wheat cereal topped lightly with something that tasted like sugar but wasn’t actually sugar, synthetically-made to prevent ponies from having an unhealthy diet.

“Sure thing,” she responded, floating the decorated box of blue and red onto the table without looking at it, “since you asked so nicely.”

“Thank you.” Kid cheered, then rushed over to the table once more.

Sweetie Belle ignored him and smiled to herself as she opened the fridge door, taking out a cup of yogurt, before closing the door and emerging with her completed breakfast.

Sweetie Belle turned back around and nearly collided with Kid, who stopped just short of catastrophe.

“Geez.” Sweetie said, her eyes wider.

“Sorry,” he muttered, standing still.

Sweetie Belle stepped out of the way and walked past him, allowing Kid to fill her spot.

A moment later, his parent’s emerged into the Kitchen, fully clothed.

Buttoned up along beneath her belly and chest, Rarity wore three-folds of the same pomegranate dress, along with an olive drab and navy blue scarf.

Contrary to his name, Scarf, did not wear a scarf. Instead, he had a white suit on him that ended at his waist and neck with a kite-shaped collar, with silver buttons at his cuffs across from his tan slacks.

Approaching the table, Scarf thought to himself, “Of course that box was put up there for a reason.” He giggled quietly, before taking up a spot at the table, while Rarity proceeded straight to the counter.

Now that Kid had assembled three-fourths of the ingredients for his cereal, the only thing he needed now was the milk.

The refrigerator handle was the shape of a semi-circle, perfect for a pony’s hooves to slid into and open. Another pair, lower than the main set, had been suctioned-cupped onto the fridge so that Kid could reach them.

He grabbed the handles and pulled on the door, the cool air trapped inside washing over his face. Once he found what he was looking for, he stood up on two hooves and took it out, carefully balancing the heavy item between the palm and side of his hooves, trying to maintain his balance.

Sagging under the weight of the jug, he used one of his two hooves to close the refrigerator door and proceed towards the table.

He bit his lip as he walked over. When he finally came to the tablecloths edge, he attempted the impossible task of lifting the jug up to the surface, which he fell about a foot short of.

Rarity watched him struggle and offered him help. “Here, let me get that dear.” she said as she lifted the jug out Kid’s hooves with her magic.

“Thank you.” Kid huffed, able to stand on all fours now that the weight was relieved from him.

“You’re very welcome.” Rarity replied, walking away.

Once the milk was on the table, Kid hopped back up onto his stool and. poured himself a bowl of the flakey goodness. He grabbed the handle of the milk-jug, also designed for pony hooves, and poured himself a bowl. Now that he had finished making his meal, he began to scoop up the flakes greedily with his spoon.

From out of the corner of Kid’s eye, he saw his mom open the cupboards beneath the counter with her magic.

Sweetie Belle looked up from the bowl of otas she had been munching on.

“Sis, what are you doing?” she asked Rarity with curiosity.

“Why, making pancakes of course!” Rarity replied with enthusiasm.

Suddenly, a spectacle of materials: eggs, oats, cottage cheese, vanilla, cinnamon, blueberries, baking powder, a pan, and a spatula, flew out into the air.

Rarity lit the stove of with a few clicks of a dial as she began to arrange the tremendous assortment of glowing items into a neat arrangement near the stove.

As soon as Kid saw this he reacted with protest, “But Mom, that’s gonna take for-ever!”

Sweetie Belle couldn’t help but release a tiny moan when she heard this as she rubbed her head, “That’s why I didn’t do it…” she mumbled.

Scarf couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Oh well,” he teased his son, “I’m sure we’ll still be able see the last half of it.”

The cruel joke set Kid’s face lit ablaze with worry. He looked back at his Dad, but Scarf starting talking to Sweetie before he could say anything

“So, did they finally install those new…” Scarf searched for any term to create a phony conversation, “…streetlights, in Oakville?”

Kid tried to regain Scarf’s attention, “But Dad!”

Sweetie Belle saw the look on Scarf’s face and played right along with the joke.

“Oh, uh, yeah! They’re supppper nice.”

Neither one of them seemed to notice Kid’s real distress.

Rarity continued about her work, humming to the popping of the lids of the canisters of baking powder and cottage cheese.
Slowly.

Feeling hopeless, Kid hopped off his stool. He trotted over to Rarity, and with one large gulp of air he cried, “MOMMMM!”

Scarf and Sweetie stopped mid-sentence and there was a tremendous pause in the room, as Rarity immediately stopped what she was doing.

Kid grew pale.

Turning around to face him, Rarity’s face grew into an unnatural scowl which she steered Kid’s direction, looking down on him.

With extreme disapproval in her eyes towering over him, Kid wished he could suck back the breath he’d used to shout.

“Are you yelling at me, dear?” Rarity punctuated, word-for-word.

The paleness in Kid’s face became colored was he cheeks flushed red. “I-I… I’m sorry.” he stuttered, almost a whisper.

Rarity continued to stare Kid down, her piercing gaze furthering his guilt.

Even Sweetie felt scared, nopony saying a word.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, Rarity inexplicably burst out laughing.

Gripped by magic, the once methodically arranged objects rushed off the table and into the air. The cabinet and fridge door flung open, everything swiftly flying back into their places before all the doors except the refrigerator's closed with one great big thunk!

“Gotcha!” Rarity exclaimed with glee.

Kid’s jaw dropped.

So did Sweetie Belle’s.

“I knew you were going to throw a fit when you saw me making pancakes!” she let-on.

From the refrigerator Rarity revealed a blender full of golden-yellow liquid, “So I made the batter yesterday while you were up all last night, ‘studying’.” she squinted her eyes and scrunched her muzzle at Kid as if she were making hoof-quotation marks with her face.

Kid turned around to the table at the peering eyes of Scarf and Sweetie. Scarf, who knew full well about the prank, grinned from ear-to-ear, and Sweetie-Belle, who didn’t, goofed up as she tried to suppress her joy.

“Whhhaat?” Kid pleaded innocently, his cheeks growing hotter with embarrassment.

Sweetie Belle and Scarf exploded with laughter.

Kid was silent as Rarity joined the other two.

When the laughter finally died down, Kid hopped back onto his stool and waited, painfully.

Rarity popped the top of the blender open with a hoof, using her magic to pour the batter onto the pan.

Kid worried. Of course it wouldn’t take as long as making pancakes from start-to-finish, but it would still take some time.

Soon, he had finished his cereal, draining the remaining milk in gulps until he had scraped the bowl clean, setting it down with mild satisfaction against his larger humiliation.

Rarity went back to humming as the batter heated itself into pancakes on the stove. “Would you like one Kid darling?” She asked from the counter, Her tone reversed from before.

“No thanks.” Kid almost mumbled, a little hurt by being singled out, his bowl of milk and cereal drained, a little white mustache of milk remaining on his muzzle.

Sweetie-Belle giggled, “You’ve got something there.” she pointed out.

Kid tried to understand what she meant, until he noticed, wiping it away with his hoof, and instead of getting mad at his sister, he smiled at his own silliness, doing his best to cheer up.

After a minute, the pancakes were ready, and three plates of golden deliciousness were served with syrup.

“Alright, let’s eat!” proclaimed Scarf.

Digging in with anticipation, the three adults began talking again, without Kid. Just because he was the most excited pony among them, that didn’t mean Sweetie-Belle, Rarity, and Scarf weren’t just as eager to get out there for the big show.
Without a pancake-plate, Kid sat bored with an empty bowl, looking down into his own messy reflection, his asparagus-green eyes peering back at him.

“Did you hear about…” Kid heard bits and pieces of conversation in the background

“Yes! It was magnificent!” He heard his mom reply.

Kid thought to himself, the excitement slightly dying within him.

He knew what to say.

"I'm sorry Mom,” he apologized, “it's just... I'm just so excited!" He was being honest.

“That’s good dear,” His mother replied, “We’re excited too.”

“Mmmph-hmmp!” Scarf added with a mouth full of pancake.

“It’s just good not to be too excited.” she explained.

Kid waited to see if she’d say anything more.

When she didn’t, he sighed, “Alright.” he tried his best to be patient.

Yet, as Kid sat there, waiting, he couldn’t help but tap the table anxiously, hoping for the other three to hurry up, despite they looked like they intended to enjoy their meal.

Kid remembered to put his bowl away, hoping the process would go quicker that way. It was as if the *tick-tock* of the clock was in his head, and all other noise, like their conversation, was drowned out.

Despite this, if they left now, they’d be an hour earlier than usual.
Finally, the three of them finished eating. Scarf took a napkin from the center of the table and wiped his lips, complimenting his wife, “Thank you, dear Rarity, for that marvelous display of culinary craftsmanship!”

“Why, you’re quite welcome Scarf!” She leaned over from and kissed him on the cheek.

Scarf leaned over and kissed her back, this time on the mouth as the two completed each other.

Kid saw this and made a gagging motion to his Aunt, which made her laugh.

Once they finished, Kid returned to his eager phase, “Can we go now?”

“Oh, I suppose.” Rarity ceded, breaking away.

Rarity, Scarf, and Sweetie-Bell took their plates, the unicorns with their horns and Scarf in his hooves, while the syrup floated back into its cupboard and the plates headed back into the sink.

Kid exited the kitchen and walked through the dining room, which his family only used during dinner. He stood next to the the back door, practically shaking with impatience.

Eventually, his family came to him, and he motioned for them to open the door.

Scarf looked at his son with a smile, before he tugged on the handle, allowing Kid to run out of it like a marathon runner, turning around only to wait for his family.

“C’mon!” He shouted, “Let’s Buzzle!”

Inside, Scarf gestured for Rarity to take the first step, “M’lady,” He said, horribly impersonating a British accent.

“Thank you love.” she nodded, leading the way out, Sweetie-Belle following behind her.

As the last one out, Scarf pulled the door shut with his teeth. He turned around, smiling at the outside world, feeling the air sprinkle on him.

Surrounding their house were three other houses, much like their own, Each was built in a style that was supposed to reflect the “Original Ponyville”, but each was unique.

Despite being arranged in a grid manner, the four houses were spacious enough not to feel cramped, but close enough to feel like neighbors, and following the square ally that was their “street”, was a clear line of sight going east, all the way down to river, and the beginning of New Plane.

From where Scarf was, he couldn't see the rest of the city surrounding them. But if he headed just a few blocks down, they would find themselves on the pathway to Buzzle Square, which lead south before it eventually meet northeast along the Old Wall's former path, before curving back up towards the center of town.

Trotting outside the house, Rarity and Sweetie-Belle prepared to don their other names.

Rarity would become Casopal Illuminator, and Sweetie-Belle would become Kaylee Flowertower.

Meanwhile, Kid would remain Kid, and he was also remaining a steady mile ahead of them, constantly turning around and motioning back at them to hurry up.

* * *

Halfway into their walk, the four of them passed the famous mural. A historic moment had been captured in the painting, and had stood for over a decade and a half to commemorate the famous incident, but now, Kid’s family walked by it with little mind, but the smell of chlorine reminded them that on the other side of the mural, was a public pool.

Running, Kid continued to gain speed, going by so fast he flashed into the next style-zone.

Slowly, Casopal, Flowertower, and Scarf, shifted from one art-style into the next, where the square’s dominating “Clover” style took over their appearance. However, since their lenses were embedded into their eyesight, they didn’t see the conversion.

Except for Kid. He liked to brag sometimes that he didn’t need lenses.

Some thought it was his ability as an Afterborne to not get dizzy, nauseous, or confused when he looked out upon the mosaic of different ponies and all their countless number of appearances. Some ponies at his school were jealous. Other mystified.

But Kid just thought it was cool.

* * *

Combined, the thousand wavering silks created an enormous breeze which rushed over the carrier’s heads in any direction the flag-poles stirred.

Constantly folding over themselves like an art gallery underwater, the lines, curves, and shapes of the bolded fabrics were distorted by the ripples of air, being pulled from one side to the other as they twirled in endless figure-eight patterns, moving too fast to be seen.
In a literal sense, Buzzle Square was actually more of a rectangle, closed on all three sides save for the southern entrance, where two long walls were connected by a short one, creating a caved exposure. The buildings that formed the square extended to the right and left of the entry, and inviting them in, two giant, shining emblems of the moon and the sun garnished the building’s sides.

It was called Buzzle Square, because on each Episode Day, it buzzed with excitement, and any ear listening in the vicinity would have heard it; the enormous net of scattered, excited conversations occasionally pierced by giddy outbursts of laughter and joy that lofted through the air.

Gleaming water sprouted out for the the facets of a gray marble fountain beneath the hooves of a stone pony, forever frozen in a ballerina pose on the tip of a marble ball.

Lining the square were tall, elegant lamp posts, along with rows of paper lanterns that hung from one wall to the other, decorations hanging from their strings. At night, these lights would illuminate the square, one with electricity, the other with fire.

The restaurants, storefronts, and cafés operated like an indoor and outdoor market, spilling their concrete patios out into the square, disrupting the soft grass beneath everypony’s hooves but for good reason.

Episode Day Café, was just one of these places. The venue had to be booked typically weeks in advance for a table.

With their tails facing a section of solid brick wall, merchants stood under the patterned cloth roofs of their stands.

Tiny popping kernels crackled in the heat of a popcorn machine, surrounded by the smell of hot butter. The stand was operated by two ponies, one a butterscotch yellow mare with a cutie-mark of three popcorn kernels.

Assorted fruit in buckets piled up to the vendor's head looked about ready to spill onto the floor.

The bright, flashy pages of magazines, which ran prediction stories, sold rapidly to newcomers as they arrived.

Amongst the many many standing hooves and heads of the ponies was a small group that found a place to sit, but not from exhaustion.

Within the southeast division of the square, a set of yellow, wooden benches bent under the over-occupying weight, fifteen ponies who chuckled as they competed to fit everypony onto a spot.

The identical representations of a singular bench, repeated itself five times to form a wide “U”.

Inscribed onto a small golden plaque in the ground, was a short title, indicating that these were not merely benches, but a small monument, and the title read: Lyra’s benches.

A mare ran straight into the mouth of the U and sent herself flying on top of her friends. She posed as she landed on their laps with a hoof behind her head, bent up in the air as she flashed a smile to an invisible camera with an invisible rose in her cheeks and said, “Paint me like your french mares.”

The ponies she was sitting on laughed.

“Julenia,” one of them quipped, “you already were.”

All of them laughed again.

Meanwhile, as the ponies laughed and waited anxiously in their spots, more and more ponies came closer and closer to the cooling shadow of the Gazebo.

The original facade of the Gazebo had been preserved right into the two walls it was connected to, and surrounding each one of its three-stories, was a curved railing that followed completely around the structure. Bulging out of the larger wall, the tower created a semi-circular rotunda where a short ascension of stairs lead up to a platform that served as the entryway to the historic Friendship Mall.

The peak of the tower rose above the Mall’s roof, forming the building’s highest visible point from down below. Raised high in the air on the peak, and waving proudly in the subtle breeze, was the flag above all flags: the symbol of The Union.

But the ponies did not gather together here for the sake of staring at the building.

Lumbering in ginarmounity, the five gray frames were still as vivid from within the square, from as far as Perspective Hill.

Elevated at the same height in a row, the Televisions faced the crowd at three angles, two of them embedded on both sides of the Gazebo, while the other three clinged to the Tower’s side, forming a semi-hexagonal shape around the shaft which obscuring the entire second-floor, like a giant nut fastened around a bolt that was dug into the cultural heart of Multiquestria.

Producing high-energy melodies of music that could hardly be heard of the crowd’s blaring, the cinematic movie theatre stood still in magnificence, each screen projecting different images of background art: from a picturesque setting of a pink tree on a cliff, to the portrait of a pony wearing a monocle, to a scene of a party hosted on a beach. They were reminders of the many places, and people, that they consisted of, slowly fading from one picture to the other.

Perched above these screen and the many admiring heads, the warped, wooden boards of the roof were polished, but unequally curved at spots here and there, worn down by the test of time.

The boards lifted him like podium of a triumphant athlete. Marking Hoof could feel, without touching it, the power in the curvature of the dome behind him, goosebumps running over his body as if it were stretching himself out before the crowd in praise, while he allowed the guilty sensation of euphoria to wash over him, standing above everypony.

But he kept his posture humbled, his eyes, bright with observation under his bushy eyebrows, smiled with faint outwardness.

He turned to the face standing next to his, its owner facing directly towards the crowd with unwavering attention, refusing to appear as anything less, than a statue, focused entirely on those below her.

Despite there was nothing secret to be said, Marking leaned forward slightly, whispering with a saint like respect, “I will never forget this day,”

The figure turned her head slightly toward him, her ear pointed at him.

“This is the first time since it has ended.”

With her lips pursed into a resting smile that matched her eyes, she nodded meekly, the dark shadow of her jaw outlined by the hundred dotted ponies beneath her.

Meanwhile, those standing next to her remained silent, patiently waiting, for the first bell to ring.

* * *

Separating the space between The North and Northwest Walls like an artery to the heart, The Northwest Entrance was unusual in that, instead of putting newcomers at the beginning of the square, furthest away from the screens, and the action, this entrance was actually the closest to them, leading directly into the far-left corner of Buzzle Square, like a contender’s entry into a stadium.

Submerged within a secluded circle of space in the hallway-like channel, was the ever-famous Garden of Statues.

Within the heart of the garden, a massive stone figure stood upon a circular podium as long as seven ponies standing tail-to-tail, its face shining towards the heavens as it lifted a declaring hoof high in the air, its body stretching beyond the height of the rooftops and becoming twice as tall as the buildings themselves.

The wondrous gleam of sunlight reflected in its glass eyes, which could only be seen from atop the second floor balcony.

Planting his hoof on the basin, Globetrotter looked upwards toward the sky, trying to see the top of the monument, and straining his neck in the process.

He bathed in wonder and amazement. While looking upward, he slowly moved his hooves into the same pose as the statue.

In the short dirt road they’d come down, they’d already passed the other statues.

Charlotte, The Blindfolder, and The Children’s Tribute, all captured in perfect likeness, the people whose memory retold the history of Multiquestria.

Earlier, out of the corner of his eye, Globetrotter saw a particular Draconequus raise his claws in the air and yawn loudly, before freezing in a sing-song pose.

The two ponies following him broke out in giggles.

“Pretty cool ain’t it?” The voice of a gray and brownish colt said from behind him.

Globetrotter barely heard him. His mind was too mesmerized as he tried to impersonate the colossal figure.

“But hey—”

The voice of his friend startled Globetrotter back into focus, peeling away from the cold stone surface to turn his attention towards him.

“Huh? What is it?” His spoke quietly, still in awe.

“The others will be waiting on us if we stand around any longer, so let’s get going, ok?” Mountain Powers suggested.

“Alright” He agreed shaking off the spell, “Sounds good.”

Floating past the two of them were other ponies, every one of them heading towards the action and surrounding the two friends as if they were two rocks in a stream.

Globetrotter hurried up to meet his friend, who was already a ways ahead of him, his view expanding to see what had excited him ever since he’d first come to Buzzle Square—the presentation.

The two walls, narrow when compared to what he was walking into, disappeared from his vision as his eyes feasted upon the expanse of space in front of him.

“And here we are!” Powers shouted.

If every color could be poured into a bottle and then poured back out again, Buzzle Square would be where that bottle had been spilt.

There was not a singular gap in the crowd through which Globetrotter could see the other wall. The package of ponies stood shoulder-to-shoulder, the shadows of the flags passing over their faces.

Because they could not carry the flags in their hooves without standing up all the time, many of the ponies found creative ways to prop them up otherwise.

Some of them wore hats with straps around their chin, each with tiny little motors, or magic, that spun the lightweight, wooden sticks in a circular pattern, carrying the flags high into the air, far above the wearer’s heads.
Others simply used flags they could hold in one hoof, stuck in a black, bowl-like basin that allowed the flag to move, without falling out or leaning too much where it could bump into another pony.

But the open-space was an illusion.

Of course, The Northwest Entrance did not simply allow anypony to cut in front of the crowd and be the nearest to the main event. Although, some newcomers who’d never visited the Square thought they could get away with it, just because the entranced looked the closest to the front on a map.

Separating them and the front-stage, was a bubble of glass, so clean it looked like air, but when Globetrotter went up to touch it, he was stopped by the solid barrier.

Globetrotter could see, just inches away from his face, the bright outlines, sharp hairstyles, and unique cutie-marks of the moving, talkative group of equines. Some beamed with joy, others frowned, but out of seriousness or unhappiness it was hard to tell, while meanwhile, others grimaced at the recounting of a stories, and still others batted their eyelashes romantically at one another.

Glancing over the crowd, Globetrotter reflected to himself. We don’t look like we’re supposed to on that screen. He smiled.

Leading them away from the crowd, the pathway turned into a glass tunnel adjacent to the activity, the mere glass barrier the only thing separating the open and lofty, from the absolutely jam-packed.

To join in the festivities, the two of them would have to backtrack, walking away from the Tower.

Mountain Powers shook his head in the direction of the exit. “C’mon.” He urged.

The two began to pace away from the glass bubble, passing by shops and exhibits at their side, the pungent aromas of a bakery and perfume store inviting them to look inside.

Yet for now, they paced on, barely giving the shops mind as Globetrotter briefly glanced into their empty interiors.

The tunnel’s roof above them was paved with windows to the sky. Passing the last store on their way towards freedom, the two of them could hear the roar of the crowd getting louder, and louder, and more real.

Globetrotter’s hair began to tingle with excitement, almost as charged-up as his friend.

They had nearly made it to the large archway opening.

Globetrotter could smell the fresh air, filled with the scents of popcorn and flowers, when suddenly, a massive wave of wind and sound blew across the crowd with a whoosh!

As soon as they heard it, Mountain Powers and Globetrotter felt of pulse of adrenaline rush across them, making them nearly break into a run—just in time to see a V-shaped pattern of rainbow-trailed fliers shoot across the open sky out of the corner of their eyes.

The two of them stopped in their tracks, their eyes pointed upward, following the aerial-runners until they disappeared out of sight.

They looked at each other, before exchanging grins.

It was almost too-perfect. Just as they had arrived.

The Legion of Dashes had marked the First Bell.

Over a loudspeaker, a familiar voice echoed over the crowd, “Welcome!” It shouted. “To the Sixth Season!”

The crowd thundered in approval.

Globetrotter took his first step through the entrance, beneath the stone archway above him, and his senses became overwhelmed. There was too much too see, too much to smell, to much to feel, all at once.

The light of the sun shone over him, and his smile grew wider as the scene grew more vivid, his vision scanning over the crowd, which although thick, did not begin until about another meter.

Then he looked straight ahead of him.

His eyes wandered into a group of creatures as black as shadows.

The mingling band of hundreds of dark-colored creatures blocked sight of all else.

Pockmarked with holes everywhere, their bodies resembled a distorted version of a pony’s, but uniquely different. They had the same bright shades of hair, and whenever their eyes happened to glance over Globetrotter, paying him little mind, he could see they were still the gleaming eyes of a pony, with bright irises and dazzling pupils.

But their entirely black coats carried no trace of a cutie-mark, and protruding from their mouth distinctly, were pairs of sharp, elongated fangs, their ivory surface sparkling in the sun.

Mountain Powers nudged Globetrotter in the shoulder, “Hey—I guess the changeling invasion came early, huh?” He joked.

“Yeah.” He agreed, racking his brain to find more humor in the sentence then he heard, hesitantly adding a moment later, “Do you know any of them?”

Mountain Powers scanned the crowd, standing on the tips of his hooves, and leaning his head like a pony looking around a corner.

“Nope.” came his short reply.

“Ah.” Globetrotter said, standing still.

His head began to wander with his mind as he looked at the ponies surrounding the changelings, wondering who else had come to the party, when he was suddenly stung with a flash of light shining at him.

He used his hooves to shield his eyes from the image, just able to make out the bright yellow surface the sun must have been reflecting from.

The flash disappeared when the object blinding him turned away, ceasing the reflection, until Globetrotter was finally able to see what it was.

A banana suit.

And standing in the banana suit, was the body of a tall, shining white alicorn, with the neck of a pencil and a horn just as exaggerated.

Her cutie-mark consisted of seven yellow branches around two yellow and orange circles that formed the image of a sun, and her long, pink and blue flowing hair floated in the wind like it was alive.

Wearing a ludicrously happy grin, she whispered something to her companion standing next to her, a broad creature with long legs and a pair of horns, nodding its head in the tall pony’s direction as if he was agreeing with whatever she was saying.

By comparison, one looked much wiser than the other.

An antler pony, Globetrotter thought, interesting, skipping over the fact that the pony wearing the banana suit was indeed a Celestia.

He’d been in The After long enough to have seen weirder.

Powers looked back and forth between these interactions and Globetrotter, before cracking a grin, “C’mon man, we can’t stare at everypony. ”

Globetrotter’s attention once again returned to Powers, and he nodded his head, “Right.”

Powers started to cut through the crowd, motioning for Globetrotter to follow.

“Make sure to keep an eye out!” he shouted above the increasing chatter.

A few steps behind, Globetrotter shouted back, “Alright!”

Looking in every single direction for their group, Globetrotter slowly followed behind in Mountain Powers’s path, whose confident strides moved aside the sea of chatting mouths and peculiar ponies with polite respect.

As he was walking, something large and cold suddenly slide past Globetrotter’s hooves, and moved past him.

Globetrotter’s forehoof shot of the ground in a startled pause as he inhaled sharply, as if he had almost slid off the edge of a cliff.

Scanning frantically to see what it was, he was only able to catch sight of a scaly green tail before it disappeared into the thick underbelly of the crowd.

He stopped for a moment and stared off into space, his heart beating quicker than usual. After he had taken a few breaths, he reassured himself, “That was probably just a Gummy.”

“Keep up!”

Globetrotter was brought back into focus when he heard Powers shout with giddy impatience as he continued forward, oblivious to the creature but somehow aware his friend was lagging behind.

Shaking it off, Globetrotter sped forward, apologizing to the ponies he nearly ran into. Soon, he had caught back up to Powers, trapped behind his lead in the confining crowd.

Remembering his advice, Globetrotter began to scan the premises as the two of them slowly drifted in the direction of The Northeast Wall. He saw no sign of his friends.

There was a small robotic pony with green eyes.

A frowning pink mare with razor-sharp straightened hair.

A marshmallow white pony with a strange black symbol of four spokes painted over a heart symbol for a cutie-mark.

They were talking together.

Globetrotter looked to the other side.

This time he spotted a pony with a different type of tail then most. A mermaid tail. Next to her, a brown, diplomatic-looking mare laughed as their third companion, a red and white pony wearing a cap with a red plus sign on it, cracked a joke Globetrotter couldn’t hear.

Still not the ponies they were looking for.

He passed these two groups and found a third, more complex and even stranger. The first two ponies among them were normal enough: a white and blue colt, standing tall and proud, and a pink, purple and white-striped alicorn wearing a small golden crown.

Then he saw a deer.

Then the body of a pony, towering over the rest on eight black, fuzzy legs.

Then an upright pillow. With a face.

And a horn.

Who was talking to them.

They were all having a jolly good time.

But still, these were not the ponies Globetrotter or Mountain Powers were trying to find.

“There!” Mountain Powers suddenly stopped in his tracks and pointed through an opening between a group of griffons, the leader of whom wore a slick black top hat, and leaned up on shiny black cane.

Looking away, Globetrotter tried to ask, “Wh—?” before he accidentally walked right into Mountain Powers backside.

Stumbling, Powers turned around, unaffected, and helped his friend up.

“There!” he pointed with his free hoof for Globetrotter to see.

Standing next to the vendors, the six familiar collage of faces were no exception from the eclecticism that surrounded them, talking amongst themselves, their cheeks bright and full of animation.

One of them, a grey-bodied, white-haired pegasus, accidentally looked in their direction, making eye contact. The question of recognition registred in her eyes for a moment, and then, jaw-dropping, she shouted, “It’s them!”

Five other ponies turned to see who she was referring too, and when their sets of multi-colored eyes drew upon them, an unspoken feeling of elation crossed them.

Mountain Powers stood-up on his hind-hooves and shouted, “Brothers!” opening his body like he was about to give everypony a hug.
Globetrotter countered, “Sisters!”

The two and the five ran over to meet each other, forcing a gap between the group of griffons.

The dandy top-hat griffon stood aside, looked at them for a moment and then paid them no mind.

Chatter flared up immediately.

Oh, How have you been…? Look at you! You look so… Waffle!... You two finally decided to join the party, eh?… It’s so good to see you again, we were just…

Once the rush of reconnecting wore off, a colt unicorn named Talent was finally able to ask them, “Where have you two been? We’ve been looking out for you all afternoon!”

Powers began to answer, “Globetrotter wanted to stop by the statutes—”

“Again.” Globetrotter interrupted as he smiled, bashing himself.

“Annnnd we used the Northwest Entrance.” His friend finished.

“Oh, I see.” Talent understood, “Yes, that would certainly explain it.”

Shadycaves came over from the center of the group to stand by Globetrotter’s side.

When Globetrotter had first met Shadycaves, he was under the assumption that she was just any ordinary pegasus. Then he noticed something different. Her complexion was pale, her ears were split at three-ends and unusually fluffy, and when she opened her mouth to speak, he could distinctly see two pairs of fangs sticking out where her top molars would be.
She was a Bat-Pony.

“What’s new scaredy cat?” she slid over to his side and said in an accent-free voice, laying a hoof over his back with a friendly squeeze, flashing him a smile.

Globetrotter pretended not to be embarrassed, wondering if she had somehow seen him earlier in the alligator incident.

“Oh, just about everything, huh-huh,” he laughed awkwardly, “you know, Episode Day!” He tried to accent his enthusiasm, fearing he come off flat, only adding to the slight redness in his cheeks.

“Gregory!”

Suddenly, a great blue mass of fur leapt through the air and tackled Globetrotter in a bear-hug, slipping away from Shadycaves grasp as he exchanged into Kate Kerfuffle’s.

Without time to react, Globetrotter found himself on the ground, the thick coat like being suffocated under a rug. A second later, he was lifted into the air with two brushy, elephant-like hooves.

“Agg-g-h!” he choked, trying to speak.

Finally, Kerfuffle let go. She took a step back.

Bending his head down in recovery and coughing, Globetrotter took seven large gulps of air before he felt able to squeak out, “Hell-l-lo… K-ka-kate.”

When he looked back up, Kate was wearing a small, quiet grin, as if nothing had happened, on a face that looked as innocent as a puppy-dog’s.

Without saying another word, she stood there in front of him, her eyes, wide and unblinking, stared into Globetrotter’s.

Shadycaves tried very hard to suppress a giggle.

“Um…” Unsure how to respond, his irritation was replaced with confusion.

Then, without a murmur, Kerfuffle gently raised her hoof in the air, then brought it to Globetrotter’s nose.

Globetrotter looked cross-eyed at the hoof.

“Boop!” she made a cartoonish sound-effect as she pressed lightly on Globetrotter’s muzzle.

Kerfuffle brought her hoof back to the ground and it rested there.

“O-O-Ok.” Globetrotter blushed, not sure what had just happened.

“Mhem.” Kate gave him a cute little nod, before walking away.

Globetrotter furrowed his eyebrows as he watched her leaved and attempted to understand what had just happened.

Shadycaves burst out laughing, releasing what she’d been holding in earlier, “That is sooooo Kerfuffle!” she wiped away a tear.

Globetrotter shook his shoulders , “Alright.” he tried to remember what he was doing, “So…”

“Don’t get too close you two.” Interrupted a voice.

The two of them turned towards the speaker’s direction, only to find, towering over them, was the mad-scientist grin of Dark-Ish, whose fangs shined like Shadycaves’s, except for that in his mouth, every tooth was as sharpened as a spike.

Equally as pointy on him were the blood-red triangles that covered his pure black coat like zebra stripes, the same color as his demonic red eyes.

Curling out from his head were two horns, cracks running along them, giving them appearance of having been broken, and to make matters worse, his cutie-mark was some kind of cross between a skull and something that vaguely resembled a mushroom-cloud explosion, like a villain gone wrong.

The ridiculously tall effigy scratched his head with a hoof, ruffling up his spiky but somehow messy gray hair that ran along the sides of his face like waterfalls.

In any other context, he might have been terrifying.

But he smiled, like everyone else did around him—and no one seemed to mind in the least.

“Well, ah, um—hello, Dark-Ish. Ha-How are you d-doing today?” Globetrotter craned his neck upward to see his face.

“Fantastic!” Dark-Ish replied characteristically sarcastic, “How is your little day going?

“Nice. We saw,” he looked at Shadycaves, who was already staring at him, “I-I-I mean I saw,” he corrected himself “the garden on our way.”

Dark-Ish tilted his head sideways, giving them a one-eyed look.

“Is it just me or do I smell flowers?”

“F-F-Flowers?” Globetrotter asked.

“Flowers of young love.” Dark-Ish quipped.

Shadycaves burst out laughing with varying low and high-pitched squeaks.

“Uh, well, uh, I-I don’t think so.” Globetrotter stammeringly defended himself.

Shadycaves piped down to speak, still high-pitched, “Oh stop teasing him Darky.”

“No, no. It’s ok.” Globetrotter protested for himself. “I’m n-not sure what you mean, but uhhh… w-what h-have you been up to?” he said, lamely trying to change the subject.

“Oh well—” Dark-Ish let him as he sighed with fake exhaustion and unexpectedly dropped to the floor and rolled onto his back, his horns digging a hole in the grass as he came down.

Now Shadycaves and Globetrotter where the ones staring down at him.

“I started to assemble a little board-game to sell today for my stand, but I put decided to put it away—just so I could be with you guys!” his tone floated in between sincerity and sarcasm.

“Did you really Darky?” Shadycaves continued to use the nickname, “Can we see it?” she asked, bubblegum suddenly inflating through her lips despite Globetrotter hadn’t seen her her chewing any or pulling any out from a packet.

Sneaky. He thought.

Dark-Ish’s eyes shifted from one side to the other as he considered the proposition.

The bubble popped while they waited. Shadycaves chewed it back up and spit the wad out.

“Of course!” Dark-Ish sprang back up in a flash, fake doubt erased from his face.

He stood there, unmoving, his hoof lifted into the air like a tree branch.

“Well, where is it?” Globetrotter finally asked.

“Right here!” Dark-Ish announced as a black-colored mist of magic floated around even blacker leather-like bag that resembled a doctor’s antiqued briefcase, silver-rods piercing its curved, gothic-looking top.

The bag folded open with a click as Dark-Ish undid the latch with one of his fangs.

“I like your style.” Shadycaves complimented him.

“Why thank you!” he replied.

Dark-Ish set the bag down using his Magic, and from the depths of the briefcase, lifted a thick brown slab of wood.

Neither Shadycaves nor Globetrotter could see any markings on it whatsoever.

Dark-Ish slowly floated the board in Globetrotter’s direction, then stopped mid-air before him.

Globetrotter looked back and forth between the board and Dark-Ish without saying a word, hesitant to touch it.

“Go on.” Dark-Ish tempted.

Globetrotter held out a cautious hoof, but as he reached out to grab it, Dark-Ish swiped the board away to Shadycaves’s side.

“Ladies first!” he teased.

“Sweet.” Shadycaves picked up the board with one hoof as she started throwing it up and down and catching it on her hoof like a cup and ball game.

Globetrotter made a frown and put his tongue in his cheek, wondering what else should he have expected Dark-Ish to do.

Gently, she set the plank onto the grass on top of Dark-Ish’s pockmarks.

Crouching down and onto her belly, Shadycaves inspected it thoroughly as Globetrotter watched, awkwardly standing there.

Shadycaves’s slipped it over and looked at the other side.

“Dark-Ish.” Shadycaves smirked. “This is a just a piece of wood.”

“Exactly!” Dark-Ish shouted jubilantly, “You flip it like a coin, and if the sun is shining on the side it lands on, you win! You see, everyone’s a winner! Ha-Ha!” He laughed to himself.

Shadycaves started giggling at just how unbelievably dumb his entire joke had been.
Globetrotter started off to space, barely grinning while Dark-Ish brought himself to tears.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he began, accidentally taking the bait, “What happens if it’s not sunny out?” he asked half-serious.

“W-W-What?” Dark-Ish hardly heard him over his own laugher.

“Who wins if its not sunny out?” Globetrotter challenged him.

“What?” Dark-Ish seemed offended, “On my shift? Never!” he laughed again.

Just as they spoke a passing cloud started drifting over the sun.

“Oh look.” Dark-Ish pointed upward like an arrow.

Shadycaves glanced between Globetrotter fell into the trap and was blinded staring straight into the sun.

“Ah!” he blinked and rubbed his eyes with a hoof.

Dark-Ish seemed absolutely fine glaring right into the ball of light.

“How dare Cloudy Nine schedule this on this dearly ceremonial day!” He complained without a hint of seriousness, still grinning from his laughter as he spoke.

A few seconds later, the cloud had passed, diverting its course.

“That’s more like it.” Dark-Ish said, still looking into the sun.

Shadycave giggled, once again putting hoof around Globetrotter’s back as his vision recovered.

Dark-Ish’s head snapped back to look at the two of them. He grinned his last before he turned to leave, acting inconspicuously as if nothing had ever happened.

“See you around.” He alluded, walking away with another laugh, taking his bag, and his board, with him.

Globetrotter’s face screwed up as he watched for the second time today, one of his group come and go without explanation.

Then again, his mind wandered, everypony’s being theirself.

“Well—” he turned to Shadycaves, “Were you planning on doing anything in the square?”

Shadycave’s flapped her wings twice, then let go of him. “Oh, why not?” she said playfully.

Meanwhile, as Dark-Ish trotted over to the other side of their group, he came just in time to see Mountain Powers with Talent, and Kate, listening intently to a quiet, petit voice that lightly asked, “So, was everything alright?”

The voice’s owner was Blushing Bells, a pony with light blue, straight hair, a lavender coat, and a cutiemark of three silver bells and two curling green vines. Of all of the, she was the most reserved pony in their hebdomad.

“Oh absolutely! This is more than alright! This is going to be a grand fiesta!” Mountain Powers responded, twice as loud.

“I think what she means to ask you is how was the trip here?” Talent, a hoof in his vest pocket, took out his silver pocket-watch.

“Great! Perfect!” Powers kept on, “Everything but the kitchen sink!” It was almost as if he wasn’t listening.

“W-Wel-l-ll I’m sure you can buy one if you want.” Blushing Bells added, petting her hair nervously.

Talent tuned out for a second and clicked his watch open with his magic. 10:57. He read. The second bell was about to ring in three minutes.

“Oh my!” He explained.

“What what?” Kerfuffle asked.

“Huh?” Blushing Bells stopped brushing when she heard Kerfuffle speak.

“There’s only three minutes until the second bell rings. Ponies if you want to get anything we better do it now!”
Hardly any time had passed before suddenly, everypony’s ears were ringing with the sound of the second bell, which meant that there was only an hour left before the spectacle began.

In their rush to greet each other, Globetrotter, nor anypony for that manner, had even thought about what the episode would be like: they had totally skipped talk of predictions, news, and the most important thing of all—the baby.

But now all that theatric rush returned back into them with a passion.
Globetrotter hoped it would be a premier to remember. He did his best to forget his embarrassment and awkwardness. Putting it aside, he was ready to have the time of his life.

* * *

If Kid didn’t know any better, he’d probably would have assumed that the small, black empty pathway that lead over to the grass hill continued on into nothing more but an empty park space.

But Kid knew better.

That’s why, even paces ahead of his family, he kept increasing his speed.

Casopal watched him go, climbing further up the lumpy, green mounds.

When he reached the top of the hill, triumphant, he stopped, and stared downward, as if he had discovered a long-lost golden city.

Watching him, Casopal’s lips formed a smile.

Together, the six pairs of their hooves made gentle, rhythmic taps on the black pavement as the three of them strolled in leisure.

The fresh air hung over the clean, wide, and empty streets. Surrounding them everywhere, were neighborhood houses, yet devoid of neighborhood activity.

From the paved main street, several dirt side-streets branched off.

Windows of the houses gazed at them like translucent eyes, their windows open, and miniature gardens hanging over the side of their railings.

Rarity could only see one pony in the whole neighborhood, quietly pulling a cart of oranges in the opposite direction of them.

Waving to them to them as they passed each other, she greeted them with a friendly, “Good morning.”

“Good morning!” The three of them chimed, waving back.

The pony walked on by and the three of them continued in silence.

“Ohmygosh—canyoubelieveit? It’salreadyepisodeday!” Something shouted, horns, streamers, and confetti blazing everywhere.

Flowertower and Scarf nearly jumped backwards in surprise.

Casopal started laughing. It was good to see a familiar face.

Like her name, Candy Cotton was sweet, bright, and full of sugar, her pink, light and puff hair curling out like whipped frosting.

“No Candy, despite all my creative efforts I just cannot believe it is Episode Day.” Casopal quipped.

Flowertower and Scarf exhaled as if they had avoided a rolling boulder.

“Y’know, you could have let us known you were coming today.” Flowertower smiled with easing nerves.

“Yes, but where’s the fun in that, silly?” Candy giggled, before turning to Cosopal, “Oh! Oh! Where’s Kid?”

“He’s up ahead of us by about a-gazillion blocks.” Scarf exaggerated, pointing to Kid, who waved frantically for them to come closer.

Candy waved back to him, her hoof moving so fast that it became a noodly pink blur.

Casopal knew Candy would be here.

She always was.

She lived just two houses away from where they were, and it was impossible to think that Candy would go to Buzzle Square alone.

It was their tradition to go together, and Flowertower already knew full well in her heart that Candy would be here today.

With Candy absorbed into their group, the four of them paced themselves towards Kid, while meanwhile Candy hopped up and down like a spring, passing by the field house on the road before they entered the clear and vast space of the Park of Hills.

Getting closer to Perspective Hill, Casopal had a thought. “Last one to Kid is a Rotten Pony!” breaking out into a gallop.

“Hey, no fair!” Candy shouted behind her.

Flowertower and Scarf started running, the four of them kicking up dust in their path.

Within seconds, the four of them climbed to the top of the grassy slope.

As soon as Kid saw Candy, his ears perked up and his eyes shining with excitement, “You made it!”

“Of course!” Candy exclaimed, “I’d never let my favorite foal go their second season premiere without me!”

Flowertower giggled as she watched Candy and Kid play Patty-Cake.

She turned backwards to look at the houses one more time, their roofs now at her eye-level. The sprawl was only broken by little pockets of space set between them for shops, parks, and ponds.

Then she turned around, making eye-contact with Scarf. He looked back at her and smiled silently. The two of them glanced at the goof-balls, unexpectedly watching as Candy hoisted Kid onto her back.

“Woah! Hey!” Kid protested.

Casopal laughed again. Taking a step forward, her eyes wandered over the slope of the hill, and like rolling snowballs, she could not avoid finding hundreds of picnic blankets, baskets, and ponies everywhere.
The hill beneath them was a wide, slow-sloping range, that gradually rolled into the ground, where it met gently with the rest of Buzzle Square, far below them. She could see the tiny wavering squares above the kaleidoscopic blips. The noise below them drew her closer, like a magnet.

Hearing it automatically refreshed Kid’s energy.

“C’mon! Let’s go!” He said for the thousandth time, tugging at Candy’s ears.

“Hold on there Rolly Foal-y!” Candy said with Kid still on her back.

“Alrighty then!” Casopal said. “Who's ready to go?”

“Oh! ME-ME-ME-ME-ME!” Kid responded on Candy’s shoulders, using her head as a podium.

“Well let’s go then!” Scarf announced, proceeding forward and downward.

Without thinking Candy shouted, "Race you to the bottom!" And began setting-off, knocking Kid down onto her back and holding on helplessly.

"Idon'tthinkthat’ssosafe!" Rarity and Scarf shouted in unison with parenting instincts.

Flowertower grimaced, watching in Terror as Candy passed, dodged, and avoided pony-after-pony, nearly clipping someone’s basket as she rushed down the hill with a daredevil smile.

Even in her own wind-tunnel, Candy found time to wave to sompeony, “OhheySummerDeskshow’sitgoing?” Her words rushed out like hot-air out of a balloon.

“Oh Hi Candy!” The pony named Summer Desks waved back, already gesturing at an empty space.

Kid’s eyes violently shook up and down as he fought against the current that pulled his hair as backwards like leaves in a breeze.

He held onto Candy’s neck, barely able to keep his grip; mere moments from the bottom.

Casopal, Scarf, and Flowertower were still on-top of the hill, nervously waiting to see how their dangerous ride would end.

Candy had picked up so much momentum that she couldn’t stop herself. She was barrelling down into the flattening ground, passing through a needle opening in a wall of lawn-chairs and umbrellas, her body propelled into the open space between Perspective Hill and the crowded square.

“Watch out!” Kid yelled over the wind in his face, biting his teeth as he braced for impact.

Hearing the cry, the group of figures they were about to ram into turned around, their eyes widening at what was about to happen.

“Slow down!” one of them cried.

“I can’t!” Candy cried back desperately trying to brake but losing to gravity.

The stranger’s frantically tried to step aside, but it was too late.

The two flying companions toppled into somebody and were partially cushioned in the crash.

“Ouch.” Sweetie-Belle commented from atop the hill.

The three of them came running-down after them.

* * *

Kid felt a slight pain in his head. He’d fallen off Candy and landed on the ground.

He blinked a couple of times and when his vision came back to him, he recognized that the eyes staring down at him were far higher up then the eyes of a pony.

“Are you OK?” A group of hands reached down to offer assistance.