“No, go ahead.”

Vi opened her eyes, blinking. It was six days after the incident with Spike, who since then had kept his normal size. Twilight was sitting beside her, seemingly having been watching her sleep.

“Exactly twenty minutes,” she now said. “How do you do it? An alarm spell?”

Vi nodded, pressing her eyelids together as if to squeeze out tiredness from between them.

“We’ve talked so little about magic... but you can do some nice things.”

“Not many,” Vi murmured. Opening her eyes, she slid a few inches backwards on her bed. “I’m not talented. Just got a good work ethic. I can do some spells I really need, but only because I brute-forced them.”

“You have an amazing work ethic,” Twilight corrected. “It’s almost too perfect to be real.”

Vi nodded again, showing no hints of false modesty. “Thanks.”

“How come?”

“... when I was three years old, I first asked myself what the most important things were that I should do. I thought it was helping everypony as much as possible, so I tried to do that. But later, I learned that higher level stuff is what’s hardest to change. Meta skills, like working a lot. So I decided to prioritize those instead. Work all the time, and learn to have reliable pre-commitment. And always try to improve your habits.”

For over ten seconds, Twilight didn’t respond. When she finally said something, it was in a notably different tone of voice.

“Vi... what do you want? What do you really want? What are you fighting for?”

“I want to live forever.”

“Oh,” Twilight made.

“You had to know I’ll be saying this,” Vi replied, calm and serious. “I can get ten times as much done in a thousand years than in a hundred. And... I really don’t want to stop existing. I want to live indefinitely and I want everyone I love to live indefinitely. I want to beat aging, beat sickness, and to be as safe as possible.”

Once again, Twilight said nothing. Eventually, she sat down next to Vi, drawing her into a hug. Still without speaking, they held each other for the better part of a minute.

“Are you already working on that?” Twilight asked as they parted.

Vi shook her head. “No. There’s no point I think. Probably not for another ten years. I’m far, far away from being ready. I don’t know how I’ll be able to do it, if I will, but I think it’s a safe bet that it will be too hard for my current self.”

“Ponies have tried before you and failed,” Twilight said quietly. “Though from what I know, only a few.”

Vi nodded.

“You want to get better at magic first?”

“I want to get better at everything,” Vi corrected. “Magic. Math. History. Social skills. Social status. Mental skills. Endurance. Fitness. That’s a much better long-term plan, I think.”

“So for now your goal is just to improve?”

“And help everypony I can in the process.”

“Well, I can live with that.” Twilight stood up. “I’d say ‘promise me not to do anything dangerous’,” she added, “but, knowing you, I guess that won’t be necessary.”

Vi shook her head. “I have no plans to do anything about it in the near future,” she repeated, “and if I ever wanted to do anything dangerous, I’d ask you first. But, uh, Twilight?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t tell anyone, please.”

Twilight bowed her head. “It’s our secret. I swear it.”

“... I want to thank Applejack in advance, for generously offering up her prize money, to fix Town Hall!” The mayor announced.

“Seriously?” Vi said while everyone around them was cheering.

Twilight looked at Vi. Vi looked back.

“Speech! Speech!” Pinkie demanded.

“I got this,” Twilight suddenly said, “don’t worry.”

“Ah, shucks,” Applejack said modestly, “I’m not much for speeches.”

“Alright then no speech-”

“But...”

“Ahem, Applejack?” Twilight and Vi approached the farmmare, who was still standing on the improvised podium, while the crowd around them was slowly dissolving. “Can we talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure thing, Twilight.” Still smiling, Applejack climbed down to stand beside them. “What’cha wanna talk about?”

“I know you have good intentions,” Twilight began carefully, ”and I think there’s a great chance that you’ll win and everything works out, but – it might not be such a good idea to promise something you might not be able to deliver on.”

“Oh.” Applejack looked taken aback. “Well, where’s this all coming from, now? Did I ever make a promise I couldn’t keep?”

“No. ... well, actually, yes. When you promised to harvest the entire apple orchards just by yourself... but that’s not the point! Don’t you see? The fact that you’re so proud and so reliable is exactly why I’m worried! What if you don’t win this time? What if you just get second place? After you just promised the entire town you’d give them your prize money?”

“Well, now, I’m not gonna take back anything I just said, so if that’s what you want, then I’m mighty sorry, Twilight.”

“That’s not what I mean. I just want to be sure that you won’t do anything... impulsive, even if things don’t turn out well.”

“This was your idea, right?” Applejack asked, looking at Vi.

“Actually, it’s not,” Twilight answered in her stead. “I thought it was smart to bring this up, though I’m sure Vi is thinking along the same lines.”

“Yes,” Vi confirmed. “Look, Applejack. The only thing we want you to do is promise that you’ll come back and be open about the result, regardless of how that result looks like. Nothing more.”

“Which I’m sure you were gonna do anyway, right?” Twilight added.

“... ‘course I was. Y’all think I’d be too embarrassed to face my family and friends just ‘cause I didn’t win a competition?”

“No,” Vi responded.

“No,” Twilight echoed. “I don’t think you would. I’m just making sure.”

“Oh. Well, okay then. I see what’cha sayin’. Sure thing, I promise I’ll come back no matter what. Yer happy?”

Twilight nodded.

“Good. But there won’t be a need for it, ‘cause I’m gonna win this thing!”

“Great! So, you’re gonna leave tomorrow?”

Five days later, Twilight rounded the corner to the library’s upper floor to see Vi sitting at her desk, floating a quill over a bunch of sheets in front of her. Curiously, she stepped closer.

“Maths?”

“Yeah,” Vi murmured. “I was in the mood. I can’t seem to figure out how to prove that gH being a subset of Hg implies they’re the same. I know it has to be simple.”

“Mh,” Twilight made, a small frown forming on her brow as she looked through the struck-through lines of failed ideas. For a few moments, she closed her eyes, perhaps trying to do or to remember the proof in her head.

“Rewrite the statement in a few different ways, then take some time to think about each version. It’s only one more step from there, but you can miss it if you have tunnel vision.”

Vi nodded, striking out her latest, overly complicated attempt.

“Um,” Twilight said before she could continue, “I... need some advice.”

Having already written the first letter, Vi immediately put the quill aside, turning around.

“What is it?”

“The apples ran out of cider today. As they always do. But this time, when everypony still there was complaining, we got a... visit. Two guys with a weird self-made machine, claiming they could make cider faster than the apples can. They offered them to work together – the apple family supplies apples, their machine makes the cider – and split profits seventy-five for themselves, twenty-five of the apples. But they said no. There was a bit more back and forth with the crowd, and the guys said they’d be back tomorrow. They also said they’d run the apples out of business... and then they left.

“Is their machine working?” was Vi’s first question.

“I think so. They did give a demonstration; it sucked in all the apples from a tree, and it only took a few seconds to turn them into cider. Granny was the only one who got to taste it, I think.”

“Who?”

“Granny Smith. Applejack’s grandmother.”

“So it probably tastes at least mostly like cider. How precise is her taste?”

“No idea.”

Vi nodded. “Let’s assume their product is working. How would they threaten the apple’s business?”

“Well,” Twilight said, “they’d just...” But her voice trailed off. “... uh... I guess they can’t, really,” she said after some time, “or at least I don’t see how.”

“Yeah, I don’t see it, either. Unless there are apple orchards close which the apples don’t own.”

“There aren’t.”

“Then I think they’re fine, as long as they don’t do anything stupid. Maybe they can import them from farther away... but that wouldn’t put them in a position to bargain for seventy-five to thirty-five, even if their machine worked perfectly. Unless the cider it makes is actually better than what the apples sell... and this is still Ponyville, too. From what I understand, pretty much the entire town knows and likes Applejack, and she just donated five hundred bits...” Vi stood up, walking to the other end of the room and back. “We should talk to the apples,” she concluded, “but it looks like the question is more whether they should aim for a better deal or no deal.”

“A better deal? You mean split the profits differently?”

“Yes.”

“You think that’s a good idea?”

Vi shook her head. “No,” she also said, “I don’t. I think automating things can be a slippery slope. And if we did it, I’d want somepony else to lead the charge.”

“Hm,” Twilight made. “But wouldn’t it be great if we all had to work less?”

“All other things equal... probably. But... well, change is risk, and I don’t like risks.”

“We have to act today,” Twilight said, going back to the problem at hoof. “Before things escalate tomorrow.”

Vi nodded. “Should we go right now?”

“Hold on.” Twilight frowned. “Who says we’re going to the apples? That was just one idea. Shouldn’t we discuss others before we decide?”

“... um. Yes, of course we should. Sorry. Um, what else can we do?”

“Well, we could also talk to Flim and Flam, I think.”

“... hm.”

There were a few moments of silence while both of them compared their two options.

“Okay, I think I know which is the better idea,” Vi said eventually.

Twilight nodded. “I think I do, too.”

“Flim and Flam,” Vi said.

“The apples,” Twilight said.

Both of them laughed.

“Okay, so I’m thinking, making Flim and Flam talk can only put them at a disadvantage,” Vi explained. “If they have more cards on their side that we don’t know of, we might learn about them in a private setting, instead of being unprepared when they pull them in front of a crowd. Conversely, if their position really is as bad as we suspect, we should be able to lay out the facts and make them leave, avoiding another confrontation from happening in the first place. And if we achieve nothing, we can still talk to the apples afterwards. I don’t see any strong points in favor of going to the apples first.”

“Hm,” Twilight made. “I was just thinking, going to Flim and Flam will likely antagonize them, but I think your points are better.”

But Vi shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“No? You mean you-”

“Yes, I think I agree with you. My reasons are too complicated. Simple is better. Normal ponies are ruled by emotion and social concerns, not logic. If the apples just decline to make a deal, that could be it, but if we tell Flim and Flam they can’t win, that might make them not want to give up. I think we should make it easier for them. I call it ‘leaving a social line of retreat’.”

“Okay, but what if they really do have other things they want to pull?”

“It seems less likely? It depends on their personalities, but based on what you described, I-”

They both fell silent and faced the room’s entrance as they could hear steps coming from the staircase. A few moments later, the third resident of the library entered the room.

“Hi, Spike,” Twilight greeted.

“Hey. How was cider season?”

“It’s complicated... do you need our help with something? Otherwise Vi and I are...” Spike shook his head, and Twilight turned back to the filly. “I’m not sure how much I agree with you that us trying to talk to them will have such a big effect on their social line of retreat. Can’t we just be careful not to antagonize them unnecessarily?”

“Hm.”

“We both know how to keep our emotions in check – well... almost all of the time – so we should manage not to upset them if we’re being careful. Although...” She hesitated. “... what if Applejack actually wants to make a better deal?”

“Ugh,” Vi made.

“I don’t think so, but maybe she thinks this is her one big chance to grow her business? We shouldn’t just take that away from her, I think.”

“You can ask her first,” Vi conceded, “but try to make her not want it.”

“‘You’?” Twilight echoed. “Just me?”

“Um, yes, I was going to say, I think you should go alone. It would seem weird to have me there. A child telling them what to do is more likely to backfire, I think.”

Twilight nodded slowly. “Good point.”

“So then our plan is, you talk to Applejack, get confirmation that she’s okay with you trying to solve the problem, and, conditionally on her giving it, you talk to Flim and Flam next, trying to get rid of the problem at best, and if not hopefully not make things worse,” Vi summarized. “Plan?”

Twilight nodded again. “Sounds good to me.”

“And,” Vi asked over two hours later, when Twilight returned, “how did it go?”

Twilight sighed. “I think I was wrong about you being wrong about me being right...”

Vi frowned, taking a few moments to untangle the sentence. “... so you did antagonize them?”

Twilight nodded. “I was really trying to be nice, but...” She groaned. “They’re such! ... children!”

“Did you lose your temper, or-”

Twilight shook her head. “I was nice the whole time. But any suggestion that they might possibly not be doing everything perfectly well is an immediate red flag. There is no talking rationally with them.”

“Did you find out what their plan is?”

“I’m not sure. I think they just want to rile up the crowd, and talk the apples into letting them use some of their... well, apples.” She gave yet another deflated sigh. “Do you have any ideas on how we best control this now?”

“Yes,” Vi replied immediately, “just don’t cooperate anymore. At all. Don’t let them use any more apples. And as soon as they try to put on pressure by saying that the apply family is selfish and values profits over ponies getting to drink cider, tell everyone that they said they’ll run them out of business. Go back to that again and again, and just refuse to make further business with them. Eventually, they have to give up.”

Twilight had looked at VI while she had said this, then she looked out of the window above the desk. Then she looked back at Vi.

“I don’t like it,” she eventually said. “It puts all of our cards on them not having access to apples. What if they just ask to buy them? What if somepony else offers them apples they bought?”

Vi nodded. “Good point. Should have thought that through more.”

“I wonder how this would have played out if you weren’t here,” Twilight murmured, when some time had passed without either of them having come up with a better idea. “I wouldn’t have done anything like this. We’d have just let things run their course and hoped they turn out well.”

“Do they usually?”

Twilight gave her a pensive look, then she nodded. “Yeah.”

“If we live in a caring universe, and if the elements are important enough, that might not be coincidence.”

“Hm. Even if that’s true, I wouldn’t want to rely on it.”

“No,” Vi said, “certainly not.” Then, “What does the law say about situations like these? Is there any part regulating that somepony with a better product can’t just bully an established business out of existence?”

Twilight shook her head. “Celestia once explained to me that she doesn’t want to have laws that specific, because that would mean there have to be more, and fewer ponies will read them. She also said that written rules are not flexible enough to deal with complicated situations. She’s worried they wouldn’t always be fair.”

“So there is no protection?”

“There can be, just not as a pre-formulated rule. Everything that isn’t explicitly covered under law is up to judgment from authority... which is usually the local mayor, unless it’s something really important, then it goes straight to Canterlot. That way, somepony who is more in touch with the problem herself, and who has been democratically elected, gets to make the decision.”

“So if you asked the mayor...”

“Hm.” Twilight drove her tongue over her lips, thinking. “You know, I remember something else. When Flim and Flam introduced themselves, they said something like ‘it’s like this in every town.’ It made it sound like they had tried similar things before. Which is odd... because as you put it, their product is working... ... unless it isn’t.”

“But they were eager to have other ponies try it, right?”

“Yeah, I guess...” Twilight’s voice trailed off. “Vi, how likely you think it is that two air-headed guys with almost no self-control or self-awareness really built a machine that makes cider as good as and faster than a family who’s been doing it for decades?”

“More likely than that they built a machine that appears to make cider as good and faster but fails in some kind of hard-to-see way. I don’t think the universe works like that. If a problem is hard, it’ll just be hard to solve it. It’s not going to make up reasons after the fact for why you having solved it isn’t proper.”

“There are some problems that are easier to pseudo-solve than to actually solve, I think.”

“Okay, but making cider?”

“Why not?”

“Well, I don’t see how a pseudo-cider-making machine would work, especially not one that’s still supposed to be profitable in the short term. It’d have to be something like, the cider tastes fine but after a week everyone drinking from it gets sick. I think it’s much more likely that it just makes cider, period.”

Twilight nodded. “I think you’re right.” A pause. “Well, Applejack is trustworthy. If she and I go to the mayor and we tell her what Flim and Flam have said to her, that should solve the problem. There is just one comp-”

“No,” Vi interrupted.

“What?”

“That wouldn’t solve the problem. It would just relocate the problem. If these guys have tried this in other towns before, they’ll probably just choose the next one after they fail here.”

Twilight gave Vi a very long look.

“And I assume what they’d do there is just as much a concern to you as what they do here?”

“No,” Vi admitted, “but it still concerns me. If we want to do the right thing, just sending them off for somepony else to deal with doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense.”

“We want to get rid of them specifically because the apple family isn’t interested in their deal. In another town, maybe they can make a contract everypony’s happy with.”

“But we don’t just want to get rid of them because the apples aren’t interested in automation. We also want to get rid of them because we don’t like automation in general... or at least I don’t. Particularly not with air-headed ponies in charge. What if their machine ends up becoming a really big deal and this whole thing spreads? Or even if it doesn’t, who says they don’t bully another family business before it blows over?”

“I would feel better too if they gave up on automation altogether and tried something else,” Twilight admitted. “... preferably something which can’t hurt other ponies. But what do you want to do? We can’t prevent them from doing business just because we don’t like it.”

“What is Celestia’s stance on automation?” Vi asked instead of responding. “It seems to me like you should either encourage and steer, or prevent it, but not just leave it up to chance.”

Twilight shrugged. “No idea. We’ve never talked about it.”

“Mmh... is there any way we could find out more about them?”

“I guess we could travel to other towns and ask the ponies there, or we could ask the mayor whether she’s heard of them before, or check the crime registers in Canterlot. But I doubt they’ll show up there.” She shrugged. “I don’t know what else.”

“The way a school should deal with bullies is for the teacher to tell them off...” Vi murmured. “But no-one can tell grown-up bullies what to do, not unless they’re breaking the law. Making them fail here isn’t a permanent solution. Reforming them isn’t practical. Make them want something else... ugh, no. We know too little and have too few tools on our side.”

“We can always go to them and explain why being a bully is bad,” Twilight suggested. “If we’ve already made sure they can’t do anything here, it can’t hurt.”

“Does this usually work?”

Twilight gave a shrug and a sheepish smile. “Sometimes.”

“Well, I don’t see any reason why we should deal with them or let them try to persuade anypony if we have an easier way. I think getting them kicked from Ponyville is correct either way, but it’s not a satisfying solution.”

“There’s one more problem with that.”

“Oh. Right, I interrupted you there.”

Twilight nodded.

“What is it?”

“Um,” Twilight began carefully, “there is a regulation stating that if you adopt somepony, you’re supposed to notify the local mayor. I haven’t been doing that because... well. ... look, Vi. When I agreed to take you in, I didn’t expect it to be permanent. At least I think I didn’t. I never planned to kick you out, but I thought maybe something would happen that would clarify things, or solve the problem in some other way. And I didn’t expect us to become... friends like this. It won’t not a big deal if I’m a few weeks late, so I had planned to wait until I know more... otherwise, what am I even supposed to tell her?”

Vi nodded. “That makes sense.”

“Well – then what do you suggest we do?”

“I’ll tell you. My secret, I mean. Then we can decide together. Um. It’s nothing... new. I mean, nothing different about who I am. It’s just... well.”

She raised her gaze, and there was a moment when they looked directly into each other’s eyes.

“I didn’t come here by accident. The plan was always to get close to the elements, because I thought knowing them will be... helpful. I never expected It to work quite this well, but... even if I had just stayed somewhere in Ponyville, it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“‘Improving social standing’,” Twilight quoted. Vi nodded.

“And I’m actually from outside of Equestria. That’s it.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “Outside of Equestria? Where?”

“Lûn.”

“Lûn...” Twilight murmured. She turned around, her horn glowing. “That is... it’s to the north, right?”

Vi nodded, while a folded piece of paper made its way out of the deepest corners of a shelf. Hastily, Twilight spread the map out onto the desk.

There was Equestria, as everpony knew it. At its north, there was the still-familiar cluster of mountains, and north of that, an open-ended area of largely blank space. In capital letters, the name ‘Lûn’ was written across its length, and the word ‘unfinished’ right below it. There was nothing there beyond the rough outline of two rivers coming out of the mountain area, dissolving into white nothingness, and a large sea to the east.

“How far?” Twilight asked in a whisper.

“Probably just barely off the edge on your map. I’ve traveled for a hundred and three days. I kept count.”

Twilight bit her lip, her eyes wandering across the empty area.

“I’ve always thought you had just run out of an orphanage in Manehattan...” she murmured. “But this... how did you make it over the mountains? Here?” She took the quill to point at a spot where, even though it wasn’t immediately obvious from just looking at the map, the contour lines indicated an area where the mountain mass descended from both sides.

Vi nodded. “That was the easiest part of the whole journey, actually. It was very peaceful... and beautiful.”

“And once you were past them, you used the train?”

“Only after about a week. I didn’t know there was one at first.”

“And... before that? You had to have risked your life traveling alone, didn’t you? If it were easy, others would do it, too.”

“I did. Once, I was captured and held for about a day. But it was more of a symbolic capture. They thought I couldn’t possibly want to go further, and that I would voluntarily work there.” Vi gave a cough. “I didn’t. That was just a two-day walk from the Shrouded Forest... which is the part that’s considered too dangerous to go through.

I’ve learned enough to know that animals, even carnivores, won’t touch you if you smell bad enough to them. Not every smell will work for any animal, but there are some smells which no animal I know of will come close to. I’ve figured out how to make myself smell like that... that was the main part of my preparations... using magic and... um, something else. It worked almost flawlessly. The problems I did have were all... with different things. If that became public knowledge, then... yeah, others could do the same.”

“Did...” Twilight whispered, and for the first time, she sounded afraid. “In Lûn. Do they... did you e-ever eat-”

“No! Jeez, Twilight! They’re not as civilized, but they’re civilized enough not to eat corpses!”

Twilight gave a sigh of relief. “Thank Celestia.”

“I don’t think there is any place in the world where ponies eat corpses. But Celestia has nothing to do with it. I know it’s a figure of speech, but... she doesn’t do anything outside of Equestria.”

Twilight nodded. “I know.”

“Which there could be good reasons for,” Vi added. “I’m not saying she’s doing it wrong or that she should do more. Better to help fewer ponies at a lower risk.”

“Vi, do you know how much most ponies here know about life outside of Equestria?”

“No. Probably not much?”

“Almost nothing. I’m not sure if Pinkie Pie even knows that there is something other than Equestria on the plane. See all this empty space? On a regular map, that would just be missing. I had to really search to find one that even acknowledges the existence of land beyond Equestria, and at least includes their positions and names. Almost our entire society is built around not thinking about it. It’s not even taught in school.”

“Well,” Vi said, “I’m not upset by that. Equestria is expanding, right?” Twilight nodded. “So Celestia is playing the long game, or at least that’s how it looks to us. As she should. Too much awareness about the problems outside could put pressure on her to do more, which might not be good at all.”

A few moments passed in silence, then Twilight spoke up again.

“What has your life been like?”

“It’s been harsh,” Vi responded, “but liveable. I mean, many ponies live there, and most of them lead fairly normal lives, just with less wealth, more conflict, and much more danger. Mostly health-related risks. It’s pretty common for ponies to die in their fifties or sixties from a disease which is in theory treatable.”

“But there is peace?”

Vi shook her head. “Not right now. The region I lived in has been in conflict since before I was born, but it’s been clear that we’re going to win for years now. It’s more of a seek and slaughter than a war, at this point. Nopony from our family has had to serve in the military, if that’s what you mean.”

“‘Your family?’” Twilight echoed. “Are they still alive?”

“Oh, yes. Both parents are alive, and I have two older sisters, one older brother, three younger sisters, and one younger brother. No dead siblings, unless you count miscarriages.”

“Eight children. Is that normal?”

“Five is normal. Eight is a bit unusual, but not much.”

“And they just let you go?”

They both spun around as they heard steps from the staircase. Present-mindedly, Twilight folded in the map and made it disappear beneath some of the other sheets, before, for the second time that day, Spike walked in on them.

“Spike! You startled me.”

“Um... sorry?”

Twilight shook her head. “Never mind. Where have you been?”

“Hanging out with Rainbow Dash. It was super fun! Uh, Vi, I need your help with something, can you-”

“Not now,” Twilight interrupted him. “We’re discussing something important.”

“Oh. What’s it about?”

“That’s... um. Is it a secret?” She looked at the filly.

Vi hesitated. “... yes, I think it is. Sorry, Spike.”

“A secret? Your secret?”

Not confirming anything, Twilight’s gaze once more fixated on Vi, who nodded.

“What? You told her? And I can’t know? Come on!”

“It’s not that I have a problem with you knowing it,” Vi said, “it’s that I want to keep it from reaching other ponies.”

“I can keep quiet!”

“It’s not negotiable, Spike. I’m sorry, but trustworthiness needs to be earned, and I’ve heard you lie before, and-”

“So has Rarity! Are you going to keep it from her, too?”

“Yes,” Vi said firmly. “It’s not everypony but you, Spike, it’s just Twilight and Fluttershy.”

“Mhpff,” Spike made, but the tone of his voice made it clear that the response had made him feel a bit better.

“There is nothing to worry about,” Twilight said to Spike. “Knowing of her secret didn’t make me want to kick her out. But we still have some things to discuss. You’ll excuse us.” She made a nod for the staircase, signaling the filly to follow her.

“They weren’t happy about it,” Vi whispered on the way down, “but yes, they let me go. They’re too smart to do anything else.”

“And the plan was always the same?” Twilight whispered back. “Get close to the elements-”

“-work on self-improvement, and eventually start doing research. Yes.”

They reached the bottom floor. Vi followed the older pony into the kitchen.

“I have no problem with what you did,” Twilight murmured while she poured herself a glass of water. “I understand why you did it, and I can’t tell you that you’re wrong. But from now on, you can tell me everything, okay?”

“I will. You’re the best friend I’ve ever made, Twilight.”

Twilight blushed, accepting the compliment with a nod and a smile.

“What do we tell the mayor?” She then asked. “I don’t think anything bad will happen if we’re being honest, but I can’t guarantee that it stays a secret.”

“Can you avoid telling her?”

“I don’t think so. The mayor and I aren’t that close.” Twilight hesitated. “I’m willing to lie for you, Vi, if you want me to, but-”

“I don’t,” Vi replied, immediately and in a firm voice. “But thank you.”

“... so we just tell her the truth?”

Vi fidgeted a bit, taking her time with an answer.

“... can you try to avoid it?”

Twilight nodded.

“Then do that, please, and if you can’t, tell her the truth, and emphasize that it’s private information.”

Twilight nodded again. “Alright...”

“What seems to be the problem here?”

“Oh my oh my, out of cider, again?”

“What have we here? Who’d like a cup?”

“Ahem.” Calmly, Applejack took a step towards the machine. “You know that you can’t sell this cider – or any cider – here in Ponyville.”

“Says who?”

“I say so.” The mayor stepped forward, Twilight at her side. “You are not legally permitted to sell goods or offer services that directly compete with an established business in Ponyville.”

“Oh!” Flim made.

“Wow!” Flam made. “Can you believe that, everypony? The mayor herself wants to-”

“Furthermore,” the mayor continued, her voice now amplified by a spell from Twilight, “I have already informed you of this yesterday.” Flim tried to say something else but his voice was simply drowned under the much higher volume of the other pony’s. “Twilight has warned me that you might try to come anyway, hoping I would not dare to refuse you out of fear of angering a crowd. Well, everypony, I will have you know that Flim and Flam threatened to run Sweet Apple Acres out of business yesterday, when all they did was to refuse a deal that would favor Flim and Flam seventy-five to twenty-five. In light of this clear attempt to undermine my authority, I declare that not only are you two not allowed to open a business, but you are not welcome to even stay in this town for as long as you do not apologize! Applejack is a kind and generous mare, and we all owe her our support. It is only because of her that we were able to fix Town Hall this quickly. I was elected to represent each of you alike, so let me use this moment to you all: now that you know the full story, is there anypony who has an objection? Anypony besides Flim and Flam?”

“Thank ya kindly,” Applejack said to the mayor , and each of the other five – Twilight, Vi, and the three other apples – gave murmured approvals. In the distance, the machine of Flim and Flam could be seen driving off.

“It was not pleasant,” the mayor replied, “but it had to be done. It is clear that you were right about them, Twilight.”

Twilight nodded. “Some ponies are really just out for trouble,” she murmured. “Nopony has done anything to provoke them.”

“I do hope this did not ruin your experiences with this town, my little lady,” the mayor said to Vi, “did it?”

“Um,” Vi made. “No.”

“Good.” She smiled. “I want everypony to feel welcome in Ponyville.”

“I like it a lot here,” Vi said politely, “thank you very much.”

The older pony nodded, giving Vi a barely noticeable wink and a smile. “Well,” she then said, “now that this matter is taken care of, I am afraid I must head back to town. I still have some unfinished business to attend to.”

“‘course,” Applejack said immediately. “And we gotta get back to work. Cider season ain’t over yet. Now, thanks to yer help, we can put all our efforts into makin’ lots of new cider for tomorrow. ...” She gave a frown, throwing a look to where the line had been minutes ago. Nopony had voiced any support for the intruders, but most had still been left unsatisfied with the lack of an alternative source of their precious drink. “... I hope that’ll cheer them up some.”

“We’ll work extra hard to make enough cider for everypony!” Applebloom exclaimed. “You should come too, Misses Mayor!”

The pony in question gave a somewhat artificial laugh, and it took a few more flowery nothings from both sides until she departed. Not long after, the apples did the same.

“I don’t feel great about this,” Vi said in a quiet voice, when at last, Twilight and she were left all alone. “It feels like we just gave up...”

Twilight looked at her.

“We’ve won the battle we’ve picked,” she said. “That has to be enough.”

But Vi didn’t return the gaze, staring at the point where Flim and Flam had disappeared with worried eyes.

“I don’t know, Twilight. We’ve only won the battle that affected us personally. Whatever they do in the next town they land in, we’ll have let it happen. If we were the ones feeling the consequences, maybe we would have tried harder.”

“Tried harder how? We both concluded there was nothing we could do.”

Vi shook her head. “Only that we couldn’t think of anything. Imagine we were both ten times as smart as we are. Do you really think we would still have done nothing?”

“Hmh. Maybe not? But we aren’t.”

“No,” Vi murmured, “no, we’re not. Still, there probably is something, and we didn’t find it...”

“Well,” Twilight said into the spreading silence, “at least we both made a new friend. Isn’t that worth something?”

Vi giggled. “We’ve been friends before today, Twilight.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Hey!”

Both of them laughed, and then Vi leaned her head against the older pony’s side, closing her eyes.

“Almost sleeping time,” she murmured.

“Do you still dream?”

“Mh-mh. I even write them down, sometimes. You get better at remembering them that way.”

“Yeah, I’ve done that, too.”

“Oh? Did you keep the transcripts?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d like to read them.”

“Sure.”

A pause.

“Vi?”

The filly opened her eyes at the more serious tone, taking a step backwards.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re living with me.”

VI noticeably blushed, lowering her gaze.

“Thanks...”

Twilight smiled, making a nod back towards town.

“Wanna go home?”

Author's Note

Boolean is the commonly used term for a data type which can take exactly two values. They can be referred to as 0 and 1, or, perhaps more intuitively, as FALSE and TRUE. This corresponds to exactly one bit of information, the smallest amount there is (though it is said that, in real life, java requires 9 bytes (72 bits) to store a single boolean). It is a data type which can describe real-world statements; given that every statement which is neither ambiguous nor recursive is always either true or false.

3^3 = 100 is either true or false (namely, false). A fairly young guy by the name of Reev was meant to play the lead character in a story with that name that has never seen the light of day is either true or false (namely, true). He had been doing fighting sports for most of his life even though he was perfectly peaceful, possessed extraordinary physical strength even though he didn’t even particularly care about it.

It was a story meant to have the broadest possible concept. A series that would go on forever, because there could always be totally new things happening... even though, as imagination progressed, concepts were thought out which were too specific to really allow for that.

Imagine a world which operates by throwing individual people (or sometimes pairs or small groups) back through time every couple of decades, so as to never progress beyond a certain point in time. Consider the paradox that arises from the conflicting observations that a) this process will never bring dead people back to life and b) of course it brings dead people back to life all the time – it goes fifty years into the past. Imagine a 400-or-so year old person who has been thrown back by reality half a dozen times already, and has gone through the 1930s and 40s two times already. Imagine that on the third time she decides that she doesn’t want to see Hitler rise to power yet again, and puts an end to him in a clever assassination attempt (one that actually works). Due to the previously stated rule a), he will never come back, and history will be changed for all future iterations.

It gets weirder. Imagine you meet someone you know in your current timeline. Another observation is that memories are never wiped out (although of course they are wiped out all the time). You could talk about all the different timelines you have been through... perhaps either of you has been missing in some of them? Perhaps way more time has been passing for her? But if you stick together from now on, reality will kindly throw you back as a pair. So you can live through history again. And again. And again. And again.