Hmm, Ifrit thought to himself as he floated slowly above Ponyville, invisible to the few pegasi still outside and flying during dinnertime. I believe my last couple of wishes have given me enough power to change ponies without them wishing directly to me. Perhaps I should experiment, to ensure I am correct.

Reaching out with his mind again, he assessed the powerful magical sources still within Ponyville. Ifrit frowned as the chaos user he’d seen earlier remained undetected. He may become a problem later. I’ll have to think of something to stop him from destroying what progress I’ve made.

Mentally filing his chimera problem for another time, Ifrit centered on another out-of-the-way location, a homestead made from clouds with rainbow waterfalls. I suppose I should pick a more remote location to test it. Fewer ponies nearby to hear them shout for help if something goes wrong.

Ifrit approached the cloud home, soon hearing muffled conversation. His ears perked. Ah, perhaps I might also see if I’m capable of affecting more than one pony at a time with my magic now…? He found a window and peered through, still invisible in case any wandering eyes spotted him.

Rainbow Dash exited her kitchen, reclining on a chair in her den. “OK, recipe says to let it cook for fifteen minutes, so we’ve got some time to kill.”

Her parents cheered from where they sat beside each other on the couch.

“Yeah! Rainbow Dash, number one cook!”

“I’d bet a thousand bits you’re the best home chef in Ponyville!”

Rainbow Dash groaned. “Please don’t start that again.”

Her parents’ joyful expressions froze, and Windy Whistles nervously rubbed her hooves together. “We’re sorry sweetie. Even if we know you appreciate it best in moderation, we still can’t help but feel proud of how grown-up you’ve become.”

Bow Hothoof nodded. “It’s tough not to vocalize our appreciation for you inviting us for dinner tonight, too. I’m glad we’re all willing to let bygones be bygones and start fresh.”

Rainbow sighed. “Me too. Just... don’t go overboard, OK?”

Windy and Bow nodded. “We won’t.”

“Thanks.”

A moment of uncomfortable silence stretched over the room, until Windy Whistles asked: “So how are your friends doing?”

She shrugged. “They’re doing OK. Scootaloo’s going out with the CMC pretty much daily now. She told me Sweetie Belle’s thinking of getting Rarity and Applejack’s help to start the Crusaders as a formal business, helping ponies find or rediscover their talents.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Windy interjected. “I do hope she succeeds. She’s a lovely young mare, and she’ll be doing good work.”

Rainbow laughed. “Yeah, she is pretty awesome. Twilight’s holed herself up in her castle again, although I think that’s more because Spike got called away right in the middle of spring cleaning and she’s gotta pick up the slack. At least Starlight’s around to help her make her lists and such, otherwise she might just disappear until next spring!” Rainbow laughed aloud, and her parents shared a smile.

“How about your Flight School friend?” Windy asked.

“Who?” Rainbow asked, tilting her head back to look at her mom.

“Oh yes, er, sorry, I forget her name,” Bow added. “But you speak of her very kindly.”

Rainbow scoffed. That’s easy, it’s... She looked away, uncertainty creeping over her face. Wait, I should know this! She’s been my friend since...

“I... don’t remember,” Rainbow finally said.

“Oh, but you can do it, you can remember!” Windy cheered.

“Yeah! Rainbow Dash, best rememberer!” Bow added.

“Agh, stop it! Just, please excuse me for a second!” Rainbow said, before flying out of her chair upstairs to her room.

Ifrit narrowed his eyes. Either my magic must have been weaker than I thought, or these ponies have very old and powerful magic protecting them. They shouldn’t recall anything out of the ordinary about the ponies I’ve changed.

His attention snapped back to the two ponies still in the living room when Windy turned to look at Bow. “Was it something we said?” she asked.

“I... don’t know, honey,” Bow replied. “Maybe we pushed her too hard again?”

Windy frowned and snuggled up close to her husband. “Oh, Bow... I can’t help but feel as if we’re stuck in a rut with her. Even when I know our support overwhelms her sometimes, I can’t seem to stop myself from cheering her on.”

Bow wrapped a hoof around her. “As horrible as it sounds... have you ever wished that, maybe, we might have done better by her being just a little less enthusiastic about our daughter’s achievements?”

Windy was quiet for a moment before whispering, “I’m wishing it right now...”

That’s all I need, Ifrit thought, smirking as he clapped his hands together.

Bow and Windy both perked their ears. “Did you hear that, honey?” Windy asked.

“Sounded like something outside,” Bow replied, looking toward the window but seeing nothing.

“I hope it’s not—nngh!” Windy interrupted herself, doubling over.

“Honey, are you alr—” Bow didn’t get very far until he too grunted in pain, letting go of Windy and sliding off the couch.

Windy Whistle’s frame thinned, giving her torso and legs a graceful form as she grew a couple inches. Her mane and tail lengthened, growing out into beautifully thick curls that framed her face as they darkened to a sleek black.

Bow Hothoof’s own mane and tail rustled, and his rainbow coloration he’d kept such pride in began discoloring, his orange stripe widening and pushing everything else out until his mane and tail were a single burnt shade of vermillion. His bulky build evened out, giving him a strong, limber appearance.

Bow stumbled to his hooves, coughing. “W-What’s going on, honey?!” He slapped a hoof over his mouth after he said it; the voice coming from his lips sounded like a smooth tenor, not his usual rough baritone.

“I don’t know!” was all Windy could say before she felt her face start to pinch. Her eyelashes curled, and her freckles faded and disappeared, leaving her fur smooth and unblemished. “I-I feel so...” her voice had changed too, taking on a more nasally, less squeaky timbre.

Bow hugged Windy tightly. “N-No matter what happens... I lo…!” He stopped short of saying it, falling silent.

“I...” Windy shuddered as her coat hairs tingled, tinting a silvery gray. She didn’t answer.

Bow’s coat brightened to saffron-yellow. His hooves slipped off his wife as he fell, landing on his back on the cloud floor. His wings molted, his feathers and coverts fluttering loose. Left bare, his wing bones and muscles wilted, shrinking back into his sides.

Windy Whistles followed suit, dozens of feathers decorating the couch as her wings’ skeletal structure twisted and jerked until it retracted into her torso, leaving her sides smooth as if nothing had ever been there.

Bow rolled back on all fours, groaning and putting a hoof to his head. Windy mimicked his action, patting a growing bump on her forehead as a horn corkscrewed out. She felt her coat brush against fabric, and looked down to see herself wearing a conservative blouse, typical of her formal dress. A luxurious suit and tie materialized on Bow’s back as he straightened, dusting himself off.

The couple looked at each other for a moment, their faces blank, as Rainbow Dash zoomed back downstairs. “Ugh, sorry for taking so long, I can’t find any pictures—” She stopped, hovering in midair, her jaw dropping. “Wh-Who are you? Where are my parents?”

They turned to Rainbow Dash, the male unicorn’s slightly confused eyes shifting from amber to green, the female unicorn’s from Rainbow’s own dark pink to a light purple.

Rainbow stared silently for a moment before bolting back upstairs.

Ifrit chuckled quietly before willing himself to rise to the cloud home’s second floor, finding another window to watch as Rainbow darted into her room, slamming the door behind her and bracing herself against it.

“W-Wh-What’s going on?!” she rasped, sweat beading on her face. “They... what is going on?!” Rainbow shook her head in confusion, as baffled by her inability to articulate what she was seeing as she was by the fact it was happening. Something... something had happened to her parents. When she’d seen them, every part of her mind insisted they were her mother and father, of course they were, but her heart said something was very, very wrong.

“And where are all my pictures?!” she shouted to herself, looking at the mess she’d made of her room. Her drawers had been pulled clear out from her cabinets, and she’d strewn everything in her room out on her floor trying to find something, anything, showing her and her friend. Rainbow knocked her hoof against her head. No, I remember her from somewhere, I... why can’t I remember?!

“Aaaaaargh!” Rainbow leapt onto her bed, her stomach flopping onto her Daring Do book series she’d haphazardly thrown on it. “Nothing’s making sense! What’s wrong with me?!” She worked a hoof between herself and her bedsheets, shoving her Daring Do books off the bed, not caring if she bent a spine or ripped a page. “I wish I understood what was happening!”

A clap echoed from her window.

Rainbow reacted immediately. “What was that? Who’s there?!” She flew up and looked outside, but the darkening skies revealed nopony. “You’d better not be... um...”

Rainbow yelped as she felt her wings falter. Flapping hard, Rainbow unsteadily glided back to her room’s floor, landing quickly.

“Ouch!” she cried out, sucking on her hoof from where she’d accidentally planted it on her leadpony cadet’s pin sticking out from a pile of her Wonderbolt knickknacks. “Stupid thing...” twisting her neck to look behind her, she quickly forgot her hoof’s ache to see her sides were bare.

“My wings! Where are my wings?!” She turned and grabbed at her sides, only to feel smooth fur and flesh, as if she’d never had them. Her rear hoof caught on her Young Flier’s trophy, pitching her forward and banging her head against her framed certification stating that she was a full-fledged Wonderbolt. The glass protector fractured, a large crack spiderwebbing across it from where Rainbow’s head had smacked into it.

“Oww...” she slumped to the floor, grasping at a growing welt on her forehead. I’m gonna feel that one in the morning—wait... her pain turned to panic as it grew more and more, tapering to a point as she crossed her eyes and looked up to see a horn in her peripheral vision.

O-OK, this is getting really freaky... she thought to herself, backing up against the cloud wall. First my mother and father seem off, then... she blinked. Wait, there was something before that. Something about... a friend? What in Equestria is going on? Am I losing it?

She looked around her room, feeling lost. A pile of books had fallen from her bed, landing in a heap. Despite her situation seeming so puzzling, she couldn’t help but feel a worried pang that maybe her novels had gotten damaged. I’ve kinda been tearing my room apart... Rainbow took a deep breath, calming herself down, before deciding to clean things up. It wouldn’t do if my mother glimpsed any of this mess...

Checking to ensure her books hadn’t suffered any harm, she organized them by volume number and squeezed them back where they belonged on the shelf. I should invest in a better bookcase... She examined her room again, making a face at all the scrolls that snaked around her bed and closet. Even with her permanently enchanting her home to be solid to everypony, not just the pegasi whose architecture she’d been inspired by—she did appreciate the floor’s softness in the mornings—she always harbored an irrational fear that one day she’d clean everything up and find some scrolls had fallen through and bopped somepony on the head. She always tried to keep her workspace orderly, but her surroundings always seemed to grow out of control before she got around to filing everything where it belonged.

Sighing, she levitated some of her quills back up to her desk from where they’d spilled on the floor with her light blue magic’s glow, moving past them toward her vanity as she sorted the pages of her drafts for the magic textbook she was authoring. She caught a glimpse of herself in her mirror and looked up, surprised. She saw a silver-coated unicorn with a shining, well-kept black mane, the spitting image of her mother. Only her younger age, her bright blue eyes, and her cutie mark differentiated her.

Is that...? She turned her flank to the side, for some reason expecting something colorful, but it was the same three-ringed starburst it had always been. She blinked, shaking her head, and looked herself over again. Huh. No, that’s most certainly me. Almost seemed for a second like I didn’t recognize...

She ceased her train of thought as she glanced to her left and saw her framed certificate. “Oh dear!” Carefully stepping around another pile of books about magic, she delicately levitated the frame free from the wall, looking carefully at the paper inside. Whew... it looks like the glass is still in one piece. I’d be quite upset if I had accidentally scratched the paper...

Peering past the clear surface’s cracks, she read: “This certifies that, by authority of the Senior Unicorn Mage Council, and approved by Her Royal Majesty Princess Celestia, the recipient Mithral Star has completed the Course for Study Prescribed for Graduation by Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns...”

Mithral’s thoughts flooded with memories from her graduation, her studies in magic, her promise in tutoring and helping her fellow classmates learn tricky spells... and her parents, thoroughly unimpressed when she declared she’d be moving away from Canterlot to write missives and guides for aspiring mages and wizards.

“Mithral!” she heard her mother shout from downstairs in her Canterlot accent. “It is impolite to leave while you’re entertaining guests! Or did we not we raise you any better?”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “I’m coming, Mother! I’ll only be a moment!” She couldn’t keep a scowl from creeping over her face. She’d really rather not have hosted her parents at all, but she wouldn’t dare refuse their suggestion to dine with her. One reason she disliked Canterlot was she had to play the nobles’ game and constantly be polite and generous, accepting proposals and offers she really didn’t want to. At least in Ponyville she wouldn’t be forever shunned for any gaffes.

From downstairs, she heard the timer she’d set start ringing, signaling her main course had finished cooking. Steeling herself, she carefully laid her diploma on her bed and trotted downstairs.

She entered her living room to see her parents sitting on her couch on opposite ends, idly gazing around her room, judging every nook and cranny with critical eyes.

“I apologize, Gold Brick and Silver Fish,” she announced formally, bowing before her parents in penance. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

Her mother, Silver Fish, tsked as she stared up away from Mithral Star at a column decorated with pegasus architecture’s elaborate Corinthian capitals. “You are beginning to sound like the farmers who live down here.”

“Yes,” Mithral answered carefully, minding her language as she spoke and enunciating her words. “It is common for a pony to adopt certain speech patterns and mannerisms when she lives among others who speak differently.”

Silver Fish hummed curtly. “I will not have my daughter becoming a hick.”

“I am not becoming a hick, Mother,” Mithral said, her tone completely disinterested despite feeling an unusually strong twinge of anger inside her. Internally, she wondered why she felt like her mother was insulting someone very close to her. “I do not associate with many Ponyville residents.”

“Perhaps it is for the best you do not,” Silver said. “You were raised a proper pony, and you shall remain so.” Mithral nodded, knowing their conversation was over, and entered her kitchen to remove their meal from her stove.

“You weaved these cloudwalking enchantments yourself, yes?” her father Gold Brick said, gingerly pressing a forehoof into the soft white floor.

“I did, Father,” Mithral answered, levitating several covered pots with her as she crossed through the living room into the dining room. “Dinner is ready.”

Gold Brick glanced down and tested the floor once again before looking up and following Silver to Mithral’s dining table, already set with plates, bowls, glasses, and silverware. Mithral placed the pots on hot pads she placed on the table before opening them one by one. “Soy jambalaya, corn and lima bean succotash, vegetable stew with fresh tomatoes, green beans, potatoes, bay leaf.” It was more than she’d usually make for herself, but the bare minimum of cooking for her parents was a lot higher than even most Ponyvillians’ “upscale” expectations. She had no chance of meeting their bar for excellence making foods they usually ate in Canterlot with only ingredients from Ponyville, so she hoped they’d be more forgiving of meals they considered “earth pony food.”

Her parents remained stone-faced as she served them before serving herself, filling everyone’s glasses with ice water. Silver Fish said grace, and Mithral daintily scooped up a mouthful of jambalaya, chewing quietly.

Gold Brick stared at his plate, his fork hovering over his food. Mithral cleared her throat and asked, “Is something wrong with your food, Father?”

He looked up at her briefly before returning his gaze to his plate. “No, Mithral, not at all. It’s merely... an atypical dish for your mother and I.” He took an uncertain bite of his succotash.

Mithral mentally berated herself, but her face showed not a single quiver. “I apologize if I did not meet your expectations.” Silence befell the table as the three ponies slowly ate their meals.

“Has your sister contacted you at all?” Silver Fish asked, dabbing at her lips with her napkin after setting down her water. She’d barely eaten anything from her plate.

“No, Mother, Morning Star has not contacted me.”

“So you do not know? She has been personally commended by Sir Cobalt for her excellent performance and marks in her classes. There is talk of her joining the Royal Guard as an elite mage.”

Mithral said nothing. She knew exactly what her mother was implying.

“It is a shame you left Canterlot, Mithral,” Gold Brick added. “Solar Gear had offered you an apprenticeship. You would have been slated to be a Senior Councilmember.”

“I am aware, Father,” she said. She kept her face neutral, but she knew the conversation might have terrible consequences if she said the wrong thing at the wrong time.

“Then why are you here? Why are you not where you belong, in Canterlot?”

Oppressive silence again overtook the table as everypony stopped eating. Mithral stared forward, her eyes focused on her saucepan filled with succotash, knowing she had instantly trapped herself in a corner.

She considered saying nothing, but doing so would condemn her as forever a disappointment to her family. Swallowing, she spoke:

“Father, I do not belong in Canterlot.”

“Why ever not?” Silver Fish asked. Her tone was purely inquisitive, but Mithral Star was well aware she was swimming in treacherous waters.

“Not all unicorns have the privilege of attending the educational institutions I have. I believe there are countless talented mages and wizards who could do wonderful things for Equestria and Equestrian citizens if they had access to higher education.”

“If they are truly talented,” Gold Brick said in a reasonable-sounding voice that Mithral knew meant he believed it as irrefutable fact, “they would come to Canterlot and attend our schools. Canterlot has long held a reputation for producing the most powerful magic users in Equestria. Even Princess Twilight Sparkle hails from Canterlot, and attended Celestia’s School.”

Not everypony can afford to live in Canterlot, Mithral Star thought. Not everypony lives in a city that has mandatory magic tests in kindergarten. Not everypony needs a diploma from Celestia’s School to be a great mage. Not everypony has a unicorn family, who can tell if their son or daughter is unusually gifted. Not everypony who’s made her mark upon magic’s history was born, lived her life, and died in Canterlot. Not everypony believes magic is a mark of privilege and not a right.

She said none of these things. She nodded and said, “Of course, Father. I only wish to spread Canterlot’s wisdom and scholarship to those less fortunate.”

“A goal many ponies may certainly find admirable,” Gold said. Mithral translated his sentence in her head: Your youthful ideals are absurd and you likely believe them because you think them fashionable, but I find it unpleasant nonetheless.

“But why must you leave Canterlot?” Silver Fish entreated. “You would have a bright future as a magic instructor. You may befriend the next Princess Twilight as she’s attending your classes. Perhaps Princess Celestia would even offer you the opportunity to personally tutor her future protégés.”

Mithral breathed in through her nose. “I have made my decision.” She couldn’t bring herself to look up, her vision affixed firmly on her plate.

Neither of her parents even missed a beat. “Of course, Mithral,” Silver Fish said. “We would never force anything on you.”

“You are your own mare,” Gold Brick said.

The dining table was silent for another moment or two, before Silver Fish rose from her seat. “Thank you for hosting us tonight, Mithral. We are most gracious of your efforts.”

Gold nodded, rising as well. “We wish you the best, as always.”

Mithral got up and opened the door for them as they smoothly trotted out. They didn’t even spare a glance back as they stood upon her cloud lift, which slowly lowered them to the ground to their waiting chariot.

Mithral stood in the doorway, watching as the cloudlift returned to her doorstep and listening to hoofbeats, then wing flaps, faded toward Canterlot before slumping against the cloud frame. Taking deep breaths, she leaned back on her unsteady hooves and trotted back to the dining table. Between them, her parents had only taken a few bites from their food.

Her mouth quivered. At least I’ll have some leftovers for the next couple days. I don’t think I’ll be leaving home anytime soon. Sighing, she sat back in her chair and started numbly shoveling the now barely-warm food she’d prepared into her mouth.

Magic is for the many, not the few, she thought angrily to herself, finally allowing her face to show her true feelings as she glared at her stew bowl before scraping out as much as she could and stuffing it in her face. She huffed through her nostrils, feeling her cheeks bulge, wishing she could have spited her parents directly rather than bottling it up inside herself.

She swallowed, feeling lumpy masses of vegetables move down her throat, and coughed, magically lifting her glass and gulping down some water. Is it so wrong to want my family to support me? She didn’t think most parents disapproved of their children’s life choices like hers did...

Mithral exhaled after taking her water, looking at her mother’s fork daintily laid on her plate’s edge despite her more or less untouched food. Of course, that wasn’t what she really wanted. She knew there would be no turning back the moment she told her parents she was moving to Ponyville. What she really wanted was to get away from the city’s attitudes. The idea that magic knowledge was to be kept secret, only taught in clandestine schools where being wealthy meant more to whether you could attend than your actual magical aptitude, made her sick to her stomach. Magic was a gift, a gift to be shared. Perhaps her parents would never really understand anyway, considering her father was a bank investor and her mother spent more time politicking than practicing magic, but it still hurt.

“Is it so selfish to wish somepony might support me...?” she asked herself aloud. Of course, she knew it wasn’t selfish, but fruitless. You can’t always trust ponies to support you. Sometimes, all you have is yourself.

Sniffing and purging her mind from her bitter thoughts, Mithral Star stood, levitating all the table’s plates and bowls and bringing them into her kitchen. Perhaps I should get another chapter of my textbook finished tonight. I don’t feel like sleeping.

Ifrit watched from the windows as the once-rainbow-colored pony washed the dishes with her magic as if she’d used it all her life before moving upstairs and writing, her quill’s movement fluid, elegant, and exact. He smiled. Your wish for loyalty... will not be granted. He moved away from Mithral’s cloud home and Ponyville into the deepening night, relishing the feeling of his bolstered power thrumming inside himself.

“Half down, half to go,” Ifrit murmured. “And now that I’ve recovered some of my power, the next will be by far the easier half.” He smiled. “Perhaps it is time I start picking them off in Ponyville proper...”

Author's Note

Next Up: Scrounging Up Time, featuring Rarity and Sweetie Belle