"Of mentors and mothers, to disrespect the latter is worse."

A for Effort...

“Chaos theory?” Princess Twilight Sparkle looks me dead in the eye. I can almost hear the ‘Can’t you pick something else?’

“Yes, Princess,” I say, perhaps a little too quickly. My leg bounces nervously from my seat. “I know it’s similar to what I did last year, but–”

“Each and every of your fellow students was infected by Poison Joke,” she states, cutting me off. It doesn’t sound accusing–just honest. “Even so, unlike your current proposal, your project had a goal: to study how the flower manipulates equine magic, and to pave the way to a vaccination.”

“Which failed,” I admit.

“While that was not your most successful project,” Twilight clenched her teeth, “you did not fail. I do not condone unwilling test subjects, Juniper, but you did manage to collect some very real evidence that ‘the Poison Joke Curse’ can be prevented.

“Which is why I am not saying ‘no’.” Her tone is noticeably softer. “But I won’t grant any of your requests until you give me a solid hypothesis. What are you hoping to study Chaos Theory for, and why?”

I feel my coat heat up. Did I really think I could get by without Princess Twilight Sparkle asking a few questions?

“Do you promise not to laugh?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“I’m not one to ridicule my students, Juniper Cure.”

“Of course.” I cough. “Well, I’ve researched the topic before in my free time, but it didn’t go very far–I’ve only ever found one book on Chaos Theory.”

I shove my hoof into my saddle bags and take out Beware the Chaos Beast by Proper Order. I set it on the desk, hoping the book will speak for itself.

“A children’s book?” Princess Twilight asks. Her eyes widen slightly for a moment.

“About Discord, yeah,” I say, chuckling under my breath. “A creature of chaos whose magic functions inverse to that of natural equine magic! After reading this storybook, I started looking for any mention of ‘Discord’ in the media during the past century. I found mostly legends and other children’s picture books like Proper Order’s own, and I noticed a trend–they all took place during the same time period: the Royal Sisters’ Claim to Power.

“They all imply that Princesses Celestia and Luna earned their titles by vanquishing the Chaos Beast.”

“You gathered this from storybooks?” Twilight asks, eyebrow raised. I hope that means she’s interested.

“That and something else,” I say with a nod. “I also found a poem.”

“A… poem.”

“Yes.” I fish for a loose paper in my bag, a scanned version of the text. “Unorganized Terror, by Steady Pen.” I clear my throat.

“T’was a chaos beast of misery

He brought terrible discord toHarmony.

When the beast did arrive

He did laugh and did dance

Until was twisted, the mind of the pony.

“It’s written in limerick structure, which is strange enough on its own, but the poem’s content isn’t significant.” I take a breath. “Unorganized Terror isn’t from the last 100 years. It’s from the last 500.”

“Where did you find this…” The Princess pauses for a moment. “Limerick?”

“That’s even stranger–I found it under a coffee mug at Golden Oaks. In the cafe. At an empty table.” I try my best to look convincing. “Anyway, I thought it was a funny coincidence someone else was studying the same thing as me, so I took it. Later, when I was scanning some materials, something caught my attention. It was the hoofwritten poem registering as ancient material. I’d been using it as a bookmark,” I laugh nervously.

“So I ran further tests on Unorganized Terror, and both the ink and the parchment are about 460 years old.”

“That certainly is strange,” Twilight says. I nod.

“Especially since it doesn’t seem to have any damage from simply existing for so long. It could have been written yesterday,” I say. “If I hadn’t accidentally scanned it, I never would’ve guessed.”

“And why is the poem’s age important, Juniper?” Twilight asks. Her tone easily shows her impatience, or is it exasperation?

“Discord isn’t a new legend, Princess. He’s been a symbol of chaos for over four centuries, and it’s always in relation to the origin of the Royal Sisters,” I say carefully. “And I noticed that the legend of the Chaos Beast was familiar. A forgotten magical historical figure?”

“The Mare in the Moon,” Twilight finishes my thought. “So your hypothesis?”

“If Discord exists, then he is in hiding. I want to know what he is and how his magic works. After all, what better way to study Chaos Theory than to study a beast bred from it?” I hold my breath. Hopefully, that didn’t sound too theatrical.

“You want to find Discord?”

I blink. I was expecting something more along the lines of ‘Are you feeling ill?’ or ‘Do you really think that storybook villain exists?’

“Or at least find out what happened to him,” I affirm.

“What do you plan to do?”

Outline time.

“The author of the first book, The Chaos Beast, is alive and living in Old Canterlot. I plan to talk to him and figure out what resources he used to write it. Then follow the information from there. If Discord doesn’t exist, I’ll discover where and why the legend started. If it turns out he does exist…”

“You want a travel pass so you can go and look for him.” Princess Twilight’s brows knit together. “This is… more ambitious than your usual pitch, Juniper Cure.”

“I know, Princess. But Chaos Theory is the most understudied branch of magic in the world. It’s been a stagnant field for over 400 years!”

“Since the Six Branches of Magic were established, yes…” Twilight trails off. She looks off into the distance for a moment, probably thinking about something. She breaks into a small chuckle. “Sometimes I swear ‘Cure’ is short for ‘Curious’.”

I feel my cheeks burn as I let out a nervous giggle in response.

“So, you’re going to find this ‘Proper Order’ and hope he cooperates?” Princess Twilight’s small smile turned into a smirk. She wants to know if I have a backup.

“Hoping, yes, but I’m not banking on it,” I respond. “If he refuses to talk or doesn’t add anything new, I’d like to interview one or both of the Royal Sisters.” I smile sheepishly.

“You want to talk to Celestia and Luna?” She seems amused.

“Well, with how many times they’re referenced in Discord stories, I think they at least know something. Even if he is made up, they could point me in the right direction to figuring out the legend’s origin.”

“I see.” She hums a little. “So, you’d like a travel pass to go interview a few leads on a legend, and a stipend to jump start research on a dormant branch? All based on figuring out whether or not Discord exists?”

“Well, when you say it like that…” I gulp. “Yes, Princess.”

Without another word, Princess Twilight retrieves a small booklet from a drawer in her desk. She writes something down with a bright red quill, and tears out the page. She levitates the paper to me and smiles.

“Juniper Cure, Fourth Flare of the Harmony Division, I hereby grant a weekly stipend of 750 bits a week dedicated to the study of Chaos Theory and the research of Discord.”

I take the note in my hooves. It’s more or less a receipt for a year-long stipend. It’s like I’ve won a golden ticket, and I’m off to tour Bittersweet Swirl’s Chocolate Factory.

“Any questions?” Twilight asks.

“No,” I say breathlessly. “Thank you, Princess.” I realize I’m still staring at the stipend note. I look back up at her, barely containing my excitement. “Thank you, Princess Twilight! I won’t let you down!”

“I know, Juniper, I know.”

Every pitch day, my parents take me out to dinner.

My parents, Willow Wisp and Oak Grove, love spoiling me after any and every success, big or small. They also love to excessively console me after any failures or disappointments. These tendencies result in yearly expensive dinners, whether or not I pass the interview. I mean, I’ve never failed an interview, but we did have an exceptionally nice night in the city after last year’s poison joke fiasco…

We always go to my favorite place, Weatherwind’s Kitchen.

It’s fairly upscale, but there’s no dress code and the food is great. The staff is also pretty diverse, shying away from both the ‘unicorn chefs mean it’s better’ and the ‘only earthponies are cooks’ themes. But even a tribal equity establishment like Weatherwind’s doesn’t have any non-equine employees.

My parents are suckers for tradition, and the family carriage shows it. While I admit it’s nice, and even air-conditioned like a regular automobile, I can’t help but feel like we’re showing off as we ride through town in our ebony carriage pulled by the family drivers. Earthpony pride, they say. As a pegasus, I can’t say I feel the same.

I brighten up as Weatherwind’s Kitchen comes into view. Hank and George (the gryphon drivers) park the carriage while we’re seated inside.

For a Friday night, it’s fairly uncrowded. A few empty tables are set inside, and barely anyone is seated out on the patio. Odd, but not completely unusual.

“So! When do you start?” Mother asks. She studies a menu intently, but I know she always orders the same thing.

“I’m taking a week to prepare–I leave next Friday,” I say. Hm, it looks like the Head Chef added a few new dishes.

“How long do you think you’ll be out there?” My dad asks. He hasn’t picked up a menu yet, but is enjoying his ice water and complimentary breadsticks.

“Nothing longer than a year, Dad. It’s not like I’m going far. And I’ll probably stay in Harmonia most of the time,” I respond with a good natured eyeroll. “The travel pass is really just in case.” Lemon tofu parmesan sounds good.

“Chasing that silly legend,” says my mother, still looking at the menu.

“Mom, you know that’s not why–”

“I’m well aware of your ambitions Juniper,” my mother says, cutting me off. “I’m just not sure this is the best use of your time.”

An awkward silence passes between us.

“What she means, Junie, is that we feel you should be studying topics more related to your special talent than… Chaos Theory,” Dad says. He mutters the last two words quieter as if someone might jump out and reprimand him.

“Many herbs fall under the branch of chaos magic, and no one really knows how they work. If I can even do a little bit to get more ponies into studying Chaos Theory, I can find out more about chaotic flora and fungi.”

“Like Poison Joke?” My mother sniffs.

“Now Willow,” Dad says warily.

“It’s okay, Dad.” I shake my head. “Mom, isn’t my last end-of-year project getting a little old? I mean, it’s been a year.” It’s also been mentioned like a million times today.

My mother sets the menu down flat with an audible SLAP.

“The Arbor Clan learn from their mistakes,” she says sternly. “I’m not disproving of your ideas, Juniper. But I am afraid you won’t get the results you desire. There’s a reason no one studies Chaos Theory.”

“That’s what they said about electricity a couple centuries ago,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Except electricity is useful and vital to our society. What will studying chaos plants do?” Mom leans over the table, inching closer to me with a steady glare.

“That’s the thing–I don’t know! No one knows! It could be anything–cures to diseases, new potions, or something completely new. Or ponies like you could be right and nothing comes out of it. But we’ll never know until proper research is done.” I gasp for air as I realize I hadn’t stopped to take a breath. My dad places his hoof on mine and I realize I’ve stood up from my seat, drawing a few gazes toward us. I cough and sit down.

“Juniper,” my mother says. The corners of her mouth turn down slightly. “I understand. I’m just worried.”

“We both are,” Dad says, still holding my hoof. “We just want what’s best for you.”

“...I know,” I admit. I take my hoof back and massage my temples. “This is just really important to me.”

“And we know,” Mom says, offering a small smile.

The sound of someone clearing their throat loudly comes from beside me.

“Excuse me, but are you ready to order?”

Old Town Harmonia is lovely to walk through at night. Which is exactly why I decided to walk home, leaving my parents to the carriage.

Old Town is where Ponyville once stood, and much of the charm still remains (or so I’m told). Of course, the street lamps and paved roads are new, as well as the modern buildings meant to look like old-timey cottages, but it does feel like walking back in time whenever I’m here. All the Elements’ former homes are now combination museums and memorials, seen to by a hoofpicked team lead by the Princess herself. When I was a filly, I visited all five of them more times than I can count.

I’ll be honest–Most of my love for Old Town stems from nostalgia.

But the reason for the walk? Can’t a mare take a relaxing walk through a beautiful town after a long day?

After 9 p.m. nightlife flourishes in Old Town. Restaurants close their kitchens and turn into lively bars. Live bands and performers play in Town Square. The Apple Family Orchard Tavern boasts music, drink, and good food. If this is what the world used to be like, I can’t say I blame the Princess for romanticizing the past so much.

I take a detour to Town Square to see what’s playing.

I’m met with something else.

“–creatures are biologically attuned to different occupations! The tribal trinity brings good weather, reliable food staples, and daunting magic! If it weren’t for equinekind, the heavenly bodies wouldn’t move and the skies would be unpredictable. Civilization would be overrun with plants and beasts! In fact, civilization wouldn’t exist without ponies to tend to it.”

A chorus of shouts follows the tirade, both in agreement and protest. As I approach Town Square, the rambunctious crowd comes into view.

An Equestria First rally.

“Lesser equine tribes are important–they have their own jobs and talents. Zebras are extraordinary healers, and Crystal Ponies are exceptional artists! Donkeys and Mules are hard workers and support our industries. And Batponies are great, noble warriors–our military needs them!”

Another round of ‘BOOOO’ and ‘That’s right!’ goes off. I push my way through the crowd, trying to get a look at the speaker.

“Gryphons, Dragons, Minotaurs, and Yaks all benefit from our hard work. It’s only logical they give back in return. These creatures have no control over nature; they’re beings of chaos! Would you let chaos triumph over Harmony?”

“NO!” A mare shouts from within the crowd. A few others echo her.

“It’s true,” the speaker says, silencing the crowd. “Inequine creatures are stealing jobs from good, honest ponies such as yourselves.”

I finally get to a point where I can see the focus of the crowd.

A group of unicorns, mostly mares, standing in a V formation look back at the crowd. The mare at the apex of the V appears to be both the main speaker, and the leader. I can’t quite make out her face under her hood, but I can see a bit of blue mane poking out. Each unicorn wears a heavy multicolored cloak–the ‘Rainbow of Harmony’.

Yep, that’s Equestria First alright.

My stomach turns over on itself and I push my way back out of the crowd.

This is not the ending to the night I was looking for.

Author's Note

Don’t worry, I’m not pushing any politics here. These weirdos are just here for the plot