Author's Note
Edited 9/2/2017
01: Pancakes & Projects
"Breakfast is a meal best served among friends."
You Know that's a Children's Book, Right?
7 a.m. — Wake up
The alarm pillow Inkspill enchanted for me works like a charm. Goodbye, alarm clock—no more rude awakenings from you! I drop the now-useless hunk of plastic in the trash and make a mental note to inform Inky of her success later.
Hm, room's still messy. Gotta clean it later. Eventually.
I brush my mane and tail quickly and put my mane up in a ponytail. I'm not late--Inky's enchantment made sure of that—just nervous. Today is pitch day, the day we in the Harmony Division get to propose our ideas for our end-of-year projects.
7:15 a.m. — Eat breakfast
I rush out of my room and into the kitchen. Florence is already well into whipping up some pancakes.
"Can I help with anything?" I ask, eyeing the pancake batter he was stirring in a huge bowl. He always refused to use the electric mixer, even though he had to make enough batter for six ponies. He swore it tasted better hoof-stirred.
"Juniper, last time you helped cook, the Princess had to exorcise the kitchen," Florence says. He looks at me with disgust, though I think I see a twinge of amusement tugging at the corners of his frown. "So, no. Go sit at the table."
I laugh and comply with his order.
"Ooh, are those pancakes I smell?" a cheery voice says from behind me.
"I don't see how, as it's just the batter. But yes," says Florence. I can hear his eyes roll.
"Good morning, Moonbeam!" I exclaim, smiling.
"Morning, June. Ready to pitch your project?" She pulls the orange juice out of the fridge and brings it over to the table, levitating a couple glasses behind her.
"As ready as I can be. Can't be worse than last year.” My laughter comes out at a higher pitch than intended.
"Ah, I remember. Poison joke oil," Florence mutters from the stove.
"Hey it wasn't the pitch that went bad," Moonbeam says reassuringly. "You just—"
"Mixed up my essential oils with the poison joke extract and infected everyone on the entire floor via my diffuser? ...Yeah." I shudder at the memory. "I will never leave bottles unlabeled ever again."
"That's what I'm always saying. An unmarked bottle is a disaster waiting to happen," Florence lectures. He pours batter onto the hot pan and it crackles softly.
"Anyway." Moonbeam rolls her eyes. "You still haven't told me what your pitch is!"
"Well, it's kind of silly," I say. My ear twitches. "And a lot more research based than last year."
"Safer for us all," Florence says with a knowing look.
"So, what is it?" Moonbeam asks.
"Are those pancakes I smell?"
Moonbeam and I turn to see Whirlwind walk in, wide-eyed and hungry.
"Now that they're actually on the pan, yes," Florence answers.
"Okay, so I was waiting outside so I didn't have to help, are you happy?" Moonbeam slouches in her seat in an exaggerated manner.
"No. I'm actually quite hurt." He sniffs.
"Florence Flask, you showing some actual equine emotion?" Whirlwind gasps. Her face breaks into a teasing smile.
"I, Florence Flask, am making pancakes without the help of my 'friends'," he says, staring directly at Moonbeam. I hold back a giggle.
"Pancakes!"
"And good morning to you too, Frosty," Florence says with a sigh. "Is that all you ponies care about?"
"Come sit with us! Juniper is about to tell us what her pitch is about!" Moonbeam calls out to Whirlwind and Frosty.
Dang it, I thought I got out of that.
"Not another poison joke carpet bomb, I hope," Whirlwind says.
"Oh, leave the poor filly alone," Frosty says. "Anyone could have made that mistake."
"You know what they say." Whirlwind takes a seat next to Moonbeam. "Unmarked bottles."
"Thank you!" Florence's sudden moment of gratification causes him to drop the spatula and, consequently, a half-cooked pancake. He stares at it in silence for a few moments, and I swear he looks like he might cry. If Florence can cry, that is. He picks up the spatula just as someone else walks in.
"Hey are those—"
Florence wheels around to face the offender in one swift, fluid motion.
"I swear to the stars if you finish that sentence I will use this spatula to disembowel you," he deadpans.
"Oh." Inkspill blinks. "Um, sorry?"
"He's just cranky because his pancake belongs to the floor now," Moonbeam says with a smirk.
Florence just rolls his eyes and returns to tending to the stove.
"O-kay then. Anyway, Juniper! How did 'Gentle Awaken' work?"
"Perfectly! The alarm pillow woke me up exactly on time, and I feel refreshed and in a great mood! Though that last part might also have something to do with Florence's cooking," I say, laughing a little at the last part. "How long should it last again?"
"It should last about six months, but the enchantment is still in beta, so you’ll have to let me know," Inky says. "I'm really glad it worked, though! This puts me ten steps ahead of schedule. Thank you so much for helping me!" She takes a seat next to me and pours herself a glass of orange juice.
"Is 'Gentle Awaken' a part of your pitch today?" Frosty asks.
"Oh, no. That's just a personal project I've been working on," Inkspill replied. "The project I'm pitching today is about enchantment locks and specifications. Not too exciting, but if Princess Twilight approves it I could figure out a few interesting things. Didn't I tell you something about it, Whirlwind?"
"Yeah, like noseprint recognition for enchantments, right?"
"Something like that. Basically, I am studying a sort of 'add-on' enchantment that makes base enchantments accessible only to certain ponies. For example." Inkspill clears her throat. "For Juniper's 'alarm pillow', I could specify that the enchantment only activates for her."
"So it'd just be a normal pillow for anyone else?" I ask.
"Exactly. I know some enchantments can already be written for a specific pony, but there isn't something you can just layer onto an existing enchantment like this yet. I can add multiple ponies to the activation list, or detract them whenever I need to. There's some more complicated stuff in my proposal, but that's the gist of it," Inkspill says.
"I'm sure the Princess will go for it," Whirlwind says.
"I mean, I didn't understand a lot of that geek stuff, but Princess Twilight's all about that. You'll do fine," Moonbeam agrees, nodding.
"I thought I was speaking in laymare's terms," Inkspill says.
"See! There it is again, more geek stuff," Moonbeam says, waving off Inkspill's words with her hoof.
"I—"
"Pancakes are done," Florence announces loudly. He sets the rather large platter of fluffy pancakes on the table and takes the seat between Inkspill and Frosty.
Everypony immediately sets into the stack of golden-brown goods, and soon enough every plate is heaped with buttery goodness. Nothing's quite as good as pancakes drowned in butter, powdered sugar, and syrup.
After a while, Moonbeam turns to me with a sinister look in her eye.
"Juniper Cure~" she says in a sing-song voice. "Why are you avoiding telling us about your project?"
"I'm not." My voice wavers.
"What is your proposal on, Juniper?" Inkspill asks.
"Yeah, what is it?" Frosty asks.
I turn to Florence, a pleading look in my eyes.
"Don't look at me, I'm curious too," he says.
"Why do you guys care so much? It's not even cool," I protest, heat rising from my coat.
"It's because you won't tell us!" Moonbeam says. "Come on, what is it?"
"We won't laugh," Whirlwind says.
"It can't be worse than last year." I'm pretty sure Frosty meant that to be comforting.
"Okay, okay. I'll tell you." I sigh. I can feel my heart beating out of my chest.
"So, there are six branches of magic, right? Elemental, Mental, Arcane, Talisman, Harmony," I begin. I pause a moment. "And Chaos."
"I want to study Chaos Theory. It's established as the official sixth branch, but there's no depth to it. Right now, I can't go to school and take a class in Chaos Magic. There isn't a Chaos Mage, a chaos spellbook, nothing. Most schools skip over it, but it exists. I want to know more about chaos magic, and see if it can turn into an actual field of study." I realize I've been looking at my half-finished pancake this whole time. I brace for my friends' reactions.
"That's... actually really interesting," Florence says.
"And dangerous," Inkspill adds. "Juniper, I admire your ambition but are you sure this is what you want to pitch to the Princess?"
"And why can't she pitch that? I didn't even know there was a sixth branch of magic. I'd say that's a great topic for an end-of-year project." Whirlwind says.
"Chaos magic by name is unpredictable and unstructured. There's a reason it hasn't been studied," Inkspill says.
"Don't rain on her parade, Ink. It's probably this dang society's obsession with order that's kept ponies from studying Chaos Theory," Moonbeam says.
"I'm not trying to rain on her parade..."
"So you're asking Princess Twilight permission to research the Chaos Branch?" Florence asks, directing everyone's attention back to me.
"Well, kind of. I'm also asking for," I gulp, "a stipend and a travel pass."
"Okay, stipend's not unusual, but a travel pass?" Moonbeam says.
"You're leaving us?" Frosty asks, a stricken, pained look on her face.
"Just for a few months! And only if the Princess approves," I say. "I need it to visit places like the Canterlot Archives and primary resources."
"Like?" Whirlwind asks.
"...Princess Celestia?" I offer meekly.
"Juniper Cure, as ambitious as always," Florence says, the ghost of a smile on his face. "I'm sure Princess Twilight will allow it."
"She's the Fourth Flare, the Princess would never allow it." Inkspill huffs mildly. She takes a sip from her glass. Her gaze softens as she turns back to me. "We can't leave Harmonia for that long until graduation, June. You know that."
"Yeah, yeah, Harmony Division this, friendship that." Moonbeam rolls her eyes. "It's not like she'd be leaving permanently."
"Still, that sounds like a really broad subject. I don't think the traveling part would stop approval—I think it's lacking specifics," Frosty says.
"Well, there is... one more thing," I say. I swear my blue coat has turned purple by now out of shame.
"What's that?" Whirlwind asks.
"The only book I've ever found on Chaos Theory is Beware the Chaos Beast," I say warily.
"You can't be serious." Inkspill looks at me, wide-eyed.
"What? What is it?" Moonbeam asks, looking back and forth between me and Inkspill.
"You want to study him?" Florence looks equally surprised.
"That would be specific enough," Frosty conceded.
"Stop playing the pronoun game! What's everyone talking about?" Moonbeam shouts.
"Juniper, what are you really pitching?" Whirlwind asks, eyebrows arched.
I sigh.
"I want to know if Discord exists. And I want to find him."
"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 
