They're Made Out of Marshmallow
The crystal pony walked purposefully towards the eatery in Canterlot. He stood for a moment, his green, crystalline body reflecting the lights coming out of the building. Orange eyes scanned the building, and he must have seen what he wanted, for he started to walk again.
Opening the front door, the stallion walked inside and took in the ponies within. Ignoring all but one, he advanced on a table and sat opposite another stallion.
The second stallion—who had been awaiting his companion—made not a single new expression. The facets of his crystalline body were pink, and he had a bright red cloak spread over his back.
A waitress, deep in the middle of her shift, advanced on the two, and levitated a pair of coffee cups to their table. She weathered the stares the red-cloaked stallion gave her, ignoring how creepy he seemed to be. For her, this was just another night.
The pair of crystal ponies waited for the waitress to leave them be, each stealing not-covert looks at the ponies around them.
"They're made out of marshmallow." The newcomer's eyes tilted to the side, and he couldn't help but make the slightest hint of a sneer at the retreating waitress.
The red-cloaked stallion stole another look, almost a double-take, at the waitress. "Marshmallow?"
"Marshmallow. They're made out of marshmallow."
"Marshmallow?"
"There's no doubt about it. We picked up several from different parts of Equestria, took them back to the Empire, and crystallized them, all the way through. They're completely marshmallow."
While Red-cloak watched the waitress flirting with a pony at another table, the newcomer wore the most serious of looks, and spoke as if he were dispassionately disgusted.
Pulling his attention back to the conversation, Red-cloak finally made eye-contact with the newcomer."That's impossible. What about the light? The light they send to the sky?"
"They use the light to spread friendship, but the light doesn't come from them. The light comes from horns."
"So who made the horns? That's who we want to be friends with."
Red-cloak couldn't stop looking around, as if the entire room was alien to him. His expression held not a hint of fear, however, only indifference.
"They made the horns. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Marshmallow made the horns."
"That's ridiculous. How can marshmallow make a horn? You're asking me to believe they are friendly?"
"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. These ponies are the only friendly race in Equestria and they're made of marshmallow."
All around the crystal ponies, the regular denizens of the eatery did their usual thing—it was a usual night, after all. The waitress flirted with the cook, a pony at another table played with some cards, and it was all completely normal—for ponies.
"Maybe they're like the changelings. You know, a chitin-based intelligence that goes through a marshmallow stage." Red-cloak pulled his attention back to the newcomer, his expression turning contemplative.
"Nope. They're born marshmallow and they die marshmallow. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn't take long. Do you have any idea what's the lifespan of marshmallow?"
"Spare me. Okay, maybe they're only part marshmallow. You know, like the dragons. A marshmallow head with hard scales and fire inside."
Newcomer's superior expression didn't change as he watched Red-cloak gazing around, like a foal facing their first maths problem.
"Nope. We thought of that, since they do have marshmallow heads, like the dragons. But I told you, we crystallized them. They're marshmallow all the way through."
While the newcomer spoke, Red-cloak looked around, contemplative, and observed the card-playing pony repeatedly fail at stacking cards.
"No insides?"
"Oh, there's insides all right. It's just that the insides are made out of marshmallow. That's what I've been trying to tell you."
Red-cloak's features turned even more contemplative.
"So... what does the friendshipping?"
The repeated questioning would be enough to make even the most stoic of pony scream, but the newcomer held an even tone. A sudden thump at their window revealed a pegasus who was apparently terrible at landing—not an uncommon thing. Both crystal ponies ignored the thump.
"You're not understanding, are you? You're refusing to deal with what I'm telling you. The insides do the friendshipping. The marshmallow."
"Friendly marshmallow? You're asking me to believe in friendly marshmallow."
"Yes, friendly marshmallow! Friendshipping marshmallow. Happy marshmallow. Sleeping marshmallow. The marshmallow is the whole deal! Are you beginning to get the picture or do I have to start all over?" Though his tone was even, there was the slightest hint of irritation in the newcomer's tone.
Red-cloak's attention was stolen from observing random ponies again, although his face showed no shock, and he returned his even gaze to the newcomer. "By the crystals. You're serious then. They're made out of marshmallow."
"Thank you. Finally. Yes. They are indeed made out of marshmallow. And they've been trying to get us to come back for almost a thousand of their years."
"So... what does this marshmallow have in mind?"
"First it wants to be friends with us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the world, contact other creatures, swap friendship and hugs. The usual." Newcomer flicked his gaze from side to side as he spoke, showing the depth of his disdain for the subject.
"We're supposed to be friends with marshmallow?"
"That's the idea. That's the emotion they are sending out with light. 'Hello. Anypony out there? Anypony home?' That sort of thing."
Red-cloak, seeing his companion so agitated, shifted the topic to a new one. "They actually do talk, then. They use words, friendship, chit-chat?"
"Oh, yes. Except they do it with marshmallow." The shift in topic soothed the newcomer.
"I thought you just told me they used light?"
"They do, but what do you think is in the light? Marshmallow faces. You know how when you pinch and wobble marshmallow, it makes motion? They friendship by wobbling their marshmallow at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their marshmallow." Disgust was back, and the newcomer glanced to a talking pony, gave the slightest shudder, then looked back to his companion.
"By the crystals. Singing marshmallow. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?"
"Officially or unofficially?"
"Both."
"Officially, we are required to be friendly, welcome and communicate all friendly races or hives in this section of Equus, without prejudice, fear, or favor." Newcomer narrowed his eyes a fraction. "Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and fade away for another thousand years."
"I was hoping you would say that."
Newcomer gave a slight nod. "It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make friends with marshmallow?"
"I agree one hundred percent. What's there to say? 'Hello, marshmallow. How's it going?' But will this work? How many nations are we dealing with here?" Red-cloak's mouth might not have twitched into a smile, but his expression did change to the slightest hint of relief.
"Just one. They can travel to other places on marshmallow wings, but they don't stay at them. And being marshmallow, they can only teleport briefly. Which limits them to a short distance and makes the possibility of them actually finding us pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact."
"So we just pretend there's nopony home in Equestria?"
Newcomer tilted his head very slightly. "That's it."
"Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to friendship marshmallow? And the ones who have been in the Empire, the ones you crystalized? You're sure they won't remember?"
"They'll be considered unfriendly if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out the marshmallow so that we're just a dream to them."
Newcomer's expression was all the way back to neutral now, and he was clearly glad to have gotten past the hardest part of his report.
"A dream to marshmallow. How strangely appropriate, that we should be marshmallow's dream."
"And we marked the entire continent unoccupied." Newcomer looked only at Red-cloak, already completely ignoring the ponies present.
Red-cloak, like the newcomer, considered the ponies dealt with, and payed close attention only to his companion. "Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anypony interesting on that side of Equus?"
"Yes, a rather shy but sweet pack of wood-beings in a class nine forest zone. Was in contact two centuries ago, wants to be friendly again." Leaving talk of marshmallow behind, the newcomer almost smiled. Almost.
"They always come around."
"Who will be left to watch? They must be, officially and unofficially, briefed."
"Sombra."
In agreement, Red-cloak and the newcomer stood, turned, and walked from the eatery. Standing outside—side by side—they looked to the north.
And vanished.
Author's Note
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