A Demon's Loss Is a Mortal's Gain

Chapters

Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter One

Chapter Two

Something shifted—among a stygian sky, an essence writhed within a void.

His back shadowed the stars and his paws held dusty nebulas within them. Chunks of debris from asteroids swirled around his claws. Lone planets were chipped and baren, flaking off into a current that wrapped around the entity.

As still as a corpse, the creature hovered within the nothingness.

There was no noise other than the crackling planets caving within themselves.

Suddenly, there was a twitch. An eyelid opened, the iris behind it lolling before focusing. His eye was a veil of gold. The galaxy concealing him happened to be stark and cold when it came to color, making his eyes an anomaly.

“…I hear it,” the entity whispered. His voice had resonated with a baritone so low it caused the cosmos to sway. “You call to me. Yet, I do not know why.”

The stars behind him were nearly lackluster, but they caught his eye. He inhaled, and the sharpness of it caused the sun to flare. He coaxed a trail to his muzzle before ushering it toward his nostrils.

He breathed in the sun's flame, yet, he didn't burn. The cracks within his face buzzed with a brilliant golden light when touched by the fiery vapor. The cracks acted as veins carrying the star's essence throughout his body before leaving it to become a shell of what it once was.

The graveyard of planets appeared to grieve once the gloominess settled. The last of the stars had been consumed, leaving nothing but dust and darkness to remain.

His mane looked as if it were pushed and pulled by an invisible ocean current. It curled and swayed aimlessly while he spared a claw to rest on his temple.

“You call. Why?” He repeated, asking no one in his solitude.

There was a pulse. Something crawled from the darkness to coat the creature in a warm medallion hue. His eyes narrowed then widened, before thinning into the tips of pens. The light danced and convulsed as it were a ribbon caught in a storm's brood. It carried a message, one only decipherable to the beast it caught in its snare. He appeared to understand, pushing himself out of the fetal position he had resided in.

He hummed, coming to a conclusion that appeared to enlighten him.

"And so, the hunt continues," the being announced. His brows were knitted and his mouth in a curl that showed a twinge of scorn. "You are alive. The scent of your power lingers even here."

A meaty tail unfurled itself from his chest and stomach. Its features matched the naked divinity that made up his eyes. The tip wielded a barb that mimicked a thorn dipped in a rustic gold. His wings were scaled, leathery, with torn holes within them. They outstretched for a mere moment and overshadowed the sullen comets left to wander the galaxy.

“…I have been summoned to finish what I did not,” he said, now hovering upright. “Mother Earth is not as forgiving as I am, but I will do as she asks. How you survived our last meeting is a mystery.”

His wings flittered, pushing him toward the open vastness that was the universe. His claws rested on a meteor. He accidentally pushed it out of alignment from the asteroid belt it called home.

“It saddens me, but if we are to survive…you must perish.” He levitated throughout the rocky environment, effortlessly passing it by until he met the other side. “It could have been centuries since we last met. I hope you have picked a God to pray to. You are stubborn about such things. Only then can you hope to exceed a Titan."

He then departed and welcomed the void. He left the dying galaxy he had consumed to lay as waste behind him.

A muffled protest was muttered. The groan could be tracked to a ball of pink buried under the bed covers. Her slumber had gone unsuccessful. That was to be expected when her night had been held hostage by a malign entity. The number of bits she would pay to wave her responsibilities today could be stacked to the ceiling. Of course, that wasn’t how life worked anymore. She couldn’t tug on Mama Pie’s ear and negotiate for a little more sleep since that faded when she moved from her rock farm.

Sometimes she missed being a filly.

The sun’s rays brushed her eyelids. They beckoned for her awakening as Celestia commanded them to do. She groaned again, pulling the covers over her ears while her mane stuck out like bristled animal quills.

The room was still. The only noise happened to be distinct weedwhackers that caused bugs to flee and tap on her closed window. Something felt odd, however. Normally she woke up with a piping cup of sarcasm in the morning, but the room was tranquil. This silence was an oddity and one that had a suspicious linger to it.

Pinkie peeked from under her covers. She was met with a pleasant sight in the mirror. It only parroted the bags under her eyes and nothing more.

“…Weird,” Pinkie rasped, still getting used to the morning itself. “Pinkamena?”

“Oh, good morning! I would offer you some coffee, but alas, I am without creamer. I know you dislike bitterness…especially when it comes to my attitude, yes?"

She pulled the covers from her head and peered up to nearly brush muzzles with The Mare in the Mirror, herself. Pinkamena grinned, her sunny demeanor questionable, while she fluttered a hoof in a wave.

Pinkie’s eyes bugged. The mare was draped over her stomach, forelimbs inches from her neck, and eyes leveled. She felt no weight, but yet, she was so close she could see every shade of red within her eyes.

Pinkie Pie’s mouth bobbed in a sequence of confused spasms.

She could have sworn Pinkamena’s breath had heat to it. The whites of her eyes even had an imposter of Pinkie reflecting within them. Pinkamena placed her chin in an open hoof, her cheek squishing within it, with her lips painted in a crude smirk.

“Staring is quite rude,” she teased, her smile swelling in mockery. “You look positively ecstatic about my promotion to probation. Good thing too, now I get the privilege of walking beside you with or without your consent for as long as you live! Isn’t that exciting?”

“Gah—” Pinkie stuttered, voice brittle with surprise. Although her face was blanched, Pinkamena appeared oblivious to the elephant in the room. “But the mirror—I, no, there's no way! This…this is cat-lady level crazy. You're not supposed to be out here. What are you doing? What are you up to?!"

Pinkamena’s muzzle scrunched, “excuse me? I was just here minding your business, and you automatically throw up walls? Build bridges, not walls, girlie. Besides, I ain’t doing nothin’ wrong, am I Sherriff Pinkie?”

The mare no longer in the mirror pawed at Pinkie’s nose with a wink.

Her stare enthralled Pinkie. She couldn't help it. She was awestricken by this phenomenon. The more she tried to make sense of it, the more her eyes matched the appearance of dinner plates. This was equal in both strange, frightening, and somewhat fascinating. This had never happened before.

“You…you found a way out of the mirror, h-how? You’re supposed to be over there giving me your patented stink eye, not here. This is monkey business…crazy…this is crazy! I…you…go back…go back!”

Pinkamena inhaled through her nose without breaking eye contact, “awe, Pinkie it only takes about one brain cell to see what's going on. Come on, don't short yourself. You asked me to be a little nicer last night, remember?"

She didn’t know why it felt like she was pinned under the mare’s body, but her stare kept her rooted. She had a tenacious grip on the bedsheets with a false hope it would deflect any voodoo weirdness Pinkamena might have had.

If it weren't for the headboard, she would have backed up out of bed. There was no longer a slick piece of glass between them. The only blockade she had were the covers she was using as a make-do shield.

“…Hallucinations can’t do this—”

Pinkamena put up an intervening hoof. “—in fact, they can, actually. You see, they're quite weird. Sometimes they appear as behemoths that pop out of the ground or sometimes they appear as strikingly alluring mares, exhibit A."

She gestured to herself. Pinkie’s eyes deadpanned.

The hallucination appeared agitated. "Okay, you tell me what you'd rather wake up to. You have the choice between a drooling serpent or a charming mare. At least I make an attempt to be funny. The other one you dreamed up has a massive aggression problem. Don't blame me for the hallucinations you create. You could dare to have a little more creativity."

Pinkie took two hooves and rubbed them along her face. This was a nightmare, so much for hoping the next morning wouldn’t be eventful.

“…This shouldn’t be happening.”

Pinkamena mouthed her words in ridicule before responding, "yeah okay. Obviously, I’m the more shocking thing this past week. Let’s just focus on Pinkamena because she’s just so problematic. Oh, there was a wyrm? Let’s just forget about that and gossip about what my pal Mena did this morning.”

She appeared disappointed when she didn’t get the reaction she wanted out of Pinkie. The Element of Laughter remained reserved.

Pinkamena put down her hoof and gave a pout, “seriously? Me out of the mirror is that shocking to you? You really need to get out and smell the roses if this is the craziest thing that’s ever happened, jee-whizz.”

Pinkie outstretched a hoof out of impulse. No breath was felt even an inch from Pinkamena’s nose. The mare steadily pulled back as if her hoof had a sting to it. She didn’t appear too keen on the idea of being touched even though Pinkie Pie knew she was nothing but still air.

“…Woah, hold on there. Personal space, bud. No, I don’t like that, stop—” Pinkamena protested, leaning away to where there were crimps in her neck. “No means no, I am saying the word no…respond accordingly.”

“Just let me pet you! Just—hold on, stop leaning back. It will only take a second!” Pinkie argued, nearly crawling out of her bedsheets to catch the mare inching off the mattress. “You’re going to fall off if you go any further back, Pinkameanie!”

“I don’t want to be touched. I have rights! I do not consent, I do not—urmph, you did it anyway. I have been violated.”

Pinkie’s hoof rested along Pinkamena’s muzzle, yet, there was nothing to be felt. The spot where they met was distorted like a low-resolution TV. The mare’s left eye was closed in a flinch, nose grooved with distaste, while her stare contained enough venom to telepathically poison her. Pinkamena was not happy.

“…You’re made of air,” Pinkie said, a gloomy sigh invading her tone.

In her gut, she knew that Pinkamena was something only she could see, but the vision appeared too convincing. Pinkie remained quiet while lingering on her empty hoof. Her cheeks sagged while she returned her hoof beside her and displayed a bit of despondency.

Was it wrong that she had a little hope in the back of her mind that perhaps Pinkamena wasn't what she thought she was? Obviously, Pinkie was only wasting time with this nonsense. She had to wring her brain of it. Other things remained a priority today and The Mare in the Mirror was not one of them.

Her companion suddenly collapsed into pixels before materializing at Pinkie's bedside. Pinkamena leaned an elbow on the satin comforter while settling on her haunches with an expression of boredom.

“So, are you here to help? Or, are you just here to storm on my Gala?” Pinkie questioned, while the mare’s eyes became half-lidded in restored amusement.

“No, I’m not here to storm on your parade. I’m made of air. What am I going to do? Huff, puff, and blow the Gala to splinters? I’m afraid my subscription only includes badgering you about your choices in life. I could upgrade your package to premium tier, where I could give you advice on how not to screw up Equestria’s economy like you’ve been doing.”

Pinkie’s face became stiff with a raw distaste for Pinkamena's humor. She slowly pawed a pillow out from under her mid-back before pressing her muzzle into the heart of it. The Element of Laughter threw herself back, nearly skimming the headboard, and groaned with enough force to draw attention.

Recognizable raps on the door surfaced, “Ms. Pie? Is there trouble?”

The pillow slid from her face with her hooves still lingering on the edges. Her room's walls must have been paper-thin, considering the guards could hear the drop of a hat.

“Just fine,” she responded cheerily, with noticeable weight in her voice. “A little low in the caffeine tank, but who isn’t this early? It takes major coffee power to fuel this vessel of mobile joy.”

Although her voice attempted camouflage, she’d have to perk up or it would be anything but hidden. She had veiled her trouble with the Gala for so long it was taking a noticeable toll on her.

"Listen, I tried to offer coffee," Pinkamena admitted, shooing Pinkie’s glare away with a swaying hoof. “Did you know caffeine can become addicting? I’d hate to have to organize an intervention. You’re already on thin ice as it comes, considering how much work you’ve piled on your friend’s shoulders.”

Pinkie’s head whipped toward her, “I’m trying my best!”

She threw her weight onto the side of the bed and untangled herself from the covers. She brushed past Pinkamena with a flounce.

Pinkie Pie gave Pinkamena a side-eye to counter her smugness, but it didn’t budge her arrogance. Her follower reeled back with a ridged brow before haughtily calling her out.

“Ooo-hoo-hoo, what attitude,” the Mare in the Mirror taunted, shadowing Pinkie’s stride toward the vanity. “I know you’re trying your best, but trying is different than succeeding. Maybe you aren’t cut out for these kinds of things.”

Pinkie wrinkled her nose at the mare's words. It wasn't any less annoying than a mosquito buzzing around her ear.

She grabbed a hairbrush resting on the counter before observing her movements within the mirror. "I still have to try. No matter how many times I get pushed down, I pop back up like a spring, don't I? I can't give up. Twilight is counting on me. It takes a certain, je ne sais quoi, to run a country as Rarity had said…I may not have it yet, but I will if I keep trying.”

She ran the bristles through her mane, causing her curls to bounce against her neck. Pinkie continued to flatten the frazzled hairs still captive by static until her mane looked a little less ratty.

“It might be helpful if you knew what Rarity meant. It isn’t very good advice, believe it or not.”

The brush clattered on the wooden countertop with Pinkie’s hoof nearly boring it into the varnished surface.

“Why do you have to be such a major stinker? Like rotting-egg and splotched banana peel stinky? Would it kill ya to have an attitude of roses and teddy bears once in a while? You have a very non-huggable aura about you, even I would think twice of doing so, and that’s saying something.”

Pinkamena’s hoof slowly pressed itself against her chest, "I'm going to be real honest…that cut a little. You see that little red spot, its blood—I’m bleeding.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, “mmmm, five stars for the performance, but you’re not that dramatic.”

Pinkie flashed a smile in her direction, but it was deflected by the illusion’s narrowed glower.

She truly did hurt the feelings of her pessimistic follower. Pinkamena’s shoulders were pinched, eyes evasive, and her head thrown in a direction to where their gazes wouldn’t meet.

Pinkie sighed, “did I actually hurt your feelings?”

There was no reply.

"…I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," Pinkie admitted, veering around to address Pinkamena, who had her forelimbs crossed. Her shoulder rolled, but it didn’t appear she was listening. “Can we have a truce for the time being, please?”

“…Chea juch htuh uj iw ih zonowihj quo,” Pinkamena grumbled, flickering her eyes to rest on Pinkie’s face before retreating to the closed window.

“Didn’t quite catch that.”

“Forget it, I believe you’ve spent enough time squandering in your chambers. We have work to do, don’t we?”

She nodded in response. Pinkie’s encounter with her unchained reflection had somewhat aged her energy to where she already felt worn out. Perhaps she needed to visit an old friend to rejuvenate herself. Fluttershy was the only pony she had entrusted with her problems other than her sisters. There was an itch she needed to scratch when it came to venting about what happened this morning.

Pinkie needed to talk about this to somepony. It was bizarre!

Her lips parted to say something to Pinkamena, but she decided against it. Anything she said would be used and held against her. It was what the mare always aimed for to claim a checkmate. It was best to never seek the last word. Pinkamena was trained to counter it.

She felt a little remorseful when leaving Pinkamena disgruntled, but her other feelings ruled against it. Normally she’d never leave an argument where the other felt upset, but The Mare in the Mirror was a different story.

She weaved around the bedpost before approaching the door. There were no steps heard, but Pinkamena had followed without so much as a visible breath. The mare would be tailing her very closely with or without her agreement.

Pinkie hesitantly pushed open the door, passing through it, and waiting with bated breath to see what The Mare in the Mirror would do.

“…Ponk,” Pinkamena muttered under her breath, sulking after her.

There it was—the famous last word she always had to have. It took a heck of a lot of willpower not to respond to the nickname she had been given. Pinkie had heard it before since it was generally used as an insult. Of course, she didn't know what it meant, but it wasn't hard to understand that it was far from endearment.

She failed to be placating, “…Pinkameanie.”

Thankfully, her shadow hadn’t seen her fall into the blatant trap she laid out for her. Sure, maybe being amicable would have been plausible, but that wasn’t the relationship they had ever shared. Grousing at each other was about the only language Pinkamena ever understood.

“So where to? Are we apologizing to Applejack? That should probably be number one on the checklist. If looks could kill, you'd be the first to go."

Pinkie was wary of her new attitude. Her illusion had suddenly traded her cold approach for a warmer one. However, something about it caused a smidge of suspicion. She had never bounced back so quickly from a spat.

“…You’re suddenly in a good mood,” Pinkie tested, eyebrow perked.

"Feels good to stretch my legs," she responded breezily. "If you had been tied up your whole life, wouldn't you be jumping for joy at the chance to walk?"

Pinkie visibly flinched. Her pace was jovial, springy, proving without a doubt that it was quite a candid response. She felt a little kicked when seeing how relieved she was to be out of those chains. Even though Pinkamena was a figment of her own imagination, she had always been quite the character. Maybe not buoyant, but definitely full of life. Something felt wrong about it all. No pony deserved to be chained their whole life even if they weren’t real. Why did she feel so guilty over it all? It wasn’t like she purposefully meant for her to be bound.

Pinkamena spotted her lingering gaze.

She stopped, eyebrow cropped. “…what?”

“….Nothing,” Pinkie lied, nodding down the hallway. “I’m going to find Flutters.”

“Do I have a say in the matter?” She asked, not receiving a reply.

The hallway was freshly polished, the floor nearly illuminating the walls with a shine. There was a smell of flowers in the air mixed with a bit of citrus. Bushels of flowers created a colorful overhang by being stuffed in-between columns. Petals fluttered downward, gently caressing Pinkie’s nose while she passed under them. Pinkamena appeared agitated. She swatted at the petals as if she detested them.

“It’s allergy season! All this is going to do is make the Gala a fiasco. Pollen attracts pests, and pests carry diseases, and diseases worsen asthma! Stupid, uhmph—nature…and its stupid flowers!”

She rubbed at her nose as if the decorations were already making her uneasy. Pinkie threw a look over her shoulder and gave her reply.

"It's traditional to have the most beautiful and bestest flowers for the Gala. If allergies are a problem now or in the future, I'm sure Twi will fix it."

“I have allergies!” Pinkamena whined, her lip sagging.

“You’re made of air,” Pinkie argued, ducking under a banner with still dripping paint slathered on the surface.

“Yeah, air swarming with pollen!”

She dismissed Pinkamena’s querulous demands, mentally plugging her ears to the grumbling complaints behind her.

“No one cares about how I feel!”

Pinkie hunched forward in annoyance, eyes narrowed, while counting the steps until they hit the courtyard. Hopefully, Fluttershy had a remedy to cure the physical headache following her around.

Two double doors were propped open which invited fresh air into the castle. The breeze carried with it a brisk aftertaste of pollinated scents. Only the flowers were to blame for the aroma that wafted around them. Perhaps Pinkamena was right in the sense that it could be awfully overwhelming to creatures with sensitive noses.

Pinkie stepped out into the veil of sunshine. Although the fall had a healthy balance of warmth and cool, it still had the foreshadowing chill of oncoming winter.

“Brrrr,” Pinkie vocalized, wiggling her shoulders in discomfort.

“…Stupid fall,” Pinkamena complained, tightly hugging the wall as if cursing the moment she’d have to cross the double-door threshold. "Stupid fall and its bipolar swings between hot and cold. Why can't Equestria be tropical?"

Pinkie threw a look over her shoulder, “it’s not that chilly, Ms. Grumpy Pout. Equestria always takes a dip in temperature this time of the season. Actually, to be honest, the cold is playing pretty nice this year.”

Pinkamena’s teeth were clattering like a teacup forced to endure a train ride on unstable tracks.

“You act as if I’ve somehow experienced the cold every year,” she hummed, finally stepping down the concrete steps to rejoin Pinkie. “It’s almost like you’ve forgotten my previous state of immobility.”

She jingled her wrist in crude humor. The Element of Laughter frowned with a tad bit of sympathy only to have it ignored. Pinkamena swept past her, a smirk still lingering on her lips, while she rolled her gaze over the gardens.

“Got to give it to the landscapers,” Pinkamena complimented, gesturing toward the sculpted bushes. “It’s a breeding ground for allergies, but at least the display makes up for the suffering.”

Pinkie Pie scouted for Fluttershy. It wasn’t hard to find the pegasus when using her ears as an audible guide. She found her friend spread out in solitude by following her tuneful hums.

Her hoof gently ran through her mane, brush gliding through the velvet strands as if it were a hot knife through butter.

“...Ooo, Flutters, hey—hey, you got a minute for a chit-chat?”

The recognizable tune of her voice caused Fluttershy to tip her head up. A smile parted her lips, hoof raising in a wave, while she ushered her over.

“Of course, actually, I was meaning to talk to you earlier, but I got a little caught up in something." She admitted, revealing her frazzled wing feathers nearly twisted into knots. "The raccoons got a little nippy when I wouldn't allow them to gorge themselves with treats.”

Her laughter was feeble, but of good spirits.

Pinkie approached, "yikes…you look like you got in a food fight. Wait a minute, did ya? Did you really get into a food fight and not invite the national champion? You should have. The coons woulda never seen it coming."

“Well—” Fluttershy sat the brush on the concrete fountain ledge, “if I give them too many treats, they’ll be unhealthy. Raccoons aren't very good at regulating themselves and even less at understanding why that’s bad.”

Pinkie flopped down beside her friend before reaching over and picking an apple peel from behind Fluttershy's ear.

“Oh yeah, coons can be real mean trash pandas. They used to hang around Sugarcube Corner near the dumpster. They’d lurk around, backs all hunched like a kitty, and they’d hiss at me until I gave ‘em the bag. They’re really good at getting what they want. Well, that was until you gave them that scary stare of yours.”

Fluttershy chuckled while Pinkie continued to pick out the remains of her tussle with the raccoons. The pegasus watched her flick an orange peel toward the sidewalk where it was scooped up by a hovering finch.

“You know—you really shouldn’t call them trash pandas,” Fluttershy advised with a giggle.

Pinkie stopped, leaning over Fluttershy’s shoulder, “what else would I call them? They love trash, eat a ton like pandas, and they’re fluffy but deadly.”

“…Trash pandas,” Pinkamena muttered, hiccupping when she tried to suppress a laugh. “You didn’t have to call them out like that.”

She chortled, but only Pinkie Pie could hear the ringing laughter.

“They don’t like being called that, Pinkie,” Fluttershy warned with a growing smile. Even though she couldn’t hear Pinkamena, it appeared her laughter was contagious. She pressed a hoof to her lips to suppress a giggle, “anyway, what appears to be troubling you lately?”

Pinkie observed her follower take a seat by a bush and hug her ribcage. Pinkamena still appeared to be fighting with the season's temperature, huddling into a ball while tenderly rubbing her shoulders.

Without moving her head from Pinkamena’s direction, she replied. “Somehow, a little someone-someone decided to slip out of her mirror like an eel. I'd hate to spoil the mystery for ya, so I'll give you a hint. The first part of her name is a color I really, really, like, and the last part of her name is something we used to describe Gilda."

“…Mean?” Fluttershy questioned, watching as Pinkie vigorously shook her head in agreement.

“Correctamundo, just add an ‘A’ at the end. Now, what’s my favorite color? Come on, come on, you know this one.”

Pinkamena suddenly shot up with a hoof in their direction, “I know this one, alright—alright, it’s definitely magenta. No, wait, that’s too dark. Okay, it’s a type of very light blush bubblegum. Come on, meet me halfway here.”

Fluttershy stuck out her bottom lip before puzzling it together, "oh, you mean Pinkamena? Oh my, is that why you've been so distant and less perky than usual?”

"I'm guessing you've heard about what I've been up to lately. I really have been trying my best. I just don't feel my best, you know?"

She inched closer to her friend so that the pegasus could drape a feathered wing around her shoulders. "You know Applejack would never talk badly about you. She genuinely told us out of concern, Pinkie. I know you don't want to talk about The Mare in the Mirror yet. But maybe—”

She trailed off when noticing a look of fear skitter across her face. Pinkie's eyes swiveled elsewhere, clearly uncomfortable with the suggestion.

“—Maybe it might be time,” she finished.

“There’s something weird about her, Flutters. Remember Zecora, and remember the whole ‘Evil enchantress who does evil dances and if you look deep in her eyes—”

“—She’ll put you in trances? Yes, I remember well, you made me sing it.” Fluttershy reminded with a gentle nudge into her friend’s shoulder. “What about Zecora?”

“…Pinkamena does things differently. She always has. There's gotta be some kind of evil magic she's got. How else could she control my mind like a gloved hoof with strings and popsicle sticks? My whole life has kinda been a puppet show.”

Fluttershy hummed in thought while Pinkamena interjected, “oh please. Not the whole ‘Mena has voodoo powers’ again, I hate to break it to you, but hallucinations aren’t that overpowered.”

Pinkie continued, "this morning she was propped up on my bed like nobody's business! You shoulda seen it Flutters, it's never happened in the history of forever—dare I say, five-ever, if you want to know how sure I am.”

“I believe you,” the Element of Kindness said, resting a hoof on the mare’s shoulder. “What has she been doing lately to make you assume she has complete control over your mind?”

Pinkie took in an overly obnoxious inhale, "pretend her personality is like a needle, okay? Okay? Alright, now pretend I'm a happy little balloon, all inflated and minding my business. Now—now, here comes Pinkamena…pop! Pretend you heard the loud pop. Now listen to the whooooosh coming out of my body as my mood deflates. She squeezes the life—"

She put up a hoof before filling her lungs back up with air.

Pinkie rambled on, “—out of what makes me Pinkie Pie. I can’t be Pinkie without laughter and I don’t want to laugh when she’s around. No laughter, no balloons, and no caffeine-fueled energy equal zero Pinkie Pie. It’s basic math.”

“Hmmm,” Pinkamena contemplated. Her forehead puckered while she tapped her lips, “that’s a very poetic way of calling me a prick. I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“Well, that is what she’s created to do, remember? She's supposed to make you feel insecure. That's why it's so important for us to find a way to help you start feeling yourself again. Which actually reminds me why I was going to try and find you after I cleaned up.”

Underneath her left wing she revealed a plastic container. There were dozens of scratches and bites decorating the outside, but it seemed as if the barrier fought the aggressors off. Within the transparent tub lay something wrapped in aluminum foil, untouched.

She placed the container upon the grass before turning the opening toward Pinkie. The earth pony cocked her head at the sight of it before glancing back up to her friend, bemused.

“What kind of goodies do you have, Fluttershy?”

The pegasus flicked open the latch with a pop, “well—when I was training the raccoons for the Gala, they found it in my bag. They got really upset after telling them they were for somepony else and that they couldn't have any more treats. You probably know what happened after that.”

Pinkie grimaced when reviewing her disheveled appearance. Raccoons could be merciless at times, but if she had to place a bet on who would emerge victoriously, her bits would be in Fluttershy's favor.

“Do you remember Tree Hugger? She’s the mare that I took with me to the Gala. Discord brought The Smooze that year, you know, the giant glob of green slime we had to wash out of the walls for a week?”

“Oh, her!” Pinkie exclaimed, “Yeah, Discord was a very sour lemon that day. Tree Hugger was as calm as a cucumber and much sweeter than I expected. Funny though, since sweet and sour normally get along just fine. I guess those two will never be lemonade in each other's presence."

“Depends on the balance between the two,” Pinkamena added, draping her hoof over a forelimb and resting her head on her wrist. “Discord appears to only care for one pony. You call me sour, but at least I hate everyone equally—and I don’t favor one over the other.”

“Saucy,” Pinkie commented. The mare shrugged in response.

"Hmm?" Fluttershy asked before noticing where her eyes had landed. "You can hear her right now, can't you?"

"Mhmm, today she's a real chatty catty."

“Cathy,” the Mare in the Mirror corrected.

“Oh—right, Cathy! I meant Cathy,” Pinkie continued sheepishly, a blush filling her cheeks. "Sometimes, I get the phrases all jumbled up in this brain of mine."

“Did…did she just correct you?” the pegasus asked, brows crimping, while she began to unwrap the foil. “What has she been doing today? Where is she now?”

Pinkie nodded toward the path of grass the mare laid on, “right now she’s kind of just glaring at me—oh wait, now she rolled her eyes, okay nooooow she’s kind of annoyed.”

Pinkamena gave her a glare fit to be tied. She then lugged herself somewhere far from Pinkie Pie’s narrating.

“Everyone always asks ‘what is Pinkamena’ and ‘where is Pinkamena—” the illusion groused. “—No one asks, ‘how is Pinkamena?' Because if they did, I'd have a lot to say!”

She slumped onto her ribcage, twitching an ear, before rolling to display her back to the mares. Pinkamena normally commented with no regard as to how it would be taken by others, and usually, Pinkie wouldn't bat an eye with some things she said. Lately, her knowledge about the Mare in the Mirror started to fill some pages in with ink. Her brazen personality was a trademarked tradition of hers, but it was beginning to dull. It appeared as if she was using sarcasm to deflect, and Pinkie Pie was noticing it.

The posted note with scribbled thoughts no bigger than a grocery list about her—was now expanded to a full-fledged notebook.

Pinkie Pie was about to call out to her, but reality hooked her back into the present. Fluttershy was tugging at her shoulder, nudging unwrapped brownies toward her so that she could comb over them.

“…Here, this should help with her. I know it’s hard to concentrate when she’s whispering to you all the time.” Fluttershy passed the brownies into her hooves and Pinkie brought them to her nose for a sniff test. "They have a little…odor to them, but Tree Hugger uses natural ingredients that serve as relaxants and anxiety relievers. I tried not to reveal too much since I know you want to keep it between us, so I only asked for something to calm your nerves.”

Pinkamena’s eyes suddenly appeared from behind blades of grass. She had already rolled over to peek at them both with an animated face that was quite expressive. The dessert had completely ushered in her attention.

“I don’t like things that smell fishy. Those definitely smell fishy in a figurative and literal sense.” Pinkamena alerted, her eyes solidifying with an edge that was as stern as it was concerning. “Pinkie, don’t eat those.”

"What are they made with?" Pinkie asked, weaving through the batch with a pickiness she never realized she had. "They do smell kinda weird, everypony has their recipe, but I don't think I've smelled a smell this smellie. Usually, brownies are supposed to smell smelly in a chocolatey way."

"…That was an ear full," Fluttershy replied in amusement. "Well, Tree Hugger is quite vocal about her passion for organic ingredients. She uses secret remedies to cure lots of things, and believe me, they work wonderfully. She gave me a few bath bombs, some fragrances, and since she was here at the Gala, she was more than happy to give you a few of her personal remedies. She’s pretty hush-hush about the mixture.”

"Well, nothing can be as smelly as Zecora's potions. Phew, gotta remember to take a clothes' pin when we ask her to make a brew. Many things are smelly that taste really good, though, like…like, kimchi! The Tasty Treat here in Canterlot serves it. I tried it once and it was terrific, but stunk up the place like no tomorrow!"

“You two are too oblivious for your own good—” Pinkamena was interrupted.

“—So this will help my Mena problem go from Chatty Cathy to slightly-silent Sally, right?" Pinkie asked, taking another whiff but shivering from the odor when she did so. "Oof, it’s going to take a little while to get used to, yeesh!”

"Don't feel like you have to eat them. It's just there if you decide to try it. Tree Hugger is pretty care-free, so whatever she has must work wonders," Fluttershy said with a playful wink in her direction. She then began to gather her stuff as she continued, "I've got to get back. Break time only lasts twenty minutes for me. That's about as long as I can leave the animals alone before they get into mischief."

Pinkie gave her a loose wave, "alright, I gotcha. See you later, alligator. Hey, if you run into Tree Hugger before I do, tell her we can swap tips about baking. Preferably ones that aren't so smelly."

She nodded, “will do.”

Pinkie’s beaming gratitude had the warmth of the sun. She was highly thankful that Fluttershy went out of her way to nab something that would drown out Pinkamena's voice. Sure, The Mare in the Mirror wasn't shy when it came to butting heads, but the real problem was her urge to plant seeds of doubt. She was consistently making a note of Pinkie Pie's failures to later use them as weapons. Why she felt the need to do it was left to mystery.

She hoped not to reap what Pinkamena had sowed.

Placed on the grass were the brownies. Pinkie couldn't stop staring at them as if they were foreign. Her nose knows, and something about the smell of it left a bad taste in her mouth.

She hovered a forelimb, casting shade over the foil.

"…Uhh, I'd…erm," Pinkamena warned before she was spotted shoving a hoof into her mouth.

“These really make you uncomfortable, don't they?" Pinkie tested, teasingly moving a hoof back and forth. "They're just brownies. They won't poison me—well, I don’t think they would.”

“No, they won’t exactly poison you per se…I just—” Pinkamena ceased for a moment and took a breath, “listen, you and Fluttershy are both kind of….inexperienced with exotic behaviors. I'm not entirely sure about the written laws of Equestria… but…um, well sometimes—”

Her mouth remained open, but words failed to come out. Pinkie narrowed her eyes, it didn't appear that Pinkamena was disingenuous, but she was definitely beating around the bush about something.

“—Sometimes…ponies do things that aren’t exactly accepted worldwide. Not to say it's wrong, but these behaviors can be debatable within political grounds. Anyway, sometimes ponies like Tree Hugger have…eccentric methods to take it easy. You see, Fluttershy has a bit of a habit when it comes to making friends with hobbies that are considered an abnormality."

"You don't like any of my friends. I can totally see through what you're trying to do here. You know these brownies will keep me from losing my marbles!"

Pinkamena snorted, "no, that's not at all what I'm trying to say."

“It totally is!”

“…No.”

"Yes, indeedy times infinity. You can't argue past infinity."

“Believe me when I say your problems won’t be cured by those brownies. I'm not saying this because I dislike Fluttershy. I'm telling you this because she's a bit clueless about these things, as are you." Pinkamena gestured toward the foil Pinkie had clutched to her chest like a pearl necklace. “Those little treats you’re holding with the strength of a vice are suspicious. Fluttershy's friend Mary Jane who made those for you, clearly has no idea how innocent you are.”

Pinkie’s glare tightened, “her name is Tree Hugger. You need to keep your mean nicknames to yourself.”

“Oh, Pinkie, if only you understood that I wasn’t the mare who gave her that nickname.”

She broke into a guffaw that almost caused her to choke. Now, Pinkie Pie was the Element of Laughter and she was fairly educated with jokes—but this one flew right over her head with a whistle. Ah yes, Pinkamena, the guileful master when it came to pushing her buttons. Truly an ace in the hole.

“Why do you feel the need to do that?” She asked, with more of a snarling rebuke than out of curiosity. “You could try, you know. Even just a little.”

She smirked, “do what? Have a jest? Listen, your humor may be customary among ponies. I personally find it relatively boring and dry. It's just my taste as you have yours. Relax, enjoy the circus. We're all clowns here. Your makeup is just a little different than mine."

The only clownery Pinkie noticed was Pinkamena’s.

She exhaled with a bit of force before dismissing her. If she fed the little devil what she wanted she'd only be encouraged to recycle the same behavior. It was just so difficult to bite the bullet and keep her head down.

She was notorious for proving that Pinkie had untrained patience.

Her eyes lingered on the foil. It smelled horrible, but Tree Hugger appeared entirely unbothered by the world. Pretty often, actually. If she gave her word that they would help clear her head, maybe she should try it.

After all, doing the same thing and expecting change has just led to more insanity.

It crinkled while she slowly pawed it open. They looked pleasing. Pinkie would happily call it eye candy. They were soft, puffy, and slathered with thick icing on the top. Oh, what the heck, they were only brownies.

Pinkamena lifted an eyebrow with a mute snicker.

Pinkie Pie decided to rip it off like a band-aid. It wasn't like she couldn't spit it out if they didn't fit her standards.

She popped a piece into her mouth. Her senses were immediately overcome with chocolate and a hint of vanilla extract. Chewy, a little gooey, and they had a nice texture to them when going down. Surprisingly acceptable, considering how they smelled.

Pinkamena melodiously hummed a response, “you’re going to regret it if you swallow.”

Her words were an irritating tease but unsuccessful. She swallowed, hard. Pinkie locked eyes with the Mare in the Mirror before slowly bringing another piece to her lips.

“Right, because eating Tree Hugger’s brownies really puts me in my place,” the illusion scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She then sat with a throaty snort, hooves crossed, watching intently.

Her defiance sure didn't seem to be bugging Pinkamena. Maybe she didn't fully understand what they'd do. Even Pinkie Pie didn't really know. All she knew was that Fluttershy recommended them. She trusted her.

—And so, she ate them. All of them.

All Pinkamena cared to do was observe, unresponsive, with a little foreboding glimmer in the corner of her eye.

Sprawled on her back, was Pinkie.

Remnants of the brownies carpeted the grass. They were only crumbs. Even in small pieces, they caked the ground around her. Most of it was sitting comfortably in Pinkie’s stomach. Although she was tranquil, the world around her was far too docile.

Her brain felt slow as if it were moseying along. Typically, her brain had the pace of a jackrabbit.

Her eyes were wide open, face solemn, while she continued to stare blankly at the clouds overhead. There was a curious red hue fogging her eyes. Not just that, but her limbs felt strangely weighted and equally as sluggish as her head.

It wasn’t a bad feeling, but it was definitely…odd. She couldn’t piece two and two together even if Sugarcube Corner depended on it.

She just felt like…lying there. Doing nothing.

Did she have something to do? She couldn’t tell you. Everything just seemed to drift away as if she were aboard a theme park’s lazy river.

Pinkie was smiling a little, a bit lopsided, but a smile nonetheless.

“How’s the air up there?” A voice called, spiced with mockery.

She turned to her chin upward to view her companion, who was humorously upside down to her. “I’m on the ground, on the grasss—”

Her voice dragged while she slowly made a snow-angel in the vegetation. She rolled onto her side, scooped up the grass, and smushed her face in it.

"I'm pretty sure you aren't grounded. Actually, I'd argue you're quite high."

Pinkamena chuckled, but it didn’t bother Pinkie.

“I’m not in the sky goofus, I’d be a pegasus if I were. Just enjoy the sun, and the grass, everything is just so—”

Pinkie Pie stopped, losing her train of thought.

“—Relaxed, I assume?” Pinkamena asked.

“Yes, that’s the word! Relaxed…” She trailed off again, rolling once more on her back before lazily casting a hoof toward the sky. “Shhhh, Pinkamena…listen to nature, learn from it.”

“I’d be able to listen to it more thoroughly if I had some wine,” she replied, rubbing her forehead with enough force to cause a bruise. “I cannot deal with all of this sober. Tree Hugger is an absolute moron.”

"You can't solve problems with alcohol. You've gotta deal with your problems emotionally. You can't keep it bottled in. It'll burst like a shaken soda."

“Alcohol could solve this problem. Hopefully drink and forget,” she retorted, wrinkling her nose with distaste. “Now I understand alcoholics.”

“That’s a bad habit to start—”

“—You’re the reason I have bad habits!” Pinkamena accused, suddenly pulling back and swallowing the rest of her brusque outburst. She cleared her throat and continued, “If you keep making my blood pressure rise like this, I’m going to pop a blood vessel.”

Pinkie’s eyes lolled, “…have you ever wondered why there’s a light in the fridge when almost every pony scolds you for sneaking in a midnight snack? Especially when you’re on a diet.”

Pinkamena gave a sigh that showed she was quite irritable, "No. I've never wondered because, unlike you, I have a sense of self-control with food."

“…But then why did they put a light in my fridge? They do it so you won’t fumble in the dark like a bat trying to snag some desserts to quell your munchies.”

"Mmm," the Mare in the Mirror grunted, "or perhaps it's a warning to those that indulge in shameless gluttony. It is a sin, you know. Both sides of the afterlife announce their presence in a light. One is a divine and golden warmth, the other, is heat from a blazing inferno."

Pinkie failed to crack Pinkamena’s code. “There aren’t any infernos in heaven.”

“No—” Pinkamena stifled her laugh with a hoof. “No…there’s not.”

Pinkie rested a hoof on her stomach, where she felt a light buzz. Weird…she just ate about thirty minutes ago. Once she felt the rumble, it evolved into stabs of hunger. She tried to reposition herself on the grass to soothe it. She flopped a cheek on the grass and hugged her abdomen.

Her follower found the sight of her scrunched up like an inch-worm amusing.

“…Hungry,” she moaned, whimpering a starved mewl.

Now the feeling was lashing out with more strength. It was causing a strange weakness. Just a few moments ago, her stomach was tame. The pangs were making it hard to focus, and her limbs still felt like flopping ropes. Now, she craved a meal big enough to inflate the stomach of a Minotaur. Her mouth was heavily salivating and nearly cascading down her chin.

"Yeah, I'd say so. You ate like six edibl—” she visibly bit her tongue, biting back her words before reconstructing them. “—Brownies.”

Pinkamena didn't appear to be as churlish as she usually was. She actually looked a bit concerned.

The Mare in the Mirror pondered for a moment, “now that I’m thinking about it…is that dangerous? There had to be at least eight grams in that batch.”

Pinkie threw out a hoof and sank it into a patch of weeds. She dragged her body forward while marking the doors as her objective.

It was almost impossible to stand up. Maybe there was a cheese stick laying around somewhere, or some pony had a glass bowl full of mints on their desk. Anything sounded edible at the moment. She'd even chew through a belt.

However, walking all the way out of the castle and into the town square didn't sound very pleasing. She needed something now, and she needed a lot of that something.

“…Food,” she pleaded, attempting to wobble onto her forehooves to no avail. “Major…munchies.”

Pinkamena stroked her chin with a hoof. She clicked her tongue a few times before glancing down at Pinkie's attempt to lug herself toward the double doors.

“Don’t quote me on this, but yesterday, didn’t AJ get a very large order of catered dishes? Remember, you know, before she reminded you of your utter failure to retrieve the herbs she needed?”

Pinkie Pie slapped her hoof on the concrete steps making a loud clap, “didja have to bring that up?”

“Hear me out for a moment,” Pinkamena persuaded, resting one hoof alongside The Element of Laughter’s. “Unless you somehow hid cotton in my ears, I believe I heard her say she ordered a plethora of plates that were unusable. She threw quite the tantrum when the price didn’t match her pocket depth and she tried to cheat the Gala by marking off herbs for a better price.”

Pinkie rested her weight onto her elbow so that she could prop herself up, “didn’t she throw them out?”

“You’d think she did,” the Mare in the Mirror hinted, “but we all know Applejack is a mule when it comes to stubbornness. I’d bet they’re still sitting pretty fresh in the kitchens. She wouldn’t waste such things unless she had a reason to. All she needed to do to fix them was sprinkle a few garnishes and be done with it. My gut tells me that’s what she’s been up to all evening.”

Pinkie Pie pursed her lips with a bit of distrust, “why are you offering advice? You never do that unless there are strings attached.”

“Consider it an investment in continuous entertainment for a mare who’s been bored out of her mind ever since we were born.”

Maybe she had a point. Yesterday AJ had deemed most of them un-servable for the Gala. Perhaps, she could swoop in and take a few plates off her hooves. It wasn’t like they were sitting around for anything else but to be thrown away.

Pinkamena never gave free advice, though. It was bothersome. Whatever she was trying to do needed to be carefully observed by a watchful eye and foiled when revealed. Her illusion was crafty and was bound to lead her down the wrong path when she got the chance.

“I’m watching you,” Pinkie threatened with squinted eyes in her direction. "I know you're hoping for me to slip up again, but I won't. I know your plan."

Pinkamena’s pearlescent smile was a picture of innocence to the untrained eye. Pinkie, fortunately, could see right through the double-sided glass.

Mhmm, definitely up to something, and the bad thing was—she gave her that smile on purpose. Her poker face was unrivaled, and she could easily hide her intentions if she wished. She wanted Pinkie to be uneasy.

"I'm not gonna let you win," Pinkie Pie mumbled while steadying herself on her four hooves. "I'm going to get a quick snack so my head isn't so foggy, and then I'm gonna run this Gala so hard—”

Pinkamena followed suit with an easy gait, “—like you have been doing? Noted.”

Pinkie stopped abruptly, and if her follower weren’t made of air, she would have had a muzzle full of haunch.

“I—” Pinkie Pie shivered back her frustration with a visible roll of her shoulders. “No, no…you’re not doing this to me. Bad Pinkameanie, you’re not gonna make the crazy Pinkie come out, nope… nope.”

“Oooo, I’m positively quivering in anticipation,” the mare quipped with a sharp chuckle. “You’re loosening your grip on the reins there, bud. Giving me the classic cold shoulder isn’t enough of a punishment. I wonder what else is on your ongoing lists of ways to hush me up other than bondage.”

What she'd give for earmuffs. Why weren't the brownies working? Something in Equestria had to work. Why was she immune to everything? It wasn't fair!

Get to the kitchen, get to the kitchen—

Pinkamena was heartily laughing, “get it, get it? Ha, cause like—oh, right, you’ve got the maturity of a yearling. Wasting my breath here.”

Her hooves echoed freely throughout the hall. Her pace was alarming to some bystanders, but they kept their heads low. Her stomach was doing summersaults, her brain was pulsating with rage, and her cheeks were puffy.

Now she understood Rainbow Dash when she told Pinkie that silence is golden. How in Equestria’s nation could Pinkamena drive her up the wall this much?

It wasn’t long before the longed-for kitchen was in her grasp, as to be expected when whipping through the corridors like a ravaging cyclone. Her hoof rested on the golden knob. Her heartbeat slowed while she slowly commanded them to move with a tug.

“…Speaking of boredom, for such an oddball, your subconscious is quite boring. It's about as exciting as watching paint dry. Have you ever watched paint dry on a wall? Wait—scratch that, you weirdly have—”

“—We’re here,” Pinkie interrupted, pulling the handles to her chest to crack open a sliver of light from the kitchen.

However, instead of light, it revealed an aroma.

"We've got to be quiet here. The kitchens are kind of off—" the smell had sown her mouth shut while her nose filled in the blanks.

No wonder it was off-limits. That smell would attract a hungry hoard for miles! There was no dignity left when it hit her. The temptation overthrew any and every lesson she was ever taught about self-control.

She pressed her cheek against the cold metal and surveyed the area. It was abandoned, strangely. Not one soul occupied the entire province. Instead, the only bodies happened to be hulking piles of freshly baked pastries.

“Oh…sweet motherlode of toothaches that’s a lot of cavities!” Pinkie whimpered, her rump bouncing like a filly at a candy store.

“Scooch, I can’t see your consequences I predicted come to fruition at this angle.”

No contact was felt, but Pinkamena had found a way to smuggle herself through the crack as well. Her forelimbs draped themselves over Pinkie’s shoulders and her chin rested between the mare’s ears.

“Oh wow,” she breathed, “pftttt…ick, your ear got in my mouth. Stop twitching it so much.”

Pinkie was so excited her entire body was practically spasmodic.

“I’ve gotta—” Pinkie bit her lip, “I’ve gotta—”

“You were born for this,” Pinkamena enabled, “this is what you were made to do.”

“All I do is bake…why…why wasn’t I assigned to taste test these? I—I coulda made a few too.”

“You’re darn right! How dare they neglect you of this! Criminal.”

The icing was sloppy, the leveling mediocre, the craft looked rushed. Of course, no pony took their job as seriously as Pinkie Pie, but this was a field she exceeded in. Why didn’t Twilight ask her to help here? Applejack was in charge of the food, but by the look of it, maybe that wasn’t the best plan.

The donut tower's icing was sweating. The kitchen's temperature needed to be aired out or the heat from the ovens would melt them. The smell was undoubtedly seductive, though. She’d assume the dusted truffles were the culprit alongside the fresh vats of cooling caramel.

She noticed the gathering wad of saliva on her bottom lip.

“They won’t notice if you indulge yourself with two or three,” Pinkamena huskily invited.

She spoke with the devil's tongue. During the years of her life, not once had the mare's words ever been so inviting and convincing. They may be honeyed, but they weren't of a lie, necessarily. They wouldn't notice a few missing it was virtually impossible. There were too many.

She smacked her lips, “AJ…AJ will be really, really, mad if I do.”

“What she doesn’t know won’t kill her, right?”

Darn this mare. Darn her and her persuasion.

Pinkamena had almost ensnared her, but she pulled through. “Nope, absolutely not. Can’t do it, no-siree. Under section seven of Canterlot’s Gala Guidelines, Pinkamena Diane Responsibility Pie is not allowed near the desserts under any circumstances unless given direct permission from a higher authority.”

"You memorized the entire three-hundred-page guideline?"

“Yes indeedy, every page to make sure this Gala has Pinkie Pie’s official party stamp of approval.”

"Impressive," she admitted, "but you are the higher authority. Are you not?”

“Well I—” Pinkie Pie’s will began to unravel. “—I may be one of the leaders, but Twilight banned me from the desserts because I had one… and then I had one more, and then I had three—”

“—and three turned into seven, yes, I’ve heard this unfortunate tale.” Pinkamena said with a sarcastic roll of her wrist, “but that was…what? A year ago? You’ve grown, you’ve changed, and now you’re at the top of the food chain. You’re a monarch now, aren’t you? Even if you don’t take advantage of your ability to do whatever you please, are you really going to sit there and let them serve…oh, I don’t know…that?”

She gestured toward a leaning cake, which was so disproportionate, it was slowly sulking off the table. It broke in half and splattered its top onto the floor with a wet plop. Pinkie Pie grimaced with a sharp breath in between her teeth.

“It isn’t personal,” Pinkamena continued, “you just have to uphold your title as Ponyville’s best baker, right? You don't need coddling. You know how to manage yourself, am I correct? So that little rule in the book is insignificant.”

“They do need a little…erm…just a little sprucing up. Looking a little rough around the edges over there.” Pinkie chomped down on her hoof, hoping to nibble her skepticism away. “Just in and out, two-minute errand, right? Right?”

She wasn’t exactly confirming with Pinkamena; she was more so beating it into her head that she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t stay.

The mare agreed with a swift nod.

That was all the push she needed to open the door the remaining way. Resting on a table nearby was a frosting spatula which was quickly taken into her possession. She brushed a strand of mane from her eye while she approached the display of cakes.

Pressing her tongue to the side of her mouth, she got to work.

Carefully she collected a swirl of icing before pushing it back into its original position. Pinkamena had taken a liking to the shadows where she had parked herself by the sink to observe Pinkie's craft.

Such a fluffy interior, she couldn't help but examine the puffiness of the cake within. While she pushed the first one back into a straightened stance, Pinkie felt her stomach grumble.

Her hoof had a little splotch of icing on it, and she promptly popped it into her mouth without a second thought. That was a mistake.

Their eyes met, Pinkie’s hoof still in her mouth.

“You shouldn’t have tasted the icing,” Pinkamena said.

“I shouldn’t have tasted the icing,” Pinkie repeated.

Her stomach had released a monster. It was vocal about its hunger to the point where it gnawed down her common sense. Pinkie couldn't eat this cake. She could not, under any circumstances, eat this cake. Applejack would buck her so hard she'd be on the moon for ten thousand years. Alone. She would not disappoint her friend. No, she was stronger than this urge.

Pinkie’s eyes strayed to the dripping icing as it began to lean again.

This one was too far gone to save. AJ wouldn't need it. She wouldn't need it.

“I’m not eating this cake,” Pinkie slurred, slinking her hoof from her mouth and slamming her chin on the table.

Such a waste of a perfectly edible morsel. At this angle, she could view it in all its mouth-watering glory. A triumph of sugar and goodness, a thick coat of buttercream, with a tantalizing parade of fruits and designs.

Pinkamena leaned in, resting her chin in a hoof with a growing smile.

“I….I—” Pinkie stammered.

So sophisticated, a cake meant for high-class echelons. This leviathan of desserts must fetch, ten, a dozen, a hundred bits in price at least. A titan of its kind, a magnificent golden egg among the rest—

“—I’m eating this cake.”

“There it is,” Pinkamena celebrated.

Pinkie gouged the heart of it with booth hooves. There was no stopping it when it happened. She cupped as much as she could into her mouth and swallowed it without a second’s remorse. So good, sin tasted soooo good. This was wrong on a multitude of levels, but it was right in so many shameful ways.

“I’m a failure!” Pinkie Pie wailed, continuously going back for more.

She had to recognize it, and she did, but that didn’t mean she was stopping. No, it just meant she knew it was wrong and she fully embraced it. She once more dove into the cake, but the eaten support failed to keep it upright. It plopped onto her head, coating her ears and muzzle to the extent to where her mane was dyed white.

She ran her hooves through her mane, flinging the debris all over the place.

This felt good, this felt so good. Maybe this was a form of stress eating, perhaps it was, but this was what she deserved. She deserved this cake.

It wasn’t controversial. The last few months have had a strain on her. She needed a distraction—good, clean, fun.

Speaking of what she deserved, she deserved to taste those griffon scones over there. Pinkie was the one who taught them how to properly infuse flavor. Without her trick, they had the appeasing taste of straight-up dirt.

So, she took a bite out of those too. They weren't bad. The griffons were definitely improving, but how about the dragons?

Gem-stones…she’s never had gemstones.

Pinkie heard they were crunchy. Why wouldn't they be crunchy? They were rocks, weren't they? Heavy, tasty-looking stones. Maybe she should taste a little of the dragon stash. Dragonlord Ember was supposed to be coming, Pinkie had to make sure they were up to standard.

Pinkamena couldn’t stop laughing.

No…no, biting a rock was a bad idea.

Pinkie Pie spat out the gemstone, rubbing a hoof across her lips. Why would dragons even eat those? Maybe she wouldn’t be here debating about it if Twilight would have let her be the taste tester a long time ago!

“…Glutton,” Pinkamena commented.

“Uh’m nawt a gluten,” Pinkie sputtered between a gulp and a gasp for air.

She then proceeded to contradict herself by eating a hole through the room.

One might have thought an earthquake ransacked the place. The fondue fountain had been lapped up dry. Cans of whipped cream crackled while Pinkie swirled the contents onto her tongue—swallowing heaping mouthfuls.

Pinkamena had been positively howling the entire time. Her hoof had been slapping the flooring, repeatedly, in an involuntary spaz.

Her laughter was raucous, ribcage clutched tightly, while globs of fat tears lingered in the corners of her eyes.

Pinkie internally growled while throwing the can of whipped cream to the side. It clattered on the flooring and rolled toward a table’s leg before bumping against it. She ripped a hoof across her lips, smearing the residue across her cheek before she turned to scold her.

“It’s. Not. Funny!”

Pinkamena wagged her hoof toward Pinkie mid-laugh, “look at you! You’re covered head to hoof—and the best part is, you don’t even realize the hole you’ve dug yourself in.”

"I can clean it up in a jiffy. No pony will notice."

“That’s a tall order, Ponk.” Pinkamena challenged, her eyebrows wiggling as her hoof displayed the room. “You’ll need a whole team to cover your tracks, hun.”

Pinkie felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. While her eyes tracked the hoof's wake, she came to realize what Pinkamena had meant.

The entire place was trashed.

Her throat became taught. She could only imagine that this was what it felt like to be literally choking on your own worry.

Bottles were spinning aimlessly, rugs of flattened cake were on the floor, and curious icing stalactites hanging from the ceiling.

Before anyone asked, no, she had no idea how that happened.

“…What did…I do?”

“Ah yes,” Pinkamena began, “your greater zeal for baking has led to some…rather, unavoidable habits. Every creature has a weakness, dragons have a lust for riches, every bibliophile with an extensive collection of books gathering dust—and you—”

She looked her up and down before vanishing into wisps and appearing beside Pinkie. She leaned against her before rolling a hoof to summon a thought.

“—Your weakness speaks for itself, does it not?” Pinkamena said, gently flicking her nose with a contactless gesture.

Suddenly, the pieces clicked. This was a set-up. She knew this would happen.

“You…You—” Pinkie’s face was beginning to brighten with a heavy red tint swelling into her cheeks. “You cupcake-choking, cross-eyed, cheesy-slimeball—”

“—Woah,” Pinkamena frowned with a hesitant step back, “you didn’t have to pull out a gun in a knife fight.”

“You KNEW I'd do this. You set this whole thing up!"

She thrust a hoof into her chest and Pinkamena shrugged it off.

“I did nothing of the sort,” she argued with a deceivingly calm demeanor. “Repeat to me what I said you should do.”

“You told me to go to the kitchens and eat all these yummy—”

Pinkamena cut her off by poking her muzzle "—wrong.”

She swatted her away, "I'm not a liar! You totally did say that—”

“—Nope, you’re wrong.” Pinkamena debated, with a sardonic grin. “As I recall, I told you to eat the plates that Applejack wouldn’t serve, or if not that, take two or three small pastries. I never told you to eat everything in the room.”

The Element of Laughter grit her teeth. Debating with her was futile because the evidence stacked entirely in Pinkamena’s favor. Playing her like a fiddle was what The Mare in the Mirror did best. The fault was her weight to bear and hers alone. There was nothing she could do but kick herself in the teeth and bite back her searing fury.

Pinkie was overwhelmed with chagrin. After consistently warning herself of the mare's trap, she had willingly fallen victim to it.

“…I can’t believe this,” she whispered dejectedly.

Pinkamena parted her lips and leaned closer to her ear, “you better start making it believable. This party of one is about to be a party of two.”

She snapped back to reality when steps began to clatter behind the door. Some pony was coming, and even though her brain told her to move, she was rooted to her spot. Her heels snapped together, shoulders pinched tightly, and her face bleached.

The doorknob started to twist. The atmosphere was daunting. It wiggled, grunts emerging from behind. A shoulder pressed against the metal, the hinges screamed, and the silhouette was revealed.

Applejack looked up from her clipboard.

The pen from her mouth fell. It bounced on the floor and rolled before coming to a complete stop at Pinkie's hooves.

“Caught with your hoof literally in the cookie jar,” Pinkamena jested.

“Ah…what—” she was unable to speak while she heavily swept her eyes around the kitchen. “Everything ‘round here is ruined!”

Pinkie’s lips stuck together when she tried to open them. Her mouth was dry, but her neck, forehead, and cheeks were uncomfortably damp.

Applejack prodded a half-eaten pie which squished when touched. Her face was knotted, and a thick vein throbbed across her forehead. She wet her lips before suddenly smacking the pie off the table. Pinkie Pie flinched when the sound echoed through the room.

The Element of Honesty’s temper was beginning to become really concerning.

The dessert fell face-first behind the table and gave a fresh coat of mess to the floor.

Her breathing was ragged. Pinkie could only stand there in complete and fearful silence.

“Did ya do this, Pinkie?” She asked, in a very low and near raspy monotone.

“I…well, I—”

“—Ah’m gonna ask one more time, did ya do this or not?” Her tone was a bit sharper this time, face growing tighter by the minute.

Pinkie tapped her hoof awkwardly on the tile. She dodged AJ’s eyes and continued to find solace in areas vacant of her glare.

All she could do was tell the truth.

She took a shaky breath, "Flutters gave me some brownies and I got really, really, hungry. I've never been so hungry in my life AJ, so…so…I came here to see if I could get anything to eat and a little bit of icing got on my hoof. I licked it off, and it was just so good, so I had one little bite…and then I had three more—”

“—And then ya did ‘xactly what got you banned in the first place.” Applejack finished.

“….Yeah,” Pinkie deflated, hanging her head.

The country mare slowly nodded, her eyes glacial, before making her way toward the door. Without a sound, she opened it. A shadow fell over her face while she turned to address Pinkie, who had still not moved from that exact spot.

“Ya got tah go, Pinkie. Ah’ve got tah clean up all this.”

“AJ…” Pinkie called, hopeless in trying to gain a positive response.

She put up a hoof, “Ah can’t, ah really can’t talk about this or ah’m goin’ to say somethin’ ah’ll regret.”

“But I—”

“—but nothin’ Pinkie, there’s nothin’ to say. It would be better for all of us if ya wait in your room until ah can figure somethin’ out.”

It was best not to stoke the fire. As much as she wanted to defend this until her tongue was raw, she wasn't going to earn any empathy from the mare. So, Pinkie accepted her exile without a fight. Applejack jutted her forehoof out the door, almost expecting a march. She passed her up, timidly brushing gazes, before settling on the other side.

The door slammed shut, causing a cloud of dust to blanket her mane.

“…Ah don’t even know what to do,” a voice expressed sorrowfully from behind the metal.

Pinkamena appeared like a devil on her shoulder moments later. There were no words to describe how gross she felt inside. She didn't mean to do Applejack dirty twice in a row, now. She was flummoxed by how she did worse than the day before. How could she let this happen? Why was she so careless?

"How could you do that to your dear friend? Despicable. After all the blood, sweat, and tears she poured into her work. Impressive how she's able to pull her weight and yours at the same time, but in a way, not really. She is used to plowing fields, after all. Her legs are cut!”

Pinkie didn’t waste a moment in getting up and leaving Pinkamena alone. She couldn’t…not right now. Her spirits were already dead and she didn’t need a vulture picking apart what was left of it.

Pinkamena didn't appear to like being brushed off.

"Hey, where are you going?" Pinkamena called, ignorant of Pinkie's weakening tolerance. "You can't blow me off like that. This isn't my—"

“—Don’t talk to me,” Pinkie snapped.

“I will do whatever I darn well please!” Pinkamena rebelled with sudden animosity. “You always throw a bit of blame my way when you can’t bear to accept the fault. For a pony that claims responsibility is in their name, I’m starting to think it’s only there for a punchline.”

Her steps were beginning to morph into stomps.

No matter how far she ran, no matter how fast she thought she was going—she couldn’t escape her. If her body had been lost in the distance between them, her voice remained an echo in her head. Pinkamena’s words had an insatiable hunger to them, always nipping at her heels with a sharp tongue.

It never stopped and it never would.

She didn't realize she had been running until she felt the grueling strain in her legs. Pinkie was heaving, nostrils flaring, while she bent over to catch her breath. Within the reflection of the polished rails, she could see Pinkamena's eyes illuminating within them. Her breathing was steady.

Pinkie Pie looked back at her with gasping pants.

You couldn’t escape the Mare in the Mirror. The miles put between you and her were only inches to Pinkamena.

“…Why are you doing this?” Pinkie rasped finally succumbing to her fatigue.

She was tired of running. Tired of fighting.

For a moment, Pinkamena's jaw tensed. No words were said. There was a flicker, not a complete spread curtain into her emotions, but a single crack. It was a shred of softness that had revealed remorse behind the wall of ice.

She felt bad. This wasn’t an estimated guess. A wince was all the evidence she needed.

The moment was spoiled when Pinkamena retreated behind a veil of mane over her eyes. She turned her cheek with a pensive stare, drilling holes into the floor.

“Look at me,” Pinkie coaxed, her anger dissolving when noticing there was a break. "Just…talk to me. We don't have to fight all the time."

She wriggled like a worm on a hook. Pinkie could tell the mare felt cornered, and when she was backed against a wall—her inborn instinct was to lash out.

“You know I'm the bane of your existence, quit pretending that you don't. My sole purpose will always be the inspiration behind my actions. Every once in a while, you approach me with this same conversation, and I entertain you with the same answer. This is how I will always be and this is how our relationship will forever stay.”

It was as if her hope was drained like that of a squeezed wet rag. It was washed down to the pit of her stomach, leaving an emptiness where it once resided in her heart. As always, Pinkamena had disappointed her by sticking to her ways and never allowing room for change.

“Fine,” Pinkie responded, hammering the final nail on the coffin.

If she didn't want to live in harmony, that was her choice. She had done what she could, but it appeared Pinkamena was here to stay as the odious being she always knew. If their destiny was to detest each other for the rest of time, so be it. She had thought, maybe…maybe Pinkamena had finally started to see the damage she was causing.

The rest of the walk to her room was painfully silent, and honestly, it was refreshing. The bickering, the games they played, and the blame was too much for one day. It was too much for one lifetime.

She placed her hoof on the door and swatted it open. It obeyed, revealing her untouched room in view. She kicked it closed behind her. Without a sound, she moved toward the window and pushed it open. The breeze immediately ruffled her mane. Resting her chin on the window seal, she sat onto the plush pillows giving her a generous view of the castle.

The sunset created a fiery display in the sky. Orange and red warred within the airspace creating a beautiful mesh of color. The sun peeked above the hills from miles away, but the stars were beating it down to make way for the night. The entire day had been wasted.

The garden rested below her. Tables were set up with elegant silk cloths blowing freely in the wind. A few ponies quietly chatted with some bursts of laughter here and there to complete the mood.

“What strings do you think they had to pull to get an invite to the upcoming Gala?” Pinkamena asked, throwing her own forehooves over the window. “None of them look important, dare I say, commoners in expensive clothing.”

“Leave me alone,” Pinkie Pie said with vacant strength in her voice.

“Smell those bits burning. Say, how much do you all have in your budget? Everything is just so prestigious, you even thought of setting up oil tiki torches for the night.”

Her ear flicked. Tiki torches? This wasn't a beach party. Lanterns were being strung about, but no tiki torches.

They also didn't give off a smell like sulfur. They actually had quite a pleasant aroma even when used to keep mosquitoes away. The air…the air had a bit of heaviness to it and a faint whiff of stench.

Her head perked up, “is something burning?”

“Probably the arrival of the dragons. They’ve never been very stealthy, probably because you can smell them coming from a continent away.”

“No, I don’t think that’s it.” Pinkie denied, leaning farther over the edge to get a good look at the scenery. She took another sniff, “I know that smell. It’s a stinky smell I’ve never forgotten. It’s sulfur, easy to identify.”

“Sulfur? Yep, dragons.”

“No, you don’t get it. I recognize this smell—”

Something fell on her nose. She wiggled it before brushing it off onto her hoof to examine. It was a crinkled black speck, warm to the touch, that had a glowing outline around the edge.

Ash.

More began to fall. Like gentle snow, it fell in thin flakes. Pinkie couldn’t stop looking up to where a plume of smoke was beginning to gather in the distance.

She knew what this was. Deep inside her gut, she knew it.

“Making quite an entrance, aren’t they?” Pinkamena spectated, while heads began to lift upward to view the falling flakes.

"No…no," Pinkie Pie croaked, "they told me it wasn't real and that it was a cinnabar vein. My sisters wouldn't lie. They never lie to me!”

Something crackled. A crunching noise emerged, followed by a heavy exhale. The castle was trembling, but it was no earthquake. Something was scaling the side of the tower. Black scales sliced through the marble as if it were wet paper, and an eye as bright as the moon followed them.

A foggy breath emitted vapor as thick as a cloud, while a head peeked out from behind the coned roof. There was a cacophony of mutters, the creature’s sudden appearance mystifying the crowd. It looked at them, the slit in its eye being refreshed by its thin third-eyelid.

It arched its neck, throat grumbling, teeth bared—and roared.

The screech was stentorian! Pinkie ducked, the volume of it causing her to crash onto the floor with her hooves barricading her ears. The chandelier above her jingled, helplessly, putting a concerning strain on the plaster holding it up. No bout of thunder could hope to belittle the wyrm’s screech. It was the sound of a battle horn that raked over Equestria with unmatched dominance.

Like a python on a branch, it coiled the tower. Its size and appearance were gigantic but nearly invisible against the darkening sky. Ropes of saliva flung from its jaws when it faked out the audience with a lunge, snapping aimlessly in their direction. Pinkie was stone-cold, ashen, and quaking so hard Pinkamena noticed.

"Chill, you know it's not real. Relax, enjoy it."

The wyrm released its hold, divebombing toward the ground where it collided with the garden. A shockwave caused the tables to be blown into the wall, with some ponies smacking against them. The beast’s tail flipped up, head burrowed in the grass, before digging beneath the earth’s crust.

“…I stand corrected,” Pinkamena admitted.

It had enough strength to rattle the ceiling. Pinkie shielded her head as chunks of the roof came crashing down onto the floor. The entire castle was shivering! Dust shot into the air, furniture was damaged, and the door to escape her room was blocked with fallen debris. So much for getting out.

Its muzzle suddenly popped out, nearly gouging a stallion trying to flee. He was flung into the air, squabbling to the point of tears. Bushes were torn, a wave of dirt flared into the air, while the creature tore through the ground with a destructive magnitude.

It was chaos, and many ponies were left behind. Others were stranded without the energy to move and some were unconscious.

Pinkie’s stomach felt like she had ingested spoiled milk. What should she do? What could she do? What was this thing?

Pinkie flattened herself against the wall under her window. She hoped to avoid more cascading damage, “I think he followed me here!”

A stallion screamed as he was flung toward them both. His face smacked just below the window seal, limbs sprawled, with his body bouncing off the rock like a rubber ball. He fell into the bushes below.

“Oh my gosh!” Pinkamena gasped, looking downward toward the print he had made. “Twilight’s insurance plan is going to need some negotiating.”

The stallion groaned.

“Take this seriously!” Pinkie shouted, watching more of the ceiling start to crack and spew puffs of dust.

The wyrm was met with resistance when it was walled by a puff of fire. Grinding his teeth, he used his meaty tail to clear the flames. The light was smeared, the smoke dimming, while a small turquoise dragon leveled herself in front of his eyes. Her sword hardly stood against the size of the wyrm’s teeth, but she still wielded it with near-foolish bravado.

She raised her weapon and it caused a rallying cry.

Without delay, she jabbed it forward and skewered the flesh between his jaws. The wyrm reeled, gumming the toothpick lodged between his lips, before shaking his head to fling it off. It hadn’t punctured very deep only because Ember had the courtesy to give him a warning first.

She barrel-rolled forward, mid-air, before catching her airborne sword within her claws.

The creature didn’t appear to have as much finesse and agility as Ember. The draconic overlord was swift while the wyrm blundered with every move.

“I tugo ne laukkopj fiht chea, zah I fipp xowouh chea,” he said, pulling back to draw distance between them.

He opened his jaws. First, there was a spark in the back of his throat. It warmed into light as big as a football before expanding into a mass that dwarfed just about every creature there. The fire gushed forward, sizzling when pouring out with the strength of a pressure hose.

“Woah!” She cried, batting her wings with two quick beats to maneuver away from it.

It drank up the garden. Leaves browned, the grass caught fire, and metal fences bowed when curling to the heat.

“I’ve got to get down there and help!” Pinkie cried, throwing a hindleg over the seal before growing nauseated when viewing the height. “Oh, that’s so very high…mmgh, so high.”

There was no way other than this to get down. Unfortunately, the height's view would kill her faster than the crushing weight of the marble falling from her ceiling.

Ember continued trying to escape the vortex, but it had surrounded her. A rugged tail swept out into the open from the cage of flames and clipped her without warning. The sucker punch caught the dragon off guard. The surprise alone caused her to crumble and her wings to buckle.

She dropped out of the air like a fly, spinning down like a corkscrew into the lake of fire below. Unable to right herself, her wings flailed around like a tattered flag. Her sword slipped through her claws. She tried to grasp at the hilt but to no avail. There was a snap, crisp as a bullwhip, before a group of balloons secured her fall. With a grunt, her body collided with them, but the impact wasn't harmful. Pressing her claws against them to test the stability, she wrinkled her brow.

“What in the—”

“Yoo-hoo,” a voice greeted, only accompanied by disembodied eyes. “Forgive me, my memory isn’t as profound as it was six millennia ago. Have we met?”

Discord materialized beside the wyrm, leaning an elbow against his horn. He knocked on it before levitating in front of his muzzle and snapping on a rubber glove. With a sagged lip, Discord pulled down his own horn, which stretched into a stethoscope—that he pressed against the wyrm’s scaly plating.

“Interesting, I don’t believe I can detect a heart under all that ruthlessness. I had to check for myself before believing such rumors. Ruining a Gala after these ponies put such passion into it, how heartless.”

The wyrm’s lip curled. He then spewed dry smoke into Discord’s face.

Waving the wisps away, he responded, "I'm afraid you've wandered onto private property without an invitation. You see—”

Between two claws, an envelope appeared.

“—I’ve been invited, you on the other hand, have not.”

A shadow fell over Discord as the wyrm arched his spine. Opening his jaws, he prepared another round.

The draconequus was unaffected, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Politely of course.”

His body suddenly twisted into a cannon where a detached eagle claw lit a fuse. It ate its way down the string, sparkling, as the wyrm’s throat expanded with heat. He released his lethal breath which bloomed into a cloud of fire. The fuse burnt down to the wick and snapped the cannon into firing. A cannonball rolled through the air with a whistle, before lodging itself in his throat.

The flames never left his teeth. The leviathan choked and smoke billowed from his gums. The force knocked him onto his back with a mighty crash.

He flailed, hacking on the metal in his esophagus, while Discord reverted back to normal.

“Please do come back when you receive an invitation.”

Pinkie grappled her back hoof into a crevice. Vines had crawled their way up the stonework which passed as emergency make-do rock-climbing gear. It could support her weight. She tested by tugging at them with all her strength. She could climb down, but she had to be careful. At this height a fall could be lethal.

Especially since a wyrm was causing quakes with every move.

“Why am I so high? I’ll never get down,” she said aloud.

“Quit your bellyaching,” Pinkamena rebuked, “you’ve been much higher than this today. This is a breeze compared to what Tree Hugger put you through.”

Pinkie entangled herself with the thickest vine closest to her. She wrapped it around her wrist and hoof. Giving it an extra tug, she then lowered her body downward. There was a dull thump, the castle shook, and Pinkie was juddered to where her grip loosened.

She cried out, quickly securing her footing by scrambling her back hooves onto rocky ledges sticking out.

Small pebbles fell and clinked on her head. The wall steadied.

The sky crackled, and a rainbow trail lit up the darkness. Something sliced through the haze with the speed of a bullet—causing a sound that mimicked sharp thunder.

Dash emerged while delivering a solid kick into the wyrm’s cheek.

Pinkie slipped, and a stone was pulled out from under her. She dangled, clutching the vine by pulling it close to her chest and face.

She couldn’t watch the battle unfold thanks to her position, but she could hear the snapping of jaws.

Rainbow Dash cried out, or grunted, she couldn’t tell.

Something unfurled from behind the tower of smoke. A purple beam with the accuracy of a laser pointer stormed past her shoulder. It caused a fierce wind to kick up, blowing Pinkie away from the wall. The vine thinned, unable to support her weight, forewarning a snap. Pinkie Pie screeched, and in the nick of time, was able to grab another vine before it broke apart.

Her face was sweating. She was never going to make it down!

“Could you guys dial it down, please?!” She hollered over the raging war happening below. “Cause, there’s gonna be no more parties if Pinkie Pie breaks her spine! I’m serious, I really, really, don’t want to break my spine!”

Twilight vigorously flapped her wings, horn smoking, as she shot past Pinkie with another gathering wad of magic.

“Are you seeing this? This is nuts!” Pinkamena commentated, levitating as if she were leaned back in a chair. “Discord is proving to be the real MVP.”

As if on cue, the draconequus' cannon went off. There was a thud from two things colliding before Pinkamena’s eyes widened.

“Duck,” she barked.

“Goos—" Pinkie was cut off as a deflected cannonball smashed into the rock beside her head. The vines snapped and she was immediately dropped a little lower.

The shockwave caused her hold to weaken. She held firm, nose scrunched, and eyes tightly sealed shut while waiting it out. She could feel a thick dust cloud swallow her. It burned her nose, and her lungs gasped, causing whooping coughs when she tried to seek fresh air.

“Why didn't you just wait under a table until the shockwave was over? You're going to fall," Pinkamena asked.

Pinkie fanned her face, “ugrgh…so much dust. I have to help, Pinkamena! I can use my Pinkie Senses to get out of this...I don't have a choice! If there's a twitchy-twitch it means—"

Her tail twitched. She looked up, and her senses were correct.

A large gargoyle had been knocked from its pedestal. Its rugged head was tumbling right down toward her, causing the wind to howl around it! She looked around quickly. There were no vines to cling onto and no rocks close enough to change positions. She was trapped and the shadow was growing larger by the second.

"Jump!" Pinkamena suggested, "there are bushes below you. It broke a pony's fall not too long ago. Aim for them!"

Pinkie pushed herself off of the wall immediately. She didn’t know why Pinkamena’s urgent tone made her listen, but it did.

She was airborne, and while falling, the gargoyle had scraped a gash in the side of the tower. In its wake, it left a path of sparks that had created scorch marks. If she hadn't listened to The Mare in the Mirror, she would have been flattened on the ground below. Pinkie Pie’s back hit the bushes, while the statue slammed on the grass in front of her—splitting in two.

The gardens were overtaken by noxious fumes. Pinkie had to plug her nose by slapping a hoof over her muzzle. The sharpness of the smoke coaxed tears from her eyes and it washed some of the ash shelved on her cheeks. Spitting out some leaves in her mouth, she poked her head above the bushes.

Shaking his head like a mad dog, he had Ember's wing caught in his jaws. She was flung around like a battered chew toy. Sharply flicking his head to his side, she was released and tossed into a tree trunk.

He roared, moving forward and flattening fences with his weight.

Ember rolled onto her shoulder, and his stomach slithered past her, missing her completely. She had taken refuge behind a boulder and peeked out with a cautious gaze. Smoke snaked from the wyrm’s nostrils while he eyed the nimble Wonderbolt buzzing around him. She was using her speed and flight as a distraction to deter attention away from the Dragonlord.

Unfortunately, she was as big as a rabbit to him, and her kicks and punches went mostly unnoticed.

While Dash acted like a fly swarming the wyrm's ears, it followed her through the air before being led to rest its gaze on Pinkie.

The two stared at each other.

His lip twitched. Pinkie squeezed her thighs together to keep from wetting herself.

Pinkamena casually sauntered from behind her and sat on the grass, "if you stand completely still, he probably can't see you. Lizards detect movement with that weird flicking tongue thing—I’m pretty sure. Well, about eighty percent positive. Either that or they detect thermal heat or something.”

Worming out of his closed jaws, a slimy tongue fluttered in Pinkie’s direction.

“Ha, so they can do that! Who knew? Go me for remembering herpetology! But that means two things—” Pinkamena stopped for a moment so that she could approach Pinkie further, “—he can smell you and he sees you. What's your top running speed? For scientific purposes, of course."

“H-H…help me,” Pinkie said with a painfully high-pitched beg.

“Oh, so now you want my help?

His mouth parted, teeth partially visible from behind his lips. He moved forward, and Pinkie tried to tug her legs away, but they wouldn't move. She was caught like a deer in headlights and frozen from the waist down.

Tipped over tables crunched and burst in a firework of splinters when he slithered over them. Anything in his path was crushed like an egg. Pinkie couldn’t begin to guess what her bones would do under that weight.

A blue smudge in the sky voiced concern, “is that Pinkie down there? He’s going to flatten her!”

“Mmmgh,” Pinkie wheezed, paralyzed from doing anything but watch the beast crawl toward her with a gaping maw.

Rainbow Dash did a back swoop, putting her hooves forward while tightening her wings against her sides to gain speed.

The wyrm noticed, and when Dash tried to cut his path, he headbutted her. Knocked out of balance, she spiraled out of control. She landed head-first into a boulder and plopped onto the grass, unmoving.

He did not stop. Outstretching his jaws with the intent to swallow her whole, the ground bounced and shook with his approach. When he was meters away, the beast turned his head and crashed his teeth into the dirt.

Pinkie’s vision went dark. All she could see were the ridges from inside his mouth. Her rump was scooped up into his maw. Dirt and grass enveloped them both while she felt the prison-like jaws snap close.

There were muffled screams and cries. Her hooves stuck out instinctively and pressed up against his gums to barricade herself. Pinkie could feel the damp and sticky floor beneath her writhe like a beheaded snake.

“Ewwww, ewwwww!” She wailed, lifting her forelimb to reveal a coat of saliva dripping down it. “Pleeeeease don’t swallow me!”

Pinkamena appeared leaning against a canine as big as a pillar, “look on the bright side.”

Pinkie’s lip was quivering, “what bright side?’

“You could have died by drowning in elephant diarrhea.”

There was bitter silence initiated by Pinkie. She couldn't believe this mare! She didn't have time to entertain Pinkamena's comment because it appeared the wyrm had, abruptly, taken his meal to go. He lurched forward, and it caused Pinkie to sprawl backward and bump her head on his front teeth.

He was digging. The sudden drop in temperature gave it away.

Suddenly, moonlight was welcomed into her toothy cave. He had spat her out onto a hard mound of dirt. Her body plopped onto the ground with a moan and a wet slap. The first thing she noticed was that the castle was nowhere in sight. She was surrounded by trees. Not a soul joined her in the grove.

Shakily bringing a head up, her muzzle met that of the wyrm’s.

His eyes were otherworldly. A curious heat radiated from them. They had an ominous glow and a waxy shine that reflected Pinkie’s own stare.

“Jmour iw chea tugo—” he stopped, tipping his head and poking Pinkie’s ribs with the tip of his nose. “—fekxj fekht hto pijhoninv?”

"I-I'm sorry I don't know what you're saying! I have a friend…S-Spike, y-yeah, he knows how to speak to drakes. Why don't we just relax here, play a little game of I-Spy, and get to know each other until Twilight finds us? S-Sound fair?"

He blinked. She didn’t think he understood anything she just said.

“Okay, I’ll start…I spy with my little eye—” she hastily looked around before squinting at something in the sky. “—Celestia?”

The wyrm looked confused.

There was a sound as if the sky itself had split. A combined twirling spear of magic spiraled toward the behemoth. It impaled him with such force his scales shattered and fell like rain upon the grass. He mewled, falling heavily onto his side with an agonized groan.

Two alicorn silhouettes blocked the moon. Their faces were hardened, horns expelling a bit of smoke, while their sturdy wings kept them in the air.

Like a unit from a disciplined cavalry, they worked as one. Luna took to the ground, volleying spikes of magic taking a physical form. Celestia casted a spell that looked more like a swamping wave of light.

This overwhelmed the wyrm. He shied away from the prickling barbs Luna used to back him into a corner. He was then pushed into the side of a rocky hill by the sun Alicorn’s ribbons of luminescence.

His spines broke the stone behind him. He couldn’t fight against it as if he were swimming against a current.

Princess Luna slammed her hooves into the dirt, securing her stance with a twist, before discharging advanced arcane magic. It was so powerful, it caused the wyrm to collapse out of exhaustion on the spot.

He fell forward, stomach still glowing from the attack, before crashing on his jaw.

A fang popped out of his gums and bounced on the grass. With a slice, it landed tip first into the dirt at Luna’s hooves.

His breathing was labored while Celestia landed. Her wings neatly tucked themselves away while she tentatively approached.

“Zkuinfujtox jpugo—”

Celestia interrupted him, “—don’t you dare utter those words. They are forbidden, you are forbidden!”

His lip peeled, revealing gnashed teeth behind them. Pinkie swallowed thickly. It didn't appear he was ready to admit defeat.

“You forget your place, old foe.” Luna reminded, “your master perished eons ago, and to provoke a war that was laid to rest is quite foolish. It will only result in your own demise.”

“Why now?” Celestia mused, “two thousand years of silence. Why do you emerge? Why now out of all those years? Unless—”

She looked deep into his eye. His loathing bled out from his expression with such a thickness, the tension could be cut with a butter knife. Pinkie could see Celestia's back bristle, her feathers ruffled, and a bit of perspiration dribble down her neck. The princess was afraid, terrified, and it left a sour taste in the air.

Nothing ever shook Celestia, but records were meant to be broken.

“—She can’t be alive,” the alicorn whispered feebly.

Without warning, the wyrm retreated into the ground faster than the princesses could counter. Gone.

When the earth had settled, the group still remained shaken.

Celestia immediately went to drape Pinkie in a secured wing. The two didn't speak. Words were unnecessary. While she listened to the hammering drum in the alicorn's chest, her eyes wandered to a mare in the shadows.

Pinkamena's frame was tense and her eyes had drastically darkened. Following her line of sight, she found it lingering with hostility on one pony, and one alone.

Celestia.

Chapter Three

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter Four

Pinkie stared into the dim firelight. A small blaze twisted and danced within the grasping pull of the wind. She leaned into it, gently blowing to coax them to grow, but her breath hardly budged them. Her sigh did little to express her disappointment. She then hugged the side of her body to the wall in an attempt to hide from the breeze.

The trees groaned and lashed their branches at the sky. The seeking wind pushed forward, making the embers flicker once again. The shadows spasmed on the wall while the fire weakened and fizzled out beneath the teepee of sticks.

Shaggy moss covered the entrance of her hideout. The only other source of light she had was provided by the stars poking through the overhang of the willow trees. During the time she had spent there, crouched under a crack in the hillside, she had built a nest of forest debris.

The leftover sticks that were not rubbed thin were carefully placed within a bed of stripped fiber from cattails. Leaves that were harvested from the ground were fed to the flames to keep the campfire thriving, but the wind was persistent.

It blew once more, combing through Pinkie’s fur and causing her to shiver. She curled herself tighter to seek warmth before puffing a breath into her hooves.

Her stomach gurgled and her tongue ached. She desperately wanted to slake both urges. Whether it be the leaves or the sticks, both were appetizing on an empty stomach.

She placed a hoof on her abdomen. There were gurgles and squeals from where it rested, but her stomach's calls were ignored. She had eaten some of the vegetation, shamelessly, a pony had to eat after all. It just wasn't agreeing with her.

The warmth was fading out. Even though it absorbed well in the small room she was nestled in, without the source, the wind would drown it. Her hooves ached from the first attempt at making a fire. Within her hoof, rocks and dirt were smushed within the smallest crevices—thanks to her recent adventures. It was soiled with nature's grime. Now, these little bundles of joy had a new neighbor who happened to be a family of throbbing splinters.

She slowly sat up from her temporary bed and peeled herself away from the wall. One barren stick and a log were left beside the barrier of rocks built around the campfire. She scooped the first up, then the second, before angling it within the charred hole. The slab was frail and burnt from her last attempts, but it appeared to have some juice for another go.

She rolled her hooves up and down the angled stick, while she melted into her thoughts.

She thought about her sisters, the wyrm, and her friends.

The sharp smell of smoke alerted her to a glowing ember, but her eyes never wandered downward. Why would her sisters lie about such a strange thing? Especially, Maud. Did Pinkie happen to do something wrong to lose their trust?

Her speed increased and the haze grew denser.

It wasn't like Pinkie would ever mean to push them away. A family wouldn’t ever lie to each other, especially about giant wyrms that could destroy Canterlot! Limestone was evasive about it, Marble avoided confrontation, and Maud straight up lied to her face!

The smoke’s odor was becoming rancid, yet still, Pinkie kept rubbing.

"...If Maud lied, why didn't her pants light on fire? That would have been a dead giveaway...but then again, Maud doesn't wear pants. If she did, oh-ho-ho Pinkie Responsibility Diane Pie would've known, I take lies veeeeery seriously. Fool me once shame on you because it was the only day you lied without pants!”

A shadow uncurled from her position on the dirt. Pinkie paid her no mind and continued to grumble without addressing the wisps of smoke batting at her nose and eyes.

“....Pinkie—”

It was as if her words were never said. Pinkie's gaze lingered far from where she was staring. Her mind was in a different world.

“—There is supposed to be fire when somepony lies. It’s science! Somepony is getting pants for their birthday. I'm not gonna allow another oopsie-daisy like this to happen no-sirree!”

Pinkmena leaned forward and the light glistened in her cherry eyes. Her head was angled downward, brows narrowed, before flicking back up to rest on Pinkie’s face.

“Pinkie…you’re on fire.”

"Alright, you got me. I'm not totally serious about pants for Maud's birthday, bleh, but if this keeps up, she is so totally disqualified from the PSSSD this year! I'll borrow Applejack this time, 'cause at least she'll stand by being honest! I also heard she's a good back up for the Sister Hooves—"

"—Pinkie, I know you're scatterbrained, but you're on fire. Literal fire."

“Hmm?” She responded, climbing back down to reality for mere moments. Her nose tinged with a grimace. “Sheesh, somepony overcooked the chimichangas. Something smells burnt.”

Pinkie felt heat near her cheek as it slowly absorbed into her shoulder. Her mane was covered in hot ribbons of light which had bred a small trail of flames. They had jumped from the inferno within the log before infecting the dry rat's nest upon her head.

“Oh, well, would you look at that,” Pinkie said in an awkward chuckle. “I happen to be on fire.”

The flames intensified and she squealed. She then tried to snuff out the embers with quick bursts of her breath.

"Don't blow on the fire. It makes it grow—oh, just forget it." Pinkamena dismissed, rolling over onto her left shoulder. "It's not like anyone listens to me anyway."

She, unfortunately, had heard the warning after she had blown all the air from her lungs. Her lips sputtered and her eyes shriveled once she realized the flames weren't shrinking. They were growing. Oh, how silly of her to forget.

Oxygen made flames grow.

Pinkie's screech cut through the night like a braying foghorn. A tail of smoke followed her as she dropped and rolled into the dirt. She rubbed her back within it vigorously. Her hooves were bent, perked, and out of harm's way while she mimicked that of a mutt's itch on the grass. Pinkamena observed Pinkie's entertaining circus show. Her lips were neutral, however, neither upturned nor frowned as if she were trying to conceal her amusement.

"Ooo, Ooo! This isn't fun. Okay it's really starting to burn!"

Pinkamena crossed her forelimbs with a wry smile. "Yes, fire is known to do that. Or so I've heard."

Well, thanks, Pinkamena. Very helpful. Her eyesight was contorted due to the mane of flames around her face. Her fur was like gasoline to the embers. Her entire head looked like a swollen lightbulb that shooed away the darkness.

Maybe her observing friend could lend her a hoof instead of being so mellow. It wasn't like being on fire was anything important or of that nature. She didn't seem concerned about it, but to be fair, she hardly ever bothered with Pinkie's shenanigans—they just annoyed her. Her opinions of Pinkamena were, however, placed on the back burner. Maybe if she looked somewhat pitiful, she’d help. Probably not, but it was worth a shot. Pinkie didn't have much confidence in Pinkamena's snarky bank of advice, but as of now, her tactic of rolling in the dirt wasn't fairing any better.

Pinkie gave a pleading whimper and pawed at the air.

"Pinkie, I don't know what you want me to do."

She swatted again, sagging her bottom lip. Pinkamena's quick dismissiveness was almost automatic and instinctual. Her head had already turned away from the scene. Pinkie caught her saucy eye-roll, though. The firelight produced by her mane revealed the mare's crimson eyes looking back at her. She wasn't entirely shutting her down, yet.

The Element of Laughter gave her a timid grin.

"Go jump in a lake," The illusion responded. Pinkie's forehead creased and her grin bent into an exasperated frown.

"That's rude, I don't tell you to go jump in a lake when you're on fire!"

"What? I've never been on—Pinkie, I'm telling you how to get rid of it! Go to the small pond, or lake, whatever it is. Okay?"

Pinkamena extended her hoof outward and gestured to the shallow pond. A barrier of reeds and cattails neighbored the lapping water. She had collected quite a few earlier to make a fire but hardly put a dent in the population.

They created a protective ring around the bank. Thankfully, it wasn't much of a chore to tear them down to get into the cool watery relief below. Pinkie didn’t hesitate in waddling through the grass when reminding herself about a fire’s natural enemy. She cleaved her way past the vegetation and her follower didn't stray far. Well, at least not with her eyes, she didn’t appear too excited to climb into the swamp.

Pinkie stumbled and suddenly barreled headfirst into the mud. Pinkie's face slapped right onto the surface of the goop with a wet plop. She murmured with gritted teeth before pulling herself from the suction that hugged her figure. Mud dribbled from her chin and mane, but the fire had somehow survived even though her cleanliness didn't. She stood once more, but her stance was interrupted by the slippery bank by the pond's edge. She was unable to pull free and she flailed into the water with spasming limbs. Even underwater she could hear Pinkamena cackling. She had a great view of the show.

She broke the surface and gulped whatever air she could nab! The water wasn’t refreshing, warm, or even lukewarm. It was freezing to the point where Pinkie regretted the fire's warmth.

"This is just a horrible-terrible-no-good-very-bad day!" Pinkie piped, the teeth in her mouth grinding from the cold. "I-I—"

Tears pricked her eyes. The gleaming pearls stationed on her cheeks slowly rolled down in clumps. She reached out for the hanging roots by the water's edge to anchor herself. This night was one of the worst nights she's ever had by far. She was cold, wet, hungry, and confused. Maud and her sisters had lied to her, her friends had disowned her, and now Pinkamena was mocking her.

"I...I can't take this anymore."

Her voice was withered. Pinkie's hoof continued to linger on the waterlogged dirt mound so that she wouldn't drift away. She tried to stitch herself together, desperately. She sniveled and the laughter cut off like an unplugged radio. Just, silence, all of a sudden. The dejected pony threw her elbow over the bank before dragging herself up and out of the water. She then flopped upon the grass, which had been slathered in collected mud. Pinkamena was dead silent. Pinkie was too exhausted to even glance in her direction to see why. The cold nipped at her dampened skin, she was out of breath, and her body was sore. She grimaced at these new and combined sensations before clamping her forelimbs to her sides to preserve her remaining body heat.

Why did Pinkamena always feel the need to mock her? Did she do something to be under constant fire? She rolled the memories back and forth in her mind. Her goal was to thumb through the years as if they had occurred yesterday, to investigate and understand. The glass and the chains, as well as her nickname: 'the shunned mare in the mirror,' all had some kind of connection. Her anger was unfocused and she lashed out far too often for there not to be a reason.

Then it clicked. Pinkie was the reason.

Wasn't she?

She was the reason she was caged, hated, and labeled a burden. Under all the thorns she had poised to defend herself, Pinkamena was truly caring. If her illusion was here to cause nothing but trouble as everypony had said, why did she make such an effort to help her?

“...Everything I’ve been thinking, it’s wrong.”

She didn't need to get rid of Pinkamena. She needed to make peace. There was no reason to fight or to belittle her anymore. Fluttershy had always said she needed to get rid of her problems but perhaps Pinkie needed to befriend her. They say to rise above your inner demons but what about coexisting with them?

She could see Pinkamena's lips slightly part but no words followed. For so long there had been a hardness in her companion's eyes. Ever so slowly, their adventure had chipped away at it. Perhaps there was a lesson in all of this? Maybe she shouldn't have fled from her. Why was she acting as if Pinkamena was a curse?

By turning her back on Pinkamena her illusion dearly resented her. Even though she was convinced this mare was a terror over and over, it served no purpose. She was here to stay. It was clear that she couldn't be trumped by medicine, dissolved by brownies, or even corrected by therapy. Sure, many ponies had different opinions of her, but the only one who truly knew her was Pinkie. The way she went about things was surely debatable, but Pinkamena did help from time to time. No, she wasn't evil, and because of all the frustration Pinkie felt toward her, she had ignored all the good things she has done.

Of course the mare in the mirror didn’t trust her. Pinkie had been trying to shake her since she was born. They didn't always have such malice toward each other. During her childhood, she could pick out a few fond memories they shared together. They gawked at the mines, making faces in the crystals, while Pinkamena helped her get over her fear of the dark.

No pony would feel inclined to connect with her if she had always treated them like a criminal. In fact, the iciness Pinkamena had toward her was because she had induced it. She had encouraged these ponies to beat her down, to tell her how much of a monster she was—until she just stopped putting up with it and pushed back. Why would Pinkie be surprised that she pushed back after all the things she has done?

Pinkie wasn't as observant as others, but when Pinkamena’s hooves clicked on the stone when bouncing down to the ground level, there was noise. You couldn't have missed it. In fact, she remembered her mane whisking in the wind a little as well. Maybe her memory was distorted, maybe, but there was no denying that sound.

There was no doubt Pinkamena helped save her life, even if those rocks were a miracle, her encouragement gave Pinkie hope.

Pinkie didn't know how she'd pull this off, but everything the doctors had said officially was flushed down the drain. She was going to do things a different way, her way.

Pinkie's breaths were ragged and they pushed clouds of mist into the air. The curled tip of her mane had fallen limp upon her nose, dribbling water onto her chest. She knew the cave uphill would be warmer, yet she couldn’t find the will to move.

“Pinkie, you’re going to freeze. You need a source of heat to stabilize—”

“It’s too cold to mooove.” Pinkie whined, volleying her response, “—the wind hurts, I’m bad at rubbing sticks, and I’m contemplating my life choices. This grass isn’t so bad, a little scratchy, but it’ll do.”

“For the love of—ugh!" Her voice echoed but eventually fell out of range.

The irritating tip of her mane plopped a large drop onto her collarbone. She then clamped her hoof around it. Wringing the strand free of water, she flicked her forelimbs to her sides, before brushing it back into its proper place. The silence was bitter and her testy follower's voice had fallen quiet. Pinkie rolled onto her right side before weeding her gaze past the reed stalks and into the cave. Pinkamena had vanished.

Her lips fell, her neutral expression now crooked from a frown. Nothing remained of Pinkamena’s presence, not even the usual feeling of foreboding she brought.

Pinkie didn't think Pinkamena was a lousy pony. She just wished the fighting was somewhat lessened over the time they spent together. The mare in the mirror did save her from the Timberwolves even when subtracting the weird event that occurred. Without her encouragement, she would have never found the courage to get up. The mare was obviously a lot softer after what they had been through, and maybe, just maybe, Pinkie could coax her armor to break a little more.

After all, in these moments, they only had each other.

A glint of light shimmered in the distance. The gathering source of warmth washed over the shadows to invade the darkness. It hitched Pinkie’s attention and jerked it toward the flames.

Within the abandoned bed of flaked ash, her campfire was alight with fresh embers. Now that the cave had been illuminated, Pinkamena was visible behind the inviting veil of warmth. Their eyes met, Pinkie's eyebrows knit in suspicion, whereas hers just held a twinkling luster.

“That’s—”

Pinkie was stopped before she could investigate further.

"There were some embers still emerging from your last attempt, Ponk. The sticks you were rubbing ignited here too. A fire has to be nurtured a bit before it grows. You didn't do so bad, see?"

She gestured to the healthy flames. Pinkamena then once more tethered their gazes. Pinkie’s face remained solemn, she wasn't buying it in the slightest.

“Just get in here! Seriously, you are acting as if you want to freeze. You can’t be cold and wet. It's just a free invitation for hypothermia!”

Pinkamena was rankled by the prying eyes beaming through the shadows. Her expression was taut and without a doubt scolding her stupidity.

“I dunno, everypony loves a free invitation—”

“Get in here!” The mare shouted, her temper thinning to that of a hair-trigger.

Pinkie had untangled herself from the grass in an instant in fear of being chastised. She avoided the furrowed brows aimed in her direction and sulked toward her. She didn't want to look at the ridged cords snaking up Pinkamena's neck in anger. She wasn't one to have a temper. She was more mischievous and snarky but Pinkie wouldn't jump to call her the choleric type. She had a coy and jesting temperament but could get a little frightening when angered.

The winds were definitely biting and she couldn't help but let her teeth clatter again.

Once her shadow had morphed with that of the firelight, Pinkamena's presence only lingered a few meters. Her eyes were drawn to the ground to once more dodge that expression.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Pinkie's eyes darted upward to study her reaction. She was relieved to see the strain in her eyes had softened. The leer had morphed into one of gentleness, and even though Pinkamena masked her emotions well, she had obviously panicked.

With a voice one might use on a skittish foal, Pinkamena addressed her. "Pinkie, this world isn't easy on ponies like you. You were nearly mauled by Timberwolves a few hours ago, you lit yourself on fire, and then allowed your temperature to drop to dangerous levels. Stop being so careless one day it might cost you your life."

She felt a little ashamed at how easily she had given up tonight. The Timberwolves were one thing, but easily succumbing to her thoughts wasn't like her. She liked to call herself optimistic but she didn't deserve that ribbon tonight.

She felt herself flash what appeared to be a half-baked grin at her hallucination.

The mare’s nostrils flared from breathing out a sigh, draining the tension from her eyes. “I know you’re having a bad night, but you have to listen to me…at least just once.”

Pinkamena took a lazy stride to the far end of the wall before nuzzling her stomach into the dirt. Once she had found a suitable position, she outstretched her legs with a glance that directed Pinkie back to her temporary bedding.

“—I also wasn't worried. Now sit. Get warm.”

Pinkie flopped onto her heap of weeds, scattering orbs of pollen. She wiggled around for a bit. When she found a spot, she settled, with her chin on the ground and nose pointed toward the fire.

Her gaze wandered back to her familiar, her curiosity clearly not satisfied, "Mena, what pushed those rocks?"

“They fell, now go to sleep.” She grunted with her eyes lightly pressed closed.

"Nu-uh, I've lived on a quarry for a pretty long time. My knowledge on things like this are pretty rock-solid. Landslides like that don't just happen during the dry season and they definitely don't crack like that before they fall. Kinda suspicious, don't ya think?"

There was a nettled grumble before Pinkamena flipped onto her other side to cut off communication. It was unsuccessful.

“Also, you as you said, fire takes a while to grow, right? How did it grow when it wasn't even lit in the first place? I threw my tools waaaaay over there, and now they are waaaaay over here…near the fire, where I didn't leave them. Strange, could-of sworn I've always had a photographic memory to where small details like that don't get forgotten."

“Pinkie it’s four-something in the morning, I beg of you, please go to sleep I’m exhausted!”

Her face scrunched. “Okie-Dokie-Lokie,” she dragged, her tone low and questioning. “—But don’t think I’ll forget about this in the morning. I've got a mind like a steel trap. Nothing escapes me except for when my train of thought derails!”

Her words made Pinkamena flinch. This tension deflated, however, and her spine curled inward so she could tuck into the wall. She didn't snap back and held her tongue awfully well. Perhaps her fatigue was the culprit. It didn't change the fact that Pinkamena still reeked of suspicion and Pinkie's patience was fleeting.

She was going to leave it alone. That is until something else gave Pinkie fuel for more idle chatter.

“Pinkamena.”

“Whahahatt!” She whined, rubbing her face with both hooves, “what could you possibly need?!”

“I think the sky told a lie…” Pinkie murmured, with eyes following something engorged with mystical light in the sky. “—It’s on fire.”

“What is with you and the whole fire thing? The sky isn’t on fire, ponies don’t combust when they lie, and neither do inanimate objects! Now can we drop it?”

Pinkie's bottom jaw was lax and her eyes never veered from above.

She just slowly lifted a hoof to guide Pinkamena’s line of sight.

She followed, and soon both their gazes were glued.

The sky was definitely on fire.

Streaks of vibrant light were brushed lazily across the sky. A tail of smoke followed behind an object that had been swallowed by a cocoon of energy. A mass of tangerine tinged with a bit of rose illuminated the sky. It sucked and grasped the branches and leaves of trees. They whipped and quavered from the sky's sudden pull as it crawled its way through the darkness.

Pinkamena’s mouth was slacked. They both didn’t seem to have the slightest clue as to what it could possibly be. It wasn't like anything Pinkie had ever seen, that’s for sure.

The rustling of the forest trying to resist the airborne object was loud, but didn't have the faintest chance at winning the volume war with what was above. It was crackling as if the sky was falling in chunks, preparing to sink into the earth below. The very planet was trembling and it shivered under Pinkie's hooves.

As soon as it came, the sky had shockingly dimmed just as fast. The colors vanished instantly and were overtaken by the starry sky within moments. The trees had slowed, returning to their usual sway in the wind, while the croaks of nearby bullfrogs once more called as if they were never disturbed.

“What...was…that?” Pinkie managed to spit out, turning to her companion who had not taken her eyes from that particular spot. “I think it was—”

She was immediately muted by Pinkamena’s ashen face.

"Are you alright?" Pinkie asked in a whisper, approaching tentatively, hoping to calm her throbbing eyes. "It's not going to hurt us, Twilight talks about space rocks coming down all the time! Trust me, if it were a dangerous rock, I'd know."

She didn't move, and her body still appeared shackled to the ground. "That—" Her voice was addled, then her breath whistled as if her lungs struggled to function. "That was no space rock.”

A figure blundered up a slanted pathway. The creature's hand gently helped him balance his weight while desperately avoiding tripping over the obstacles below. He was clumsy and reckless, nearly tearing down stalagmites when using them as a railway.

“....Blasted cave, Equestria has too many of them. Go Tirek, I told myself, go see this magical disturbance and take what’s yours…I said. If I drag myself all the way there and it happens to be that dull-witted draconequus, I’ll wring his neck!”

Tirek coughed into the balled fist of his hand before once more weaving through the labyrinth. The light was scarce inside the tunnel and only poked through shards of crystals hanging like bats from the cave's roof. His hooves were crusted with mud and gunk while his herculean arms were slashed and blotched with tender bruises.

"Although it's faint, it's growing. Over three days, the power has flooded my senses, it's incredibly powerful. Once I steal it from whatever imbecile is wielding it, Equestria will rue the day it opposed the mighty Tirek! Yes…yes that’s what I’ll do—“

There was a meaty smack, and Tirek's nose ring almost made an imprint in the stone he had rammed into. He stumbled, and his weight caused small pebbles to fall from above and tap on his horns.

His jaw clenched and his glare was fit to be tied. He scuffed one hoof on the ground, lowered his head, and aimed his horns at the blockage.

“HUAH!”

The centaur's war cry echoed along the walls and multiplied. His head acted as a battering ram and smashed the large rock into smithereens. The curved horns gouged the stone like a searing sword through butter. He brought a fist to his lips once more and he hacked the clouds of dust from his lungs.

He then resumed his muttering once the debris had cleared.

“Rocks are tearing up my arms, there was an earthquake…I can’t catch a break.”

“—Mmm, but this cave is so small, and you seem so…athletically inclined. Surly a small little cavern such as this isn't making you lose your temper, Tirek. Why don't you just ram through it? It seems fitting for someone of your weight and stature."

Tirek’s horns had formed a writhing ball of magic before the voice was even done talking.

He turned to view nothing behind him, but he sensed an unwanted shadow. "I don't like fleas. Show yourself, and I may allow you to live."

"I see life has made you bitter. Try and be a little more optimistic. It's good for the skin," The voice teased. He kept his blindspots open while rotating in a slow circle. In front of him, something clumped together in a hypnotic array of unmatched colors. Two transparent eyes slipped out from a pocket of nowhere before the voice said, "Peek-A-Boo!"

The startled centaur shrieked with such volume it caused the crystals above to swing! The eyes squinted before the transparent shade faded into a visible figure draped across a bed of risen rocks. The draconequus had an impish grin and her chin within her palm. Her left arm was hanging loosely over the throne of stone she rested upon, with her tail crimped in an odd position beside her.

She cheesed, baring her inch long canines in a taunting smile. "You scream like a mare, and it's quite humorous.”

Tirek’s palm rested on his heart, his lips in a ring, as he released a sigh of relief. “Cosmos, I thought you were Discord! No one’s seen you in eons, I thought the other idiotic Spirit of Chaos abandoned you to rot somewhere.”

Cosmos had her hand in a bag of popcorn. She speared a claw into one of the popped kernels before bringing it up to her lips.

She stopped with her tongue halfway hanging from her mouth. “Excuse me, have some faith in my ability to outsmart my greatest rival. It may have taken two millennia, but I'm here. I'm not late, everyone else is simply early and Old Faithful Tirek is going to help me out."

"Early for what exactly? I have no time to entertain you and I have my own headache to deal with. Lord Tirek assists no one! Get lost!"

Cosmos responded by tossing the bag into the air which disappeared in a puff of glitter. She then leaned forward onto her interlaced claws. "Mmm, yeah. Talking in a third-person narrative makes you feel special, doesn't it? Adorable."

He swatted his hand in her direction as if he were flicking away a fly. There was an irritated grunt of dismissal before he continued his way through the cave. Cosmos didn't let up, however, and hovered like a windblown ribbon. Her long body slithered through the air for quite some time until there was enough room to be at ear's length with Tirek.

"Hey, big guy, slow down for a sec. We've gotta talk about something," Cosmos said with a light tap on Tirek's shoulder. He replied by shrugging it off, "okay, rude, but I'll let it pass. I know you saw that thing in the sky, and you obviously know what it was, don't you."

“Of course I know what it is, you imbecile!” He berated, tucking his head under a hanging shelf of rocks. “It was a falling sun!”

The Spirit of Chaos blinked. "Uh, no…that's…that's very wrong. You thought it was the sun? If it were the sun, you probably shouldn't be so carefree about it, no matter, thankfully that isn’t what you thought it was. Didn’t you feel the magic power when it was coming down?”

“No, and I don’t care to. Now leave me alone, I’m busy!”

“Oh, I will once I’m done with my errand. Trust me, you don’t have the enticing personality to bewitch ladies such as myself.”

Tirek expressed his disgust with an eye-roll.

"I require your services. It's a quest of utmost importance. I need you to track someone for me." Cosmos commanded, squeezing within the tight space Tirek had lumbered into. "You have a nose for magic like a bloodhound and I need you to find her. Now get. Get a move on, chop, chop. Mush!"

"No, I will not. You happened to track me and you can easily do the same for this ‘friend’ of yours. I feel sorry for them already.”

The villain had nuzzled his way into an opening where he decided to stretch his limbs. His spine popped, a sigh hissing from his lips before he relaxed.

“I can’t track magic like you can, she’s hidden. Like, I can’t really put it into words exactly. I know she’s here, but she’s not here at the same time. It’s almost as if she’s concealed within something. A vessel.”

“Not my problem! If you weren’t such a pest, I would have splattered what’s left of you all over the walls by now! You blasted things are unkillable.”

"Normally, I can find anything. I'm stumped, no wonder she was so good at those childhood hiding games. Well, when she closed those gleaming eyes. Where is her clever little bunker?" Cosmos pondered, fingering a claw through the scruff on her cheek. "Could she perhaps—wait a minute, if you weren’t tracking the thing in the sky, what magical presence were you following?”

Tirek had a slimy grin. “If I were to guess, probably this ‘friend’ of yours. I was wondering how long it would take before you noticed, pathetic really. I told you I was busy.”

"....Why I never! Keep acting like that, and I'm not inviting you to the League of Villains!"

Pinkie's eyelids were brushed with the light of the sun. The roaring fire had done a decent job at blocking the breeze of the morning chill. The flames had provided an extra blanket of warmth and she was thankful for it. It wasn't exactly the coziest night of her life, but not the coldest. Her senses slowly awakened one by one with her hearing being the first out of her slumber.

“...𝕮𝖍𝖊𝖆 𝖙𝖚𝖌𝖔 𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖍 𝖍𝖊 𝖖𝖚𝖚𝖗𝖔 𝖚 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖌𝖔…”

Both her eyes and muzzle crinkled. That voice…it wasn't one she recognized. The monotone was thickened and didn't inflect at all. It was scratchy and low, nearly clamorous like a sequence of jittering chains. It was talking to someone, even though Pinkie didn't understand its words, she could clearly tell it was attempting to be discreet.

"I know I don't have much time and it still doesn't change my mind. Your suggestions are barbaric, we are done talking about this. Do you understand?"

That voice she recognized.

Pinkamena's tone sounded as if she were forcing her words to hiss through clenched teeth. She kept her position motionless, and her eyes squeezed closed. Sure, Pinkie would never encourage eavesdropping, except for today, when literally nothing made sense anymore.

“𝕮𝖍𝖊𝖆 𝖋𝖎𝖕𝖕 𝖝𝖎𝖔 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖗𝖚𝖖𝖚𝖔𝖓𝖚.”

The temptation was overpowering. Pinkie cracked open an eye, wincing once the light absorbed within it. Pinkamena was tucked within a curtain of shadows that had not revealed her body inside the sunlight. Her eyes were focused on something, but that something happened to be transparent. Her gaze followed nothing, yet, her brows were tweezed and furrowed as if she were leering at a childhood bully she detested.

“Get lost. My answer is no.”

She shouldn’t be doing this. Pinkamena was oblivious to the extra set of ears hanging onto her every word. This was spying…wasn't it? No, no, Pinkie could spy on her own imagination, right? That sounded perfectly acceptable. If the voice was in her head anyway, she couldn’t ignore it even if she tried. Yet, something about that voice didn’t appear earthly.

Pinkie had never heard a second voice in her head before.

There was silence. Nothing stirred, and it was the sudden halt in noise that made Pinkie realize she had one bulging eye cropped on Pinkamena. Her companion had simply crossed her forelimbs and appeared to be in a gamesome mood. She was now relaxed and puckish. Even though she seemed to be playful, no pony would need a gift of empathy to see she was weighed down by something.

“I see you’ve slept soundly.” She began, her tone a bit softer than usual. “We need to start moving. Do you know where you want to go?”

Pinkie brushed her hoof through the dirt. She scattered some of the loose material while evading Pinkamena’s eyes.

“I—uh, well, I kinda had a pep-talk with myself. I came to a decision—" She rolled out her hoof while making a full circle with her eyes. "—Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to stay out here.”

“Pinkie, you can’t just keep running to escape your problems!" Her tongue was sharp, and her face crinkled sternly as if her suggestion somewhat irritated her. For some reason, the creases around her eyes and frown quickly relaxed. She balanced her ice with sudden warmth. "...I should know."

Her head turned, gaze hidden behind a curtain of ragged bangs. Pinkie could see her throat tighten as if she had swallowed the words she wanted to say. While she took a moment to shield both her face and expression, Pinkie caught sight of her condition. Her entire appearance looked untidy, stressed out, and bleary-eyed.

Pinkamena had a thin layer of sweat around her neck and muzzle and her breathing was labored. She… appeared to be scared?

Her hooves were quivering from under her shadow and Pinkie could almost see her unraveling at the seams.

"...Well, I wanted to stay out here because you're the only one who accepts me." Pinkie admitted, causing her acquaintance to loosen, but not turn her head. "If I go back, they will keep telling me you're not real. They will try to fix me, and maybe—”

“I’m not real. I’ll never be real.” Pinkamena spat, her eyes glowering at a spot that held nothing to stare at. “The sooner you drop it—”

"—I'm not gonna just drop it! Listen, even if you are some mysterious entity that I can't really understand, maybe I don't need to. This whole time everyone kept saying how you were up to no good, a big 'ol rotting banana, but I don't think that's true." Her hooves felt heavy and she felt a little fearful admitting something Pinkamena could use against her. Miraculously she found the strength to walk forward. "—For so long, I've mistreated you. I've been a real Stink Pie, Mena."

When their shadowy silhouettes meshed, Pinkamena’s head snapped up to meet her gaze. Her head bobbed and scanned Pinkie’s approaching form. Her body moved closer to the wall to avoid the mare closing in. Her eyes thickened with skepticism. She didn't believe the act was of good intentions. Pinkie had butchered this mare's trust. It hurt.

Underneath Pinkamena's belly, the gravel happened to swirl, crackling from her weight.

Pinkie's breath hitched within her throat. She didn't imagine that, did she? That just moved.

She continued, “—you may have a harsh sense of humor, true. Yet, as a pony that appreciates a good laugh no matter where, I can respect it. You're not mean, you're just being you. Even if that 'you’ happens to be a big pile of stubbornness, you’ve got good qualities too.”

Pinkamena’s face lightened but her body remained alarmed and defensive.

“I owe you an honest, from the bottom of my heart, apology. I shouldn’t be shunning you, I should be accepting you. Who gives two flying rubber chickens if you aren’t real. I can’t imagine you’d want to be friends with me if I’ve been treating you like you’re something I wanted to get rid of, right? That wasn't very Magic of Friendship-like of me, was it?"

The mare was getting severely uncomfortable. Her eyes were small and her form was now crippled. She was basically balled up toward the wall with a downcasted glance.

Pinkie didn't let up, "I don't care what my friends say anymore. Sure, I may be a little sensitive to judgment, but who isn't? I don't mind that you're around, it's nice to know I've got an extra set of eyes watching out for me. Limestone always said she had eyes on the back of her head, but I doubt she meant it in a literal sense that would be creepy! Unless that’s something you can do, I don’t mind being experimental.”

“Okay, okay! I got it, it’s alright I understand what you’re saying. I know I’ve been a bit much and I know I happen to be an acquired taste…but—" Pinkamena's eyes clenched for a moment and they remained shut. She observed the mare's chest rise and fall and a gush of air pushed past her lips. The corner of her mouth twitched before her lids revealed the glittering orbs behind them, now glossy and dampened. "—I don't understand why you suddenly changed. This isn't how things go, they never do. My kind can’t coexist with yours."

“What do you mean coexist? I’m pretty sure your kind and ponies can—”

Pinkamena's eyes were suddenly frenzied and the cords once more throbbed along her neck.

“—You don’t even know fully what I am, Pinkie!”

Her voice cracked and her shoulders hunched forward. She grunted, resisting what appeared to be...pain.

Pinkie’s chin bobbed. She may not know what Pinkamena truly was, but she knew something she wasn't.

“...I know you’re not an illusion, Mena.”

Her gaze was met with hostility in an instant but she didn't dare return it. Slowly, The Element of Laughter pulled her companion's eyes toward a print in the ground with a gesture. Pinkamena's chest stopped rising. Her breath was being held as she glanced downward. Pinkie saw her face pale and her eyes flutter closed in defeat when she realized her movement had caused the gravel to stir.

Clear as day, prints from hooves were squashed into the dirt. Not from Pinkie, but from "The Mare in the Mirror,” herself. Pinkamena lifted her hoof up slowly, watching the sandy grains roll off of it, before sighing with flattened ears.

Defeated. The illusion had been shattered, there was no denying that she wasn't real.

Her hoof plopped back down into the dirt and it dusted her lower torso with a cloud of debris. Pinkie tried to catch her gaze, but Pinkamena was persistent in boring holes into the ground below her.

"So, what exactly are you?" She coaxed, inching closer to where her reflection now waved within Pinkamena's eyes.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Even if you did, it wouldn't end well."

Pinkie was met with a pained expression. Something was fogging her eyes and misting her face with what appeared to be doubt. She was guarded because there was something bigger going on. Something massive. The flames trapped in her eyes and the rage providing the light within them told Pinkie all she needed to know. She had a history and one that was preventing her from trusting anyone. The hostility, the guarding, she was hiding from something...or someone.

"I'm pretty sure I would. Like I've always said, I live and breathe ridiculous. Nothing shocks me anymore. Well, maybe there's an exception for electricity.”

She didn’t respond. The words didn’t appear to reach her at all.

Pinkamena's clenched jaw loosened and Pinkie continued, "I Pinkie Promise that I'll keep it a secret, okay? Whatever you are, or whatever your mission is—you chose to stick with me for a reason. There's been something fishy going on, and it all started when you came out of the mirror. It's almost like…you're becoming stronger."

"No," she corrected, her body slipping out into the morning sun. She grimaced once the shadows were pushed away, and her eyes adjusted to the light. With a hoof shielding her face, she continued, "You're becoming weaker.”

Pinkie followed close behind. “Weaker? What’s going on, you better spill the beans!”

Suddenly Pinkamena had turned to where her muzzle now leveled itself a few feet from Pinkie's current position. Her eyes were sharp and her armor had seemingly repaired itself to once more bear hardness.

“My concealment has run its course. Something’s coming, Pinkie. I’ve been preparing for it for a long time. I can’t explain it to you, because once I do, it won’t be long before you see me as an enemy.”

The earth pony cut off her escape route by sliding in front. Now blocking the outside world and the sun leaking in from the cave’s mouth, she stood firm.

“Didn’t you hear me, goofus? You aren’t something I wanna get rid of, you’re going to be my friend, kay? I don’t really care if you consent or not, Cranky didn’t and he eventually saw my friendship was inevitable and complied. You’ll give in eventually.”

“Yes, I’m aware of your attempt to force Cranky Doodle to break down. Unfortunately, Ponk, it’s not up to you. I don’t have enough time to go over my entire life’s story. I’m not accepting or denying your friendship.” Pinkamena explained, weaving past the blockade in her way. “—I’m not someone you want to be associated with. I shouldn’t have pulled you into this, but I was desperate....I was...dying. That’s my mistake.”

Out of instinct to stop her from leaving, her hoof snatched her shoulder. “W-Wait hold on a second—”

She touched warmth.

Not only body heat, but she had felt fur. Pinkie flinched, hesitating for a second, while she processed what was happening. It was the first time she had been able to touch Pinkamena, and by the way she tensed up, it was as if no one ever had before.

The unknown diety’s eyes fixated on her, almost testing her reaction. She was allowing it.

Pinkie’s hoof slowly reclined. She couldn’t help it when her jaw dropped about an inch. Sure, a moment like this may not be anything special to others, but to Pinkie, it was something to be awestricken about. She had a living and breathing creature within her this entire time! This creature wasn't a pony. No pony had this kind of ability or magic, it was unheard of. Her fur felt coarse and thick with knotted muscle underneath. She was definitely not a pony. They didn't feel like this.

What she was here for was unknown. Why Pinkie was chosen to keep Pinkamena’s secret? That was also a mystery.

“—I’m sorry, I-I kinda popped your personal bubble.”

She responded. “It’s—”

“𝕳𝖙𝖎𝖏 𝖎𝖏 𝖓𝖊𝖍 𝖚𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖝!” A voice interrupted, growling gibberish that had a strangely aggressive feel to it.

Pinkie jumped, scanning the area for the owner of it. The forest was still vacant and untouched by anything other than her fumble last night. The unfitting snarl had reached Pinkamena’s ears as well, and when their gazes met, she could see a deep sadness emerging within it.

“Can you hear it too?” Pinkie Pie asked, while the rattled mare in front of her seemingly grew into panic mode. “You can…can’t you.”

"Yes," Pinkamena responded, sinking her head into her shoulders with a raspy whisper. "—Because it isn't talking to me."

Something wormed its way from her fur and pumped a small puddle into the dip of her shoulder blades. Pinkie's brows ruffled, watching, as the black goop stuck onto her body like gushing tree sap. She didn't seem to notice but she did appear paranoid.

“Mena…there’s something—”

"—Pinkie, I have to leave."

Her words were so quickly overrun by Pinkamena that she still had her mouth open from being interrupted.

She was once more evasive. She was hiding a growing fear and Pinkie wasn't going to let it slide. She was dragged into this, and she deserved to know what was going on!

“Nope. I refuse, you’re staying right here.” She demanded, sticking her snout into the air before huffing past her follower. “I’m going to sit on Mr. Holder’s Boulder Number Two, and stay on this rock until you start spilling some beans! You better get going, I’m a very hungry pony, and if you don’t spill some beans I’m going to get cranky. Trust me, you wouldn’t like me when I’m cranky.”

Right outside the cave, she had found a suitable boulder lodged within parts of the mountain. Pinkamena stood within the entrance giving Pinkie an eye-roll, but the bull-headed mare wasn't hooked by her companion's taunt.

She threw herself over the stone before perching herself upright. With a weighty stare in Pinkamena's direction, she folded her forelimbs over her chest.

"Oh, okay, like sitting on a rock is going to make me change my mind.”

Pinkie snorted hot air from her nose in rebuke.

"Pinkie, you're not a filly. I can't foalsit for you anymore. You're not going to understand or believe me. It's too dangerous to get into with a pony like you. I wanted to depart on a good note—"

Pinkie blew a raspberry in her direction. She was pretty sure Pinkamena’s veins bulged so much she’d pop a blood vessel.

“Fine!” She lashed, making a sharp circle before exposing her flank to Pinkie. “You’re driving me crazy!”

She leaned forward, “You’ll be back. Once you get a taste of the Pinkie, they always come back. If you don’t, I’ll find you. You will comply!”

"Sure, Ponk." Her voice suddenly faded into a lower volume when she muttered to herself. "I've recovered, haven't I? I should be able to break free on my own accord, that's why I've become more of a physical being over the past few days. I can do this…I've done it before."

Pinkie cupped her hooves over her mouth to mimic a megaphone. “You’re gonna faaaail.”

Her glare was enough to scare the devil back into hell.

“I’m serious Mena, there’s something I figured out—”

“—You don’t even know what I’m doing! Now hush." She spat, her venomous expression turned to focus on a patch of grass in front of her. "...It's time."

Her bottom hoof moved clockwise, whereas her top moved opposite of it. She stopped halfway to form a mid-circle, while green light softly broke free from a source illuminating her hooves. Pinkie was almost leaning so far she was in danger of falling off! Pinkamena was a magic-user! No earth pony in existence could harbor magic.

Unless— Pinkamena wasn't an earth pony.

Or a pony at all.

Pinkie’s mouth was spasming like a beached fish. She couldn’t believe what was happening!

An invisible pen inked up the sky with glowing words, but the graffiti was nothing that she could understand. It was all gibberish.

There was something…strange happening with her Cutie Mark. Pinkie had never thought much of it since she had always believed Pinkamena wasn't real, but now, she memorized every detail. Her Cutie Mark happened to be a balance scale with one plate sinking due to the weight of a sword's hilt. Tied on the golden knobs were skulls with blackened eye sockets—void of any color or expression.

At least that was what it had been before.

The left was blinking and sparking, throbbing like it was suffering an invisible shockwave. The mark flashed a brilliant glow from within the once dark socket. It looked like the skull was responding to the magic being summoned.

She mashed her hooves together after muttering chants that were unheard of.

“Zo veno xoquen pekx!”

Nothing happened.

She remained poised from her spell’s position, but the lights faded. She looked flustered and confused as her hooves dropped to her sides in disbelief.

“You’ve got to be joking—” She whispered, disheartened. “I wasn't strong enough?”

"I mean, I did try and warn you before you did that whatchamacallit voodoo magic of yours. You can touch things, and I can feel you, so you are kinda in the actual world. But—" Pinkie leapt off of the boulder like a springy lamb. She landed in front of a shallow puddle leaking from the nearby pond. "—You don't have a reflection. You said I was becoming weaker, but you aren't fully formed. I think ever since you started following me, our minds started to separate...that's why you could do more and more as time went on."

She pointed into the rippled reflection of herself as Pinkamena joined her side. She had a shadow, but the reflection did not receive company.

“You are fearfully observant.” She replied while pawing at the water, “—and you are somewhat right. You may not be able to tell, but I’m mortally wounded. I haven’t recovered as much as I thought. This entire plan of mine to hide and regenerate turned out to be a dud. I can’t free myself on my own.”

“Maybe I can help—”

An animalistic screech tore through their eardrums! It forced Pinkie to cup her hooves over her ears to try and block out the sound. It was deafening, so much so, she was knocked to the ground in hopes of cradling her skull so it wouldn't split!

“𝕳𝖊𝖕𝖝 𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖆 𝖍𝖙𝖎𝖏 𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖕𝖝𝖓'𝖍 𝖋𝖊𝖐𝖗!”

The voice was probing and it raked over them like thunder.

Pinkamena lurched over, her eyes shrunken. “UaUaG!”

Her entire body shivered from an invisible chill. She was unable to keep her head up and her spine hissed and cracked as if something were demanding to be let out. The thick tar bubbled even faster now, leaking into the nape of her neck. Something was stirring...that spell had summoned some kind of phantom with invisible wrath.

“Mena?” Pinkie croaked, but something else responded.

“𝕱𝖔 𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖕 𝖙𝖔𝖐 𝖓𝖊𝖋!”

“You’ll...mmgh… kill…her!” The mare slick with goop pleaded, “leave her…alone, she doesn’t understand!”

"ÄñÐ †hå† ï§ whêrê wê håvê £åïlêÐ,"The demonic creature scolded, “Wê §hðµlÐ håvê kïllêÐ ï† †hê §ê¢ðñÐ ï† wå§ ßðrñ.”

Pinkamena’s eyes thinned with slits overtaking what were once gentle eyes. Her fangs bit into her lip in resistance while the goo crept into her mouth.

"What's happening? You need help! You're hurting!" Pinkie gathered her last strand of bravery. She was able to move forward and, without hesitation, began to claw the substance off her body. "What…is this stuff?"

Her hooves were swallowed by thick ropes of goo. It expanded and squished when she tried to pry it off, but once a spot had been cleaned bare, more would take its place.

There was movement. Pinkie didn’t notice the hoof swooping down toward her until it clipped the side of her head! She spun around from the force before landing muzzle-first into the dirt. Her throbbing skull rang a painful tune throughout her head, making the sounds around her hard to hear.

She didn't expect a sucker punch and it looked like Pinkamena didn't either.

“Ðð ñð† lê† ï† †ðµ¢h µ§. Ðêmðñ§ Ðð ñð† å§§ð¢ïå†ê wï†h †hêïr þrê¥."

The snarl echoed while Pinkie regained her vision. Pinkamena had been completely possessed by this other being and she looked to be helpless in its grasp.

“Wê mµ§† ¢ðñ§µmê ðµr hð§†. Ì† ðñl¥ §êrvê§ å§ å vê§§êl. Wê Ðð ñð† hårßðr êmþå†h¥ †ðwårÐ whå† ï§ måÐê ð£ 𝔣lê§h. ñð lðñgêr wïll wê wåï†. ¥ðµ ¢åñ Ðêñ¥ whå† wê årê, ҍմէ Ì wïll ñð lðñgêr §ï† ïÐl¥. Ì §håll Ðð ï† m¥§êl£.”

It all made sense.

Pinkamena was a hellspawn, a fiend…

A ᎠꂅოԾภ.

Was Pinkie crazy for feeling more sympathy for Pinkamena than fear? She was at war with something that could eat away at her will. Even now, her crazed eyes were void of whatever this demon told her to feel. She didn't agree with it and she desperately fought against its control.

“¥ðµ ¢åñ ñð† ðvêrþðwêr mê. Ì åm ¥ðµ. Wê årê ðñê. ¥ðµr 𝔣êår ¢åll§ †ð mê åñÐ Ì grðw ålðñg§ïÐê ï†,” It hissed, it’s voice weak in breath while it tussled with the other mind it addressed. “†ï†åñ§ Ðð ñð† ßðw †ð mðr†ål§. †hê 𝔣åµl† ð£ m¥ ¢rêå†ïðñ wå§ ¥ðµr ðwñ. Ì ¢åñ Ðð å§ ¥ðµ å§k, ¥ê†, ¥ðµ §ïlêñ¢ê mê? Hê wïll ßêñÐ hï§ kñêê å§ Ì ¢ðmmåñÐ ï†, wh¥ årê ¥ðµ Ðï§þlêå§êÐ?”

“You’ll kill everything in your way to get there!”

The desperate voice was familiar and did not belong to the demon.

Pinkamena's voice was feeble and hardly audible. Her body was flaring with steaming smoke and the black mass had melted onto her flank like a dripping candle. Her body was morphing.

"Pinkie…you have to release me! I can't do it, but if you don't, it will consume you from the inside! Listen to me, the words I said before…repeat them, the spell is already activated!"

“Ì£ ¥ðµ ållðw ï† †ð lïvê ¥ðµ kñðw ð£ whå† wïll håþþêñ. ¥ðµ 𝔣åïlêÐ ïñ ðµr ågrêêmêñ†. ÌñÐêêÐ ¥ðµ årê 𝔣år †ðð wêåk †ð åþþêål †ð ßlå¢k mågï¢. Ì† hå§ åßåñÐðñêÐ ¥ðµ. Äl†hðµgh †hê Ðêmðñ †hå† wê årê ï§ §†ïll wðr†h¥.”

Pinkie opened her mouth to obey, but a searing hot pain locked up her muscles. Her face twisted up in agony, her knees quivering, and a whimper squeezing through her biting teeth. Her body slumped over and plopped onto the ground like a thrown sack of flour. Her senses convulsed from an electrifying pulse of overwhelming torment. Her stomach and ribs clenched and her lungs hummed.

She could only wheeze and look up at the demon standing over her. Pinkamena's fangs were salivating and her eyes were dimmed. Her muzzle was crimped while her mane remained motionless from the goop squishing it against her neck.

“Ì håvê wåï†êÐ ¢êñ†µrïê§ †ð †å§†ê †hê ßlððÐ ð£ åñ Èlêmêñ†. †hê ßlððÐlïñê ð£ å †ï†åñ. M¥ ð†hêr §ïÐê ï§ wêåk wï†h ¢ðmþå§§ïðñ ßµ† Ì wïll ñð† lê† µ§ §†årvê."

Pinkamena was gone. Her body was no more than a shadow. Something else spoke through her lips while the same something peered through her eyes. Pinkie was alone. She wouldn't have Pinkamena to guide her anymore. She had to win with pure wits, overpowering it was completely of the table. Pinkie couldn't use magic. What was Pinkamena thinking? She could usher those words until her tongue fell off, but earth ponies weren't unicorns. They had never been able to use magic!

The demon was eating her from the inside. It had an unpleasant warmth to it which was nauseating. It outstretched a hoof, goo dribbling off of it like melted wax. Pinkie watched long inky hooks extend from the mass, and they flexed as if taunting her. Pinkamena's hoof had expanded, now a large paw equipped with menacing claws. It slammed its paw onto her spine, pinning her into the grass.

It leaned down to tickle her ear with a heated breath. She peered into her own reflection within its gaze. Pinkamena's eyes were a haze of dark cherry and gave off an ominous chill.

“Ðð ñð† †hïñk wrðñgl¥ ð£ mê. ¥ðµr §ðµl wå§ †ð ßê mïñê £rðm †hê §†år† ð£ ¥ðµr ßïr†h,” It said, the hellspawn’s voice an uncomfortable coo.

This thing. It reminded Pinkie of something she was once warned of. Something whispered from deep within her mind: an old memory, one being unlocked from this demon's presence.

"If she truly is alive, I know of her resentment, and the souls she will consume to end us no matter what innocent blood gets shed. We must make haste."

Was she perhaps—

“But, be as it may, this foe will kill you.”

She was, without a doubt, what they feared. As Celestia and Luna had warned—

“—We have limited time in this race against The Devourer.”

Pinkamena was The Devourer, a soul consumer.

Should she free this being? They were terrified of it and there was an obvious reason why. It was an evil spirit that consumed souls, could possess others, and used forbidden magic. Who knows what else it could do, and who knows why it was really here. It's an enemy of Equestria, and as an Element, her job was to—

“—I’m not someone you want to be associated with. I shouldn’t have pulled you into this, but I was desperate....I was...dying. That’s my mistake.”

Was that Pinkamena’s voice? It was, but it was familiar, like another recent memory.

Pinkie squirmed uncomfortably when the demon's maw opened. A milky trail of glowing life energy slithered under its tongue. That substance, her soul, her very life, was leaking away. She felt weak, tongue-tied, and her body was unable to fight it off.

Pinkie’s job was to fight and defeat evils, but Pinkamena wasn't like this other thing. She was caring, she was a bit snarky, but far from evil! The Devourer was now an enemy of The Elements of Harmony, but not Pinkamena. This thing was not the mare in the mirror she had always known! She had been battling with it for quite some time. She needed help, not another enemy to fear.

Pinkie would not be her enemy. She said she’d become a friend and she meant it.

She was not afraid.

“You….I’m…heh… not...afraid! You…bully!” Pinkie panted, her winded words causing the demon pinning her to cock its head. “You hear me?!”

“Äll mðr†ål§ £êår †hê §ïñ ð£ Wrå†h. Ì lµ§† £ðr ¥ðµr 𝔣êår. ¥ðµr lå§† Ð¥ïñg ßrêå†h rêêk§ ð£ ï†."

The demon’s tongue lashed out, flicking against the wind hungrily. Pinkie arched her back so that her legs could stand. The hellspawn looked concerned, gazing at the mare beneath it in a bewildered way. Perhaps it wasn't used to ponies appearing this dense. Who wouldn’t cower in the very presence of a creature from the depths of hell?

Pinkie. That’s who.

“I said I don’t fear you!" Pinkie proclaimed, her voice causing the pressure of its pinning paw to lessen. Its fangs were pulled into the shape of a frown and its eyes became slightly murky with distaste. "You're gonna spit Pinkamena back out right now! Do you hear me, Mr. ScaryTeeth?"

“Çrê†ïñðµ§ Ðåµgh†êr ð£ Gåïå, Ì ¢ðñ§µmê †hê §ðµl§ ð£ †hê lê§§êr. ¥ðµ þð§ê ñð †hrêå† †ð mê. Ì åm ïñ§ïÐïðµ§, vêñðmðµ§, ¥ðµr wðrÐ§ åmµ§ê mê lê§§ †håñ †hê¥ åñgêr mê.”

It was flustered, flabbergasted, by Pinkie’s attempt to beat it down to her level. Pinkamena’s body was still soaked in these gnarled shadows. She was cloaked in darkness that didn’t appear to worsen or grow while it spoke to Pinkie.

Her pompous bravery confused it, but more importantly, she stalled it.

Its hoof was now entirely off her body, giving the last slot of room she needed to stand. Her stare was steely. Even though her intimidation wasn't nearly as hopeful at containing the demon, her stupidity appeared to do the trick.

“Listen here! I don’t wanna hear a peep outta you! All you’ve been is mean! I have always been told to see the good in everypony—" She appeared to be pushing it back with her words. She refused to let it flee and caught up to it when it stumbled away. "You have been a bad demon! I’m starting to think Granny Pie was wrong! Giggling at the ghosties isn’t the cure for the headache you’re causing, you may be scary, but I’m not allowing you to push us around anymore! I’m not going to laugh away the fear, I’m going to yell at it!”

“...Hðw...Hðw Ðð ¥ðµ ñð† 𝔣êår mê? Håvê Ì grðwñ wêåk? †hï§ ï§ Mðrñïñg §†år'§ Ððïñg. Ì† mµ§† ßê, ¥ðµ håvê †åµgh† †hêm ñð† †ð 𝔣êår µ§!”

“Zip it!” Pinkie interrupted, and her command successfully made the demon’s jaws snap shut. “Bad demons go into time out! Once you think about what you've done, maybe Pinkamena and I will have a talk with you! Do you understand me?"

This agitated the monstrous being and it gave her its answer with a guttural roar! Pinkie stood firm and her eyebrows threaded into an expression of a stern caregiver. Her lids narrowed, and once the sound died down, the fiend realized the fear it caused no longer existed. The fear had changed targets, and within the needle-tipped eyes that it had, the terror had turned on the one who created it.

“Ì...håvê 𝔣åïlêÐ µ§, ßµ† m¥ wrå†h hå§ ñð† ßêêñ qµêñ¢hêÐ. Èlêmêñ† ð£ Hårmðñ¥, ¥ðµ ¢åñ ñð† qµêll mê £ðrêvêr. 𝔣êår ï§ ïñê§¢åþåßlê, åñÐ whêñ †hê §êêÐ ð£ 𝔣êår åñÐ åñgêr ßlððm§—†hêrê wïll ßê ¢årñågê. ¥ðµr §ðµl hå§ ßêêñ mårkêÐ.” It warned, but the one standing over it was unfazed.

“A small risk I'm willing to take.” Pinkie replied lowly, wiggling her eyebrows mockingly. “Zo veno xoquen pekx!”

The words she shouted were aided by thunder-like war trumpets. Something grumbled from above, bringing both their attention to the sky. There was tension bubbling within the clouds. Darkness had been summoned, which had snuffed out the light from the sun. The land was now plagued by crackling lightning that wrapped around the engorged clouds.

The malevolent being shielded its face from a brightness that wasn't present. There was no light, only a gloomy shadow over the two bodies beneath it. Pinkie's knees wobbled, but not from anxiety over the current weather. She was hit with sudden fatigue which had dropped her eyelids halfway.

There was a ring of magic gathering around them both. The demon appeared to be caged, but it didn’t gnaw at the invisible bars as she expected. It just stared at her with such malice it caused her lips to pale.

A column of light struck the kingdom of clouds. It drilled a hole in the middle and scattered the bolts like bowling pins. The magic had a lurid effect among the bleak sky and was far too bright to withstand.

Pinkie had to shield herself from the light while the wind flared up her mane.

Thunder crackled, its voice booming alongside the pillars of colors. The demon was swallowed within it and Pinkie soon followed.

There was nothing in the plains and valley except for the pole of brilliance prodding at the sky. The ground protested in violent shudders, but within minutes, the last of the light bled into the clouds and was absorbed.

Underneath the sky was instantly revealed. Pinkie cradled herself like an infant, the grass was now scorched, and the boulder she had stubbornly sat upon smashed to pebbles.

One eye popped open. Her hoof ceased acting as a last-minute helmet and her senses slowly reactivated. She scanned the landscape and resting upon it, was Pinkamena.

Well, Pinkamena yet not Pinkamena.

Her mouth stood agape in a silent ‘O’ as the demonic mare stirred.

“Well.” Pinkie began, “That’s definitely not something you see every day.”

Chapter Five

What was that probing mouse-pitched squeak rattling my eardrums? Gods, it was high and utterly abhorrent to me like a dog whistle. It formed warped words and slapped me with a strange octave that appeared so far away. What was that feeling under me? It was coarse, spongy, and had an earthy smell to it. Where was I?

My eyelids were heavy. I could catch a scent neither sweet nor sour, I couldn't name it, but it was unique. It was masked behind a layer of sweat that had a sharpness to it. It's edge somewhat jump-started my memory and reminded me that I wasn't alone.

I pried open an eye, being first met with blades of grass. The grass was bent from a silhouette that flattened it with hooves. The outline of the shadow was almost a neon pink within my hazy vision.

“...Alright, well, nothing else worked. Guess I’ve gotta do the kiss of life.”

I heard lips smack. The mare above me looked a little confused as to when CPR was appropriate. Right now was not one of those times.

“NoOoO—" I whined, with my hoof outstretched to reject her oncoming approach. When contact was met, I recoiled, I didn't expect her to be so plush. Maybe that was up for debate since I had been deprived of my ability to touch for years. "Please refrain from violating my civil rights, seriously."

“Woooow,” Pinkie prolonged, “you’ve got some pipes, Mena! I’m sure everyone in Equestria could hear that! You’ve got a gift for screaming.”

Pinkie was perched on my chest with a doe-eyed expression that showed a glossy serenity. For a mare that had an unnaturally healthy diet of gluten and sugar, she was surprisingly light. I winced when a whiff of candyfloss overpowered the other scents warring for my attention. My stomach clenched, not of hunger per se, but more of nausea. I didn't like the aroma Pinkie had because of the overwhelming sweetness. It may be a heady perfume to others, but to me, this was more like repellent.

Her eyes reflected like that of a mirror. I could see my scowl growling back at me. Those crimps along the bridge of my nose should have told her long ago that I didn’t enjoy the invasion of my personal space.

“How long was I out?” I asked the pony draped over my stomach and chest.

“Three days.”

My breath formed a lump that caused my voice to crack, “three days?!”

She pressed a hoof to her lips to stifle a snorted laugh. “I’m just joshing you. You were out for a while, but not that long silly. If I had to guess, I'd say about three teensy hours.”

I released a breath that my lungs had held captive. My heart had picked up an alarming pace from Pinkie's unwanted tease. I had almost drowned out her words from the steady drum pounding in my ears. My anxiety spiked for a good reason, three days would have been a dangerous amount of time to be exposed. Pinkie and I had been quite close for a while, you could say I was literally joined to her hip. Hah, but really, my tendency to jump the gun and drop my shackles backfired horribly. How was I supposed to know my black magic abandoned me?

That red tape was on me, a significant error on my part. I had bunked with Pinkie for the long haul in hopes to fly under the radar. Actually, the anniversary of my decade-long 'catch-me-if-you-can’ would have been doubled when Pinkie hit the big two-zero. Not that it was terrible to be chained within the depths of another species, but it wasn't an ideal way to spend nineteen years of your immortal life.

Coeus didn’t spend his time with his tail between his legs as I had. It was pretty gutsy of him to announce his return with a freaking meteor. I wasn't trying to be a hypocrite, I knew I had blackened the sky with my return to flesh—but, you know, still.

"My discomfort in this situation is immeasurable. I dislike the touch of anyone especially snuggling, please respect that and let me breathe without suffocating." I explained before I flicked my hoof downward to direct her on where to sit.

"I'm not snuggling you, I'm sharing body heat. It's a survival tactic, you know. Do you always use that many syllables in one go when you're upset? Do you know how many balloons you could have inflated with that breath?"

She nuzzled me, finding a spot I didn’t know would ache. I magnified my woe, not allowing my discomfort to show. It had been so long that I had forgotten I was still wounded. I could feel a puff from her breath in a relaxed sigh. I hissed my frustration through my teeth, but it didn’t show in my tone.

“Off, now!”

Her lip was pouty, but she obeyed. With an exasperated huff, she rolled off of my stomach and flopped onto her side. I knew Pinkie was a touchy-feely kind of pony, but demons weren't ones to welcome affection as easily as others.

Speaking of demonic behavior, Pinkie’s way of dealing with my other side was… odd. It was the first time anything was dumb enough to brush up against it and ruffle its feathers. In fact, it was so shocked, it feared her in a way. I had never seen any creature, pony, or animal resist its intimidation. Pinkie was different, alright.

Either that, or I was right about the lights being on, but no one was home.

"What happened to you? You just sorta went A-wall, and I was worried. You got all sticky and evil-eyed before saying all this villainy stuff. You said things like 'Arrr, I’m a demon fear me’ and ‘I’m gonna eat you cause you’re tasty' I almost wet myself." Pinkie traced her surroundings with her eyes while touching her top lip with her tongue. She then quickly looked down and continued, "actually, I kinda did."

I grimaced, “do you ever keep some things to yourself? Or do you identify as an open book?”

“I identify as Pinkie Pie, goofus. I’m very secure about my identity.”

I opened my lips to say something but closed them. I wasn't even going to try and redirect the conversation back to the original source.

She steamrolled past the awkward pause as if what she had said wasn't dodging me in the slightest. “Gonna need an answer on that one.”

I had agreed since the beginning that I wouldn’t expose myself to anyone. The whole point of pretending to be an illusion would have been wasted otherwise. Mortals hated my kind with a passion. I would say a fiery passion but those words were far too gentle for what they felt towards me. More like an acidic, burning, and obsessive passion. Enough of a hatred where to this day even Pinkie's parents would go off on a tangent about fiends and demons. Their daughter wouldn't be any different. She was a pony with the personality of gnawed gum, in other words, soft. Far too squeamish and loyal to Celestia to stomach a demon.

My story had some dark pages in past chapters. It cut me enough to form the words in bloody ink. They were stuck to me with more than tight seams. I couldn't get past them because the book to me was unfinished...a cliffhanger. My last battle with my brother was rather anti-climatic. He had thought he wrote out the final conclusion, only to be summoned for a sequel. When seeing that meteor fall from the sky I couldn't help but review those forgotten pages.

I didn't want to give Pinkie a retelling of the tale. Far too painful.

As much as I abhorred the idea of remembering those old scars, I dragged Pinkie into this. She deserved an explanation. Part of an explanation. A tiny fraction of the story.

"...I'm classified as a hybrid of sorts. I don't know the entirety of my blood, but I know part of it belongs to demons." I began, bringing my hoof upward so that my eyes could examine it. "I change forms quite frequently because of this. My demonic traits seem to get watered down or appear more frequently depending on how active it is."

Her nose wiggled and her ears remained perked.

She just stared at me as if she were studying something alien, almost. Well, technically, I was an alien. I didn’t belong here, none of my kind did. Perhaps she feared my appearance? Or maybe she was debating what to do with me. Sure, Pinkie offered friendship, but that was total bull. I’ve experienced how demons have been treated, rightfully so, but it was still on the list of things to be cautious about.

I didn't want to fight Pinkie, I never did. Clearly, I was far from a threat at this point, but she didn't know that. It nerved me when seeing those beady eyes cross-examine my body. I was a little uncomfortable. It reminded me of those long-furry snake things Fluttershy had, what were they called, ferrets?

She shifted to sit upright, “you’re really tall.”

Of course, that was what was on her mind. No concern about a demon that had been a peeping tom in her mirror for years, or the giant firework show from black magic—nope, because my height was clearly the elephant in the room.

“You have wings!”

Her hoof had crept onto my leathery wings in an instant before exploring them with awestruck orbs of blue. Her eyes swept over my form, while instinctively, I attempted to shiver her off.

“Pinkie, no!” I scolded, but I was promptly ignored.

"Look at this!" She urged, stretching out my right-wing and holding the inner side in her left hoof. She glided her other across the outer surface, "I've never seen any wing quite like this! It's scaley, yet soft, it's also really long! Why didn't you have wings in the mirror? Why do they glow orange? Ooo, are those skulls for a Cutie Mark?”

If she kept touching me I was going to hiss like a teapot. I didn't have time for this! Pinkie didn't seem to care about my explanation or dare I say an explanation at all. As frustrating as it was for her thoughts to be scattered, there was something endearing about her not being afraid of me. It didn't quite redeem her but it made it easier to tolerate Pinkie's tendency of not reading the room. It was kind of sweet actually. Unfortunately, I lacked a sweet-tooth in this situation, so her actions were taken as candy-coated misery.

What was she even doing back there?

"Wow, you're about a whole Pinkie head taller than me! That's even counting my mane on a frizz day! You're also super lean. What kind of diet have you been on in my subconscious? Keto? Vegan? Clearly, you know how to manage carbs—I-I, don't. I'm terrible at it, as I say I'm here for a good time not a long time!"

I had many questions about that last statement.

"That's enough." I interrupted, shaking her grip off of my back leg. She was knocked onto her rump before she blew a raspberry. "—Pinkie, this is serious. I can't waste time playing with you. I get your inability to register urgency but I can't stay here."

"Wait a minute!" Pinkie halted, sweeping in front of me as if that would interrupt my urge to swerve around her. "—Where are you going? We're just getting to know each other! Now all my friends can see that you're real and that I wasn't—"

“—No!" I pleaded, "do not tell The Elements of Harmony! That would be very, very, very dangerous to my health. The Elements...I…we…well, we just don't really get along. In fact, it's safe to say they are hazardous. Don't tell your friends I'm here, for both your sake and mine. Can you do this simple task?"

Her face was blank. “....Why?”

There was that pesky stare again, my God! She was a curious thing, but she wasn't one to deceive her friends. I had asked her to lie about me and to pretend she didn’t know I was real. She would never keep something from her best friends and I was stupid to even ask for such a thing. Pinkie couldn't even keep a secret about Shining Armor's baby—what in Gaia's green earth would prevent her from doing the same with my secret? That wasn't very smooth on my part.

She’s the absolute worst at secrets. Judging by her look, she didn’t appear very happy with my silence and was growing impatient. Perhaps she’d understand my side if I told it first. Unlikely, but it was an option.

“Pinkie, I really don’t want to be the one to break this to you,” I began, lowering my tone to a warmer degree. “Remember that comet that we saw the other night?”

“The space rock that Maud likes to collect before intimately snuggling with?”

“Yes, wait, no. Huh?” My eyebrows formed crimps. Her expression didn’t change, once more refusing to follow up more on the subject. I hated when she did that, "—It wasn't a space rock, or a meteor, comet, not even space debris. It's an…old rival of mine who happened to have been gone for a while. A…Titan."

She pursed her lips. "Mena, what's a Titan? Sounds kinda bad-guy-ish. Is it something that spells inevitable doom for Equestria? We get that a lot."

Inevitable doom wouldn’t be the half of it. Try extinction. I didn’t expect her to know what a Titan happened to be since the last time one was seen was two thousand years ago. The only one who would have lived long enough to remember was Celestia, and oh, she remembered.

She was not fond of me, obviously.

"Titans are what you call a lion among sheep. To the best of my knowledge, they were here before even Equestria was formed. Before you were born, before I was born, and even before Celestia was an Alicorn."

Pinkie swatted her hoof with a trill of her lips. "Pfft…that can't be true. Celestia was here before sliced bread. She's oooooold.”

She fell into a gale of laughter. The way her voice chortled in such a childish manner had annoyed me over the years. Eventually, my irritation wouldn't bother to bubble up since it was so free and pure despite it being carried into adulthood. It had a unique charm to where one would consider overlooking the immaturity in it.

Titans were much more than just lions. The one I knew was a hunter. His name was Coeus, Lord of the North. He had Equestria wrapped around his claw the last time we had met on the battlefield. I was positive his allegiance with Celestia hadn't changed. It appeared she had him on speed dial considering what she said after the Gala.

How would one go about telling a sunshine child about war? Where would I start? Should I begin before the bloodshed or after it? Or perhaps somewhere in between the mature and PG-13 version? I needed to figure it out, I had run out of time, but I didn’t mean I had somewhere to be. I had run out of time to stall.

She had no idea about the war stirring. I didn’t think it would be right to even tell her, yet, I had to. The Elements of Harmony were Celestia’s trump card, both a strength and a weakness. I was fooled once and I paid heavily for it.

She would soon find out that I had to fight her friends. As well as fighting her.

“...Maybe you should sit down.” I coaxed, gesturing to a patch of grass beside me.

This situation called for precision. I had to be gentle with the news. I needed to be considerate and equally balance my delivery of the story with censorship. To Pinkie, this was going to be soul-crushing. Even when looking into her eyes now I felt a call to abandon it altogether. It was an innocent gaze, one with a waxy shine. It...scared me to picture them full of betrayal after telling her about what had to be done. It was as if I were asked to slap a filly in the face. Then quickly slapping a bandaid on their cheek and claiming it was for the good of the realm. The news was going to sting.

Maybe the strings in my heart were rusted but they could still be tugged. Her look was pulling them so hard the threads were frayed. By the Gods, I just couldn't. Not in this way. This was Pinkie Pie, war was an impossible concept for her to grab fully.

“You are the absolute worst pony to explain this to. I still have to talk to you about this, but I'd rather do it in another way. Come, sit." I offered, grazing my hoof on the tips of grass blades before ushering her over.

She lumbered forward, sitting down shoulder-to-shoulder. The silence was awkward to me. I held air in my cheeks while grinding the gears in my brain. I needed to be accurate, but again, censored significantly.

The whole realm of Equestria had changed since the last time I was around. Now they've got the entire province convinced life was about rainbooms and happy little critters. From time to time, a boorish creature would stomp on their parade, but why bother worrying? The Elements of Harmony would just use their little artifacts of death to rainboom you to oblivion, so who would care? No big bad wolves here to worry about, right? Wrong.

Celestia had kept the peace because of that illusion. She had buried the history in which my story had been sworn to silence in an earthy grave. The final nail was my banishment and there Equestria's secrets would have been sealed. If I had died, that is.

“...You asked about what happened, and I know you’re wondering why I’m here and what I am. Have you ever wondered how the heavens and earth came to be?”

She replied, "one day, I asked Twilight about heaven. Since it's in the clouds, it should be pretty easy to reach by air travel, aka, The Pinkie Balloon. She kinda gave me a funky glare and muttered under her breath that it wasn't real. She then gave me a very lengthy chit-chat about how religion was just a way to rub a non-existent deity in every pony's faces. She called herself an atheist…I think that's the word she used, which is crazy because we both saw heaven!"

My stare had been focused elsewhere for a while, but they found Pinkie’s eyes. “You’ve seen heaven?”

She giggled, her muzzle crinkling to expose her top teeth in a smile. “Of course, I don’t know why every pony is acting like it's some high-end party place. I’d give it three stars at best. The rainbows were nice, a little spicy, but doable. The clouds are bouncy, the sports are fair, and the tour was meh. Twilight must feel pretty silly after my balloon idea worked."

My face fell. Was it truly possible for a pony to be this stupid? I would never say my thoughts aloud, but you could knock on her skull, and it would echo. There was nothing there. I had to resist the urge to investigate if my theory held water.

“—Pinkie. Cloudsdale isn’t heaven.”

“Uh-Whahaaaat?” She responded in an overly exaggerated gasp. Her eyes were dilated as if I had just told her the earth wasn't flat back in the old days. “But-but, Fluttershy has a pet named Angel…that’s a dead giveaway to their dirty little secret!”

“Anyway,” I continued through a vexed and clenched jaw. “—There are two ancient Titans that created most of what you see. The air, the grass, the dirt, and the sky. One is Gaia, the one they call Mother Earth, and the other Uranus.”

Pinkie hiccuped, choking on her breath before bringing her hooves to her lips. “That’s a funny word.”

It’s like talking to a brick wall. I was not trying to be rude, but she wasn't the brightest crayon in the box. You could compare her to that ridiculous white crayon that came with the pack and tried to fit in. She was trying, but her contribution was less than useless.

I tucked a lock of my mane behind an ear, "they created Titans. I am aware of one, Coeus, but none of the others. Long ago, Gaia had an era called the Golden Age in which everything was arguably perfect.”

Pinkie glanced around my left side. Her wandering eyes didn’t distract me from continuing. It was just a quirk Pinkie had that you either ignored or excused.

"—Twelve of them are said to keep the balance of life functioning. One happened to have three sons, in which the second tier was born. They were called Olympians, but mortals fondly call them Gods. These Gods didn't really agree with their father Cronus, and so they started a war—"

"—Pinkamena, there's an arrow in your shoulder," she interrupted.

“This war,” I spat, trying to continue my freaking conversation for like the fifth time. “—Was between all Titans and newborn Gods. The Titanomachy. Led by the eldest son, Zeus, they struck down their father and banished the remaining Titans into Tartarus—”

She placed a hoof on my shoulder blade. “That’s a pretty big ouchie. Umm…I think you need medical help. Like an: ‘arrow-in-my-body,’ doctor.”

“Let. Me. Finish. Please!" I slapped my hooves together in a 'prayer' position and touched the tips of them to my lips. "I just want to explain so you won't be caught off guard, and then, we can part as unlikely friends."

There was a sharp prick near my upper back.

“Ooo. Oo. That looks bad, we are going to need a lot of bandaids. The head is really stuck in there, like when you lose the cap to your icing tube inside the cake batter. It's pretty hard to fish out."

I recoiled with a throaty roar. Pinkie leaned back, removing her hoof from where it had rested. She was flabbergasted by my reaction, how rude of me, perhaps I should have warned her before she so carelessly broke the no-touch rule.

I parted us with a wing and scooted her a few inches away, “why would you touch it?!”

Her right forelimb draped over my wing as her left hoof pointed forward. “Cause you need help! Now that I’m looking at you, you’re pretty banged up. You look like you got in a fight with an archery range, and lost. I don’t think the other guy looks as bad as you either, no offense, I’m sure you held your own. Archery ranges are tough cookies.”

I wet my lips and avoided eye contact. My eyes had disobeyed me and had taken their line of sight to my legs and stomach. Pinkie wasn't wrong. Not that I was expecting a different outcome, but it wasn't very uplifting to see yourself mimic the poor soul who pissed off Rarity’s cat. Slashes from claws advertised memories of my past battles, as well as gashes from sharpened swords. They were scars far from the spoils of war I wished to gain. Then, Pinkie had politely pointed out another, which was sticking out from behind my vision.

Well, on a regular basis, yeah, I should have noticed. What kind of moron doesn't see half an arrow sticking out of their shoulder? Me, apparently.

"I…urg…mmgh—" Pinkie hacked with her face as green as what you'd expect nausea to look like. "Mmmkgh…"

When I mentioned Pinkie was squeamish, I was actually serious about that. She covered her lips with half a hoof. Her face was about as knotted and twisted up as I imagined her stomach to feel. She then grimaced as if she could already taste the inching warmness and the aftertaste in the back of her throat.

“I’ll be fine. Demons regenerate, it may take two millennia,” I muttered begrudgingly, “—but it’ll heal…some time…probably.”

Pinkie looked woozy and a little light-headed. "No…no voodoo magic. Need..hospital…and modern-day medicine…urk. Mmgurgh.”

That didn’t sound like an ‘I-should-be-within-five-feet,’ sound at all. Removing myself from the splash range would be an intelligent move right about now. Pinkie’s face was dulled into a pale pink and dotted with a layer of cold sweat. Yep, those dilated eyes meant she was about to blow.

“This way!” She suddenly announced, shooting her hoof into the air and veering around to point forward. She wiggled herself into a standing position, “weeee-ooooooo!”

I wasn't super familiar with the encyclopedia-length definition that explained each of Pinkie’s abnormal sounds, but this was matter-of-factly a knock-off of a siren. Or an attempt. At least she put some effort into it, but it wouldn’t win first prize at the fair.

"No thanks," I declined. My goal was to keep my voice as light and as polite as possible. Hospitals weren't too well-read when it came to demon anatomy. I doubted any insurance company had a policy for my kind, anyway. “Pinkie, I have to get moving.”

I had hit a forked road here. I couldn't just let Pinkie roam around knowing what I was, she'd crack as soon as someone questioned her. I also couldn't keep her on a leash and attach her to my hip, either. When I possessed her body, I had a plan I…just…well, I couldn’t convince myself to go through with it.

My demon side didn’t like me going back on my word.

So I had two very different options. One, I could consensually kidnap Pinkie Pie, or you know, kidnap her the regular way.

I wasn't going to kill or hurt her. She wouldn’t even notice she was a captive. I'd never actually hurt a pony—no, no, Pinkie wouldn't actually be kidnapped. She just had to stay away from her friends. So, in other words, I was going to have to babysit her. I really wanted to avoid that option, since that meant I had to actually look after her until I had a solid plan.

She jumped out in front of me. Again, not entirely educated on Pinkie sounds, but I think she just made the sound of a skidding tire.

"—Wait a minute," She declined while pressing two hooves onto my chest and anchoring her tush into the ground. "Y-You can't leave, there's still so much I've gotta know about you! We also have to yank that thing right out of your—"

“No! Don’t touch it, dear God, please!” I begged, removing her hooves that felt like fishing hooks digging into my skin. Her grip was oddly desperate and clingy, “I’d much rather have anyone other than you do it!”

Her face darkened from a slash of hurt. Immediately, I felt a sting of remorse. I wasn't trying to be insolent toward her offer since I knew she was only trying to help. I could take care of myself, and I didn't need to be nursed by an Element of Harmony who may or may not still be on the ropes about keeping our truce.

Pinkie’s face was animated with more than just annoyance. She was not very happy with me. Her eyes squinted, challengingly, before a hoof sank into the giant puffball that was her disheveled mane. I was surprised at how dense it was, regardless if you wanted to look or not, her disappearing act was impressive. Half her limb was absorbed in the mess like a sinkhole.

Slowly she pawed out a yellowish paper. It was bent up, peeling, and water-damaged as if it had been through a few showers. She pinned it between two hooves before flicking her wrists to present the front side to me. She had quite the conceited smirk on her face as if she had just beaten me in a chess game.

I looked downward, and I still didn't get it. "Pinkie, this is an Uno card."

“Mhmm!” She chirped, once more nudging the card forward.

There was a pause. Perhaps I was too dim-witted to understand Pinkie’s realm, but it was an Uno card. The behavior of the Pinkius Pieicus, as Twilight had named, was quite something to behold indeed.

“....I don’t…I don’t understand,” I admitted, her sigh of dissatisfaction following quickly after.

“It’s an Uno skip card, duh. It means you aren’t allowed to deny my assistance because your opinions on the matter have been disabled. Therefore, in the rule book, which I totally read—you can’t make an action. Speaking is an action, rejecting me is an action, and you can’t do these things until it's your turn again.”

My entire expression was rounded all the way from my lips and eyes. Not in fear, more so questioning why I was even bothering with this mare. That was never how Uno had worked, and I didn't think anyone bothered to tell her.

"—Simon says, follow Pinkie." She commanded, flicking a hoof over her head and gesturing for us to get moving.

I...what…huh? This didn't make sense! My best bet was to roll with it, as of now, I didn't have much of a plan. Pinkie needed to stay away from her friends until she knew my side of the story. Once she was grouped with them, it was game over.

They’d hound me like a pack of starved wolves.

I followed closely. Pinkie bounced along the grass, humming some improvised tune of mirth. I stepped on a patch of bristles that was dampened, and I wrinkled my nose. I did a little waddle to flick off the mud from them, before once more tailing my guide. I hadn't felt water in a very long time. Or sunlight, heat, cold, and any sensation others may have had trouble imagining life without.

It was strange.

—Being back on the earth as a full form, smelling the forest in its prime. It was fading into fall, and so the scents of pine and crisp winds were evident. The grass was tangled with colored leaves, which I happened to notice when we crunched through them. Speaking of smells, I ached to feel taste.

The agony of going years without quenching my thirst had nipped at me. The same was told for food. I hungered, and I hungered terribly.

Demons fed on emotions you see, but not for nutrients. We happened to suck negative emotions to fuel our power, and consumed souls to absorb the owner’s abilities. When it came to what I wanted on my plate, a caesar salad is what I’d prefer.

—But not what I needed.

We're carnivores. Predators existed in Equestria, and eating meat wasn't as shunned as it was in the old days. Griffons had a more meaty diet back in the day, even picking on smaller species if they got hungry enough. Of course, this was outlawed when the nations agreed that it was an unnecessary onslaught.

My kind, well, I’d keep this to myself until the day I’m dead and gone—but we eat, you know….

Pinkie.

Not her specifically, but her species. I'd never in a million centuries do something like that. I couldn't vouch for my other half, however. It didn't agree with my choice of eating something less alive and green. It liked its prey still squirming on the dinner table. It was why I chained myself in her subconscious. I couldn't be trusted when it came to my unwanted urges.

One slip up and the demon had already sharpened its claws.

I had been absorbed in my own thoughts for quite some time that I didn’t notice Pinkie had been flapping her gums.

“—Dashie said eating a bunch of sweets would make it all go to my hips or my tushy-tush. So I started throwing sacks of flour to get all lean with a few tiny bites here and there. She came back to tell me everypony thought I was getting even bigger, hearsay! It’s just my floof, you can agree, right Mena?’

"I'm not familiar with the word floof, " I said, drowsily coming back from my own thinking.

“It’s a cinnamon for fur,” she responded.

“I think you mean synonym, Pinkie. It’s not pronounced that way.”

She snorted, "I'm pretty sure I'm up to snuff with my English classes. It's pronounced cinnamon."

No, it's not. It's really, really, not. My eye roll was so emphasized I was positive I got a good look at my brain. It was best to ignore her and let her yap on.

Pinkie was much more friendly than I expected. She either didn't know a lot about demons or was a little foolish.

Sure, she might be questioning how evil I could have possibly been. She figured out I shook the entire mountain to crush the timberwolves, restarted the fire, and kept pushing for her to survive. Honestly, I would have been freed if she would have perished. That was why my demonic half was getting pissy.

If she would have died, The Elements of Harmony would be shattered, my secret would be safe, and it would weaken Coeus significantly.

Even though I was trying to save their planet, could I truly live with the idea of sacrificing others for the greater good? The answer had always been no.

I was weak in that aspect.

A cry of victory shredded my last thoughts. “Mena, look! Shelter! I have provided!”

How long had we been walking? It felt like a few minutes. Apparently, our walk had been quite long because the sun now looked like melted butter on the horizon. The sky had announced that it was sunset, and it cast a golden hue upon the valley. A weather-beaten barn rested within a wheat field that had been tucked in the plains. A lonely cottage was snuggled between two rugged trees with vines constricting the cobblestone walls.

Pinkie shielded her face with a hoof. “What a score, it looks like it's abandoned too! I don’t think anypony would mind if we just slipped on in there, dontcha think?”

I was beyond relieved to notice the entire property was vacant. Pinkie would have had a hard time dragging me anywhere near places with…life.

I'd expect Equestria to have abandoned houses with rotting frames and squirming termites in places like this. The woods were infested with timberwolves, and it wouldn't take a genius to gather up their savings and find better farmland. Yet, these crops looked healthy. It wasn't impossible for plants to grow without care, and it could very well be wild wheat, but something didn't seem right. It was too innocent and easy.

Pinkie divided the golden vegetation that was up to our hips with her stride. She cut a path through the wheat and scattered little grains from the crops into the air. I felt a little tickle when one of these reeds brushed against my muzzle. I tensed up, snapped my hooves together, and hunched over in a sneeze.

Allergies. Wretched Mother Nature.

I sniveled and rubbed the back of my hoof against my nose. Pinkie had crushed a path in minutes, which made my stroll a lot easier. I followed closely, careful to avoid more pollen clouds that would sucker punch me at any given moment.

She bounced out into an opening where the wheat had faded into visible grass. It was unkempt and wild, with several dandelions and onion grass that sprouted from clover. This property had been left to rot, no doubt. The entire cottage was a crumbling skeleton of what it had been.

I wrinkled my nose. The whole place smelled like rat droppings. Ugh.

"Come on, come on. Let's see what kind of treasures are here," Pinkie invited in an oddly playful tune. "—Who knows what will be inside! It could be a lion or a witch…or a wardrobe! Or something inside the wardrobe, like Narnia."

I came up by her shoulder as she dusted off a window. Her entire hoof was coated in whatever grime she had just wiped off. Okay, ew. She didn’t appear to mind and peered inside by pressing her entire face against it.

“Thuh drr iz luocced.” She said, still breathing steam onto the glass.

Her voice was muffled and dulled by her entire face being squished. I gently took my hoof and pushed it under her chin. I then tugged her throat away from the window, and her muzzle popped right off the glass. She took a large gulp of air, while I stared at the imprint she left. I had no idea her smushed face could mold like playdough and make such a work of art. I held back a chuckle.

"English, please," I replied.

“The door is locked.” She repeated, pointing at the bolted door. “Gonna need a little something, something, to get it open. Watch this!”

She strolled around to the door's front. She flipped around to where her back hooves now faced it, and her head was visible to me. She gave me a reassuring nod and balanced her weight onto her front limbs. She angled her back ones up into the air and then let loose.

“HUAH!”

Dust fluttered forward, and there was a heavy thud. Unfortunately, that was about the only exciting thing that happened.

I rolled my eyes yet again. If I were to keep doing so, my eyes would roll right out of my head. She looked disappointed, pouting at the undamaged hinges as if they would be shamed by her evil glare.

"Well, now I'm convinced physics is a myth. When you kick something, it's supposed to go 'flop’ and fall down!” Pinkie berated while furrowing her brows, “—this is unacceptable!”

“Not to ruin whatever it is you’re trying to do, but aren’t locked things supposed to be a sign to you know… stay out?”

Pinkie threw her hoof toward the ground. "Well, this mat says 'Welcome,' so your argument is invalid. Therefore, I'm going to accept their offer and come inside even if it means I have to break down this door!" She looked a little too aggressive about the problem when she turned and marched toward the window. "You hear me! I accept your oddly secured welcome invitation!”

"Pinkie, this is trespassing. I don't think this place is abandoned—"

She placed both hooves on the glass window, before whipping back to stare at me. “No, we’re venturing onto another pony’s property without their permission.”

“That’s—” I stopped, rubbing the anger from my temple with a hoof. “—That’s what trespassing means! It’s also illegal!”

While I massaged the tension from my head, there was a loud crack. Something shattered, hooking my attention and making me snap back up to look at what had happened! Pinkie was worming her forelimb through a purposefully made hole in the window. I was utterly shocked, and my mouth was slacked.

“Pinkie…what in the actual hell are you doing?”

She stuck out her tongue in concentration. Then she decided to press her shoulder into the window frame to lean in further. “I’m getting the bolt cropper they left on the desk near their living room window.”

Her voice was so casual and unbothered that it nerved me. I didn't understand why she was going through all this trouble.

"You're getting arrested," I replied flatly while crossing my forelimbs over my chest. "—Like with charges of breaking and entering.”

Not that Pinkie cared much. Equestria was surprisingly lax about ponies breaking and entering. Pinkie had done this same thing to Cranky several times, but even he didn't have enough evidence for a restraining order. Perhaps it was something her moral compass ignored. To be fair this place did look abandoned. What did she even want from inside it?

Pinkie leaned back out from the window. She held a silver bolt cropper within her grip in which she flipped into the air before catching. She cheesed at me, before slinging it over her shoulder and showing some spunk in her strut toward the door.

"Nah. Dontcha know the rules? We already sinned when we broke the window. If you commit one sin, you've already been a bad pony. If you're the lowest of the low, you can't go farther than that, right? As they say, once you hit rock bottom, you can only go up! So in order to no longer be on the naughty list, you've just gotta do good things. Do one good thing for each bad thing, and it cancels each other out! Easy peasy!"

I put up my right hoof with it slightly bent. I then put it back down. There were just so many things wrong with what she said I wasn't even going to try.

Pinkie angled the bolt cutter's teeth on one of the light chains securing the door. "This chain is wrapped around even on the inside. No amount of brute force is gonna crack it. With this lock-busting thingamajigger, I can crack it open like a very stubborn ostrich egg!"

She fiddled with her position. My hooves remained crossed. I understood her obsession with others denying her friendship and then being forced to endure her shenanigans inside their home. This, though. This aggressive effort to get inside this cottage drew a large question mark above my head. She even went out of her way to get a bolt cutter.

I then filled the silence. “I find it odd that the owner had something that just so happens to break through the chain fortress on their door.”

She blew a raspberry. "Well, duh, if you get locked out of your house, you need something to help you get back in. Cause if they lose their key, that would be prettttty bad. So most ponies hide a little tool, which I exploit, in order to get into places. Many ponies don't know that the oldest trick in the book is either the key under the mat or the bolt cropper near the window. 'Ol Pinkie knows."

"So, in other words, you break into houses for God knows what."

“Correctamundo,” She agreed while putting pressure onto the cutter’s ends. “Anyhoodle…almost got it open. Mmmgh!”

The chains didn’t budge. She once more applied pressure, but her strength was no match for the flimsy locks that rejected her. She wiped non-existent sweat from her crinkled forehead, but this time, pushed her upper body over the bolt cropper.

I blew silent air from my nostrils. The words she said before… I wondered if—

My curiosity led me to the worn ‘welcome’ mat Pinkie sat on. She paid me no mind while I gently brushed my hoof over the bristles bent out of shape. I tugged at a corner before peeling it up from the grass it rested on. Something decided to play peek-a-boo from under it and smiled its shining face in the falling sun.

Well, would you look at that?

“There’s a key under the mat.”

Pinkie paused mid-push. Her head slowly turned my way and met my smug expression. Her face looked like it was radiating so much heat from the embarrassment that I could cook a three-course meal on it.

“Are…are you serious?”

I nodded, my lips parting to reveal a fanged grin. Ouch, that must have been humiliating.

“You didn’t think to check that first? It could have saved you a lot of effort,” I teased, watching as her face darkened a few shades.

“Don’t question my logic!”

I sat with a knavish grin while she swiped the key from under the mat and jammed it into the key lock. She muttered more things under her breath, jiggling it around until it gave in and clicked to symbolize being unlocked. She used her spare hoof to push on the battered door. It groaned when opening at that of a snail's pace.

Her shadow fell upon the wooden floorboards. I leaned forward to look inside. The windows were withered and yellowed by time. It was a rotting heap, musty, and the air was pungent like it had been soaked in mold. There was a fireplace that was cracked and worn with a gathering of dust bunnies scattered around a woodpile.

Pinkie ventured first with a hesitant step through the door frame. I followed suit, stepping on the spongy floorboards that flexed under my weight. My eyes wandered to the walls that were nearly caved in like a loaf of bread that was prematurely removed from the oven. Ugh…the fumes were ghastly. This place was a biohazard. I was sure the spores I breathed in weren't healthy.

“...Remind me again why we have decided to break into what appears to be a hidden lair.”

Pinkie either didn't hear me or chose to ignore my question. I was dismissed for a while as she broke off to scavenge through the kitchen by ripping open drawers. She rummaged for something, but my attention turned from her.

I stared at the wall. A grandfather clock was tucked neatly within the shadows. It sat upon a bed of flaking paint from the damaged plaster. It reminded me of dandruff. This whole place was disgusting. There was no saving it, and whoever owned this place just needed to burn it. Just dump an entire can of gasoline, chuck in a lighter, blame your crazy ex, and collect the insurance money. Two birds killed with one stone.

Something shrieked, and I jumped about eighty feet. A mouse scurried under my hooves, making me stomp around to try and avoid it.

I heard a giggle behind me. Pinkie continued to gather what appeared to be supplies tucked under her forelimb and elbow.

“It’s just a mouse, he’s probably looking for a cheese wheel. Not going to lie, I’ve been looking for one too. I’m hungry.”

“Why are we here?” I demanded, observing the vermin scamper up the clock and disappear within a chewed hole in the wood. “S-So many diseases are in here. At least forty not counting rabies.”

“Medical supplies,” Pinkie muttered, zoning in on something underneath the kitchen sink. “—And some food, I’m sure whoever lived here wouldn’t mind.”

Medical supplies? If she planned on getting her filthy hooves on my wounds she better not plan on my cooperation.

“Wouldn’t mind you stealing? I doubt it.”

She slapped the cabinet door shut and turned to face me with her hoof still lingering on it. “It’s called borrowing.”

“Hey, whatever helps you sleep at night,” I replied with a light shrug. “Besides, I don’t think anyone is coming back here for a few pieces of gauze and some expired cans of discounted beans.”

I kicked one of the cans that I had found on the ground. It made a loud clank before bouncing off the wall and spinning around aimlessly. I was about to turn away, but something caught my eye. Instead of a sealed can meeting my gaze, I instead was met with a hollowed one. An empty and consumed can of beans.

Mmmm, this didn’t smell right. It had the stench of something fishy around here.

I crouched, falling silent, before nudging the edge with my nose. I could smell something’s scent still lingering on the outside where he had held it. A stallion, young, perhaps not even old enough to grow his first chin hairs. It was fresh. Whoever had eaten this hadn't left that long ago. Maybe they were still— AYGGGGG!

My jaws unhinged in an involuntary screech that rattled the windows!

Out of instinct, I couldn’t help but snap back at whatever had dared to touch a very sensitive wound on my body! I craned my head around to my right side, where an idiotic Ponk still had her hoof planted upon the arrow embedded in my flesh.

I lunged, she didn’t move, but I was able to pull myself out of my blind rage. My teeth clapped right in front of her face, any closer, and I would have had her throat.

She blinked at me without a twinge of fear.

“I’ve gotta get it out, Mena,” She responded flatly. “Ouchies like this get infected, and then they turn into major second-tier ouchies. You do not want it to turn into a third-tier yikesie either, trust me."

I couldn’t promise her safety if she were to be careless enough to touch me again.

“Please refrain from placing your dirty mitts on me! I strongly despise contact. How many times would you like this repeated before you understand?" I warned, reverting my gaze, so she didn't sizzle under my death glare. "—I don't like others touching me. I'm not used to it, nor do I require it. I'll regenerate."

“It’ll be easy! Like yanking out one of those pieces during the game Operation! The only difference is it's crusty, messy, and….A-and…mmgh—" I heard something bubble in her throat, and she pushed a hoof to her lips to keep something from coming out. "Bloody…and really…urrrup…deep in there.”

I wrinkled my nose. “And you expect me to entrust this kind of burden on you?”

“Absotootly!”

Laughable. Indisputably the worst thing I could put my trust in.

I pressed my hoof against her nose.

“No,” I whispered.

So that was why she took up a side job of thievery. I should have fit the puzzle together. I respected her effort, but I didn't need her assistance. For two thousand years I had tended to my own wounds.

Her face twisted up as if she detested my answer. I, again, bent down to investigate the can and ignored Pinkie who had slipped behind my other shoulder. She sat down the gauze and the bottle of over-the-counter hydrogen peroxide. My stomach gurgled. I hesitated for a moment.

Beans…the reminisce of them smelled so…

Right, I hadn't eaten in nineteen years. Real food at least.

“How did you get those wounds, Mena?” She asked, unwrapping the gauze and measuring a certain length. “You’re really hurt.”

My jaw locked. I didn’t like the memories that came with them.

“Do you mean the arrow? Or all of them in general?” I replied.

“All of them,” She answered.

She grew still, her eyes a gentle gaze filled with warm concern.

“Remember when I was talking about Coeus and the Titans? The Titanomachy specifically. Gaia believes you mortals are incapable of keeping the peace, she dislikes how you all are exploiting the planet. Pollution and war are big factors, you don't own this world, you're simply borrowing it." I began, twirling the empty bean container with a stray hoof. "Coeus was born from Gaia, and so he shares the same vision as she does. Titans are mindless drones in the presence of Mother Earth, few have their own opinions. A long time ago, I didn't know about Titans. I trusted him."

She cocked her head while engrossed in my story. “He…did this to you?”

I shook my head. "No, not all of them, the little wounds were from your kind. A long time ago, two thousand years to be precise, I lived among a nation where races weren't divided. Our culture was to be accepting. I knew Tirek and Chrysalis during their teenage years, funny enough."

Her eyebrows did a funky dance in amusement. “—Wait. You've lived over two thousand years? You don't look that much older than me! I didn't think the fountain of youth existed, we've gotta tell Rarity. She's been worrying about a gray mane ever since I came to Ponyville!"

I withheld a laugh, but my lips curled into a small smile. “No, the fountain of youth isn’t what I used to become immortal, Pinkie. Demons don’t actually age. Neither do Titans. At the age of sixteen, I went through a metamorphosis once my demonic side consumed the negativity and fear I felt. Just as you witnessed, it gets stronger when fear is involved. It doesn't care who it feeds upon."

I looked at my hoof. There was once a time I had paws. I was knocked unbalanced once Coeus went rogue and destroyed our kingdom. I was the only survivor. Demons are much more resilient to fire. Perhaps he wanted me to live, he couldn’t have possibly been that stupid. He knew what I was. There was no possibility that he could make such a dire mistake. Demons didn’t burn. Not by the Elements, not by fire, not by anything.

She laid her hoof on my shoulder to provide comfort. Once she made contact, I flinched, expecting it to sting. It didn't, and I was ashamed at how I expected it to. No one dared to touch a demon with affection. At least, not with the current memories I had.

“So that thing I saw…that was your demonic half? Why haven’t I seen it before?” She asked, with her voice down several octaves. I had never heard her voice so flat, it was almost pained, “—Is that why you were chained?”

I nodded. "I had to. I grew a hatred for mortals. Yet, you were innocent of these crimes ponykind has done. You've done no harm, but as I said, my demon does not forgive. To prevent myself from hurting you, I chained myself with binds created from black magic. I then fed on your emotions to regenerate and hide from Gaia and Coeus. As long as I was chained, it couldn't escape to harm you. Nor could I."

Her hoof inched higher. “So it wants to eat bad vibes to get all big and muscly, right? You could have told it spinach does the trick, Mama Pie taught me that one. My Pinkie Sense is telling me that might have been the reason you were being a Pinkameanie.”

"Mhmm," I answered, "The more I feed, the stronger my demonic power becomes. If I were to feed on negatives like your despair or anger, I would heal faster. I convinced myself that you would one day side with Gaia, and so, I had a chip on my shoulder before I even truly knew your future intentions. Black Magic is considered evil—for a good reason. It comes from demons and is learnable by every race. You, Twilight, even Discord could harness it if you wish. As long as you know the spells and accept the consequences. That was also the magic used to unseal me."

Pinkie’s hoof was warm. It was soothing to feel another. My wounds ached, and my memories of them stung once again. I was still a teen. I could live for ten thousand more years, twenty even. It wouldn't change that I hadn't experienced adulthood. How could you learn to be an adult if you were never given a chance? I was sent to war when I was sixteen. Alone.

“...So to understand, you get more powerful when I start feeling down?”

"Yes," I agreed, "—I…I didn't know what else to do to heal or to hide. When I was sixteen, my home Everglade was demolished by Coeus. We were both adopted by the king, who had pity on us. Coeus wished to dominate, and I wished to keep the peace. My father spoke to me about his nature of destruction. My brother highly disagreed with his claims, even went as far as to deny them openly and call my father a liar. I should have listened to him...perhaps the denial of the throne was the motive for his actions. I would have never seen his hate become a weapon. I was torn between my father and Coeus' words. Both far too convincing."

I felt her stroke the tender flesh that had throbbed for two millennia. They were wounds that were still healing from that awful war. Her emotions did heal me to a degree, but not enough to fully recover.

I continued, "he left Everglade one early morning. I didn't stop him. I was…saddened when he left. If he felt his destiny was not with us, I had no reason to demand him to stay. As I watched him disappear over the hill, I mourned him. I considered him a brother, but I didn't know…I didn't know he left to destroy us all. Gaia had gotten to him like every Titan born from Mother Earth. The Golden Age was all she cared about, and now that burden is on her son. She convinced him that with me here, the Age of Titans couldn't be revived."

She was right. As long as I fought, Titans would not roam free on this planet. For the remaining time I lived, Coeus and Gaia were threatened. I was foolish, I trusted him because he was family. It was a blind trust the young have, for why would someone you love and look up to, want to harm you? No child would ever be prepared for that harsh lesson of reality.

My stare was heavily focused onto the uneven floorboards as Pinkie spoke, “—Mena… what is Coeus here to do?”

There was a knot in her throat, I could hear it in her voice. She was trembling and I could smell something seeping off of her. It was a sweet aroma that beckoned for my attention.

𝕱𝖊𝖆𝖗

My lip curled. My mouth was salivating, I was so badly starving.

“You need to listen to me very carefully, Pinkie." I forewarned, while my stomach expressed its eagerness to slate its hunger with a growl. "I understand you don't know much of what's going on, nor do I. I've been playing a lot of this by ear, but I can say that in the presence of a starved demon, you cannot show fear. I'm weak, and my control over my urges aren't as stable as they used to be."

Demons didn’t feed much on emotions for nutrition, but the flesh of who it belonged to was a very desired treat. Imagine drizzling some ketchup on fries. Most ponies wouldn't find straight-up ketchup as a full meal, but adding it to other foods made it much more appealing. The fries by themselves are fine, but with that condiment…they were two peas in a pod. This wasn't any different. You could say that fear was just a sauce to make a meal more desirable.

I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder. My teeth clamped on my tongue from the sudden feeling I was unprepared for. I lurched forward with bristling fur!

“AUAGH!” I wailed, chomping down on a hoof to prevent my screams of agony from shaking the cottage like booming thunder. “Wha…mmghr!”

I could hardly speak from the wind being knocked out of me. It felt like a gut punch, which was so sharp, it summoned a tear in one eye. It hurt, it hurt so bad!

I turned to Pinkie, my eyes bulging when seeing an arrowhead lodged within silver kitchen tongs. Her lips were pale, and her teeth were clenched behind her lips. She looked like she really regretted that decision.

“Pinkamena, I had to get it out.”

I was going to go for the throat in about three seconds. It took every ounce of my willpower to not maul the pony in front of me. I knew she was trying to help, but that was completely uncalled for! I groaned back my urge in a heavy sigh, one of those sighs that was more of a snarl than an exhale.

I bit my tongue too. I didn’t like that metallic taste whenever it happened.

“You…You are horrible!” I shrieked, slapping a hoof over the pulsating wound. “You can’t just do things like that, Pinkie! What’s wrong with you?!”

She cautiously put down the tongs. She then shot her hooves into the air as if to tell me nothing else was up her sleeve.

“You need medical help, bad. I’m dead serious, you’re hurt and I’m worried!”

I opened my mouth to say something, but I only huffed as I stood up. I needed to remove myself before things got out of control. My temper was unusually high to the point of danger, and Pinkie was right in the middle of the storm.

I was blundering toward the door, unable to see straight from my dizziness. I fumbled around for the doorknob before pushing the busted door open. I nearly fell on my chin when forgetting to step over the tiny concrete step at the entrance.

I could hear Pinkie Pie’s steps behind me. “You won’t go to the hospital! My only other option was to look for medical supplies, that’s why I came here! Mena…Mena!”

The second time she called my name was much more stern. I didn’t know where in the name of the Gods I was going, but I wasn't staying here. Something was trailing after me. I could hear Pinkie’s hooves squish in the tilled dirt.

I did not trust Pinkie. Not with personal space, not with secrets, not with my wounds—not with anything! I was being courteous by explaining my side before the war raged on, but she could fend for herself!

No…No, I was being careless. I wasn't that ruthless, Pinkie wasn't a pawn on a chessboard. I took a moment to breathe in the crisp air. She needed to stay with me. I had to swallow my pride and go back. I had to.

I slowed down to a normal walking pace before stopping and letting her catch up. She panted, half the gauze roll fluttering in the wind as she came up to my side.

"Please—" She wheezed, "—Please don't run. I haven't run this fast since the ice-cream cart slapped a warning sign about not giving me free samples. Apparently, taking more than fifteen is against the rules…hah…when I came back for another, they ran faster than you."

I didn’t respond and instead just leveled my glare.

“What," She whined, "I had to taste all the flavors before choosing one to buy! Now can we please go back inside? I’ll be gentle, you won’t feel anything else okie? If you do, I’ll tell you my most ticklish spot and you can torment me with it. Deal?”

She had a way with humor. I’d give her that.

"You've exhausted me," I replied.

"Good, then that means we can take a little power nap. Sound reasonable? I've held off my sugar crash for three hours now."

I mumbled, but it wasn't anything other than a few jumbled curses. I wasn't going to go back into that house that smelled of rotting fruit peels, you couldn't threaten me enough to do so. I gave Pinkie a side-eye before turning and stomping toward the barn. A barn wouldn't be much better. However, I did like the feel of hay as long as it hadn't been sitting in rainwater.

I touched the door that was littered with jagged splinters. I could smell the stale air from inside even before I pushed open the double door. It creaked, the hinges screeching as if something hadn't demanded them to move in ages. Darkness greeted me, and the only life within it happened to be old webs from the residents that currently lived there.

Spiders…I hated spiders.

I shivered but walked inside. A limp and unlit lantern swung from the wind that had pushed past me. It rattled against the wall before I unhooked it from its position.

I touched the wick and a small flame was born.

“Witchcraft!” Pinkie accused from behind me.

I sighed, "Pinkie, I'm a demon, and we are quite literally created from fire.”

"Pfft, I knew that,” She hummed. Her hooves scuffed against the wooden flooring as she surveyed the area. “That’s how you lit those sticks so fast back in the cave. Witchcraft is cool, I wish I could shoot fire from my hoof. Unfair advantage.”

I found a small table next to a large stack of hay and tossed the lantern onto it, lazily. The flame jumped and jerked from my movement before growing still. I sat beside it while tucking my tail underneath me. I guess I needed to think of a game plan. Gaia probably knew exactly where I was and would send someone soon. Not good.

I heard overly loud chewing sounds behind me. I broadened my gaze and caught Pinkie on her hind legs nipping at the haystacks.

“Pinkie, no! You don’t know where that’s been!”

She froze mid-chew. Her head slowly turned to me with a sheepish grin that caused some of the straw to fall from her mouth.

She swallowed, “hay is for horses! Ponies like hay, I like hay, this is free hay!”

"Get over here and sit down. For five minutes could you just sit still?!" I pleaded, observing her lip-sync my words mockingly.

Her medical supplies were set in a neat pile near a pitchfork and a shovel. Unfortunately for me, her hunger did not make her forget her original mission.

“Alright, time for those wounds to get all snug like a bug in a rug, kay? Just gonna wrap this around your shoulder nice and tight—”

“No!”

She jumped at my outburst. Eventually, her startled expression started to smolder into what appeared to be frustration.

“Why are you so stubborn? We’ve gotten this far!”

She stamped a hoof. My muzzle mirrored her defiant expression.

“In case you haven’t been listening, I am fighting an unwanted war against Titans and your kind. I apologize for the circus that I threw at you, truly I am," I said with sincerity. I was desperate to keep Coeus and mortals separate, but the scars were still fresh. "—But that doesn't change what happened and what will happen. You know Celestia is hunting me, and soon, so will The Elements of Harmony. You will be hunting me.”

I could see her swallow a painful lump. I pricked her a little and it had bled. This was business. We were not friends and we were not allies. It wasn't possible for the time being.

"Please don't group me with everypony else," she said softly. Her expression was crestfallen and somber while her eyes fled behind a fragment of her mane. "—I may be an Element of Harmony but I'm also your friend. I'm not going to abandon you all willy-nilly because there are some bad rumors. I know what I experienced, and I know who you are, you don’t want to be The Devourer. I saw it.”

My anger dissolved when her glossy eyes met mine. It was hard to be guarded when she was so openly vulnerable. I knew she was sincere in her head but I could not give her the trust she desired.

"You're right," I said gently. "That was an unnecessary outburst. I'm sorry. I'm confused and angry—"

I stopped. Great. Now I was unraveling a little. I was so lost. I didn’t mean to scream or to be so on edge. She was making an effort to understand. That was more than enough to have some more faith in her. Perhaps she could vouch for me, but Celestia wouldn’t be a listening ear even if Pinkie spoke on my behalf.

I felt a reassuring hoof on my shoulder. She had joined my side to provide support even though I had given her the cold shoulder a minute ago. Pinkie Pie was a very forgiving pony and much more than I deserved.

“Tell me what happened,” she coaxed.

The gauze was in her hoof, but she didn’t intrude like she did last time. There was a deep plea quivering in her eyes. She wanted to help and was worried. It wouldn’t be the end of the world to swallow my pride and allow her this one thing.

I lifted my forelimb so she could tend to the wound. She sparkled, nearly illuminating the barn with her gratitude.

“When I spoke of the Titanomachy, The Golden Age, I was referring to the ancient war between the Gods and Titans. Yet, I’ve known about a second. Gaia wants to overthrow the Gods and what she’s created. More specifically, mortals.”

Pinkie was ginger when patting in the rubbing alcohol. "So, Coeus is here to overthrow us?"

“Yes, but you’re not what he’s worried about. No mortal could hope to challenge a Titan. It would be…madness in polite terms. I was a vengeful teenager who just lost her family—and I paid dearly for it when I tried to take him down myself even at his weakest.”

“That’s after he destroyed Everglade, isn’t it?”

I could hardly hear her. She was heavily focused on her work and obviously not wanting to listen. I didn’t blame her, war was a disturbing topic.

"Yes. He…annihilated everyone there—" I choked, two thousand years, and this still held a bleeding spot in my heart. "—Coeus, caused my demonic side to feed on my despair. I had never known about this dormant evil until I became unbalanced, and my mortal side couldn't fight against it. I went through a heavy change throughout the next three years on my own. I fought as much as I could, but I lost against it."

“...That’s how you became immortal, right?’

“More or less. My aging stopped at nineteen, three years after the metamorphosis took place. I couldn’t control my actions at that point, my memory is foggy during those years, but I remember…pain. Arrows, spears, cannons…and the sharp smell of smoke. Some hit me, others missed, I ran and fought. I grew angrier, frenzied, and because of it, I became more powerful. Yet less mortal.”

Pinkie poured a thick jelly-like glob into her hoof before smearing it into the ripped flesh. "That thing that had all that black goo...was that how it acted and what it looks like?"

I gave a small and dry laugh. “Yeah, it’s quite easy to jump on the demon-hating bandwagon when something like that is attached to me. That’s why Celestia became easily convinced that Everglade was a nation of devil-worshippers. The Elements of Harmony are meant to keep peace and… well, harmony. So Coeus went from my kingdom to hers, before lying through his teeth about what was truly going on.”

“Oh,” Pinkie deflated a little. “...He used the Elements to…hurt you…that’s what happened to you…isn’t it.”

She didn't ask a question. I couldn't tell if she was upset about what he did or that she felt she was somewhat a part of it. The Elements were connected to those artifacts, whether or not they wanted to be. In a way, Coeus and his sins were on her shoulders. She bore the burden of vanquishing evils as long as she carried the name 'Element of Laughter.’ Celestia may feel differently, but I was never evil.

Neither were the civilians in Everglade. Souls were sacrificed for my head and I would carry that guilt for the rest of my immortal life. Now Pinkie shared some of that weight.

“I-I’m—” Her voice was hoarse and raspy. She had stopped tying the cloth around my shoulder and was instead biting her lip raw. “—I’m so sorry! I’d never do something like that. If you worry that I’ll do the same as Coeus, you’re wrong! The Elements of Harmony aren’t that way, we don’t do that!”

"I know you feel that way," I whispered hesitantly. I really didn't know how to say this to her, and I had to be selective with my next words. "—But you and your friends belong to Gaia. She has been with you from your very first adventure. Pinkie, power like the Elements doesn’t happen from thin air. It can turn immortal deities into stone, crumble nations into dust, or even tear demons apart from the inside like Stygian. You have the borrowed power of a Titan.”

“You have to believe me! My friends wouldn’t ever stand for—”

“Destroying an evil? A sin? An enemy of Equestria? Pinkie, I am your enemy. I had planned since day one that this would end in a battle. I don’t wish to harm anyone, but Coeus is not someone I can let walk away. Gaia will evict your race from this planet and I don’t mean with a notice. You’ll be blown into next week to make way for the second Golden Age. She’s insane, she’s nuts!”

I clamped my hooves around my skull, knocking over the bottle of medical alcohol Pinkie had sat on the table. I shouldn’t be talking about this, all of it was crazy, and it gave me a head-splitting migraine. I feared Gaia, and I feared Titans, I was just one demon! At the end of the day, Pinkie was an ELEMENT! What was I doing? She followed the Tree of Harmony, and she loved her friends! I couldn’t ask her to turn on them, she’d never believe me! Coeus was HERE. To slay me. I had a day, hours...to hatch a plan. Nineteen years of attempting to heal and I was still a mess!

“¥ðµ £êêl ï†, Ðð ¥ðµ ñð†? †hê mðr†ål §êêk§ ¥ðµr hêåÐ," The demon grumbled.

Pinkie latched onto my forelimb, but her voice was so far away. Shut up, everyone needed to shut up! My other half deserved to speak, least!

“Mena, listen to me!” She begged, but I couldn’t feel her anymore. All I could feel was—

𝕱𝖊𝖆𝖗.

It was taking over once more. I was dreadfully weak. I could feel it feeding...on me.

"Kïll †hê Èlêmêñ†. ¥ðµ kñðw §hê wïll †µrñ. †hê †ï†åñ ¢ðmê§. Gåïå hêår§. Wê håvê lï††lê †ïmê."

“I Pinkie Promise, I won’t harm you!” She persuaded, her voice was shrill to the point it reverberated throughout my head. It silenced even the demon.

She was panting. A glossy shine had applied itself to her cheeks and forehead. The little curl at the end of her mane was limp. Her hoof was dampened by a darkened mass stuck to my body. Pinkie had caught my attention enough to halt whatever emotions had prevented her voice from reaching me. A moment longer and I would have been lost.

The strings of goo clung onto her hoof for dear life. She grabbed as much as she could with both hooves before yanking it off. It gave way. My eyes were swollen. I...I didn't even know it had taken over that fast. Inflamed whelps were on my pelt, where I assumed it had stuck to with the strength of suction cups. Pinkie had been clawing it off for who knows how long. Her own forelimb was infected with the writhing mass. She was heaving. It dribbled down onto the floor before bursting into dust. She flung the rest off with quick and spasmodic jerks of her hooves. It vanished when it hit the wood beneath her. I could almost hear the demon snarl when it did.

"...I...heh...P...Pinkie Promise," She repeated in a thin and winded grunt. She slashed a hoof across her chest before weakly pressing a hoof against her eye. “—But you have to promise something as well. You have to Mena.”

I remained still, mostly shocked, and unable to register what was happening.

She continued, “You have to promise you’ll make an effort to avoid a fight. I’ll help you, but they are still my friends even if they won’t understand. Please don’t hurt them, they won’t understand that you and The Devourer are two different ponies…they’ll fight out of fear.”

There was a shining trail down her cheek like a transparent ribbon. Pinkie had just sworn off harming me. I…I didn’t know how to respond to it. It was such a foolhardy thing to do! Pinkie had a different opinion about me from the time we spent together, but refusing to use her Element against a demon was suicidal!

—Although, I dearly respected it.

There was quite a large gap between my distrust and Pinkie now. Split right down the middle. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn't going to block a volley of arrows for her just yet, but I’d toss a shield her way.

“....Okay.”

She looked back up to me with a glint of hope sparkling in her eyes. She had already recovered from the tears which had slipped. I looked at my flank. Not a drop of the demon's presence remained. Pinkie's war with it had injured its pride. Twice now, she helped me beat it back. Maybe...maybe I did need her.

“—But Pinkie, you do realize Gaia is the Tree of Harmony. If you help me, you will be an enemy as well. Coeus is dangerous, and I can't promise things won't get grizzly."

“Should…should we make a plan?”

I hissed a breath through my teeth. “I’ll be gravely honest, I did not think I’d get this far.”

"So, in other words, we're going against a Titan who wants to eliminate us all? As well as a two-faced Tree of Harmony using my friends as sock puppets? Wowie… heh… this is definitely going to be a story to share next Nightmare Night. Limestone is so going down this year.”

Limestone! That was a name that was sweet but bitter.

"Pinkie, this is going to sound a little… odd—"

“I don’t think anything else can top what has been said,” she giggled.

I was glad to see some color return to her face. It had been quite a dark evening. I was thankful for anything that could distract me from what just happened.

"Remember that…wyrm…that was at the Gala?" I hinted, rolling my hoof outward to try and help her along. I didn't really want to explain since the silence of her sisters had hit her pretty hard. Pinkie's face was blank, and so I had to continue, "—Remember when we talked about how Coeus used the Elements to severely damage me? Have you ever wondered why your childhood rock farm was so barren?"

She deadpanned. “It’s a quarry. They aren’t super luxurious, believe me.”

"Okay, yes, but no.”

“—Rock farms have nothing to do. Barren is putting it softly. Do you know how many friends I had back then? None! No pony wants to live there! It was so lone—”

I clamped my hooves softly over her muzzle.

"It's barren because that was the spot I was hit by the Elements and banished under Equestria to live like a feral rat. It slaughtered all life within a twenty-mile radius and buried me under a mountain of rocks. Two millennia went by.”

“Twuh mlina?” She asked through a funny form of ventriloquism. I kept my hooves over her mouth while nodding.

“Yes, two thousand years," I confirmed, loosening my grip so that Pinkie could gasp without losing oxygen. "He believed that would kill me, but using that much power in one shot exhausted him. I believe that's why he has been gone so long. I'm not sure how I survived, but I can safely say I had help. I'm not the only demon here, Pinkie. Longro, the wyrm you saw, or Beelzebub in the mortal tongue was with me. I don't remember how he got there, but when my demonic side was beaten back to submission by that blast, I regained my own body back. I peered up, and his eyes met mine."

Longro was what you could call a real demon. A gluttonous creature that devoured whatever he found. Ponies feared him, Celestia feared him, all because to him, they were considered prey. He did not fight for justice, he fought for power and hunger. Exactly like my own demonic side, they took for themselves. Longro was never satisfied, but he obeyed my word.

“Longro hammered away at the seal that kept us there. On the other side, settlers plowed away from the outside. Coeus had buried us under minerals, materials natives chipped away at for centuries. It weakened the seal, and the magic was worn away by time. Eventually, those settlers passed, new ones came in, the veins dimmed, and the miners faded. I outlived the magic.” I explained, letting my hooves fall from her mouth. “Your family was one of the only ones who remained after two thousand years of miners. Limestone was the final tap that collapsed the seal.”

“She found you?”

“Maud and Limestone did." I added, "They were hospitable. Even as children, they showed empathy as you do. Before you were…um...born—”

I put quotations into the air with two hooves, she squinted but dismissed it. That was a long and complicated story for another time.

“—They were the only ponies I semi-trusted. I told them my story and they agreed to help. Of course not without a fee. Limestone took a liking to Longro, and since he can burrow, she traded her secrecy and assistance for work hours. She was like…five, and I didn’t want to draw attention so I agreed. I knew Longro wouldn’t emerge from underground without a valid reason, and I let them do as they pleased. They fed me, cared for me, they ignited a small flame that went out a while ago. I had gone so long being angry and hateful....that I had forgotten kindness. They were the first to hear my side. I didn’t think they’d remember me after all this time. I expected Longro and I to fade from their memory.”

Pinkie beamed, "yep, that's my sister! Even at such a young age, she makes our family business proud! I can't believe I wasn't in on this! I could have been a great help!”

Her cheeks swelled, and she puffed her chest in disapproval. I didn't have time to argue about why or why not she wasn't involved. She was required as of now. Therefore, I didn't understand why Pinkie's expression was as sour as spoiled milk.

“We need to find your sisters because at least they’re allies.”

Pinkie saluted me. “Tin fork, Pinkamena.”

I wrapped a hoof around a can of beans on the table. “It’s ten-four, not tin fork.”

"Okay, this time, I'm positive that it’s tin fork!”

My hoof applied pressure around the can, and the lid popped off. My eyes remained leveled with hers and my expression lacked emotion. The lid clattered onto the wooden floor near her hooves and she shrunk in her skin.

“Or..Or it’s ten-four like you said.”

Speaking of forks, how was I going to eat this? I removed my stare from her and peered into the goopy mess of baked beans. What was with this pony and their large collection of canned foods? Oh well, I wouldn’t complain about any meal at this point.

I lashed my tongue into the can and flicked it against the mass. I smacked my lips after sampling the taste. Seasoned, slightly spicy…it’ll do.

I lapped up mouth fulls while Pinkie awkwardly rubbed the back of her head. She opened her mouth to address me but withered under my gaze.

I wasn't sharing.

I was so hungry. A pony could go days without eating before sinking their teeth in a stale slice of bread and devour it as if it were chef's kiss quality. Starvation convinced you that something tasted a million times better than what it was. Old room temperature beans had never been so appealing.

“Mena… may I?—”

I snarled, my muzzle wrinkling even though it was buried halfway down the can’s opening.

“—Nevermind!” She squealed, shuffling away from the table.

My fangs gnawed on the can's outer surface, denting it. She avoided eye contact. Wise of her to do so since demons were food aggressive. I couldn't help it, alright? I wasn't born this way, I just so happened to be overtaken with more animalistic reactions. It happened when you fused with your demon side at a young age without knowing how to control it.

I heard something fumble from outside. I stopped my sloppy eating for a second to zone in on the sound. Pinkie's senses weren't as heightened as mine, and so she continued to dwell in her thoughts as if she didn't catch it. I pulled my muzzle from the can before gently setting it down on the table. My nose twitched, and I caught Pinkie studying my sudden reaction.

She dropped lower and copied my alarming movement.

“What is it?” She asked, her voice hushed.

I put a hoof directed at her to my lips before giving a silent cue.

I could smell another. A young stallion, I predicted. It was indeed the same one I caught a whiff of back inside the cottage. It appeared he wasn't alarmed. His steps were lax, not hurried, or too spread out as if he were sneaking. I could hear him mumble, the volume of his mutters growing sharper and clearer as if he were coming closer.

Great. It never went well when a civilian laid their eyes on a demon for the first time. Normally, the story went the same way. I got caught sticking my nose in things I shouldn't and then stabbed by pitchforks. Every single time. They always go for the torch or the giant farming fork! I could smell it on him. Definitely a 'grab your pitchforks and slay the demon’ kind of guy.

There was another stumble outside the closed doors.

"Dagnabbit, stupid crumblin' mess being a thorn in my side." A voice cursed before I heard something fiddle with the door handle.

Pinkie's ears were sharply perked, and her eyes were visibly growing wider.

“Code red, code red! Our cover has been blown, to the haystacks!"

I opened my mouth to say something, but she had already fled like a mouse in the presence of a tabby. She dug into a large dump of straw before tucking herself into a small burrow inside it. It shifted and writhed before growing still. I wrinkled my nose, there was no way in hell I was hiding in a musty heap of—

The door groaned, and a silhouette appeared within the spotlight of moonbeam.

I rested my hoof upon the table. He lumbered inside, brushing dust from his leather vest, before peering up to meet me.

The little reed in between his teeth dropped from his lips.

My eyes narrowed. He was quivering in his little boots. I wasn't going to hurt him, but I knew how this was going to go down. If a pony felt cornered, they would buck out of instinct to defend themselves, meaning they would fight. It didn't matter if it were a dragon, hydra, or even a hellspawn.

I could hear his jaw clench and his heart quicken.

“What in the corn-shuckin’ field are you? Look at ‘em wings and—”

I stood up, and I saw his throat tighten along with his stance.

“—And… I…Gods yer some kind of monster!”

I put up a hoof. “Listen, I won’t hurt you. I know what I am and know how you are feeling. Just....listen.”

Wow, I had no idea a pony could be soaked in sweat in a matter of seconds. It wasn't every day one stood in the presence of a demon. Props.

“...I don’t like those teeth, they got a nasty hunger to ‘em. You ain’t part of them other races, you’re…you’re…uh—”

Here we go.

He looked toward the raided can of beans. “—You’re a damn thief!”

His fear immediately melted into anger, which bled through furrowed brows. I reared back a little when he approached me without any preparation. He didn't even hesitate in arming himself to the teeth so he could attack.

He swung it around like a baton in a parade before flipping the edge toward me.

I lowered my gaze to look at the sharpened points aimed at my chest. I knew he was a pitchfork guy. Two thousand years and they still haven’t learned to use something else.

I sighed. “What a plot twist, a demon and a stallion can’t sit down and have a conversation without rattling sticks at each other.”

He jabbed it forward to intimidate me. “I don’t care whatcha are. A cow, a pig, or a pretty little succubus. Ima teach you a lesson ‘bout stealin’ from hard workin’ folk.”

I was choosing to overlook that insult.

My expression was lazy and spiced with a little bit of sarcasm. “So to do that you’re going to try and stab a demon? You don’t think that hasn't been done before?”

Pinkie’s hideout shifted. I saw a shadow slip out from behind it before lurking among the shelves. She was looking for something. She had a plan.

I hated it when Pinkie used her brain. It never ended well.

“Darn right I’m gonna poke ya! We don’t allow demons down here in the south!”

Pretty sure we were in the North. Being a country pony didn't always mean their homes were geographically located in the south. I didn't understand the trend with that.

Pinkie had found a shovel resting on a workbench. Her smile was alarming.

Fortunately for Pinkie, I couldn’t let my eyes follow her. I was too busy with the stallion trying to poke a hole in me.

“Say your prayers!”

"Demons happen to be atheists, or at the very least some form of it," I responded waggishly.

Wrinkles appeared in his forehead when his eyebrows tweezed. I could see confusion cloud his eyes. He didn’t know how to respond and it was beautiful. No, I wasn't threatened by this social outcast. I had gone through this so many times it was a comedic act to me.

He charged with his aim targeted toward my poor defenseless heart, oh dear! Pinkie had hustled to try and intervene, but she didn't catch him in time. Without much effort, he was inches away.

He skewered me—the small dagger points colliding with my fur. I kept my stare solemn, but I was quite bored with this recurring witch hunt. Pinkie's mouth was agape, the shovel in her grip lax, as she watched the metal burst into shavings.

The flurry of shattered metal fell upon the flooring. The sound reflected that of small hail flinging against a window.

It broke down to the hilt of the pitchfork where the stump bumped against my chest. I raised an eyebrow. The stallion was appalled.

He swallowed thickly before shakily bringing the broken tool away from me. His eyes were that of dinner plates and shaking within their sockets. I slowly directed my eyes toward the dull stick he was now holding. The metallic splinters on the ground were laid like traps around our hooves, but they didn’t exactly stop my approach.

I carefully placed my hoof around the useless wooden rod. “Yeah, no. You shouldn’t be playing with sharp objects or stabbing them at things you know nothing about. Give it to me.”

I easily removed it from his possession. He didn’t even try to resist.

I gently bonked his head with the edge of it. “I trust you won’t be doing this again. Cleaning up broken pitchforks is quite the pain. It’s like broken glass.”

I tossed the wooden pole onto the ground, where it rattled until it rolled into the shadows. He backed away once I turned around to face him. His rump hit that of a light pink chest blocking his path, and he nearly jumped like a startled calf. Pinkie stood behind him, shovel equipped, and a wide grin sparkling at us both.

“Hi!” She greeted, placing the end of the shovel in her other hoof to secure her grip.

“—And who in tarnation are you?” He asked, his voice sounding like a squeaky tire that desperately needed to be oiled.

“I’m Pinkie Pie!” She chirped.

She then hit him as hard as she could with the shovel.

“Oh my God—” I screeched, as the stallion fell chin-first onto the flooring.

I could have sworn I heard his skull crack. In no way would that not cause a major bruise when he came out of his newly acquired coma. Pinkie rested the handle of the shovel onto the ground as she watched his tongue loll from his mouth.

I placed a hoof over my racing heart. “Pinkie, what the— why would you… what’s wrong with YOU?”

“He’s fiiiiine!” She whined, before resting the shovel against the table. “—He’s just gonna have a nasty bump like in the cartoons. Ya just push it back in when it slowly rises with that whistle sound effect and all is good with the world. Ten out of ten doctors recommend that treatment.”

"Pinkie, I don't think he's breathing. Oh, dear God, he is not okay. You're crazy! Hitting someone that hard will cause swelling and concussions, Ponk!”

I ran a hoof through my mane as I examined the stallion knocked out cold. I could still hear his heart so that was a good sign. A small piece of hay was being pushed from his breath, which confirmed at least he was breathing.

He stirred, rolling his shoulder a little in his slumber.

Pinkie reached for the shovel.

“No! Pinkie, no! No more hitting, go in the corner!”

“But I hate the corner—”

“I don’t care!” I snapped, throwing my hoof toward the darkness. “Go sit and don’t move until I clean up this mess!”

Pinkie’s lip sagged and she pouted. She whispered curses with an embittered glare in the direction to where she was forced to sit in time out.

I exhaled quietly, trying to tie together my last nerves that had been strung thin. As of now, I was officially stuck with Pinkie. I couldn't let her fend for herself since she'd be on the menu to whatever pests lurked outside. She also couldn't wander back to her friends.

I glanced at the swollen lump on the poor sod’s head. I then gathered his legs in a glowing net of magic that secured his body. Well, wasn't this a nice mess I’ve gotten myself into. My demon was stronger than me, Pinkie was absolutely idiotic, her friends would side with Gaia— and now we’ve probably killed an innocent outcast.

I dragged him across the floor behind my wake. I placed him upon a bed of straw and levitated the hat that had been knocked off his head into my hooves. I then gently placed it over his eyes. I tried to give my condolences with a pat, but his unconscious groan told me I didn’t do a good job at avoiding his lump.

There was no way I was ready to face Coeus. Two thousand years had passed since our last battle. This time, however, I had some extra dead weight to lug around.

I glanced at Pinkie who was trying to catch a gnat in the air.

—Make that a lot of useless dead weight.

“...Quajh jheko mefok. Hedinj.”

A rough whisper that had a coarseness matching fragmented rocks cooed over the plains. The body in which it belonged to crackled. It was thick and armored with plating made of scales. They were like blades that coiled against the writhing mass.

“....Jto ij four... to ij fourok.”

The ruddy spines upon its face were revealed with a slashed eye beneath the ridge. It was looking at a patch of flowers misted in dew.

It hummed a growl, and the flowers danced from under its breath. "Yenjaquo hto hihun.”

It plucked a few from the earth between its fangs. Slowly a forked tongue coaxed them the rest of the way into its maw. The wyrm chewed, grinding the plants into a well-marbled paste before swallowing.

“...I can hear the songs from within the flames. An endless pit of hellfire in a symphony of begging souls. Do you hear it?” The wyrm asked, as he turned his eye to an approaching pony.

The opalish mare had a look of boredom. “No, and I don’t care to.”

She had emerged along with a group into the field where the giant hellspawn had coiled around his findings.

“Longro, what are you talking about?” Marble asked, while her older sister Limestone, found a spot to sit under the demon’s shadow.

“—Gaia despises fire. It grows, flourishes, in her world. It is uncaged, no longer trapped within what had hidden it. Do you not feel her very essence dripping with fear?”

He ripped another mouthful of flowers from the grass.

“Why are you eating that? Those are poisonous, you dweeb!” Limestone scolded, clunking the side of her hoof against the oddly arranged scales sliding over each other.

“Wolfsbane,” he explained, “—A potent toxin. I sharpen my scales, I consume the poison of your world, to meet the Titan between heaven and hell.”

“Wait, you don’t mean—” Limestone was interrupted.

“—He comes from the stars, I heard the thunder he sent from above. She comes from underground, I heard the fire emerging from her soul. Gaia trembles in anticipation between the meeting of darkness and light.”

"I have no idea what you mean. You've been out here spewing nonsense for hours. We are going back to the rock farm, you've caused enough headache for me already!" Limestone chastised, slapping his scale once more.

“He means Pinkamena has risen,” Maud announced, without much inflection.

The group was hushed. Her words settled like bubbling nausea. Not one pony or demon happened to break the silence when putting the pieces together. Longro gazed at the pale radiance of the moonlight while the quietness slowly broke.

His otherworldly eyes shimmered under the pale light, “Tok tejh tuj yeppumjox. In your tongue, she has broken the mind of her host. The creatures of hell will meet the divines—” He stopped to glaze the group in his shadow. “—In the battle of Titans.”

Chapter Six

Author's Note

WHEEZE.

Welcome back, everyone. To those that have been here since the beginning, I welcome you. To those that are new, I hope you will stick around.

This took a VERY long time to write. I had written it, deleted it, started from scratch ten times. Yes, ten. Maybe my creative juices were running dry because of life's problems. I have no idea. Was hit with it again after my creativity was frozen for a year. Yes, it is a long chapter, I did so purposefully. You all have waited for a long time. So, it was only right I gave you a large portion to read. This chapter is quite....uhhh...confusing, to say the least. So Chapter Seven will be there for your reading pleasure. Thanks for hanging in there with me. Cheers!

Chapter Six

What was a monster?

Truly, what was it? When someone closed their eyes and their vision became blanketed by darkness, what did their mind create? What materialized in their nightmares?

Did they see a murderer? One with prickled teeth and a malevolent glint within bottomless onyx eyes? Could they see the shine on their cleaver? A rusted crimson dried on the blade?

Or, did they see something that didn’t exist—like beasts? Did it have frothy jaws? Long yellowed claws, poised and scraggly, honed with a chilling sharpness? Could they hear it scratch on their window at night? Or listen to it howl in the wind from behind the forest’s gloom?

Everyone pictured something differently because 'monster' was a relative term, no? What I saw wasn't what others saw. The same can be said for any creature or pony that had an expressive imagination.

So, what was it that I saw? What did a demon hide from?

A murderer? Beast? Was it nothing but a ghost story that had me skittishly peering at my closet at night as a child?

The boggling thing about monsters was that they didn’t see themselves as one. I personally avoided acting as an immoral and callous being. To the mortals, I was what they called a 'monster' because I matched their description. I fit that narrative.

What would you do if the monster looked like you? What should one do when it didn’t have the appearance of one? Picture it well-groomed, charismatic, winsome, with an alluring charm.

Didn’t sound much like a monster, did it? My monster was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He donned a mask with a pre-painted personality.

What if a demon—fairly defined as a monster, tried to warn you of another? Would you listen to it, or would your lips pucker at the sight of it—tart with revulsion? To kill a fiend, you had to know the fiend. To slay a beast, you acted like a beast.

—To defeat a monster, you had to be a monster.

So that was why I was here, in a sense. The world was ugly. The world may be colorful in a physical sense, but I’ve only seen it in black and white. To me, Equestria would always be a ground of tug-of-war. A villain and a hero, tussling among the dirt for all eternity. Warring to claim their ideals.

So, who was it that I feared? What creature was so minacious that I waddled with my tail in-between my legs?

They were called—

Pinkie snored, I groaned in response.

My face was hot, but the barn wasn't humid. It was comfortably insulated, dry, and well protected against the elements. The hay wasn't moldy, which gave me confidence in how tightly it was sealed.

I still felt sticky, however. It was a gross feeling.

Thanks to Pinkie, I had lost my self-reflection. It wasn’t like my hour-long soul search was even leading anywhere important. It was mindless boohooing which didn’t serve any purpose but cause me to pity myself. Misery loved company and I had worn out my stay a long time ago.

My breath caused some straw to bump against the window. It was a beautiful night. I had always found this time peaceful, whereas there was always that one pony that found it ominous. They quickly shooed their fillies and colts indoors and locked their door tight. I had always sought to play in the dark. I craved to run along the endless sky, nipping at fireflies in my wake and retreat back to my childhood nights—

There was another booming snore. Jeeze, it was almost strident in volume! For such a petite-looking creature, she had pipes that could give a bullhorn a run for its money. Honestly, I wasn’t surprised. Pinkie could stand atop a mountain and Ponyville would still plug their ears in fear.

“…No, Mr. Cake, I…mmm…I have no idea how Pumpkin found your secret stash of…cider.”

Ah, the sleep talking. Pinkie’s shenanigans wouldn’t be complete without the mindless gum flapping in the dead of night. I rolled my eyes and slung my elbow on the window seal. I propped my chin up and looked out of the glass numbly. I hadn’t had a wink of sleep, whereas my associate over there had passed out the moment I had mentioned rest. I’d blame the obsessive amount of sugar she crammed in her body wearing out. If a vampire were to bite her, their physician would urge them to diet themselves.

Speaking of Pinkie Pie, what would she think of Coeus? Would she see him as the monster I do? Their meeting was inevitable, and it wasn’t a question of ‘if’ they’d meet. It was a matter of when.

During the years I had spent in Pinkie’s soul I had realized my presence had eaten away at her connection to The Elements. Consider my soul a blockage. I plugged the metaphorical vein of magic that was woven through Pinkie’s spirit. When her friends used the calling of Gaia’s power to reduce their opponents to shadowy stains on the wall—I would constrict it a little tighter. Think of it as a clogged artery. Over time it would get more and more narrow, causing a bit of claustrophobia. I had to work silently. I had to build it up over time so she wouldn't notice. I had to allow the power to flow through, but bits of it. My plan of escape was delicate, or…it was. Pinkie threw me in for a loop by doing the unexpected.

Once I left, and my essence faded, the vein of magic would be clear again to once more absorb what it had missed.

Although temporary, I couldn't risk being caught in the grasp of their magic. The Elements crippled me once before. I struggled with what to do with Pinkie because of this. Once she reunited with her friends, it would be restored. As I had stated before, if she died, the link would be broken. Yet, The Elements had many owners. Celestia, Luna…The Pillars before them. Something told me that even with Pinkie's death, I wouldn't prevent much of anything.

The momentary disruption, however, could save my life. I couldn’t go through with slaying one of The Elements, but I could corrupt it for a time.

I would see my brother soon—no doubt about it. Whether Pinkie's friends would be an obstacle in the upcoming reunion…I couldn't tell you. For now, I was their red herring villain. I played the part while they gorged themselves on his false promises.

“…I can drink responsibly. The…the mint and soda thing…mmm—that…one time. It only happened once.”

I sat there. My lips were pressed tightly and my eyes inflated. How did anyone sleep with her around? How did anyone find peace and quiet? She was quite the spoilsport. Pinkie would never participate in sitting still and listening to the silence—too bland for her taste. I preferred to take a step back from the world at my leisure, but it didn't seem like I had that pleasure anymore.

“…I just want…teensy…taste.”

Quite brave to fall asleep, back turned, with a demon lingering her gaze on you. Especially one that hadn’t eaten a decent meal.

I enjoyed a little dark humor from time to time. I couldn’t share it with anyone, I’d never, but I found it tickling.

In Pinkie's subconscious, I rather enjoyed snickering at the little voice in my head. Now that I thought about it, the voice spoke a lot more than I realized. It created an audible narration to words I read in books and poems. It did the same to thoughts. I never really noticed it until I was alone.

I wondered, did every pony have a voice like I did? Did they notice it? Did they know how important the white noise would be in complete silence?

In my solitude, chained or not, sometimes it was nice to hear another voice other than my own. I'd be so used to being alone when I sneezed, I nearly lost my hearing. I'd forget how loud things could be. So, when I'd see Pinkie's perky ears and refulgent blue eyes, I'd adjust my hearing to take quite the beating.

Pinkie Pie had a curious nature. She was rather jubilant. I had more of a negative mindset. If it were storming, I'd grumble by the fire. If it were Pinkie, she'd dance in the rain.

A gust hit the window, rattling it for a moment. The wooden beams groaned and the branches outside tapped against the roof. I saw Pinkie nuzzle deeper into her nest of straw. I had draped a tarp over her body in case the night dropped in temperature. The stallion who she had clocked upside the head rested within a cow’s pen. During the entire time I had been contemplating, he didn’t stir, not once.

Mortals weren’t a threat to me. I’ve been stabbed, poked, poisoned, I could go on. Truth is, I’ve grown tolerant of them. They feared what they didn’t know. I’ve accepted it for the way it was. I’d never get away from the perennial hatred.

I just couldn’t help but wonder why. They formed opinions about me before even speaking to me. Once they heard the word ‘demon,' their thoughts were written in stone.

So, instead of being afraid of retaliation, I just expected it. I couldn't die by normal means, and their weapons contained as much pain as a hamster bite. Sure, it hurt, but nothing to spill tears over.

Speaking of mortals, what was my next move? I couldn't take refuge in towns or cities. I didn't exactly fit in. Red eyes were a bad omen, and my Cutie Mark definitely didn’t scream ‘approachable,’ either.

My wings gave away my race as well. They're featherless, leathery, scarred, with a wing span that could shadow a pegasus when spread. If not all of those things, my reputation would surely get around real soon.

This war…wasn’t my fault I didn’t start it.

I know…I know, everyone said this when they got caught up in some scandal, but I was telling the truth.

Coeus had provoked an unwanted war. The question was, why? Why was he so threatened by me? He was brawny, insightful, praised by all—I was an edgy teenager kissing mirrors whenever I put my tiara on. What could Gaia and Coeus possibly see in me that could cause such retaliation? There had to be more…something I didn’t see. They were his family as much as they were mine. I refused to believe he did it without some remorse.

The pain…I felt when seeing them burn. I couldn’t help them. Going into war with a Titan wasn't martial bravery. It was a thirst for revenge. It was a grievous desire to know why. To understand why he did this to me. To avenge, to seek answers, and to coax out a second round. Maybe…maybe it was selfish to conceal my vengeance with the promise it was to save everyone else. I had a reason to. I had an excuse!

I grimaced when unexpected wetness appeared. One of these droplets plopped onto the beam I rested upon, shining in the moonlight like a silver coin. My tongue skimmed the tear resting on my dry lips. I flinched.

I dabbed at my eyes with the back of a hoof. There were so many. My walls had been sturdy a minute ago, but you could say the tears mimicked erosion. Eventually, they'd make a crack by chipping away at your walls, and it may take thousands of years, but they'd come out.

Was I still not over the betrayal? Or the deaths? Was two millennia not enough time to grieve?

The tears were drying now. Thankfully, I had enough practice shoving these feelings into a box under lock and key.

I missed them.

“…I’ve never seen you cry like this before.”

The voice was soft, tender, and careful with its approach. I became stone-still, hiding the glossy appearance of my eyes from under my mane. I didn’t know why I was ashamed of my vulnerability, but I hated it.

I could see her below the overhang of the attic. She sat quietly with her tail wrapped around her hooves and her chin tipped up. Even from up where I was, those pale blue eyes probed at me, tugging open the gates I had closed.

Yet, Pinkie wasn't invasive. She was only asking for that key.

"Nothing, don't worry about it." I replied, taking my attention elsewhere with the hope it would make her drop it. "—Just old memories I want to keep suppressed."

Pinkie’s hoof rested on one of the stable doors to try her luck at meeting my eyes.

“I know you don’t really trust me or feel comfortable telling me about it—” She paused for a minute, being choosy about her next words. “—But I don’t want you to be alone when you’re hurting, okay?”

She was candid. There was a peculiar look she had, one that reminded me of a pony trying to solve a jumbled puzzle. Perhaps her attempts were futile at finding the answers, yet, I respected her for trying.

"Sleep, Pinkie," I said in a tone that appeared more as an order than a request. "You've had a rough couple of days. I'll be fine. I just want a little privacy."

"I know you'll be okay. You're a strong pony. I didn't say you wouldn't be," Pinkie whispered in a tone that was strangely brittle as if the words felt awkward to say. "—In the nineteen years I've known you, you've always been secretive. We are in this together now. You don't have to suffer alone. Or in fear."

Her words felt sharp, like fangs. They nipped at me. It took all my strength not to respond like the wounded animal I was and lash out. Pinkie wasn't a threat, yet, I didn’t like her investigating tender wounds that were still fresh.

“...Have you ever seen a Titan?’

“No,” she admitted quietly, drawing closer. “—But by the way you speak of them, I don’t like how they sound.”

Rhetorical question. I knew she hadn't seen one.

"You probably think that they look beastly," I predicted, her head tipped, I had ushered in her attention. "Thought so, but actually, they're quite majestic in terms of appearance. They are the pillars that hold up the universe, after all. Some even say they look like angels."

Her eyes had a curious shine. “…What is Coeus like?”

Hearing his name come from her lips sparked a memory. I hummed while his face drew a vision in my head. Tender eyes, a chiseled jaw, a free-flowing mane draped around his neck and shoulders.

Menacing when he bared his teeth, inviting when he smiled.

"…Depends on the situation. When I got in trouble, and he had to dig me out of my own grave, I remember cowering in his shadow. He was never upset though, he tipped my chin up and gave me the cheekiest smile."

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look up to him back in the day. He was good to me. It was hard to reflect on those times with happiness when I had left those chapters of my life to rot. I was angry at them. I wanted them to gather dust until they were forgotten in the back of my mind.

"…We'd go stargazing…sometimes. He'd keep me there for hours and chew me out for being so reckless. He'd preach the dumbest advice, which he fondly called wisdom. I'd roll my eyes."

My heart quivered. My reflection caught my smile. I didn’t know why I was allowing myself to reminisce. It felt wrong.

"You two seemed to have such a good bond…I don't understand why he'd do this to you." Pinkie whispered, leaning on the stable's gate, making it groan.

I rested my head on the window seal. “Friendships don’t last forever, Pinkie.”

A drop of morning dew plopped in front of the glass from the outside. I watched it flatten before breathing another sigh onto the window. I was surprised that Pinkie Pie didn’t immediately jump into another attempt to take apart my walls brick-by-brick. She just gently swayed her hips back and forth to fill the silence with the gate’s squeaky hinges.

We didn't know each other very well. I wouldn't call her a friend, even though she threw around the title of 'friend' quite generously. Well, actually, that was a bit of a lie. I knew Pinkie inside and out in a literal sense, whereas she didn't even know my favorite color.

The squeaks were picking up in pace. Her eyes kept flicking up to me before fleeing back toward the floor. I knew what she was doing. It was nervous fiddling. When she was bothered, she fiddled with something. She'd rapidly tap her hoof, or she'd start playing with a pencil or batting at a dust bunny on the floor.

I narrowed my eyes. “Is there something—”

“—May I come up?” She interrupted, the gate coming to an abrupt stop while she met my eyes.

No.

I huffed quietly. The last thing I wanted was for her to be up here. She had a tendency to spoil my mood. Not that it was already in good standing, but I didn't need to be in a worse one.

I crossed my forelimbs and raised an eyebrow. She returned fire with a sheepish smile that was enough to make me squirm.

“I don’t want—”

She stopped me again, “—please?”

Her face had suddenly tightened. Maybe it was the color-washed walls and the yellow lantern light, but her face had a paleness. Persistent thing, wasn't she? It was a highly irritating trait of hers.

“I don’t think you can get up here,” I said, gesturing downward to point out the distance between us. “You’d either have to fly, levitate, or at the very least climb up here.”

The attic space didn’t supply many ways up. My hefty wings had lifted me where I was, but Pinkie wasn’t fortunate enough to have my advantage.

Her brow cropped smugly. "No problemo. I've scaled the peaks of Yakyakistan, crawled through the lair of the Sphinx. Well, actually, I jumped into a bubbling pit of green lava—with nothing to go on except for a leap of faith…but dang it, I can do this too!"

I snorted with an eye-roll. "You could have died, you know. If it weren't for the steam eruption, your 'leap of faith’ would have killed you. That was one in a million odds. Lucky duck”

“Not luck—” Pinkie corrected while maneuvering to a few barrels. She gave them a sturdy pat, testing the durability of the material.

She climbed aboard and steadied herself by placing her forehooves on two of them. She then hopped up and grounded her back hooves on a single barrel. They wiggled, a liquid inside sloshing, while she eyed a wooden beam under me.

I looked at her, I looked at the beam, and then the very, very, very far distance between us.

Her eyes squinted. Her rump wiggled like that of a stalking kitten waiting to pounce.

Wait a minute.

“—It’s just a leap of faith,” Pinkie finished.

Before I could even protest, her body was airborne. She had the finesse of a spring. Her limbs flailed before her chest bumped against the beam with a muffled thud. She made a cry of discomfort as I listened to her back hooves scratch against the wood. Her tail hung limply below her while she tried to scramble up more upper body strength. She clenched her teeth, once more creating scuffling noises, before growing lax.

She blew a raspberry. Pinkie then grunted one final time in hopes of pulling herself up. She did not.

Her ears bent back while she peered up at me, “I’m stuck.”

“So it seems,” I replied.

"Don't help me. I've got this."

“Wasn’t gonna.”

I drew circles with the tip of my hoof while I observed her kick and struggle to gain leverage. I had noticed that her wrists were turning white. Eventually, her hooves would start slipping, no doubt.

I watched them slide toward their owner’s oblivious chin. It wouldn’t be long until she fell.

“You’re going to fall,” I warned, drowsily covering my mouth when I felt a yawn. “It’s too early for this, Pinkie.”

"Nope. I almost got it. Trust me, I can totally climb this. Watch, one, two, three—" She grunted, the cords in her neck strained before she relaxed with vigorous panting. "That was my warm-up. Okay, okay…watch this—"

I slowly untucked myself out from my perch. Uuuuuugh I was going to have to help her, wasn't I? I swear you couldn't let Pinkie do anything without taking drastic measures to ensure she wouldn't kill herself. She couldn't even be trusted to swim in waist-deep water without floaties.

I approached and was careful to avoid the rotting gaps in the plywood. I stopped in front of her, face neutral, while I slipped a hoof behind her midback in readiness.

I didn't touch her, but it was there.

"Third time's the charm, okay, up and over—" I watched her back hooves dangle and scratch at the empty air. I silently chastised her attempts with another eye-roll before she suddenly looked back up and nearly brushed my muzzle. She cocked her head, "oooo, your eyes are sparkly."

She fell.

I released magic from the pit of my hoof. It snatched her mid-air and held her firmly in place. She threw her head over each shoulder while the cloud of magic fizzled around her waist. No, I wasn’t going to let her fall. I wasn’t a psychopath.

Her head moved at a snail’s pace to once more look at me. “Okay…I maaaay have overestimated my abilities a bit.”

“Mhmm, what did you learn?” I asked with a bit of tease in my voice, twirling her around by spinning my hoof in a circle.

She giggled, throwing up her forelimbs in the air as if she were on a coaster. Pinkie then gave me her familiar smile of unrestrained mirth, a grin ear to ear. It looked ridiculous, cartoonish, but it only fit on her. It was infectious and ignited a giggle in me. A small one, but a giggle.

I laid on my stomach, resting my cheek in an open hoof not occupied by magic.

Pinkie tapped her chin and pursed her lips. “That you’ll always be here to catch me when I fall, right?”

“No,” I said as her face twisted into a disappointed frown.

I levitated her above the beam where I was before plopping her down. A firework of hay flared into the air from her impact before gently raining toward the first floor below. Pinkie scrunched her nose, sneezed, and then sniveled when rubbing her muzzle.

“I only ask that you respect my personal space,” I said while lightly brushing off a plank of wood and gesturing toward it. “Can get chilly up here. Might want to wrap up in the hay.”

There was often a draft that would whisk through your pelt. I had quite a thick coat of fur to keep me warm, along with a belly full of hellfire. Yet, it still caused me to shiver.

She nestled into a nest of hay and wiggled her shoulders. Curling a tail around her haunches, she rested a chin on her forelimb and breathed a sigh.

The silence lasted only a few seconds. "Mena, what's that Cutie Mark on your flank mean? Kinda spooky looking."

"Hmm?" I responded, glancing at it thoroughly before replying, "I'm not sure. It changes from time to time. Sometimes the balance scale is leveled. Other times it's not."

My Cutie Mark was peculiar. It had a rustic gold balance scale with a leaning sword resting on both plates. Three skulls perched themselves on both edges of the scale, with a soulless skull gazing out into the world in the middle. Its sullen eyes were pits of black, lifeless.

“Your Cutie Mark moves?” Pinkie questioned, a peak of interest shining in her eyes while I passed by. “I’ve never heard of that before. How long has it been doing that?”

“My whole life?” I guessed, slumping back onto the window seal where my muzzle met the cold glass. “All I know is that it’s situational. It moves depending on what’s happening.”

“Liiiiiiike,” Pinkie dragged, rolling her hoof.

I forcefully exhaled through my nose. A puff of smoke fogged my reflection for a mere second before I brought my attention toward the moon. Beautiful night, gorgeous stars, a healthy breeze ruffling the trees—

“—Mena?” Pinkie said, not exactly getting the hint.

I didn’t want to answer her question. I wanted to sit here and stew until my bones crumbled to dust. I didn’t want to jog down memory lane and be reminded about when my mark had changed.

“Hey Pinkie,” I called, adopting a chipper tone. “Would you like to play a game with me?”

“Would I ever!”

I gave her a side grin, “it’s called ‘see who can be quiet the longest.’ I’m a champion at it.”

She playfully rolled her eyes, “that’s the most boring game in the book, Mena. You’ve gotta open up to me sometime, but it’s okay, keep your secrets. I’ve got to warn you though, I have a very persistent personality.”

"That I know," I responded, "It's not a secret per se. I would just rather not talk about something so…depressing."

The lantern’s flame glittered in her eyes. She tucked her hoof into her chest before her expression became crestfallen.

I gritted my teeth, “no!”

She jumped, “Wha—”

“Don’t pity me, don’t give me that look. I hate it!”

Her voice softened, “Mena—”

"—Stop. I'm fine. It happened. It's over."

“It doesn’t seem over. You’re still in a lot of pain,” Pinkie reassured, once more giving me that irksome gaze. “Look at you, Mena. You’re hurting all over. You’ve got ouchies inside and outside.”

My shoulder rubbed up against the window’s frame in discomfort, “they’ll heal.”

“Not if you won’t let them.”

"I regenerate just fine. In a few weeks, my wounds will be good as new. I appreciate the concern, but I'm okay Pinkie."

I hated when she cross-examined me. She kept trying to dig into me when she already hit bedrock. She couldn’t go any deeper. All I wanted was some peace and quiet. That’s all I wanted.

I turned from her. Within the glass, my eyes added a red blush to the transparent frame. I’ve always hated my eyes. So menacing, frightening…evil. No one knew how hard it was to play hide and seek in the dark as a child when your eyes sliced through the pitch-black like a flashlight. No one ever wanted to play with me. Stupid demonic—

I heard something fumble from behind me. I gently closed my eyelids in silent prayer. I hoped it wasn't Pinkie bursting my personal bubble again. I'd be a fool to assume she was leaving. No, obviously, she wasn't done picking at the scraps.

There was the dreaded contact I loathed. A soft shoulder nudging my own, a warmth spreading over my side that made my skin crawl. I could feel Pinkie’s mane brush my wings while she unfurled herself beside me.

I turned to give her a stink eye.

Pinkie Pie sat, stoic, with hardly any space between us to allow static.

“Can you not? Please?” I asked with a bit of a beg.

"You're hurting," she repeated a little sternly.

“I’m. Fine. Pinkie,” I empathized, throwing out my hoof with more theatrics than intended. “I really don’t understand why you can’t grasp that I’m okay. It’s just a flesh wound.”

“I’m not talking about the arrow and stuff in your shoulder anymore,” she responded in a voice so low it could be considered a mutter. “I mean you’re hurting….in here.”

She reached out, and a crease appeared in her wrist. She then tenderly brushed it against my chest with a bit of hesitation before finding her bullseye. Her hoof rested directly above my heart. I could feel its beat pick up in pace.

I looked downward. I was frozen. She had the gall to deliberately ignore everything I had ever asked of her. My anger was so physical if I were clutching a table, it would rattle. She kept touching me! Why did she have to keep pestering me?

I hated being touched. Yet, she just kept doing it. I was fine…I didn’t need sympathy…I—

—I really didn't want to swallow the truth, did I?

No matter how many times she flinched from my sharp movements, she didn't dare move her hoof. Was this adrenaline? Or was I truly collapsing inward, my body begging to finally weep. I wasn't going to allow it. I had gone this long. I had survived this long! If I broke down now, I'd never be able to find the pieces.

I wanted to scream at Pinkie until my throat was raw and until my lips cracked. I had done so well.

Deep inside, I knew it wouldn't accomplish anything. Sure, inflicting hurt would share my pain with another—but what then?

The wetness appeared, again. A pearl had shelved itself on my cheek. I tipped my head up, I wouldn't allow it to fall, but I had already known it was fruitless. It could easily follow a path carved by many others before it.

I quickly jabbed a hoof into my eye and swiped it off my cheek.

I shambled away from her. Pinkie's hoof fell from my chest as I rolled over to give her an accidental cold shoulder. I didn't mean to be this way. I just had a lot on my mind, and I wasn't someone who liked to open up. She knew enough.

My bitter persona wasn't a stranger to her. She knew I was putting on a front. She had detected it before I even believed my own performance. Appearing dauntless and resolute with my problems proved utterly useless in Pinkie’s presence. Sure, I could dance around the subject as I always did, but she’d only place her attempts to poke the bear on a shelf for so long.

I heard the floorboards flex and groan from Pinkie’s body weight shifting. She had finally accepted that I was done talking about it. The Element of Laughter had admitted her defeat with grace. She was leaning on one of the wooden pillars holding up the ceiling instead of me. Her face was scrunched in a pout. My refusal to cooperate had bugged her.

She’d be fine. I wasn’t going to let her have her way all the time. The hoof was being put down.

We sat in silence. This happened a lot.

Pinkie and I would sit and mull over what the other had said. We’d refuse to meet eyes, tapping at the floor to fill the silence, while the urge to bicker ran its course.

I was completely comfortable in silence. Pinkie was not.

“…Are your wounds feeling better?”

My eyes darkened in suspicion.

Pinkie threw her hooves up. “I swear I just wanna know if you’re okay. Nothing else. No sneaky hidden motives here. Honest to goodness truth!”

“Well,” I began in haughty perkiness, “it would feel a lot better if someone wouldn’t have used kitchen tongs to pull an arrow out of my flesh.”

Her shoulders slumped, “are you gonna hold that over my head?”

“Yes,” I said sharply, “you should have left it alone. You didn’t have permission to just yank something out of my body—”

“—There was an arrow in your shoulder. Wha…what did you expect me to do? Did you want me to leave it in there all crusty and musty and—”

She hiccupped and covered her lips with a hoof. Her eyes lolled, and she swallowed thickly. Pinkie's nausea drained a significant amount of color from her face. It was a miracle she didn't rip a tendon when pulling the arrowhead out. If she couldn't even think about my wound, I couldn't imagine how close she was to passing out when looking at it.

“—urk, I can’t believe you didn’t want it out. I would’ve hightailed myself to some sort of doctor. It would have probably bubbled into some massive…ugurk.”

Her voice was high-pitched and adenoidal. How she was able to use her imagination to that extent, I couldn't even begin to guess.

"Unfortunately, I didn't have a doctor. I had you."

“Hey!” She piped, “I had to make do with what I was given.”

I raised an eyebrow, “kitchen tongs?”

“Yes!”

I was only teasing, but she didn't appear pleased with my criticism. In fact, she looked offended. She was as riled up as a filly denied a second candy bar.

"…I don't think you're certified to perform surgeries. Even less so when you're only equipped with unsanitary cooking utensils."

"Well, Miss. Doubtful," Pinkie started with a bit of attitude, "I told you that I've played Operation. I've removed smaller pieces with toothpicks, mind you. I had the highest score in my entire school."

“You were homeschooled.”

“What’s that gotta do with anything? Don’t change the subject, Mena.” Pinkie scolded, her cheeks swollen with hot air. “I was totally qualified for the job. I also got it out, easy peasy, didn’t I? Totally knocked it out of the park, even with you trying to sink your teeth in me like a cheesecake. I did good, admit it!”

"It was somewhat," I paused, pressing the tip of my tongue to the roof of my mouth with a sneer. "Average.”

She snorted and slapped my shoulder playfully but also with a bit of venom. Enough to leave a sting.

I could see her reflection waving in the glass, a smile still lingering on her lips. Sometimes our banter was enjoyable, but it didn’t mean that I wasn’t still mad. I’d give her points for having the bravado, but I’d negate a few for doing it without consent.

“Hey Mena,” she asked softly.

“Mmmm?”

"You took a pitchfork right in the chest, and it broke.”

I raised an eyebrow and turned my head to get a better view of her pondering expression.

“You have a hide like steel,” she muttered, “you were able to slip past the Timberwolves, kick down a rockslide—faster than the eye could catch. Almost like…faster than a speeding bullet.”

“…Yes? Those are all true. What are you getting at?”

She scrunched her nose, “you were able to hear that stallion from a looooong, loooooong, way away. You’ve got super hearing, you’re invulnerable to metal, can get shot with arrows and are still kicking—”

She gasped, and I just about jumped eight feet into the air.

Pinkie slowly turned her head with a ghostly paleness on her face, "I know what you are."

“I’ve already told you that I’m a dem—”

“—You’re the Mare of Steel.”

I looked at her, she looked at me, we both sat in silence. My mouth bobbed, confusion taking over my expression, while she remained as serious as the grave. She thought I was Supermare, or Superstallion—what in the world?

I blinked, “…no.”

“Yes,” Pinkie Pie shot back.

"Pinkie, I'm not the Mare of Steel. That's from a comic."

"I am absolutely, positively, without a shadow of a doubt—sure you're the Mare of Steel. If you keep waving around your ultra-cool powers, other ponies are gonna figure it out. You gotta at least wear glasses so you can keep your identity a secret."

Her behavior was just so moronic that it forced you to crack a smile. She got herself stuck on rafters and fell when she couldn't pull herself up. She made statements that couldn't be described as anything but ludicrous, as well. Pinkie had a way with slapstick comedy. Even if it didn't make sense, somehow, it would be a little funny. Half the time, I was bemused by the vacancy of a crackling laughing track in the background in response to her gags.

Sometimes I couldn’t tell if it came naturally or if she deliberately went out of her way.

“Can…can you shoot lasers out of your eyes?”

I pursed my lips, “not exactly lasers…but—”

"—Okay, okay, let me rephrase." She said, scooting toward me a little before continuing, "do you have heat vision.”

I sighed. I was going to kick myself for this later, "kinda."

Her eyes grew much more rounded and widened with fascination. She suddenly gave me a pleading and toothy smile.

“Can I—”

“—No,” I finished.

“Ya can’t tell a pony that you have heat vision and not show them your dang laser eyes. That’s like thee signature move from The Mare of Steel. Come on, come on, once…just one, one tiny beam, please?”

She had a point. I had grown bored of my abilities, but it could be classified as a spectacle to others. If they didn't fear me so badly, maybe they’d marvel at my tricks from time to time. Fire was a destructive element, but from my time here, I’ve noticed it could be something beautiful.

I put up a hoof, “I’ll do it once. Once, alright?”

She nodded so vigorously she nearly bounced up and down. They weren't lasers. They were just very focused beams of monochromatic light from condensed hellfire.

….Fine, they were kind of like lasers.

I had to inhale and direct my magic toward the center of my head. It took a lot of concentration to control hellfire and black magic. One slip up and you could implode. That was precisely why mortals forbade the use of it. It was really only meant for the demonic race or those blessed with the art of chaos.

I felt a little warmth in the front of my skull. My hooves sizzled, my nostrils curled with smoke, and I could see a faint glow on the wood in front of me.

Hellfire was summoned, a tiny twin-beam coming from both eyes boring into the plywood. A putrid smell of something burning flared into the air. I then thinned the beam until it was no more.

I blinked a few times to reset my vision. I then rested my gaze on two gaping holes in the rafters by my hooves.

Ouch. Doing that always made me feel dizzy. Again, even though it gave the impression of lasers, it was just a very focused version of hellfire. Demons were made of it, so we could summon it out of every orifice in our bodies.

Pinkie was flabbergasted. Her mouth was hanging open, squeaking like a shocked mouse, while her eyeballs ping-ponged from me to the floor.

“You just shot LASERS from your eyes!”

“It’s actually hellfire—”

“—You just burnt a hole in the ground.”

She was so easily amused. If I had a laser pointer, I'd just keep flashing it around to watch her paw at the walls like a cat.

Pinkie Pie scratched at the smoking holes with the tip of her hoof. She wasn’t afraid of me and found my quirks fascinating. I caught her skimming over my physique quite often. She’d linger on my wings before sweeping over my bristled fur and mane.

She was doing it now.

I caught her gaze. “Your curiosity is never satisfied.”

“Do all demons look like you?”

Ha, no, not even close. I had lost the ability to take the form of common fears like my brethren could. They could transform into wyverns, dragons, phantoms, wyrms…even sea serpents if they wished. I didn’t know how.

"Well, you've seen Beelzebub. You've seen a little of my demonic side…the only common thing we share is the red eyes and teeth."

Actually…I hadn’t seen many demons. I haven’t been to the physical realm of hell—I didn’t even think I could get there.

“Ì ¢åñ ¢rêå†ê å þðr†ål †ð †hê µñÐêrwðrlÐ,” my other half butted in.

I didn’t ask for its input.

“Wê jµ§† ñêêÐ mðrê þðwêr. Ì† wðµlÐ ßê þð§§ïßlê ï£ ¥ðµ wðµlÐ þêrmï† mê †ð êå† †hê mðr†ål. Ì wïll §µmmðñ åñ årm¥ ð£ Ðêmðñ§—”

“—Hush!” I said aloud, forgetting that I wasn’t alone.

“I didn’t say anything!” Pinkie whined, “I was just lookin’ at you that isn’t a crime!”

I visibly shook the thoughts from my head, “sorry…sorry—”

I heard the demon grumble in discontent but fell silent.

“—I wasn’t talking to you, Pinkie.”

“…It’s whispering to you. What does it want?”

"It uh," I stopped. I wasn't actually going to tell her what it wanted. “It’s just sorry for how it behaved.”

“Consider it water under the bridge,” she responded confidently.

I gave an awkward smile.

“Ì åm gðïñg †ð êå† †hå† mðr†ål. †hê ßlððÐ wïll rµñ lïkê råïñ Ððwñ m¥ þåw§.”

My crooked smile grew a lot more awkward.

Something twinkled in the corner of my vision. Ugh, sunlight. I had spent all night in long laments over my past. Reflecting hadn't made me feel any less anxious about what was to come. I had dug myself into a hole here. What would I do now? Where would we go?

Pinkie had noticed my line of sight. “We’re up before the rooster? Do you know how rare that is? I didn’t even think morning could come without the cock-a-doodle-doo of the local morning bird.”

“Early bird gets the worm I guess,” I sighed, watching the dewdrops glitter outside my window.

“Ew, worms are gross. Birds can have the worms, no one is gonna fight them for it. Ick.”

I trilled my lips to fill the silence. My temple bumped against the wooden frame.

I couldn't stay in Equestria. I had to venture far. Coeus would be looking for me, and no stone would be left unturned. If I could scurry off into the badlands, maybe I could lay low for a while. I could flee into the desert. Perhaps go as far as Pinkie's friends did when trying to stop the Storm King.

Ugh, thinking about it made me grimace—

I didn't like sand. It's coarse and rough and irritating, and it got everywhere.

“…What’s the plan, Mena.”

“First. I’m going to help you get down.”

I grunted when removing myself from my little nest of dust and hay. I wasn’t going to give her a piggyback ride down. Nah, my joints and fragile state couldn’t handle it. I was battered and beaten leftovers from war—I needed to take it easy. Perhaps I should put my old alchemy skills to use and brew a few potions for my wounds.

There was a ladder nestled in a curtain of shadows. It was dented, rusted, and its metallic coat of paint was peeling off. I slipped down the barn’s narrow attic to get a better look. It had two locks on the front that helped secure it. I assumed this was to snap it in place so it wouldn't slide off of the rafters.

“Is there?” Pinkie’s voice called out.

I turned an ear and replied, “is there what?”

“A plan, silly goose.”

I hesitated. My hoof lingered on a box of unopened paint cans while I bit my lip in unease. The smart thing would be to pray and elude confrontation. My true feelings were not as forthright. They were ignoble in a way, selfish. I understood why I should run away in the back of my mind, but I didn't want to. I yearned for a chance for him to look me in the eye. I was greedy with my luck. I had survived him. I should be thankful, but I wasn't.

“I…I don’t really know what his move is. I would assume Celestia would immediately order a search party. That, or scour Equestria with armies, combing through villages and caves until eventually I’m found.”

I wasn't….as powerful as she remembered. I’d argue that I was a minuscule of what I was before. Definitely not as menacing, dangerous, or as wild as the demon she vividly remembered.

“So…you need to know what Coeus and Celestia’s plan is before making a move, huh?”

I nodded and moved the box off the ladder, “that would help.”

It plopped with a dull thump beside my tail. I slapped the sawdust from my hooves by clapping them together. I slugged the ladder toward the edge of the attic before slowly inching it down toward the floor. It knocked on the wood below me. I stabilized it against the wooden beam I sat on.

"Obviously, he will want to recruit the Elements of Harmony, considering that was what put me six feet under before." I said while hooking the latches into place. They snapped together, forming a slightly safer way down. "We've got to get ourselves in a better position. Even with the element of surprise, I'm not sure it's enough for a small victory. I need to reunite with your sisters and Longro."

I heard clops on the plywood. From the corner of my eye, I could see her hooves inches away from where I would hitch the last lock.

She attached it for me, “but didn’t you say not too long ago that you didn’t have the strength to face him? I mean—you’re pretty strong, but Coeus sounds like he’s on a whole other ball field.”

“My ideal plan would be to evade him, but knowing my brother, I know that isn’t possible. Two thousand years ago we were neck-and-neck in power. He’ll be wary of me. I need to know how much he has advanced without putting myself in a position that could have me cornered again.” I explained, while gesturing for her to climb down.

She accepted without any argument and threw her hindleg over the ladder’s top. Her hoof placed itself on the first step before she continued the conversation.

“Okay, okay, hear me out—”

I raised an eyebrow, but there was nothing else that showed my interest.

“—What if the old plan is the new plan? I don’t think you need to change a thing, he knows you’re here, but he doesn’t know who you’re with.”

Her back hooves hit the bottom floor while she tipped her head up to look at me. I didn’t climb down and instead remained on my perch.

"And that would mean?" I asked, rolling my hoof in hopes of revealing the point.

“The whole point of you being with me was to hide and know the right time to strike, right? Well, I know you’ve been wanting to get out and smell the roses…but, what if I could be a double spy?”

"No," I said while she snorted a retort.

“I said you had to hear me out—”

“—No, you can't be between us. Pinkie, no offense, but you're…you're like a marshmallow—”

Pinkie’s brows dropped.

“—It’s not an insult. You’re squishy—”

"You're calling me fat, aren't you."

“Nono! No! I’m used to combat. Okay? You're not. I can physically take hits. You…you shouldn’t take hits. If Coeus and I were to meet, we wouldn't be having a chat. Having you in the middle will complicate things. I can't…I can't fight and keep you from getting knocked into the air at the same time. He's a powerful hunter. I'm not. I need to be crafty with little to no distractions."

You couldn't be a hunter without the perks of one. I was more like a parody of an ambush hunter—I fought with illusions and shadows. I had heightened senses, but Coeus was a whole other level. He could hear the very wing beat of a moth clinging around a lamppost.

“But…that’s the thing, Mena. What I’m suggesting is total fox-tier crafty! You were weary of me—”

“—Wary,” I corrected.

“Wary, right” Pinkie parroted, “—of me because I was an Element, yeah? You came up with this whooooole plan to try and tip-toe around us all. So, why are we trying to think up of a new plan when your previous one was so sneaky?”

“What are you getting at?”

Pinkie rolled out her hoof, “what if the old plan is the new plan? Like I said, they all know you're here but not where or with who, kay? So, I know I had a total bamboozle moment here, but you've gotta try and keep up. It's totally genius. What if I…hold onto your hat here…what if I become a double spy?”

Pinkie put her hooves toward her head before fluttering them away and popping her lips. She had attempted to make the ‘mind blown’ gesture, before nodding to try and seek my approval.

I rested my chin in my hoof while sinking into my thoughts. A double spy? She wasn't wrong. My plan was to use her as a window into the world from a safe space where I could observe and regenerate. Coeus wouldn't think I'd be dumb enough to use an Element of Harmony as a cocoon—I doubted it would even cross his mind. The blood of a mortal would hide my unearthly presence from even the eyes of Gaia herself. Maybe Pinkie was onto something.

She continued, "every time there's a threat to Equestria, there's only one group Celestia turns to. Who she gonna call? The Elements of Harmony of course! Like clockwork, we're assembled into Canterlot hall, given a briefing about our terrible foe, and sent off to save Equestria from doom every Saturday. I get in there, we do our thang, you know Coeus’s plan…ba-da-boom, one step ahead.”

I was still on the fence about the whole thing. For one, Pinkie was a well-known blabbermouth. Two, she wasn't a diamond under pressure. For her to camouflage and not arouse suspicion, she'd have to keep her personality to a minimum. Even that might raise some eyebrows.

—But, but…Pinkie had made a point. I needed to know what Coeus planned to do, and this was the only way to do it.

I couldn’t go within ten miles of him without my power lingering on the wind. It was a giant red arrow. I knew he felt it from within the cosmos.

Black magic had a particular static feel to it. Once you felt it, you'd recognize it immediately.

I needed a backup plan in case this went south. Odds are it would. Coeus was a talker. He had the tendency to be a silver-tonged devil that overshared—a lecturer. I wouldn't say it was a weakness, but it could be used against him in the right hooves.

I sighed my response, “alright.”

My reply was met with a bit of eagerness, “see? Good plan, eh?”

If I weren't twelve feet above her, I would have predicted an elbow in the ribs. Fortunately, I had made the correct decision to remain up.

I needed to preach caution. Knowing Pinkie, if I made something sound urgent, it would backfire. I needed her to be as calm as she could be. Maybe she could pull off keeping her mouth shut, but her sweating bullets wouldn't exactly make her look innocent.

“Sooooo,” Pinkie began drawing circles with her hoof on the floor. “Is the whole sealing souls thingamajig gonna hurt? Cause, I’m not going to lie, The Pinkster was made to be soft and lovable…I don’t have nerves of steel. Ya know?”

“I don’t believe it will.”

"Seriously, Pinkamena…I'm…I'm being honest here, I might pass out."

"Do you remember that stuff your mother used to rub on your hooves when you spent all day chipping at rocks?" I asked as Pinkie scrunched up her face.

“…The vapor rub?”

“Mhmm, the jelly that felt really icy and then warm. That’s how it’ll feel.”

"Oooooh, I see now. Kay-kay," Pinkie confirmed, suddenly puffing out her chest. "My body is ready."

I grimaced, “don’t…don’t ever say it like that…ever again.”

“I was just saying—”

“—No.”

I took a deep breath. I hated those chains. They were cold, heavy, and slinky. Ugh, I knew the precautions were necessary, but I didn't think anyone would gladly volunteer to be caged. Pegasi had an encrypted fear of having their wings bound. It was only natural. They were detached from the earth in near-spiritual ways. Earth ponies got fidgety when their raw and unkempt energy wasn't released. This may have been a rumor, but I've heard that if unicorns refused to dispel their magic that they could implode.

Okay, I may be reaching, but you couldn’t contain creatures with high magical energy.

I was one of them. It was absolute torture to be in shackles.

Perhaps she could sense my discomfort, but I was sure she could just see it written all over my face.

“You don’t want to do this…do you?”

No, no, couldn’t she see my enthusiasm completely bleeding out of my scowl? I couldn’t help but gruffly snort back a retort, man, she really had no idea. Alas, I had no other choice but to comply and reunite with my old chains.

I didn't have to be happy about it, though. I'd entertain her with some sarcasm.

“What do you mean? I’m positively ecstatic,” I replied while unfurling my wings to join her below.

I swooped down and gently landed beside the locked cow pen. I tucked my wings back in place before wandering toward the gate. I peeked over. The stallion still remained out cold. Heavy sleeper, wasn't he? I really hoped he wasn’t in a coma.

She made a pit-stop in front of the gate as well, “I’m fluent in three languages. Sarcasm, English, and cartoon sounds. Your words say that you’re gonna do it because you have to, but my sarcasm translator says there’s something you want to avoid. So, what is it?”

“Two of those aren’t a language,” I mumbled.

She pushed a hoof against my nose, “okay Pinkameanie. If you deflect, I can’t help as much as I want to.”

My stare onto the floor became quite pensive. I followed the cracks etched in the wood while trying to draw up a response. It wasn’t like they’d lead me to an answer I’d like to admit.

“…I’m just having a little trouble forcing my body to cooperate. It gets a little jumpy when reminded of chains. They are so uncomfortable. I have to have them but I have to take a minute to prepare.”

Her face adopted a little bit of sudden defiance. I watched her brows drop before bouncing up to a neutral position. I knew that expression like the back of my hoof. I said something she really didn’t like.

It didn't exactly freeze over. It fell into the category of autumnal warmth.

Pinkie recoiled a bit. I would imagine she was still processing what I said.

“I…I can’t let you go back in chains…that’s terrible!”

“We aren’t arguing about this—”

“—Mena, no. I can’t.”

I had strong clairvoyance when it came to Pinkie. I knew she'd be unhappy with me from the start. Her eyes were quite revealing when lined with bushed brows. I didn’t have much empathy toward her conflicting emotions, however. I’d be a moron to let her win this.

I’d eat her.

Any sliver of fear. Any shred of discontent or even the slightest drop of anxiety—I couldn’t risk it.

I brushed past her. My shoulder skimmed her side enough to make her grunt.

“I can’t allow it Mena…I’m sorry, it’s just…wrong.”

Oh—I didn’t have time for this. I’ve achieved virtually nothing but exchange disagreements today. Maybe I wouldn’t go haywire. Maybe. I had to look at risk versus reward. The risk overshadowed the reward, and therefore, wait…there was no reason to debate it. My answer and decision still stood unchallenged.

“This is happening. I want to hear nothing else about it.”

My tone was a little biting. I should have let that roll off the tongue smoother. I had failed to filter out my frustration. I heard a snort. I could already paint a picture of what her expression would look like when I turned around.

Probably taut as a steel cable, eyes a blue fire, and shoulders pinched together.

I sighed and turned around.

Bingo.

Pinkie clearly didn’t like my attitude, “it’s my body, bucko. Like it or not, we're a team. You can't go around being Miss. Bossymouth all the time. Team, Mena. T-E-E-M. Team!”

She tried to spell it out for me as a lower-tier insult, but couldn't even do that correctly. I was insulted by the name bucko more than anything.

I barreled through, “may I have your hoof, please.”

Pinkie drew her hoof back and scrunched her forehead, “no chains and maybe we’ll talk.”

“Nope, hoof please.”

I was so tired of this.

“No can-do buckaroo,” she responded, folding her forelimbs over her chest.

"Pinkie, it's six in the morning. I'm tired. I don't have the energy for this. Hoof."

I once more offered my hoof to be met with hers, but she declined.

"Might be low, but gotta say no."

I could feel my patience fleeting. She wanted to play games. Pinkie wanted to waltz around this problem until I caved. She was making an awfully snide stare in my direction. What she lacked in strength, she made up for in persistence.

“Pinkie, I swear to God—”

“—Sorry Mena, wouldn’t wanna be ya.”

I approached a little more aggressively, "Pinkie, I'm done with your games. Give me your—"

“—You are awfully prying, but I ain’t done trying.” Pinkie suddenly stopped, mentally counting by chanting numbers, before continuing, “That did not fall on an even number that time. It wasn't my best. I'm running out of phrases."

“GIVE ME YOUR HOOF!”

Pinkie reeled. I heard a little growl come out of my throat there. I didn’t even know I was capable of it.

I cleared my throat, “…please.”

A bit late, but better late than not at all. I didn't think growling was very persuasive. She was going to stick to her guns. So I'd have to step back, reassess, and perhaps negotiate. Out of all ponies, why was I stuck with Pinkie?

I put up my hooves, “Okay, okay. We aren’t getting anywhere.”

Pinkie continued to blink in my direction. Her hoof was pressed to her chest. Her expression remained wide-eyed.

“You just snarled at me,” she replied hoarsely.

“I know, I know…I’m sorry,” I grumbled.

“Like a tiger,” she finished.

I ground my jaw, “may I please have your hoof? I promise this won’t last long. I just need your hoof, Pinkie. Please, dear God, please.”

Her expression went from wide to squinted in a millisecond, “no chains?”

I remained silent and slowly brought out my hoof.

"No. Chains." she said choppily.

I exhaled throughout my nose. A wisp of smoke curled into the air and caught Pinkie’s eye. I was quite literally boiling with anger.

"…Mena, you're smoking."

I was aware.

Fine. Fine! I wasn't going to fight about this anymore. I had a crucial mission that required my full attention, not Pinkie. If she wanted to risk being reduced to ribbons of flesh and bone—that was on her. I had no intention of harming those I didn't need to, but she demanded this of me. She cornered me.

I needed to see Coeus. She was my only way in.

“Alright, you win,” I surrendered, backing off visibly by putting up my hooves. “No chains, happy?”

I tried to keep this as low risk as possible. Just my luck to run into a pony that was so lawfully good she didn’t understand why this was needed. Ridiculous.

She smiled cheekily, "see, was that so hard?"

You reached the peak of maturity when you could swallow the urge to maim someone. Maybe that was my demonic and violent nature whispering into my ear again.

I thought about simply agreeing with Pinkie and doing whatever I wished inside her subconscious. Unfortunately, my illusion magic only went so far when I was restricted inside a mortal being. Of course, Pinkie would also be able to see if I were chained or not on any reflective surface—and would probably kick and scream until I accepted her demands.

Ugh, I hated my life. I just needed her body…why did it have to be attached to a…to a…you know…brain?

I noticed a little pink blob in my side-eye. Pinkie had her hoof out, gently hovering it for me to take. Our eyes met. There was a stillness in her face. The blankness held no offending ill-will, but I could see a twinge of qualm about it.

She was unsure of me. Cautious.

She was willing to help me, but even Pinkie, as trusting as she was, didn't know if that was the right decision.

I accepted her gesture.

I ushered her closer, she obliqued. In tiny scoots, we sat muzzle to muzzle and eye to eye. I could see her throat bob and her focus tighten onto the clasp of our hooves.

“No chains,” she repeated.

“No chains,” I parroted.

I could see some tension drain from her form but I wouldn't call her relaxed. We sat there. Some wind gushed against the barn door making the hinges rattle, but otherwise, we were neck-deep in silence.

I lifted my other hoof. Pinkie’s eyes flickered over to watch the magic fizzle like sparklers around my hoof. It sizzled and crackled, creating an emerald smudge on our faces.

“Are you ready?” I asked, adjusting my voice into a coax.

She didn't move. Pinkie's gaze was stuck on the sparkles jumping like fleas from my hoof. She nodded. It was a slow and numb nod while she remained transfixed.

I would explain this kind of magic to her, but such details were trivial when she knew the basics. Black magic, witchcraft, whatever mortals wished to call it—had an enthralling effect.

It felt otherworldly. It looked alive and didn't have the same personality as other magic. Few would ever get to see such an enchantment.

It wasn't every day someone performed a possession. A mild one, there would be no foaming mouths or convulsing bodies.

As if stirring a pot, I revolved my hoof in a circular motion around Pinkie's forelimb. I could sense her tension seeping into the air. I wasn't exactly the embodiment of calm, either. The atmosphere around me was so brittle it could snap. If not it first, then Pinkie would.

I was shocked that she didn’t say a word.

Maybe the magic was hypnotizing in a way. It snaked around us both like a serpent nodding its head to a flute. Pinkie's frame had the stature of a mountain, unmovable and still. Even though there was no danger, she solidified out of subconscious demand.

"…Are you alright?" I asked, getting a muted response in an empty nod.

Maybe she felt the sinister aura of it. I needed to wrap it up quickly before she could bail. A demon's magic did not leave a tasteful ambiance in the air.

There was a wave of gentle shamrock light. It was prickly to me. I scrunched my nose and squeezed my eyes so tight I thought they would tear. I hated this part.

I wouldn't see my body being decreased to molecules. I wouldn't see my essence slipping back into its prison, either. All I saw was light—only brightness brushing against my eyelids.

Then…there was silence.

First, I noticed the smell: no candy floss, no stench of water damaged walls, or mold. Then I recognized the absence of cold chains and the familiar smoothness of the floor beneath me. There were no sounds, no light—my eyelids only found darkness.

I lifted them, slowly materializing the landscape before me. It was dark and dreary. One would mistake this realm to be in constant nightfall. It was lonely here, a drab escape from the world.

There were no walls. You could try and see as far as your eyes would allow, but there was only an endless space of nothingness.

You could wander but go nowhere. You could stay yet feel millions of miles away.

Then, there was a shimmer. In front of me was a glossy oval in a transparent form. I welcomed it like an old friend.

I reached out to it.

The mirror rippled as if I had dropped a pebble into a calm pond before forming my only eye into the outside world.

Black magic was funny. Pinkie could see me when looking into any reflective surface. I could only see out by the same rules.

She could look at a shiny coin, an icicle, a mirror, or even water. It mattered none, so long as it reflected her appearance.

“…Are you okay, Pinkie?”

My voice echoed, bouncing off of invisible walls. It faded out of earshot before the window in front of me lit up into colors and picture.

The magic seemed to have sniffed out a surface in which I could occupy. The window in the barn, although dusty, was reflective enough for me to see somewhat out of it.

“…Mmgh, I feel like some pony is shaking my skull up and down. Wha—did we do it?”

She appeared to be looking around, searching for my face. I knocked on the glass in front of me but failed to attract her attention.

"I'm over here. Can you come over here and wipe off the dust? I can't see very well." I asked, watching as Pinkie twirled around as if she didn't know where to look. "To your left Pinkie, no—your, Pinkie your other left. I'm in the window!”

Her face lit up like a lightbulb when she caught my distorted face. She approached, her blue eyes peeking at me. I then saw a blur when half her elbow smeared itself across the glass. Pinkie’s face appeared again before she wiped the remaining debris off with a hoof.

“Hiya, Mena! How are ya feeling?”

“Nervous,” I admitted, my response made her smile falter. “—But I think we’ll be fine so long as you stick to the plan. Listen to me, do as I say, and we might make it out in one piece.”

“Okie dokie, Canterlot it is then? I'm sure by now I've got a whooooole search party on my fluffy pink behind, so we better let everypony know I'm safe.”

“Reasonable. Just leave out the part where I existed.” I requested, giving her a look to heed. “No one can know about me. No one, Pinkie. Do not mention my name.”

“Got it,” Pinkie affirmed.

I sighed, my breath fogging up the glass for mere moments. This was a battle of wits, one where Pinkie was at a disadvantage.

"Shall we depart for Canterlot then?" I suggested, leaning away from the portal. I lifted a hoof to shrug, "It is rather rude to show up last minute to a family reunion. My brother does love his speeches. At least he'll drone on for a few hours giving us some time to make haste."

“Righty,” Pinkie confirmed, “let’s get this show on the road.”

Pinkie put some skip into her step but hesitated. My brows furrowed, and I leaned to my side to get a better look. I watched her remain stone-still by the barn's entrance.

Her face looked sheepish.

“…R…Right after I figure out where in the heck we are, erm.”

I slapped my forehead so hard I was sure I left a mark.

Something blundered through the forest. Wiping a mud-slathered cheek with a grime-coated hoof, a pegasus parted a leafy gate. Dried hoofmarks rested in a bed of sticks and torn leaves.

“Found some. Over here!”

A raspy, high-pitched call rang throughout the forest. Replies festered in a crescendo, hooves gathered in unison, and the voice was barraged with others.

“How far could Pinkie have gone? We’ve been out here all night and all morning.”

“Ah know Pinkie, if she got spooked, she’d be haulin’ tail for who knows how long.”

Rainbow Dash gestured to the trail, "well, we know for a fact she got away from those wolf prints. The wolves lost her."

“Oh, thank goodness,” Fluttershy praised, her cheeks shelving heavy tears. “I don’t know what I would have done if—”

“—Don’t ya go and get started on that. Ain’t none of us going to start the blamin’ game. It won’t help. We’re going to find Pinkie, ah promise.” Applejack said, joining Dash’s side to examine the prints.

"AJ, you said you'd be able to track her. So far, we've gotten nowhere. Just found a couple of muddy prints."

Applejack rested a hoof over the marks before bringing it up to her face. "Prints are soft, still damp, ah reckon' these were made yesterday. Pinkie abandoned her camp, probably went to find Canterlot again."

"Uuuh guys?" A voice questioned. The group turned to address Twilight, who had uncovered something in the dirt. "Who's prints are these?"

Applejack turned her attention over to the newly discovered prints. By the way they sank deeper than Pinkie's, the creature was heavier. There was no horseshoe print, but it had the same shape as a pony. Rockhoof had a similar size, but this one was more compacted, whereas his was wider.

“…This ain’t a creature ah’ve seen.”

“What do you mean? You said you knew how to track every animal and pony.” Rainbow Dash argued, haughtily drawing up to Applejack’s shoulder.

The search had exhausted the lot. The humidity of the forest had made their fur sticky and damp. Their attitudes were sharp as an exposed needle. Trapped within Applejack’s cheeks was a foggy garnet hue, telling of her exhaustion.

Applejack fanned her face with her hat, “ah said ah knew a few tricks for when mah cows got outta thuh pen. Ah ain’t a bloodhound, ah’m tryin’ mah best.”

Dash snorted. “We’re never going to find her.”

She was ignored. These prints, they overlapped other impressions in the dirt. They were definitely as old as Pinkie's. AJ followed the tracks with her eyes. The two of them intertwined a point farther down the path. Something was following Pinkie.

“Dash, darling. I know you’re exasperated, fatigued, and woefully impaired but you are in the same boat as us all. Pinkie is forlorn and frightened. We need to remain resilient to our own frustrations.”

It didn’t take long for Rarity to be griped at by Dash.

“I wasn’t sayin’ that to be a downer. I’m just mad, alright? I didn’t know she was gonna run off into the woods!” She said, her indignant mood causing her to kick a branch into the thicket. “If I would have known I wouldn’t have said it! It’s not fair! I feel horrible…I can’t—”

Her voice faded from earshot while Applejack crept alongside the tracks. Although they were alien, they had a familiar feel to them. A light snapped on in the back of her skull, yes, they had the same appearance as her own when using a plow in tough terrain.

Whatever the creature was, it had a lot of strength. It trudged. That was why the dirt was ripped and torn. It was struggling.

Injured, maybe?

The mud didn’t have enough suction to make a pony jerk their hooves from it.

Earlier, they had found a trampled path of brush. That was when Pinkie must have fled from the wolves, but by the way these tracks were, she didn't seem alarmed anymore.

In fact, she was sauntering.

AJ put her Stetson back on her head, “ah can confirm Pinkie ain’t runnin’ no more. Come on, if she’s walkin’ we can catch up. Without somethin’ to run from she’s bound to walk in a straight line.”

The group assembled once more and followed Applejack’s lead. Twilight fell behind Fluttershy to trot beside Rarity who had been fanning her face for the past hour.

The unicorn caught her friend’s wandering eye, “Twilight, dear, you’ve been a bit jumpy. What is it?”

“Does the air feel a little heavy to you?”

"It's the humidity. It'll make your mane sag and droop from trapping the particles—"

“—Nono,” Twilight stopped, “as a unicorn, don’t you feel the eerie weight lingering? I’m the first one to dismiss such a word, but right now, the only word my brain can generate to explain is supernatural.”

"Twilight, when was the last time you had a drink of water? You're looking positively parched and heatstroke can—"

“—You’re not understanding, Rarity. Just listen.”

Twilight appeared to lean in as if she were about to disclose a secret. The fashionista remained clueless.

“…I…listen to what?’

“Exactly,” Twilight exclaimed as loudly as a whisper would allow. “There’s nothing. The forest is always teeming with wildlife. Not one mosquito buzz, not a single peep. Silence.”

Finally, the gears clicked. There was no sound. Something had hushed the forest. It was far from a tranquil stillness. It was like a stunned silence as if something had shocked it to its very core.

Rarity's mouth slacked. It was…creepy.

“Like I said,” Twilight finished, “supernatural.”

Applejack had heard their conversation from the front of the pack. Although she was focused on retrieving her friend, something beckoned for her retreat. Something wasn’t right…and something hadn’t been right. Birds didn’t just abandon the canopies where they preened. Not one trilled or remained to feast on the berries above.

At this time of the year they’d be all over the mulberry trees.

Something wasn't welcomed in this forest. For a while, she assumed Pinkie's braying voice was the culprit, but the more she explored, the more she realized that was not the case.

Was it the wyrm?

No. This feeling was sinister but in a hidden way. It was like a shadow in the corner of your eye. You knew it was there, couldn’t see it fully, but left a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Rainbow Dash had been scouting from the air. She wove between branches, scanning for a clearing in furrowed slopes, but they had all been duds. No prints, no evidence of Pinkie, and nothing of interest.

Her shadow fell over Applejack, passing over her.

Those tracks…who did they belong to?

There was absolutely no way Pinkie didn’t hear them. The creature was so close she was sure anyone could hear it breathing behind them. Could have been a scavenger looking for scraps, but what animal had prints that big? Bugbear? No…it didn’t seem to have claws and was too small. Chimera? Again, no claw marks.

“Wait, wait…” Dash cried out, her flight coming to a hover above the group. “I see something.”

“It better not be another bush that has pink flowers,” Applejack mumbled.

“Nono, it’s moving!”

"Well, where is it?!" Twilight asked, her eagerness spreading like a virus.

“Is it Pinkie?” Fluttershy asked.

“…It is!”

“Go! We can’t miss her, Dash keep yer eye on her do not look away. Ah ain’t gonna let us screw up this one shot.” Applejack directed in short and choppy breaths.

"Okayokayokay, hurry up. She looks like she's climbing down a hill!"

Soon hooves were pounding, smiles were spreading, and globs of happy tears were forming. The parade of hoofbeats had the chime of rolling thunder. Pinkie's name was chanted frantically to try and catch the smidge of pink sliding down the slope. When her ears became erect and her head suddenly snapped in their direction—emotions exploded in messy squabbles.

“Pinkie, oh thank Celestia you’re okay!”

“Ya scared thuh livin’ daylights outta me!”

If they weren’t so relieved, Pinkie would have been shaken into an early grave by her shoulders.

"Good heavens, Pinkie, you're filthy! You," Rarity stopped. She inched her nose close to Pinkie's mane and took a sniff. "You smell of…barn animals."

Pinkie’s smile was automatic, a sheepish grin.

“Is she hurt?” Dash asked, parting the heads of Twilight and Rarity. “Are you okay?”

The Wonderbolt then proceeded to pick through her pelt with the accuracy of a monkey looking after her troop. Sticks were freed from her mane and pungent hay trashed into the brush.

Pinkie lightly swatted her friend away, “I’m okay guys. A-okay, here. Really, stop….that tickles!”

Dash’s eyes looked swollen from holding back tears, much to her chagrin.

“Pinks I’m really happy you’re okay,” The pegasus sniveled and wiped her nose. “Butcha, can’t do that to us! We thought you were hurt!”

"I'm….I'm sorry," Pinkie said. Although her words were sincere, Applejack noticed her tone was a bit of a letdown.

Normally she had the energy of a rubber ball bouncing off of lofty walls. However, her zestful character had been watered down—dull almost.

“Ah know the woods have been mighty hard on ya, but don’t ya worry. We’ll get ya fixed up,” Applejack reassured.

Twilight suddenly hunched over. There was a sharp pop. The Princess’ horn had delivered a still-drying letter. The ink was bleeding through the paper and was hurriedly tied up in a tattered bow. Plopped on the grass and unmoving, it lay. The group’s attention was stolen from Pinkie Pie. A hush befell the group, awaiting a brave soul to volunteer and read it.

“That’s a royal seal,” Rarity commented, scooping up the scroll before drawing back. “Oh, excuse me, may I?”

Twilight nodded.

“This hoof-writing…it’s absolutely grotesque—”

Twilight’s impatience caused her to snag the scroll. The paper crinkled and the silk tie fell from the page onto the grass.

The Princess of Friendship took a look.

The scroll suddenly slipped from her loosening magic.

“What is it?” Fluttershy asked, nearly paling at the sight of Twilight’s widened eyes.

“The….The—”

“Thuh what, Twi?” Applejack encouraged.

The Alicorn swallowed harshly, “The Devourer is here!”

The Devourer.

Eater of worlds, consumer of souls—glutton of destruction. It sounded foreign to me. I was given the nickname during the three years I waged war on Equestria, years I hardly remembered. It was all a haze. From the moment I transformed to the second I was banished. I didn’t mean to harm anyone but Coeus and his allies. I didn’t mean to summon an army of demons, unleash hell on earth, or frost the land in ash.

I didn’t even know that…thing…was inside of me.

I didn’t even know its name. Did it have a name other than ‘The Demon’ or ‘The Devourer?’

Longro, my companion, had said it had always been with me. Yet, it had a power I could never possess. This untouchable faculty is dormant until awakened when I transform. I am unable to wield it or control it. I’m just as lost when reviewing it as I was when Longro explained it to me.

What happened during those years?

Facing Coeus was a huge risk. No doubt he’d figure out my plan. He wasn’t an idiot. During the time I was The Devourer, he called me by another name…Asmo…Asmod…something. Although he knew me as Pinkamena, I doubted he would refer to me as such. This would buy me time, but not much, even if Fluttershy didn’t recognize my name. I would have to face him today. He’d figure it out.

I couldn't see much from inside my prison. I knew Pinkie was…walking. I could hear her heart trotting in her chest. Earlier I could hear familiar voices. There was no mistaking Dash's squeaky-toy voice and AJ's southern twang. Twilight and the others had been summoned to Canterlot for an urgent meeting. I wasn't exactly planning on being whisked straight to my brother right away…but I was a shining beacon unless I was hidden within Pinkie. No doubt, Coeus knew I was here. Pinkie's prediction was correct. Who else would they turn to other than the Elements of Harmony?

Celestia would be foolish to send them out into battle. They had absolutely zero war experience other than tussling with Sombra. Even he would be considered shallow water compared to the deep-sea threat I was.

No…she had a different plan.

I wasn't going to lie to myself. I was terrified. I felt nauseous, twitchy, and my throat was dry. Thousands of years have passed. How powerful had he gotten? Could I even salvage the bronze age from his ideals?

Extinction…why?

My breath hitched in my throat. I wasn't ready. I couldn't do this yet…I-I…I had nothing but novice magic. Longro taught me a few tricks, but that was laughable to a Titan! What was I going to do? I didn't even look like myself—

“Hiya, Mena. I’m feeling some turmoil. Like an icky and cold kind of feeling. It’s quite hot and gross out here, so I can only assume those are your feelings. You okay?”

I jumped. Right…her voice, it was incredibly probing. I was never prepared for it.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” I responded, trying to avoid her invisible eyes by packing myself in a tight ball.

I heard a snort echo throughout her subconscious. Even in her thoughts, she still had a childlike personality.

“That's a lie if I ever heard one. Now that I know you're real, it's a little easy to connect the dots. Every time I felt like I was forced into an ice-bucket challenge was just you getting all nervous, huh?”

I wet my lips and swallowed. Curse her and her extremely accurate memory.

“Yes…a side effect of sharing souls happens to be telekinetic empathy. You can physically feel my emotions as I can feel yours.”

There was silence for a moment.

“…What am I feeling right now?”

She was testing me—a game of sorts to calm nerves. A while ago, this would have annoyed me, but I was glad to get my mind off of things.

The atmosphere suddenly shifted from an empty and blank fog to a warm mist. It had the comfort of a sauna but had no dampness to it. It reminded me of summer. It was comforting, inviting, with little pressure.

“…You’re feeling happy…I believe.”

“Mhmm. Spot on,” she cheered, “wanna know what I’m thinkin’ of?”

“I don’t know…cotton candy?”

“A good guess, but I'm gonna have to say no. I'm thinkin' about the first time I met you, truly, that is. I was super-duper happy to know you were real. So, we can be real friends.”

I sat there. That was incredibly sappy. I was cringing more than if I bit into a lemon. I condemned this behavior. Pinkie said this to everyone. Every single creature on earth heard this from her at least once. It angered me more than it heartened me. If she said this to everyone, it hardly made it special.

“You’re friends with everyone, Pinkie.”

I wasn’t one of the brainless ponies she jollied along.

I heard her hum before responding, “maybe that's what it looks like from the outside, but never in Equestria has a pony known me better than you. How could they? You may not like me but I feel like we're family, you know? I really want to be friends, Pinkamena…maybe then you'll open up. You seem so scared…and hurt. I feel it."

Stupid….sunshine…child…and her saccharine-sweet personality.

I was fine!

“…Hey…we’re here,” Pinkie went from a bouncy tone to a monotonous one.

I wondered what had taken the emotes from her voice until I was hit with a feeling that did the same.

Immense power.

I could feel it reverberate. It echoed through her bones and pulsated enough to vibrate the ground beneath me. His very breath could shake the ground…I didn’t remember him doing that before.

I waved my hoof in front of the mirror. Canterlot had a fad with reflective and golden architecture during the Gala. I would have quite a variety of places to watch. I had to steady my breath. Pinkie needed a strong shoulder to lean on or everything would collapse. No matter how I felt, I couldn’t show it.

Twilight’s friends were whispering in a clamorous fashion. It all meshed together to the point I could hardly decipher one conversation from the other. I was looking down from above. I must have been caught in the reflection of a window overhang. Sunlight beamed down from where I was observing, highlighting the six mares.

Pinkie was still. The group was still in disagreement about rushing to the throne room so quickly after finding their friend.

“How come Celestia gets to summon us outta nowhere? I’ve been busting my tail for days. I need a nap—”

“Is the ground vibratin’ for anyone else?” Applejack reported, noticing a speck of dust bouncing on the tile floor. “Ah know it’s kind of faint, but ah’m sure as heck ah ain’t buzzin’ here.”

“Dash, I know things have been a little…um, disheveled lately. I wouldn’t have teleported us so quickly if this wasn’t important,” Twilight explained.

“Oh my,” Rarity whispered, “does anyone else feel…static?”

“Ah think the floor’s breathin’ here,” Applejack reported, “ah’m not crazy but it’s breathin’ ya hear me?”

The double doors remained locked tighter than a miser’s vault. Whatever was happening beyond them, I could smell the anxiety. Celestia was about as unsure of me as I was with Coeus. I knew she didn’t want to get the Elements involved but it was out of her hooves. I knew it would be the first thing my brother would try and weaponize.

“….Mena?”

I could see Pinkie beginning to fiddle. No, she couldn’t do that—

“Is….Is Coeus behind that door? What if…what if I mess up? Will he…will he really hurt you?”

I could hold my ground to a degree. I couldn't be careless. I was wounded for one, weak for two, and he's a Titan for three. If Pinkie did manage to mess up, I had a backup plan. It would suck, but the mistake wouldn't be abysmal. I had to be calm and encouraging. I needed this.

I softened my voice to where it was gentle enough to be entrusted with porcelain. "Pinkie, you're going to do great, alright? All you have to do is not say a single word. All you have to do is listen."

I'll admit it, my words were honeyed. You attract more flies with honey than vinegar. If I wanted to get Pinkie to do what I asked of her, I had to reel her in with appealing words.

I continued, “It’ll be…what do you say? Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy?”

I've prepared for this. Coeus' return is not headlining news. No, this would not be easy, but Pinkie Pie didn't need to know that.

“—I’ll be just fine. Coeus could never really tell apart my illusions from reality. Even if you do mess up, we can get away and regroup. Still try your best but know I have your back.”

“R-Really? I’m so glad you’re here with me…I-I was starting to think I couldn’t do this.”

I heard a creak. Due to the spacious halls, the noise echoed with ear-splitting acoustics. It was enough to silence the group. The doors had opened. The royal guards who had created a blockade with spears had loosened their grip, freeing the entryway from their blades. I could see beads of sweat gathering in pools around their collarbone. Dutiful as they were to the throne, I couldn’t blame them for being nervous. The tangents they heard from behind the door must have paled in comparison to the other problems they’ve eavesdropped on.

“…Princess Twilight, the former Princesses require your presence.”

His voice was withered. He shied away from the group's eyes and instead chose to stare glumly in the direction of a column.

Eyes bounced off of each other, each set hoping to seek reassurance from another. None succeeded.

Even though the door prevented curious eyes from sweeping the throne room, even opened a sliver, you could fathom what was behind it. Coeus’ presence was mystical. The very feel from it was as noticeable as a draft of wind ruffling their manes. You couldn’t miss it.

Behind that door a Titan awaited them.

Twilight was the first to present her valor. She stepped hesitantly. The Princess of Friendship was wise to be cautious, her friends even more so for being vigilant. They knew something was unearthly.

Twilight nudged open the door further. Dash mirrored her from behind, following quietly into the lion's den.

Like sheep, they each followed the shepherd.

Everyone but Pinkie.

“…All you have to do is listen,” I repeated, already knowing what it was that kept her rooted.

AJ gave Pinkie a comforting hoof on her shoulder, “Ah’m sorry we were dragged in this mess before we could unravel the whole briar patch that happened during thuh Gala. Ah know this is a might’ generic question, but all you alright, Sugarcube?”

Pinkie secured Applejack’s grip on her shoulder with a thankful hoof, “I’m still a little upset over it all, but don’t you go worrying about ‘ol Pinkie Pie. We’ve got to get our game face on. Equestria comes first right? That is why Celestia and Luna left it in our hooves.”

“Ah know,” the southern pony muttered quietly, flicking her eyes to the floor and back up. “Ah just don’t want everyone tah forget what happened. Our bond is thuh reason we’re trusted with Equestria, and right now ah know ya ain’t happy with us.”

The corners of Pinkie’s mouth twitched. She had resisted a sour frown. For my sake.

Instead, she mustered a smile, “one spat isn’t going to change how I feel about you guys. We’re best friends, I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

Applejack nodded, but by the way her eyes sagged, I knew there was so much more she wanted to say.

Applejack then left Pinkie to her thoughts, which as of now, were blank. It was radio silent.

I watched her throat bob. Pinkie took a calming breath, a hoof on her chest, before passing the eye-shy guards.

Once the last of them had entered, the hefty doors were pulled tightly shut behind her.

She jumped at the sound of them sealing.

The throne room was gaudy as ever. Because of the Gala, it had been slathered in gold and tasteless silver. I was never fond of royal colors. They were more of a flamboyant eyesore to me. Light flushed in from stained glass windows, casting a broad blanket of color among the bare tile. The group spread out along the red carpet, Pinkie favoring the spot of the caboose. I planted myself in another window to get a better view. I happened to be in the eye of a slain Discord, his defeat exhibited within a colossal glass memorial.

Standing shoulder-to-shoulder were the formal rulers of Equestria. For ages, they'd muse here. Even though their titles had rusted, their wisdom was still in mint condition to the citizens of Equestria. I never understood why they were put on such a pedestal.

A little bit of spite bubbled up in my stomach. If it weren't for my tightly pressed lips, I might have snarled at the sight of them.

I felt Coeus, yet, I didn’t see him.

“Elements of Harmony, please, come forward.”

Celestia ushered them in further with a rolling hoof. Spread out like a pyramid, Twilight guided the rest of the group to the stairs leading up to the throne.

“I’m…sorry for rushing off without notice. We had a little bit of an emergency within the group—”

“—Apologies are unneeded. We were occupied with our own tasks as well. We are the ones who should apologize for leaving you in the dark. It was for your own protection, but keeping it from you was not the right way to do so.” Luna stated, her posture slumping ever so slightly.

She looked exhausted. Actually, they both did.

“So what is it that’s got ya all worked up. Ah know thuh wyrm caused a bit of a hooey, but ya’ll mentioned something ‘bout a devourer before we went off tah find Pinkie.” Applejack said, gently pushing her way up to the front.

Pinkie flinched.

“Yes, I recall the conversation being quite a disturbing one. If The Devourer is truly here, I assume we are to take care of it, yes?” Rarity asked, taking a seat on the carpeted walkway.

Celestia gathered a breath, “My little ponies, do you know the history of The Elements of Harmony and why they hold such power?”

“…Ehh, something about a tree that The Pillars of Equestria planted…yadda…yadda,” Dash summed up, earning a mildly annoyed look from Twilight.

“—In a less careless explanation, The Elements of Harmony came from the Tree of Harmony. These artifacts were harvested to protect the realm from a multitude of threats.”

“Yes, that is correct,” Celestia affirmed, “but thousands of years ago there was no threat big enough for such a power. There were occasionally petty wars, mediocre villains, and little disputes that only called for a spout of magic. The Elements of Harmony were given to us to balance order and chaos.”

“I’m sure you can fit the pieces together. If there are artifacts to balance order and chaos, there are sure to be beings of each one.” Luna added, climbing down the marble staircase to join with The Elements below.

“Ah’m certain that was a nod to Discord,” Applejack said, Fluttershy agreeing with a bob of her head.

“Yes, Discord is a prime example. He is a being of chaos, but he is not the only or strongest of the tier.”

Luna added to her sister’s explanation, “there was an imbalance. Long ago, before my banishment or even Discord’s imprisonment, there was a being of baleful chaos. She was a user of forbidden magic, stealer of souls, and summoner of sins.”

I recoiled. Summoner of Sins? That was a new one. My race was part of the chaos faction, so I wasn't necessarily shocked to hear that. I didn’t know a lot about the years I was possessed by my demonic side, so this was news to me.

Celestia’s mouth looked dry, “demons can only enter our world through dark magic. Black Magic, in technical terms. Yet, The Devourer….she wasn’t summoned here.”

“No—” a voice interjected.

I could feel a cold spike of anxiety ripple up my spine in response. That voice…there was no mistaking it.

The floor hummed.

“—She was born.”

Stepping out from a cloak of shadows, two paws hardly disguisable from the darkness hiding them, slid into view. He had materialized from what seemed like thin air. An omnipresent being, able to shift and distort into a space he had not occupied. His legs had the girth of a pillar, his tail was meaty and barbed, spiked with enough daggers to fill a shed.

The Titan was jaw-dropping. His sheer size could wash the throne room in his shadow. No manticore could ever hope to achieve such a regal appearance as The Titan of the North.

“….Is that…”

Even in her thoughts, Pinkie's breath was taken away.

“Yes,” I began, “that is Coeus.”

His voice was a baritone so deep you could feel the vibration emitting from it. The tone was enough to express the group's feelings through their eyes.

“…What…” Twilight sputtered, “what is—”

“This is our adversary, Coeus. His very power is what gave The Elements their existence.” Luna announced, stepping aside to avoid the Titan’s lumbering wake.

How she could stand beside him so casually spoke volumes of how ignorant her opinion of him was. Luna had no idea what he was capable of.

“Forgive my intrusion. The Devourer your kind speaks of was once family of mine. Maybe it is controversial for me to defend what little respect she has earned, but I believe there should be a bit of an elaboration on my part.”

I could feel my blood boiling. He had the audacity to speak on my behalf? To…to lie and demean me by saying he wanted to defend what I was? He didn't have the slightest crumb of sympathy for me. A Titan jumping through hoops to try and gain the favors of mortals was not uncommon, but it was laughable how I was the only one who knew not to fall for it.

“Yes, my kind did gift the mortals the foundation which built all you see. The very earth you walk on is a generous offering. The water, the sky—they are all pieces of Titans.”

"Wait…now wait a minute," Applejack interrupted, "ah'm confused. What's this gotta do with this here, Devourer. What're Titans?"

"Ah, I tend to ramble instead of practicing simplicity. If I may, I would like to return back to the explanation of order and chaos," Coeus asked, extending his paw toward Celestia as if asking for permission.

She nodded for him to go on.

“Just as you have Pillars of Equestria, the base or foundation, I like to call it—there are also Pillars of the Universe. I am one. Gaia, your Tree of Harmony, is another. Your planet is the body of Mother Earth, the Mother of Titans.”

“Wait, wait, you’re saying that Gods…like as in old legends debunked…by…by…science…is an actual thing?” Twilight questioned, her voice laced with absolute disbelief.

Coeus’ eyes twinged with a bit of a scoff. It nearly changed them from a medallion gold to a muddled bronze.

“No, we do not call ourselves Gods. That term is claimed by pompous beings who wish to abuse it. It is a word that is loosely thrown. One being with the might of lightning and a thirst for worship has sadly mistaken his status as divine. The sun provides for and nurtures your planet—does that make it a God?”

“Ah…umm, ah don’t think so?” Applejack said.

"No, it does not. Titans are functioning threads of the universe, but we are in no way boastful about it. Gods only wish to flaunt their power. Titans keep the balance. When that balance is broken, it is we who repair it. The Devourer, in a way, is the other side of the scale. Unfortunately, her existence has tipped the world into a chaos in which I must quell."

“So…not to speed this up because I am so totally exhausted,” Dash fiddled with the back of her head before nervously chuckling the rest, “but what’s this ya know…gotta do with us?’

“Let me tell you a story,” Coeus stopped, the carved lines etched in his face radiated a soft glow.

The group stumbled back as the floor twisted and writhed to display a moving hologram. Instead of tile, it now spread into an active field of battle. Coeus rolled his paw above it as if to scroll through his memory. He passed over fallen soldiers, each clashing blade making the mares grimace before he fell onto an empty clearing.

“…Before our meeting with The Devourer, I had been brought into a torn land. There had been enough wheat for every mouth, enough water to gorge a village, enough stone to build every individual a lavish stronghold—but there was no harmony. Unicorns, earth ponies, and pegasi alike pillaged and enslaved those they could to survive.”

I heard whinnies. The smoke danced to reveal silhouettes mashing together, fire outlining their actions. One pony forced a sword through the other’s chest, a pegasus fell from the sky due to a haven of arrows—swallowed by the field of fire.

I saw the mares rub at their throats when swords sliced through those in the hologram. They all suddenly became squeamish from the scene.

"…The mortals prayed for a savior. The Gods, daring to claim themselves as protectors, allowed their pleas to fall on deaf ears. Gaia, the nurturing mother of your world, was the only one listening to their prayers. Unhappy with the discord, she sent your kind salvation—a Titan tasked to restore balance. I, Coeus, was that Titan. There were nations too dominant to overthrow by steel and shield, alone. The ones who were forced to eat scraps begged for liberation. These kingdoms refused to share the gifts Gaia humbly provided for them, and so, she demanded the wars be laid to rest."

This was bullcrap. Coeus didn’t do any of this…there was no war I could remember. Everglade was a peaceful nation, one that never saw combat.

"There was one individual that had a dire role in this tale. At the time, he was no king. He was a stable rat, Blaive SteelChaser, a meager blacksmith who spent his fair years smelting helmets and novice swords. Gaia decided to choose this young stallion to wield the mind and power of a Titan. She saw into his heart and empathized with his desire for a better world. So, she came to him with a deal. He would raise me, care for me, and use me to do Gaia's work. In return, I would free the planet. I was a symbol, yet not the hilt of a sword—I was the blade."

My father? The stallion he murdered? This was ridiculous, untrue. He was born a king…he wasn't a war veteran!

“…Mena…what is he talking about?”

Her voice was faint. I was pressing my hooves down on the ground so hard I feared it would shatter. These were lies!

"His speeches were grand, my influence as a savior his propaganda. This gained him many followers. With armies in numbers so great, no grass could be seen when they marched, my purpose was finished. He should have stopped there, but his heart was filled with vengeance. For each day, he remembered that they were tortured, starved, belittled—he took a thousand lives. There was no longer balance. No longer did he wish to end wars. He craved to start them. My path was darkened, and I was lost in amorality. Blaive was unstoppable so long as he brandished his sword, with his grip so tight on my hilt, I was numbed by my father's vision. It was only when we scoured the remains of our last battle did that vision change. There, in the rubble, untouched was she—a child."

There were mountains of ash, cracked cobble. The fields were as still as the grave. Vultures picked at fallen soldiers, crows avoided cages of flames, but in the middle of it…

…was me.

I was swaddled in a blanket eaten away by fire, yet, I was not burned. I could see a miniature version of Coeus and my father approaching the crushed cradle. Their faces were brushed in soot, Blaive’s sword glittered in the firelight.

Coeus continued, "the child radiated a curious aura as I did. I observed my father Blaive weep at the sight of her. The fractured world had birthed a demon—one made of flesh, born from a mother as mortals were. It was hearsay, madness, for such a monstrosity to exist. It was not possible, yet there she was. A demon could not be conceived, only summoned. Blaive found the blame in himself. His bloodlust had caused chaos that disrupted the balance of good and evil. He believed she was here as a punishment. So, he sought to bury his past."

This was impossible…it had to be. I was found in rubble but not by destruction that Blaive caused…the fortress was damaged by ravagers…he said this to me. I remember it!

"He retired his blade. No longer a tyrant but a benevolent king. Blaive knew he had betrayed Gaia. Although skeptical, he believed Mother Earth had a role in the demon's birth. Those that survived took an oath of sworn secrecy. My father spent his next years repairing the world he had broken. He was terrified of her. If she had known what she was and how she came to be, he feared she would punish the world in fire and brimstone. The prophecy of Armageddon. The battle between good and evil. One to restore balance.”

“Mena," a voice squeaked. I was too disoriented to catch it at first. "Your Cutie Mark…it’s a balance scale.”

It…was.

My mark was not a symbol of talent. I had mentioned how it acted as a moral compass. I didn't earn the mark as others did theirs. I was born with it. From the moment I could waddle to the mirror as an infant, I could see it looking back at me.

I was appalled and angry—this couldn’t be true.

"…He raised that child as his own. He filled her head with lies. My father reared her alongside me. He hoped to repel her desire for destruction by covering up the bones she was found upon. I knew better. He only wished to revert the ridiculous notion in his head. I never believed his extremities, not then. She was an anomaly, but I theorized my father was going mad from the crimes he had done. Obsessed with a child he found, spitting nonsense about hell on earth. Yet, there was some truth to it."

The hologram changed to a fuzzy image of my adolescence. A crown of opulent gold adorned my head, tulips were woven between the locks of my hair. My heart clenched at the sight of it. I was young, foolish, an idiot to believe things would stay that way. I only had good things to say about my father. He was wise beyond his years. To hear….such….blasphemy about our king was sickening to the point of nausea!

"One day, as I was basking in the rays above me, a tree sprouted from my paws with a voice. This was the first time my mother had spoken to me. She had observed Blaive's crimes. They infuriated her, even more so when he hid them. Gaia no longer saw him as her hoof in the world, and because of it, she wished to take his gift away. All that he had built, all that he had stolen, was to be wiped from the face of the earth. I was to do it. She did not want a war. She wanted annihilation. I voiced my plea to spare the demon, who I had grown fond of, but Mother Earth did not wish for that evil to be in her realm. For it was unnatural."

The image distorted for a second to show a young Coeus upon a forsaken hill. A crystallized tree hung over him, swaying to an invisible breeze. Everglade shimmered behind him, its solid and hearty walls standing tall and stout. The drawbridge showed a flow of ponies streaming into the town square, unaware of the encounter upon the distant hill.

"I begged my father to bend the knee to Gaia. He did not. He believed his cause was far more righteous. He told me that Gaia would try and destroy the demon to hide her influence, but he would not allow it. He wished to right her wrongs alongside his own. To wash the blood off his hooves by changing the fate that he predicted would come from the demon. I left my home. I wandered for many days and many nights, thinking about my purpose. I took with me the seeds that would sprout into The Elements you know today. With them, I was to destroy the falsified glory that Blaive had amassed. I could not deny Gaia, and so I obeyed. I returned to set fire to all my father had built. With The Elements, I turned his kingdom into ashes. Perhaps it was fate to rain fire upon him as he feared. There was one mistake I had made, however. My attachment to my sister kept me from remembering what she was, I spared her, and she became what Blaive foresaw."

As if the daydream fell into darkness, it became the face of a nightmare. A black creature with an unhinging jaw frothed with foam stood frozen within the hologram. Its teeth were prickled, its eyes a hollow glare. The slathering creature gave my heart a coiled squeeze, enough to make me hold my breath.

Its eyes…were my eyes.

They were no longer soft and rounded. They were bitter and slit. As if it could hear my thoughts, the image gave a stentorian roar. It ruffled the mares physically, causing their fur to stand up like quills on their back.

….What….was I?

An army of undead stumbled behind the beast. Their eyes were glowing a soulless green, their jaws moaning, and their unfit armor rubbing against each other.

There in the back was a wyrm. His mouth held within it trapped soldiers. Longro.

"I could not reason with my sister. The demon spoke an indecipherable tongue. My sister was rabid, unable to control what had been dormant in her for so long. Gaia was enraged when she discovered I had let her live. She sent me to far-away lands to correct what I had done, to reinforce The Elements. There, I served your Princesses, hoping to be rid of the curse that had befallen the earth."

Celestia finally added her thoughts, “Coeus came to us for help, which was after The Tree of Harmony had spoken to us. Gaia, given a physical form, blessed us with the tools to fight The Devourer. We lost many good ponies. For three horrendous years, she brought exactly what Blaive predicted—fire and brimstone. No crops would grow, sunlight was never seen from the clouds of smoke, demons ran wild devouring us…hunting us."

“She summoned…..thousands,” Luna feebly added.

"And so, with every fiber of my being…I used The Elements of Harmony once again. I succeeded just narrowly. She was buried beneath Equestria to perish. I was heartbroken. Although she had been lost, I didn't wish for her end. After I had exhausted my power, I retreated into the cosmos to heal and to meditate."

Celestia and Luna were silent. Although they loathed me, part of them felt sympathetic toward Coeus’ story.

“You’re….you’re saying,” Twilight trailed off, “that THING is here? It…it eats souls…it-it—”

“—We can’t stop her! Are you kidding me? If this giant Element producing machine can’t kick her to the curb, whatya want us to do?” Dash hollered, quickly reigned back to earth by Applejack.

"Dash, catch yer breath. We don't even have a plan yet. Ah'm going to be real honest. She sounds mighty dangerous. Ah can't imagine we're going to saddle up without our Elements, right?"

“Yes. Even as a Titan using them all at once in their prime exhausted me. Gaia tasked herself with the mission to spread their power into six different vessels. While I healed, these surrogate ponies would take up the mantle of this world’s protector. She wishes for a world of complete harmony, a golden age.” Coeus finished, turning off the vicious hologram with a wave of his paw.

I watched the abomination he claimed me to be shimmer into dust. Gone, reverted back to tile. I was left in disarray. I-I…I killed that many? No, no I didn't. He was lying. My father wasn't a warlord. I didn't harm that many! I wasn't in denial it didn't happen! It...it couldn't have...

—but could I really argue that it was untrue? I didn’t remember those years.

Pinkie’s body was ice-cold. I could feel the mist around me thicken into a glacial worry. She was conflicted, scared…

….scared of me.

“He’s lying, right?” Pinkie asked, a raspy plea in her voice.

I didn't know….for the first time in thousands of years, I felt like a villain. That creature was a shock even to me. I couldn't say if it was true or not to Pinkie. I had to lie, just for now, I had to get out of here…I had to know.

Was my whole life a façade?

“Is it true?" Pinkie parroted. This time her voice strengthened.

I was panicking…my breathing was labored. Pinkie's subconscious was spacious but it was tightening. I couldn't see them, but I felt like there were squishing walls. This couldn't be…lying through their teeth…they had to be—but Celestia wouldn't lie to them. Coeus, maybe, but what would that serve?

Why would they lie…why would they lie?

Even if I did those things, I didn't mean to! My family was murdered, burned alive! I reacted, changed, and had no control of it…I didn't even know I was capable! I didn't regret a single moment of my desire to tear Coeus to ribbons…I didn't…he was a psychopathic liar!

“…it is…isn’t it?”

Pinkie's voice….was devastated. I had drowned in my fears and my worry. It had blinded me. She could feel my emotions…I had failed to hide them. I panicked, I messed up, and now Pinkie knew.

“…Pinkie….no that’s—”

My lips were sticky. I couldn’t get what I wanted to say out of my throat.

“—Are you using me…to destroy The Elements of Harmony? Is that why you chose me?”

No, I wasn't using Pinkie…well, I was, but not like that! If I wanted to permanently break the Elements of Harmony I would have killed Pinkie like my demon—

….my demon.

…like my demon wanted to.

Oh no…

“…Why….why would you do this?” I shouted, I didn’t care who heard me until the demon spoke.

“¥ðµ å§kêÐ mê †ð kïll †hê †ï†åñ. ¥ðµ wåñ†êÐ rêvêñgê. Ì ÐêlïvêrêÐ. £ðr †hrêê ¥êår§ wê rêïgñêÐ. Ì ¢åñ £ïñï§h whå† ¥ðµ å§kêÐ ð£ mê. Lê† mê £êå§† ðñ †hê mðr†ål. Wê ¢åñ £ïñï§h †hï§ †ðgê†hêr.”

"Coeus?" A voice asked. It took me a moment to realize it was not a thought.

No, Pinkie had said his name out loud.

My heart thundered. I was dead…it was over…I knew Pinkie wouldn’t understand. I was an enemy to them…I would always be an enemy. Her face was stiff, ashen, and her body was trembling. She was breaking.

My brother hummed, turning his gaze to Pinkie Pie. I shivered under it.

She was overtaken by emotion…I had to stop her, and I had to do it now.

“Pinkie, we can discuss this later! You have to calm down!”

I was ignored.

“You destroyed Everglade, even knowing your sister didn’t understand. Why would you do that to her?”

"She believed I was riddled with jealously for the throne. I had no intention of sitting upon that chair of bones. Blaive chose her to be his successor for his selfish preservation and that alone. He tried to revert fate. I tried to reason with her, but she believed the illusion with so much heart, she didn't wish to leave. A demon does not burn. I knew this when I assaulted the walls. I went to find my sister in the ashes, but all I found was the monster I had accidentally allowed into existence."

Pinkie’s eyes bounced from tile to tile, “but there has to be more! Those ponies…you hurt them!”

“—that is the nature of war,” Coeus said. “Civilians turn into soldiers, fields turn into battlegrounds. I was swift…it was quick. Just as I couldn’t blame my sister, they were under the rule of Blaive. If he declared war…they would march. Gaia did not want blood to run like rivers throughout her earth, and so, annihilation was her gift.”

“We don’t wish to repeat our mistakes. War is damaging for each side. That is why we ask for your aid. We need to stop The Devourer before she can bestow another era of burning rain,” Luna said, visibly quivering due to a vision I could not foretell.

“There’s gotta be more to it! There has to be!” Pinkie shouted, spreading confusion throughout the room.

“Pinkie?” Twilight voiced, on the fence.

"No, you are exactly right. There is, but I am sure Pinkamena is just as bewildered as you are," Coeus disclosed. My heart froze along with Pinkie's entire body. "Young one, I never mentioned the name of Blaive's kingdom, my homeland. How long has she been whispering in your ear?"

“P-P…” Fluttershy stammered, “Pinkamena?!”

No…No….No!!

“Pinkie’s illusion? The one Fluttershy told us about?!” Dash asked shrilly, I hardly was able to hear her over Fluttershy hyperventilating.

"….I….I—" Pinkie's voice was shaky. My vision was growing smaller and smaller.

It was over.

Coeus knew.

Chapter Seven

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter One

Author's Note

Very quick disclaimer

(To all new readers brought here by the publish of chapters six and seven...the comments you may see were about chapters that have since been edited. That is why they may not make sense. I heavily edited them all last year.)

Greetings, I won't waste time so here are the basics. This is a re-write of Pinkie Pie's Shadow and I do not recommend reading the old one. It contains some themes that were in the original, but not all of them. You may see words like 'everyone,' and 'someone,' mostly because this story contains other creatures. It would be weird for the characters to address them as pony folk after establishing a school that accepts other races, yeah?

Anyway, this story is mixed with lore. The Seven Deadly Sins and Greek Mythology will make heavy appearances throughout it. There will also be artwork for every chapter, I mean, pictures help me visualize so I thought it would be a nice touch. Also, when this was written I did not know the ending of Season Nine, so the chapters will mention Grogar as if he were an actual villain. Have fun!

Chapter One

There was pacing. Among the sounds of scuffs and mumbles, a fire created a subtle luster within a mare's eyes. She was attentive to the other mare's distress. She sipped from a porcelain cup containing a steaming herb-brew. The mumbles increased but the distress had paused when the two pairs of eyes met.

"I just feel like there's something wrong with me, Flutters. I've tasted all this relaxing tea, and yet, I'm still in hot water. Only the tea bags are supposed to do that! I've never met a party pooper like her, no way José. Nothing works, she doesn't laugh at my jokes and she doesn't respond to any of the tricks up my sleeve! Well, maybe it would help if I wore sleeves—"

Fluttershy pressed her lips on her teacup's rim and took a second sip. "You have to keep reminding yourself that she isn't real."

“See, see, here’s the crazy thing.” Pinkie began, nearly trampling over the armrest of the loveseat to climb onto the cushion. She clapped her hooves together before touching the tips to her lips. “She’s immune to your special tea, she’s immune to pills, and she’s immune to my jokes! Which is, by the way, impossible. I’m sure Twilight can prove it with her degree in smarts, somehow.”

The pegasus traced the cup's mouth. The tension was as taut as a rubber band at its limit. Fluttershy waved the wisps of steam from another piping beverage. It had been abandoned by its owner during the tangent. While she was distracted, Pinkie had slacked her forehoof over the backrest.

The Element of Kindness pushed over the saucer as the tea sloshed against the side. It met Pinkie’s elbow.

“...These kinds of things can be tricky to treat. I know you aren’t exactly the Element of Patience—”

She was interrupted by loud slurps that evolved into words. "I'm the Element of Laughter, goofus. Remember when we first got our Elements? You know that. You were there, you saw! Actually, you were flying thirty-five inches above me at my right if my noggin' remembers correctly. I was distracted by the shiny rock thingies to get an accurate report—"

“Pinkie,” Fluttershy gently reminded, “let’s try to stay on topic, alright? I’m getting worried about you.”

The earth pony grimaced as if those words had stung. A blanched hue had fallen over Pinkie Pie’s expression. She hunched over her drink.

"Me too," she replied, her voice meek. Pinkie's voice was numb, but she quickly recovered with deflection. "—But, I'm going to bounce back from it. Don't you worry about me, 'ol Pinkie has had tougher scuffles."

Her friend's eyes narrowed and they probed at Pinkie's dodge. She had lied, again, and Fluttershy's cyan eyes were looking wan from it. She did this again and again in an attempt to deceive others. Something had been eating at her. Fluttershy had a physical twinge of pain every time Pinkie wouldn't open up fully.

“...What’s the part you aren’t telling me? The ‘Mare in the Mirror' is only an illusion, Pinkie. Yet, something about her has always made you wary. I wish you'd tell others about her. Maybe our friends could—"

“No!” Pinkie shouted, bumping against her teacup and making it clatter on the table. She flinched, steadying the rattling porcelain with a sturdy hoof on the top. “I-I, well, they’ll think I’m looney! Me seeing things and talking to ponies that weren’t there was the reason my sisters called me crazy! Please don’t tell anypony else…I’m afraid of going through that again. You only know 'cause you caught me talking to myself.”

Fluttershy responded with a deflated sigh. She wouldn't try and pry open Pinkie's locked doors any longer. She'd just have to try next time. For months she had suggested that they enlarge their circle of knowledge, but her proposal had been rejected repeatedly. Without lingering on the manner, the pegasus had switched priorities. Pinkie was a mare of many talents, but her confidence was paper-thin. The fear of others and their judgment had sown her mouth shut for years. Fluttershy’s suggestions fell on deaf ears and she knew it would eventually have to be Pinkie’s decision to tell. She’d have to open up to others when she was ready.

"Alright, I Pinkie Promise," Fluttershy persuaded while drifting a hoof across her heart in a lazy 'X,' to prove it. She then pressed it up to her eye. "—But, I really want to know what you’ve been seeing in that mirror.”

Pinkie’s eyes glumly followed the curling flames. “She appears with glowing eyes. I don’t know, they just have a chill to them like—brrrrr, kinda feeling. Not just that, but when I see her she's in chains. It's like my mind knows she shouldn't be there and that she's dangerous."

“I see,” Fluttershy replied, draping her head for mere moments. She contemplated her next words carefully, “but you’re right. She shouldn’t be in your mind. We'll figure out how to get her out, okay?”

“Okie-Dokie!" Pinkie responded, sounding oddly chipper. "It's not so bad now that I've been talking to you about it. At least we'll have some good stories to tell after all this is over. Imagine turning it into a Nightmare Night story. No seriously, a mysterious entity with sharp teeth and really witty remarks would make a good antagonist for a novel. Ooo, ooo, you should write a novel with me! After all, you’ve gotta do things like this while you’re still young!”

Pinkie’s smile was bright enough to rival the fire, but the confidence in it was dull. Fluttershy had seen Pinkie’s mask enough times to know when she had closed up for the day. It was hard, but she followed up on the direction Pinkie steered them.

The pegasus gave a frown that was more teasing than upset, “you know that I’m a year older than you, right?”

Pinkie gnawed on the tip of a pen. She read over the words blotted in ink while she waved her hoof over it to dry. She had been overwhelmed as one of Equestria's new rulers, as all ponies were that tried something new. Pinkie Pie had never been one to tip-toe around something as if she were walking on glass—but, Twilight had been very vocal on the importance of perfection.

Sure, the fun had been minimized, but this was her job now. Her cut wasn't too bad and with Twilight overdoing it as she always did, Pinkie took it upon herself to carry some extra weight. She chucked, just thinking about the position her alicorn friend had been found in last time was hilarious. She had been hung over her books, drool dribbling from her lips, and was sleep-talking her dreams away.

Paperwork was not her forte, but Pinkie wasn't a quitter. She adapted and overcame obstacles when they arose. It had been difficult to contain all of her raw and undying urges to do literally anything else, but she succeeded, at least today. That was an outright win in her book.

Pinkie Pie was a chaotic pony, and if the atmosphere screamed 'boring,' she would do something about it. Discord had always shared her opinion about living chores like this up, and sometimes, she couldn't help but wonder if they were somehow related.

They had way too much in common. The universe was an endless oyster of fun and they both loved to revel in the opportunities.

She gathered the now dry papers and stacked them on the table. There were three dull thumps as she organized them. She opened her mouth to let out an overly loud yawn. Her lids had fallen enough to halve her vision over time. She was exhausted.

“Time to hit the hay—wait, is that considered assault?" her body froze as if she were a deer in headlights before her muscles relaxed. "Nah, it's just a brutal way of telling the hay it's time for bed. It also makes for a great bedtime snack, too."

She carefully tucked the papers into a drawer where they'd await Twilight's approval in the morning. She was positive that her apology would smooth over the resentment that Fancy Pants had toward Dash.

Twilight had thoroughly explained that it was a type of cloak, but Rainbow Dash had boisterously called it a dress. No pony, princess, alicorn, or infuriated Rarity could convince her otherwise. Only her banishment from the ballroom caused her laughter to stop and turn into a choke.

Pinkie glanced at the clock. It clicked at the pace of a slow metronome, tick-tock, tick-tock. Pinkie almost wanted to sing alongside it. Or hum. There had been a small candle on her desk which had made a puddle in the bobèche. The wick was frayed at the ends and burnt into a black husk. It neared the end of the ember’s life.

Pinkie bent her lips in a ring and blew it out.

The sudden cape of darkness made her hesitate for a moment. She hadn't realized how much the smallest touch of light could make her feel secure. There was nothing to keep her company anymore. The dark held nothing to fear but she still felt uneasy.

She lugged her hooves onto the flooring and out of her seat. The gloss of the marble reflected her silhouette with its shine. She walked over it, hopping on her own goofy face out of boredom, and approached the doorframe. She pushed open the hefty door guarding the entrance. The burnished hinges groaned in complaint.

The castle had accepted the moonlight's embrace. The royal guard patrolled the near-empty hallways with spears that gave a glittering ambiance. Their manes were dusted with silver light. It paled their eyes and faces as well. They were sharp in their strut when they marched to stand motionless by columns and walls. It was organized and highly practiced. Not a single flaw when they did so.

The door sealed itself behind Pinkie, causing another large groan from the hinges. Her room wasn't too far from where she was and happened to be at a height where Canterlot could be seen in all its glory. The view was one of the great treasures of the castle. The city lights looked like little fireflies. They would lull her to sleep even after all the restlessness she had been suffering through. Some nights had been a lot of tossing and turning.

There was a sudden chill. The cold didn’t come from the open windows and she knew it wasn't a draft. It was never the darkness that made her feel uneasy. It had always been what lurked within it. She had grown thick skin against these kinds of shivers. She told herself it was all in her mind and only an entity that acted as a puppeteer. It wasn't real.

She grit her teeth. Lately, it was hard to keep badgering herself with words of comfort. It all felt so real.

A golden door blocked the end of the hallway with a wooden sign fluttering in the breeze. It knocked against the doorknob with the words ‘Pinkie Pie,' written in bright paint. Her friends were all assigned rooms to stay while preparing for the Gala. Pinkie wasn't too far from the courtyard and closest to Rarity in terms of distance.

She rested her hoof on the doorknob but hesitated when opening it.

That ominous chill was back. Even though the cold was biting, it didn’t win against her boiling blood. Why couldn’t it leave her alone? As long as she ignored it, the feeling would disperse, but it always returned with a vengeance.

She slapped her cheek with her other hoof. Perhaps that would knock some sense into her skull.

The door screeched open when she twisted the knob. Immediately, a shower of confetti rained down from above. It coated her mane, shoulders, and torso in glitter. Party streamers which she had set up for the castle keepers dangled down from the ceiling, untouched. Apparently, they had avoided her room today since everything had been left untidy.

Her nose crinkled when she giggled, she’d set up the surprise for tomorrow. They had to come in eventually.

She moseyed toward the bathroom and tugged on a chain to snap on the lamp. The yellowed light was slightly smudged due to the bulb going bad, but the glow was enough to illuminate the bathroom. The flooring was made of cleanly cut cobble, with a granite countertop under a wall-mounted mirror. She stepped out in front of the glass, meeting an imposter that stared back at her.

She could see her own throat bob within her reflection.

The harrowing presence reminded her of its existence by sending, yet another, unearthly chill. Pinkie shivered this feeling away by rolling her shoulders and turning on the faucet to summon warm water. She dipped her forelimbs under the spew and cupped some tap water into the pit of her hoof. She then splashed a wave onto her face.

Her anxiety did not waver, not even when the warmth passed over her eyes.

Her ears flicked when she heard something drag. There were multiple sequences of grating sounds and a muffled breath that silenced the city clamor. Pinkie didn't remove her hooves from her eyes, even though the water had escaped through cracks long ago.

If she looked up, she’d have to face her.

The faucet squeaked when she killed the water. It dribbled, slowly tapping on the metal drain while she kept her head bowed. She inhaled a deep and raggedy breath. Cautiously, she brought her narrowed eyes to meet another’s.

The mare's irises had always been a lurid array of red shades. The glow from them had always made the chains appear more sinister and fitting. Most of her features were submerged in darkness. Pinkie's subconscious was where she claimed her domain. Often, her menacing shrouds favored fog and darkness.

This being was the 'Mare in the Mirror,' which had always appeared during peculiar moments in her life.

What she was here to do now was uncertain.

The chains held her secure. They snaked their way up her torso, hooking around her throat like a necklace. Her body was laden with shackles. The weight caused her head to dip, making her appear crouched, and they tied themselves around her. When she moved the chains clacked. The sound of metal scraping against metal had always made Pinkie wince. Sometimes the Mare in the Mirror made the noise out of spite.

“...I assume you want to talk?” Pinkie asked, there was no answer, only an eyebrow raise. “You’ve been giving me the heebee-jeebees all day! Can you do your buddy a solid and tone it down?”

Pinkie could see her brows furrow in annoyance and her stocky shoulders clench together. The smog had been tightly clinging to her body, almost commanded by how it drifted. Maybe it was the lack of light, but it looked to be coiling around her tighter. It gave her more of an ashen appearance.

The creature had always felt real to her. She had animated emotions, unique movements, and her own attitude to boot. She wasn't always this solemn. She usually had something on that sharp tongue of hers to say.

“Why aren’t you speaking? Cat got your tongue? I don’t see any cats.”

Pinkie still didn’t receive an answer. The eyes quietly misted over with some form of disgust as a silent retort. The fog wrapped around them, swallowing her features, before snuffing out the crimson glow and the chains.

The mare was gone in a matter of seconds. She had vanished once again into the depths of Pinkie’s mind.

She couldn't help but let her lip sag, "fine if you want to be a Pinkameanie, be my guest! This is so unlike you. You know silent treatments never work on me!"

The mirror’s appearance didn’t ripple to signal her return.

Pinkie blew a raspberry. She had always been infuriating from the get-go, always messing with her head. The apparition was nothing more than a physical perception of her darkest insecurities. Well, that was what her therapist had called it.

It was the reason she appeared during times of stress or unease. She would almost—feed off of her doubts. After Grogar’s defeat, she had appeared more frequently, hoping to slip in something to knock her off balance.

Pinkie's gait was slow and defeated. She strayed from the bathroom to her bed, where she could crawl under the covers. The glacial stare of that mare never ceased making her spine quiver. Something about cotton sheets and feathered pillows made her feel safe and warm. Therefore, it was her go-to safe space.

She threw herself onto the bedding, bouncing some of the pillows off the surface. She laid there, sprawled out, with her nose pointed toward the ceiling.

Doctors had an answer for everything—typically. There was one thing they couldn't explain about the 'Mare in the Mirror’s' abilities to this day.

She could speak a different tongue, a foreign language.

Nopony had heard of it before and Pinkie didn't understand it. How could her own mind make up something so advanced? Sure, her psychiatrist deemed it gibberish since it wasn't any kind of language ponies have heard of—but it didn't seem like random grunts and sounds to Pinkie.

She knew a lot about ridiculous things, but this kind of ridiculous couldn't be labeled crazy.

It had always baffled her since she was small. The mare and Pinkie Pie had shared a life ever since her first memory. She had always been there and they had grown up together. Pinkie remembered when they were both fillies, yet, her illusion was always a step ahead in maturity.

These questions and answers never added up, and when she asked the mare herself, her responses were always taken with a grain of salt. Her replies were often callous and misleading.

Her name was Pinkamena, a devious and sly creature.

—That was all she knew about her. She could fit all the information she knew on a posted note. It wasn't much.

Pinkie rolled over and rested her cheek on a pillow. She slipped her hoof under it while resting her gaze over Canterlot’s landscape. The window provided comfort by giving her a silent lullaby and it had kindly soothed her fatigue.

She gently rested her eyelids together. Pinkie had fallen half asleep until a low and husky voice brushed against her ear.

“ñêh qµå¥† þêñvðk.”

Pinkie didn't dare respond to the whisper, but she knew ignoring it would only come back to bite her.

The next morning wasn't the quietest of the year. With the Gala in full swing, creatures from all over the world had been flooding in for hours. This didn’t settle well with the civilians and several conflicts had emerged in the early hours of the sun’s rising.

“Ya salt-lickin’ buffoon, I coulda knocked your teeth right out! Get on the sidewalk!” A jarring voice accused, as numerous others replied.

“How dare you, I am the supreme Duke of—”

“Nopony cares, we've all got some title or other! Stop shoving it down our throats, you mewling child!"

Pinkie gave a guttural moan while pulling the pillow over her ears. Even from her room’s height, there was no stopping the Canterlot residents from making their business heard. They may be classier than the ponies in Manehattan, but she would agree that their volume was equal.

She nearly fell out of bed when she stumbled and the sheets entangled her hooves. She kicked herself free, playing a mini-game of hop-scotch before she slipped and crashed on her chin. She fluttered her lips and picked herself up by using the window seal as support.

The city was lively and the scents of freshly cut grass drifted among the breeze. Ribbons and banners were flushing Canterlot with vivid colors, along with festival tents and flags dotting the streets and gardens.

Pinkie cupped her hooves around her mouth.

“Good morning Canterlot! Are you ready to part—”

“—SHUT, UP!” A voice chastised, making Pinkie flee away from the window and quickly shut it closed.

Not the friendliest bunch, were they?

There were two sets of muffled raps on the door. The knocks were quiet but alarming when they appeared out of nowhere. Pinkie yipped, her hooves still securing the locks on the window, while somepony addressed her.

“Ms. Pie, your presence has been requested by the princess. May I send word to confirm your arrival?”

Pinkie responded, “o-oh, yeah! I’ll be there. I’ll hippity-hoppity right on over, well, after I have some of those courtesy breakfast croissants—”

“Those are for the guests who have just arrived, and I must implore you that her request is rather urgent.”

Pinkie retaliated with a nasally groan. She bumped her forehead against the window seal a few times in silence. She then looked at the frown that reflected back at her from a mirror on the vanity. She felt like she was trying to carve a smile from concrete, but she succeeded.

She was never appropriately dressed without a smile—even if she didn't feel like smiling.

She wore her proudest grin when opening the door. She was met with what appeared to be a soulless glare. It was patented by the royal guards. They never had any form of emotion. They had about as much emotion as Maud, but even she had a better personality.

Her smile faltered, “g-good morning?”

He replied by gesturing down the hallway with his spear.

Pinkie knew that was her morning greeting and a push to get moving. She had a feeling Twilight had gotten the memo about her recent debuts as a monarch. Whatever she got her hooves on turned out to be a catastrophe. Cakes would go missing in the kitchen when she was called to inspect them, dresses would get torn by accident, and details would get mixed up. She was honestly, sincerely, trying but she didn't think she was cut out for all of this. Unlike her friends.

She couldn’t help but wonder if she messed something else up. There was no doubt that the Princess of Equestria had reviewed her work last night. It didn’t appear to be approved.

She heard the butt of the spear clunk on the marble behind her. The noise caused her to jump and double her speed. They weren't playing around!

Pinkie put some spring in her step that caused her to bound down the hallway. She always tried her best to lighten the stress. Even if no one was listening, she decided to hum a tune. Perhaps it just came with her Cutie Mark? She was the Element of laughter and her job had always been putting others before herself.

A lively whistle was just enough to discourage the gloom. She got appreciative nods in her direction from some of the busy bees. She waved and greeted them by name, all of which, were accepted with happy gestures.

She was getting in the mood of things until that dreaded feeling sank her glee.

She stumbled, and her breath hitched. Her legs were no longer as light as a feather, and they were now weighted with what felt like steel. Her hop slowed, and her efforts were consumed by the creeping melancholy.

Her ears flattened, “knock it off, I’m serious!”

Something clattered as wheels squeaked to a stop, “w-who me? Oh, I knew these old decorations from the Sunset Festival would be foolish!”

Pinkie's eyes thinned when she realized her outburst had been heard. She turned with wandering eyes until they found Party Favor collecting the items he had knocked over in surprise. On his cart, there were several traditional artifacts from his home village. She quickly scrambled over to help pick the remaining ones off the ground.

She gathered a flag in her hoof, "sorry Party Favor, I've been a little blue today. Maybe I need to take a raincheck. I'm not feeling so bushy-tailed."

He carefully reset the pegs where the flags stood upright, “Blue? You don’t look blue to me. In my opinion, you look quite pink.”

Pinkie's laugh was hearty, "oh, you jokester. You're right. Pink does suit me better. Blue is definitely more your color. It's not a sad kinda blue, though. It's very uplifting!"

He gave her a cheesy grin, "aha, thought that would cheer you up a bit. Chin up, Pinkie. Things will get better with time, trust me. I don't know what running Equestria is like, but I did help manage my village when Starlight left."

She stuck the flag she was holding in a peg, “yeah, things always start to look up eventually. My friends always know how to make the toughest work fun, as long as we’re together.”

She swatted at the flag and watched it rattle in its holder. Pinkie then leaned her chin into her hoof and gushed a heavy sigh from her nose. Party Favor gave a gentle clap on her shoulder, which lifted her spirits ever so slightly.

“Maybe you should use that raincheck. I’m sure Twilight will understand.”

Pinkie gave him a smile, one to belie the sadness she felt. She knew putting on a mask was wrong, but she couldn’t let everyone down. Today was important, and no matter what happened, she’d be there for her friends as they had been for her.

“Nah, I only take rain checks when it’s storming. Look outside, clear skies all day! Gotta save that umbrella for Spring dontcha think? All I needed was a good pep talk to get this train moving. Choo, aaaaaand she's off!" Pinkie departed with a lazy wave behind her shoulder as she got her prance back. "See you at the Gala, Party Favor! Be a pal and save me the sparklers. I called dibs last year!"

She turned behind a column and backed herself against it. She was out of eyesight, and it had sounded like Party Favor took his leave. The wheels rolled along the flooring for a few minutes until she heard a door's hinges screech twice.

He had departed. She was thankful that he didn’t see how his joke had hardly put a dent in what she was feeling. He had tried his best and she wanted to openly show him her appreciation, regardless that his methods had failed. All she could have done was smile and keep her chin up as he said. She felt gross over her lie even though it had to be done.

Pinkamena was on the attack this morning. Aggressive.

Pinkie didn't know why she was acting like this. The mare typically exchanged slightly aggravating banter before plugging her ears when her victim decided to chide her about it.

She decided to put her current problems in a box. She would worry herself to bits if she kept thinking about it. After all, Twilight's problem needed her attention the most.

She felt a twinge of nausea. Right, The Element of Magic probably summoned her out of rebuke. Pinkie had obviously made a boo-boo in her work, and she’d do her best to correct it as always.

The door to the castle library was quite lofty. It stretched almost to the ceiling with a glossy exterior like that of stainless steel. The handles were nearly too heavy for Pinkie to pull with two hooves, but thankfully, her plump physique was enough to muscle the door.

She had to pull them all the way to her chest, and with a little elbow power, it was open enough for her to slip through.

The library had burst into companionable chatter, which had shooed away her loneliness for a minute. Pinkie felt like she was back in the world of the living. Ponies had populated the library, scattering books, and hanging reefs to celebrate the special occasion. Poor Twilight, as she had said the first time she met Pinkie—

—Libraries were supposed to be quiet.

She chuckled, shaking her head with fondness. The memory always coaxed a laugh from her.

While she played spot-the-Alicorn, she sauntered along the bookshelves. There was a staircase in the shape of a screw leading up to the second floor, as well as balconies that hung over the first. Pinkie shrugged, taking herself up the windy stairs by hopping up each step until she reached the top.

It was there her search ended. The guards gave it away. Spears crossed in front of her path instinctively, but they relaxed when noticing the visitor.

Twilight didn’t even need to look behind her, she had a sixth sense.

The princess waved Pinkie forward while she crouched over a sea of notes and letters. There was a waxy scent in the air which revealed to her that her friend had been stamping down seals. The Alicorn's feathers were crimped, her tail knotted, and her coat wasn't as well-managed as it usually was. In fact, Pinkie could argue that she was mostly disheveled.

A book slapped shut. “Pinkie…I need you to explain something to me.”

Her chair spun around to where they met face to face. Twilight pressed her hooves to her bottom lip before she flicked them outward.

“—Although you may have found Dash’s comment humorous, you cannot, and I mean cannot take her side in an apology letter. You did this without asking me, and if I hadn't made myself two-three, wait, yes—three cups of coffee, I would have sent it."

Her eye twitched before she twisted around once more. Pinkie heard a bubbling slurp and a sigh of contentment.

“Three cups of coffee… that’s what’s keeping me sane. Everything has to be perfect, this is the first Gala in which I'm in charge! No princesses to supervise me because I am the apparent supervisor! I-I have to be gracious, kind, and… and—"

Pinkie jumped when the chair swooped back around. She was holding a mug in both hooves and the earth pony couldn’t help but grimace at the sight of her.

“—Not look like this,” she finished.

She gestured to her body to prove a point. The poor Alicorn’s eyes were puffed and fogged with a reddish hue. Pinkie nipped at her bottom lip. She couldn't help but feel somewhat intimidated by her friend's appearance.

“Well, I don’t think you look that bad. You just have a little bit of bed—”

Twilight leaned forward with a sudden hum and her coffee sloshed at the rim.

“—O-okay, it does look pretty bad,” Pinkie admitted.

She put the mug back to her lips and kicked the chair back. The backrest bumped the front of her desk, while Twilight rolled her shoulder to reach for something. Her hoof slapped the table a few times before picking something from the pile. Not once did her eyes stray from Pinkie until the letter was in front of her.

“This… this… letter, is-is…I… we cannot send this to Fancy Pants! He’d never let Canterlot hear the end of it. Pinkie, I know you’ve been trying to help lately…but I’m fine. You don’t have to do things like this, alright?”

“Oh, but I’m happy to do it!” Pinkie exclaimed, nearly beaming so bright she’d cause blindness. “I’m always ready to help—”

“—No, nonono! Please don’t do something like this again, Pinkie.” Twilight interrupted, with the inability to control her desperation. Pinkie’s shoulders slouched, and her friend quickly realized how that had sounded, “I-I, well.”

Pinkie knew she didn’t mean to hurt her feelings, but it still cut a little.

Twilight cupped her beverage a little tighter. She then carefully placed it upon her desk and scooched her chair closer. The princess could see Pinkie's attempt to dodge her eyes, but she wouldn't let the conversation end on a sour note.

"I apologize. I didn't mean to snap. This whole thing has gotten to all of us, hasn't it?"

Pinkie forced herself to perk up, "it's okay, Twi. I-I know you didn't mean any harm. I'm sorry too. I'm not doing such a great job at this ruling thing, huh?"

“Oh, wait…no, that’s not—” Twilight stopped, tapping her chin vigorously while Pinkie visibly sulked in front of her. “—Aha, I know the perfect job for you! Why don’t you help out Applejack? She’s been needing some assistance finding some…herbs, I think? She’s in charge of the food—”

“Food?” Pinkie repeated, nearly salivating a river. “You don’t have to tell me twice! I’ll be there in a jiffy! Maybe she’ll finally let me taste one of those croissants.”

“No! Those are for the guests!” Twilight couldn’t help but snap her mouth shut when Pinkie’s eyes quivered. She put up a hoof, “you can have one. Do you hear me? One, Pinkie.”

“Okie-Dokie-Lokie, I can only have one. Unless Applejack has any others to spare—”

“ONE!” Twilight interrupted, causing Pinkie to massage her eardrum.

“Ouych!" She cried, hushing her friend by batting her hoof into the air. "—I was kidding. I know I can only have one."

Twilight exhaled with enough force to blow out a candle. Pinkie scrunched her face with disapproval before skipping toward the exit. She was only kidding. Poor Twi, she was so stressed out that she could hardly take a joke.

While sliding her hoof down the golden railway guarding the staircase, she eyed a few pegasi whizzing past her. The entire province of Canterlot was just one giant ecosystem that acted like a beehive when the Gala came. Since Twilight had parked herself in the middle of it, it became the control center. They had to have her approval on everything, from the music all the way down to the minor details.

There was no way Pinkie could handle all of it, that was for sure.

Her hooves echoed when she hit the bottom floor. It was hardly a challenger to the idle chatter, she could argue she wasn't even heard by some. A few ponies noticed her and waved, while others gave her a look of warning. Pinkie tucked her ears sheepishly and returned an awkward grin.

She didn't have the best reputation this year. She had messed a lot of things up.

Pinkie saw a familiar face among a cluster and flagged her down.

She stuck out like a sore hoof. Her colors had always been an eye-catcher since it was a multitude of colors. Her sleek and preened feathers were glossy, her mane was brushed and side-swept, probably for Rarity's sake. Dash was fidgety, forelimbs tucked over her chest, with a stink eye toward the upstairs loft.

Pinkie couldn’t help but comment, “I see somepony isn’t a happy camper.”

Dash grunted, “Rarity won’t let me anywhere near the ballroom.”

She pulled up by the pegasus' side and planted herself beside the bean bag chair. The beads inside crinkled when Rainbow leaned to her side and glanced at her friend.

“She was chewin' my ear off cause of some stupid comment. Now I'm basically banned from mingling—" Dash made air quotes before continuing "—until she charms them back into cooperating. I didn't know he'd be such a buzzkill about a dumb dress—"

“—Cloak,” Pinkie corrected, “You’ve gotta say cloak, Dashie. For some reason, he wants it to be called that, and I don't think we should make his face any redder. He looked like a tomato."

“Whatever,” Dash grunted, “it was totally a dress.”

"You don't happen to know where Applejack is hiding the snack bar, do you?" Pinkie asked as the Wonderbolt flicked her wrist toward the exit door.

"AJ is in the courtyard, counting all the caterers and deliveries or something. I dunno, okay? Last I saw her, she was throwing a temper tantrum about some kind of herb. Rarity wanted some fancy leaf on top of the dishes, AJ and I then suggested we could pick one off a bush. You shoulda seen her face.”

She laughed, belting out a raspy cackle, causing some ponies to turn and look her way.

“Depends on the bush,” Pinkie responded, taking her leave. “Bushes with...like...mint leaves and bay leaves! If used right they can be quite unbe-leaf-abley tasty.”

Rainbow called after her, “that was a bad pun!”

She shrugged, maybe it wasn't her best, but Dash had cracked a smile. The courtyard was a hop-skip and a jump away, no seriously, it was. She had reached it in a few minutes after a little stroll out of the library, down the hall, and to the left. She had always been able to see the courtyard from her home-away-from-home, which was under one of the mini-towers. Therefore, it was one of the places she didn’t need directions to.

Her hooves sank in the fresh grass as she wandered around in search of a creamsicle pony hiding among the crowd. The smell of the mown grass was sharp, slightly pungent, and mixed with gasoline. Thankfully, an aroma of honeysuckle clashed enough with it to add a refreshing fragrance.

The bushes were cut and shaped into rearing stallions, while fountains gushed spurts of water that danced to a hidden agenda. The water flared before slapping onto the concrete at the bottom of the fountain and growing still. Pinkie ran her gaze along the ones still active and admiring the stonework.

“Ah told ya, it don’t make a lick of sense. Ah ain’t gonna ask ‘em to go into town and get some neither. My hooves are tied, you can tell Rarity—”

Pinkie poked her head over a bush, while Applejack’s voice faded out of earshot. She parted the leaves to peer into the space where wagons were being unloaded. AJ’s mane was stringy, and her muzzle had a ring of sweat around her lips and nose.

She looked about as exhausted as Twilight, but the Alicorn was defeated when it came to frustration. Applejack now had the crown.

“—They’re leaves! Wha-what do y'all want me to do here? If ah had known that ah had tah slap on a few leaves to appease these ponies ah woulda done it. Look at it, ya take one bite and the whole thing is gone.”

Octavia pulled at her cello string and it thumped against the wooden neck. "My sincerest apologies for the inconvenience, but I am only the musician. I was told to deliver the message and no more. Might I suggest that you take this up with Ms. Rarity?"

"Well, ah ain’t got time for it. Ah already ordered the food, and ah ain’t gonna send it back because it doesn’t have a darn leaf on it. Ah told her no once, and ah’ll say it again, nopony will even notice it.”

“...Well, actually, they aren’t exactly leaves as you call them. They are hoof-picked garnishes and spices grown right here in Canter—”

“—Herbs, spices, leaves…they’re plants. Same thing," Applejack argued while draping her hat over her eyes for a moment, worn out from the argument. "Fine, fine. Ah'll try and find somepony tah go hoof-pick one or whatever it is ya’ll need. As long as it gets 'er out of my mane.”

Pinkie sat behind the two, while Octavia loosely rolled her eyes and continued tuning her instrument.

She spoke up, "AJ do you happen to have an extra breakfast croissant? I'm really, really, hungry. Twilight said I could have three, honest to goodness truth."

The earth pony nearly broke her neck when whipping around to address her, “Pinkie? Ah, hope tah Celestia that’s you.”

“Present!” Pinkie Pie replied, sticking her forelimb into the air lazily.

Applejack had a worn smile, “Ah reckon mah problem might have an answer. Pinkie, can ya get somethin’ for me?”

She tipped her head while pressing a hoof into her temple. "nopony panic, but I may be psychic. I predict that you are going to ask me to fetch a leaf of some sort?”

“Garnish!” Octavia contributed, clicking her tongue.

“Ah was fixin’ tah find somepony that could assist, it’s easy…ah think. Ya just gotta run into town and shop around for some rosemary. Ah’d do it, but ah can’t leave mah post unless you want Twi tah gripe at me. Ah leave for a minute, and everything goes south…like, now when ah’ve just been told ah have to serve things with leav—” Applejack stopped, glancing quickly at Octavia who aggressively twinged a string. “—Garnishes.”

“Soooo, rosemary, that's it?" Pinkie asked, while the farmer grunted a sigh.

“Rosemary, grated spices…uhhh, ah think she also said thyme. Once ah get ‘em ah’ve gotta quickly douse a puff on every single pre-made plate that came through. Mah fault orderin’ and thinkin’ an extra bit for a garnish was outrageous.”

Her voice had thickened with derision, obviously sarcastic. Applejack turned her attention to another wagon that had rolled up, while a team of four ponies climbed in and removed the boxes. She was given a clipboard by a rugged stallion, who awaited her approval.

“Ah’ve gotta trust ya on this one, Pinkie.” She mumbled to herself while flipping over a sheet and gliding her hoof down the middle. “Just don’t ya go and get distracted, buy a few bottles of it, and mosey on back here. Got it?”

The Element of Laughter saluted, “clear as my Uncle Pie’s crystal tooth.”

“Ah, uh,” Applejack stuttered before waving her friend off. “Just nevermind, ain’t even gonna try and understand that. Get a move on, now.”

Pinkie repeated her salute, which was overlooked. She then exited with Applejack's complaints rattling even the statues.

“Whatcha mean ah’ve gotta serve ‘em on pure silver platters and silver spoons? Ah’ll serve ‘em a silver spoon, alright. Right up their—”

Pinkie, unfortunately, wasn't around to hear the rest of her tangent.

Pinkie's brow narrowed before she removed a bulging pouch from a countertop. "Ten bits, twenty is outrageous."

The shopkeeper’s face remained solemn, “these are in high demand. You’re quite eccentric, and bargaining with such a low-ball offer is reeking of the lower class. If you can’t afford it, we have no reason to converse.”

She tossed her hoof onto the table, making some bits in a tip jar leap and rattle against the glass, “ten bits!”

"Twenty," he replied while leaning against his wooden tabletop, making it creak.

Pinkie reared so that she could place her forelimbs onto the counter, "ten bits, Mr. Herb guy! No pony swindles the Pinkie Pie!"

“Twenty,” he replied in a tuneful whistle, “that’s the market price. If you have an issue with how I value my products, you are welcome to shop where the rest of the vagabonds do.”

His chuckle was gruff and it made Pinkie's forehead wrinkle.

“Ten bits!”

“Twenty!”

“Ten!”

“Twenty!”

She leaned forward to lock eyes with him, “twenty bits!”

His smirk was aggravating, "and I suppose your tactic to use reverse psychology would make me say ten? Did I read you right? No, fortunately for me, I've been a sales-stallion long enough to recognize a cheap street trick."

Pinkie trilled her lips in defeat, "alright, Mr. See-Through. Gotta say normally that works, but I know when I’ve been checkmated. I hereby lay down my queen.”

She placed the pouch back onto the table and slowly inched it forward.

“First of all, it's the king that is laid when defeated," he educated while gathering his prize in both hooves. "Second of all, your attempt was awfully pathetic and your defeat even more so. I don't know what strange lands you've crawled out from, but you've amused me."

Pinkie's defeat was drenched in theatrics. It was enough to pull at anyone's rusted heartstrings. The saggy lip, the waxy eyes, the droopy shoulders. She had perfected it.

He knocked over the sack and began counting out his share by sliding the coins into a gathering pile. Pinkie remained bowed.

“Canterlot is rather short on humor, especially during the Gala,” he started while clicking the bits together. “Canterlot is also short on helping hooves, very valuable this time of year when just about every pony is rented out for errands.”

Pinkie’s eyes peeked from beneath the table.

He had counted out ten bits while gentle tying the rope back around the pouch. Her smile remained hidden from view.

"Tell you what, my contractor is just beyond those hills over there." He pointed toward the farmland and gestured toward a lightly trodden path. "Follow the walking trail, take two lefts, and it will bring you to where the garnishes are picked. I have many packaged and ready to be delivered but have failed to arrive. Do me this simple favor and I will excuse the remaining fee."

"Sold!" Pinkie accepted, lugging the sack of bits off the table. She then pushed the pouch into her mane, where it sank like quicksand, much to the stallion's dismay. "I'll be back before you can say floccinaucinihilipilification!”

He squinted, “that’s not a word.”

She deadpanned, “tis so, behold.”

Her forelimb returned back to the black-hole of a mane she had before pulling out a dictionary. The book flopped onto the stand before she flipped it open and jutted the tip of her hoof onto a highlighted section.

He was suspicious but accepted her challenge and glanced inside.

“Oh my God, it’s a word,” he exclaimed, leaning forward and skimming the page. “Flo—floc—what kind of chaotic entity thought this word would ever be used in everyday conversation? How in Celestia’s name is this even relevant in this century, what does it even mean?”

“It means having a habit of always viewing something as worthless. Fun fact for ya, it’s also the word that gave me Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia. Which, ironically, means fear of long words.”

“I… I—" He just stared with enough dullness to match a blank sheet of paper. He slowly flipped a sign on his stand from 'open' to 'out for lunch' before wetting his lips. "I'm going to borrow this."

He inched the dictionary off of the table and tucked it under his forelimb.

He may have sniffed out her reverse psychology, but he didn’t do such a good job with stalling.

He continued to mull over the words she had introduced to him. “How does one even begin to pronounce these words? Strawberry Sunrise, Straw—there you are. Come, come, look at this nonsense!”

He waved over an audience within minutes as Pinkie merrily bounced down the sidewalk, knowing she had more than her fair share of time to kill.

Worked like a charm, every single time.

“...Was it take two lefts, o-or take two rights and one left?” The forlorn mare veered to her right to examine a pathway. “Wait, did I take a wrong turn?”

Ah, yes…Pinkie’s unfortunate curse that made her easily sidetracked had stranded her in Celestia knows where. It had been a simple mistake, really. Her eye had caught onto something fluttering in the breeze, a leaf, that led her to a flower with a feeding butterfly. It had been a while since she had some alone time, and so, her mind locked onto whatever was interesting at the time being. Pinkie had been cooped up, suppressing her natural energy for Twilight’s sake, but her rising boredom caused her to become antsy.

So she followed the butterfly. Why, you may ask? She didn’t even know herself.

Out of sheer curiosity? The utter desperation to do anything else? Possibly both?

Well, the world had decided to punish her for once more being unable to follow the simplest of tasks. So here she was, pacing circles in the dirt with fruitless attempts to recover her own tracks.

The forest’s humidity was dense. Pinkie could feel sweat starting to dampen the back of her neck and shoulders. How long had she been out here? She couldn’t begin to guess, perhaps minutes, hours…years? Time was often a funny thing, it could fly by, or it could stretch into unpredictably long hours of anxiety.

“Evil butterfly,” she muttered, “it knew what it was doing. It knew my weakness.”

Pebbles crunched under her hooves while she swatted away weedy sticks that brushed against her face. Bugs swarmed the stuffy air while the crown of sweat she had slipped a few droplets down her temple. Pinkie quickly rubbed the back of her hoof across her forehead with a fatigued exhale.

Why was it so hot? It was as if the forest’s temperature increased the more she explored it.

In fact, it was unnatural.

Plants were shriveled and bowed as if the heat was snuffing them out. The air was heavy with smog that mimicked smoking magma. Now, Pinkie was raised on a rock farm and was fairly educated with minerals and igneous landscapes.

Her father taught her a lot about it, hence his name, Igneous Rock Pie.

The thing was, there weren't any active or dormant volcanos in Canterlot. The smoke, the heat, and the putrid smell didn't make any sense.

"Hoi boy, that's stinky!" Pinkie said while waving the gnats and the aroma from her muzzle. "Gee, if this is what the Dragon Lands smell like, I feel bad for Spike."

She climbed over a few exposed roots in the ground before placing her hoof down on a rock to secure her grip. She was about to place the other, but she hesitated. Her hoof was vibrating. It was a gentle buzz like that of a purring cat, yet, it wasn't constant.

The sensation was like a hum. It grew and shied away at a set pace. Pinkie's throat bobbed while her eyes slowly studied the tree she had crawled over. It wasn't just her. The leaves were bouncing ever so slightly. It was hardly visible to the naked eye, but with focus, she could observe them dancing.

“Something isn’t right here,” she whispered.

If it was an upcoming eruption, it would be her duty to investigate and report it. Of course, this entire thing seemed fishy since her family did yearly inspections to detect radon when Canterlot ordered construction workers to dig. There was no way something like this would slip through her father's hooves. He would have been able to sense it.

She carefully placed her hoof on the dirt. Pinkie closed her eyes and held her breath, gingerly massaging it into the grass. The hum continued to pulsate, and if she were to describe it…it was like—erm, not necessarily a heartbeat.

No, no, a heartbeat was more of a tap. This was more like… like—

—Breathing.

Was something…breathing under Canterlot?

"Is…it a dragon?" Pinkie questioned while removing her touch from the ground.

Couldn't be a hibernating one, they didn't burrow. She wasn't an expert, but when dragons went into a deep sleep, the cloud of smoke would be way thicker than what was here. The buzz was too docile and the smoke was too thin.

Her eyes narrowed while she crept deeper into the thicket.

That’s when she discovered an abandoned pit. It was bare, freshly dug, with no markings of any kind to explain its presence. She inched closer, ears flattened, while she tip-toed around the mysterious discovery.

Her muscles locked when a hiss emerged. It puffed tense smoke from the opening.

It was about as forceful as a geyser and had a surprising blast of heat. It was like when Pinkie opened the oven after it had been baking.

Her heart sank. Could it be that her father had been wrong? That would do unspeakable damage to their reputation. If there was magma bubbling to the surface in preparation for an eruption, they'd be responsible for their failure in detecting it.

She had to take a peek. Perhaps since she detected it early, they could still have an uneventful evacuation. If it were what she thought it was, the growing tension in the earth was relatively small. Pinkie may be able to salvage enough time and information to spare her rock farm from unintended fault.

She carefully approached the pit, listening for rising steam in hopes of avoiding another boiling cloud.

She crouched, making it a priority not to fall in. Pinkie Pie pulled herself the rest of the way by hooking her hooves over the side and anchoring her hindlegs in the dirt.

Her eyes peered over the side, and for the hundredth time that evening, her heart was filled with the weight of concrete.

A tangerine glow met her gaze. It radiated a heat that couldn’t be denied, and the scent of sulfur was that of a confirming seal on her suspicions.

Her family was wrong.

Her throat was sticky. She was panicking, and her expression was sickly. Hundreds and thousands of ponies would have to be evacuated. The ash cloud alone would suffocate whoever stayed when it got into the dangerous phase.

"No, no, no, no!" She bellowed while clutching the edge of the pit like that of a filly and her blanket at night. "This—no, I don’t know what to do! Limestone had to have known this, Igneous had to have known this!”

The light blinked out. She was met with darkness for mere seconds and her fur bristled. Her spine iced over and she didn't dare move. The light vanished, she wasn’t seeing things, it disappeared and reappeared dozens of meters down.

She felt a knot in her chest. Her body quivered as a thin and transparent casing slid over the light. This exposed a darkened mass that was jagged, like that of a python’s slitted eye.

The hum grew fiercer, and Pinkie’s hooves slowly removed themselves from the rim of the burrow.

“That’s definitely not magma,” she hoarsely admitted.

Not magma, she now knew that it was an eye. An eye that had been watching her.

Her reflexes kicked in when the creature writhed from within its den, opening what appeared to be a maw dribbling with thick saliva. It pumped a stream of blinding fire, which hungrily climbed upwards. Pinkie threw herself back, knocking the back of her head when she landed. The fire gushed like that of a fountain while she shielded her vision from the light in hopes of avoiding going blind!

It crackled and sizzled, and it she were any closer, it would have boiled her skin to blisters!

“Chea uko zkugo.”

Her ear flicked when met with the disembodied voice. It was rugged, unearthly, and raucous like that of braying thunder. Its words made even the ground tremble at its presence, not that she would have blamed it, she was shaking just as hard! Something was coming. She could feel its body twisting and convulsing from under her. The noise of something rubbing against the unearthed rock was deafening, while a creature merged itself with the pillar of flames.

The beast’s body was serpentine with the colors of a midnight shadow. Its features were not all exposed, but she was only focused on one.

Its mouth was open as if it were displaying intimidation. Globs of saliva hung down from its scaled jaws before coating the rocks below it. Pinkie wrinkled her nose before slapping a hoof over her muzzle. The smell was horrendous!

“Ftuh uko chea yuppox,” it rumbled while leaning forward to wash Pinkie in its shadow.

The creature's eye alone sized up her entire body. It didn't move, almost as if it were expecting her to speak. The noises it made, were they words? It didn't appear to communicate the way she would, so she shakily brought up a hoof.

She gave a crooked smile while waving, "s-salutations, my reptilian friend. I'm Pinkie Pie, and I welcome you to Canterlot. I would offer you a warmer welcome, but I’m afraid ‘ol Pinkie got herself in a little pickle and doesn’t have her welcome confetti with her.”

The creature's lip curled while a transparent wisp of smoke ascended from its nostril.

It didn’t seem to understand her, or maybe it did and didn’t like her.

“Uh, erm...I—I’m a little out of practice when it comes to communicating with members of the drake family. Uh, let me try this,” she cleared her throat before pressing both hooves into her chest and bumping against it. “Me, Pinkie Pie. Me, lost… Pinkie Pie means no harm. Do you understand…the little pink…pony?”

It opened its jaws and let out a shrieking roar. The air that it produced had enough force to knock Pinkie flat onto her back with her limbs sprawled into the air! The beast’s eyes were inflamed with a ruddy glow and trained on the mare below it. Pinkie stuck out a hoof to deflect it, even though she knew it would not stop the creature from diving forward.

“Nyah! No, no! W-Wait, might I remind you that feasting on ponies is very, very, very against the law! I-I may look plump to you, but I'm warning you that you'll only get a mouth full of lard. You don't want that, right? O-Our Gala servers much better food, I Pinkie Promise!"

“Chea ikr quo, quekhup.”

Those noises, they had to be some kind of language. The creature didn't appear to be a dragon. It had no wings or limbs. Even if it were speaking the tongue of the dragons, Pinkie was useless at deciphering it. Of all the days she required Spike!

It's ridged brow suddenly perked. There was a grinding sound as if it were rubbing its teeth together in thought before it snorted.

Pinkie was hit with a wave of rancid smoke and her lungs sprung into action with a multitude of coughs.

The sharpness of it caused her eyes to water as she tried to swallow her disgust.

She fanned herself, “wowie that’s some…urk, some breath you’ve got there bud. Hey, why dontcha come back with me and I’ll give you a welcoming gift! Us ponies have some interesting inventions that I think you’ll like. We’ve got mouthwash and toothpaste, a really.. urp… really awesome thing that keeps your teeth nice and strong. Wouldn’t want those teeth getting unhealthy, right? Ya know, biting through rocks will do some damage.”

She gave it a charming smile, but it didn’t return it… thankfully.

“…Quekhupj uko u jhkunvo kuyo,” it replied, the tone of it knocked down a few notches.

It retreated, pulling itself back into its den before tipping its head upward. The scaled serpent sank into the pit, once more sliding against the rock and causing that hated sound. Its scales sawed against the ground, slipping back into the heart of the earth to again lay dormant.

Pinkie’s legs were uncooked noodles. They were about as sturdy as a newborn foal. Her face was as pallor as the fogged landscape. This was a healthy fear. Any pony would quake in the presence of something with teeth meant to tear their flesh into ribbons. She couldn't tell if the dampness on her forehead was from the sticky steam or her unease. She could confirm her porcupine-haired appearance was definitely from what had just occurred, though.

She swiped a hoof across her forehead before buzzing her lips and flopping onto her rump.

Close call.

“…If you so much as make a peep!”

Pinkie had made her breaths scarce a long time ago, in fear that the creature would come out of its burrow to investigate again. This time, however, she held it out of instinct in hopes that she could blend into the smoke. What else was poking around out here? What was going on?

Should she hide?

Pinkie’s eyes ping-ponged from the rocks and trees in an attempt to reveal a hiding spot.

“Set up the cones, moron! If some pony comes waltzing around out here, we’re going to have a problem! Do you want your head on a platter?”

Pinkie's muscles froze and her eyes squinted. The voice was a familiar sound. It was as sharp as a whip, with a recognizable spice. The Element of Laughter veered around, watching as two grey silhouettes materialized within the fog.

“We can’t get him to leave you know that. He doesn’t listen to—”

The two bickering mares stepped out into the open. Marble’s mouth bobbed and her words stuck in her throat when she met her sister’s gaze.

Limestone’s eyes widened for a millisecond before icing over into undeserved wrath.

“What in Celestia’s plot are you doing out here, Pinkie? You can’t breathe in all this—”

“—Smoke, it’s smoke! Limestone, Marble, you won’t believe what just happened! I-I was lost, and my sniffer caught onto this really nasty smell and I followed it here…and…and—”

Limestone put up a hoof, “ya gotta tell me how much of this stuff you breathed in. We’ve been digging here for the past two days and hit a cinnabar vein. Had to clear the area and flush it out, it produces some nasty toxins that cause damage to the nervous system, and hallucinations—”

Pinkie interrupted, “—there was a snake! I-In this hole, right here! It popped out of the dirt like...like ‘pop-goes-the-weasel’ kind of sudden. It was HUGE, with orangish-red eyes!”

Limestone carefully stepped over a rotting log. She approached Pinkie, before carefully gathering her hoof with a deadpan. "Like I said, hallucinations.”

She tugged her sister away from the pit, but Pinkie ripped herself from Limestone’s grip.

“No, you don’t understand! There is this serpent that lives under Canterlot and he has been humming so much it makes the ground shake! Look, look!”

"Pinkie, the air quality here is hazardous. You have to leave," Marble encouraged with a tad bit of worry.

“Wha—no, no! This is being caused by a limbless dragon whatchamacallit! I don't know its species, but it looks like a giant snake, with razor-sharp teeth and…and, it's the dangerous thing here, not the fumes! We’ve gotta get back to Twi and tell her about—”

Pinkie began to walk forward but was stopped by two hooves on her chest from Limestone, "woah sis. Take it easy. You've inhaled way too much. Marble, help me get her out of here."

“You’re not listening to me!” Pinkie cried, once more pointing to the burrow in a failed attempt to convince her sisters.

“Yes we are, Pinkie. You’re just talking nonsense. We were hired to dig up granite so the stone carvers would have a decent canvas for their art. They need it to display their work at the Gala. This is a massive payout, sis. I ain’t about to chicken out of my job because my clueless young sister gulped down a few lungfuls of poisonous gas!”

Marble secured Pinkie’s left side by walking alongside her before speaking, “i-if I may…um, it sounds like you’re describing a wyrm…they've never been seen in Equestria. It’s just a hallucination, Pinkie…it happens when you’ve been in the smog for too long. Limestone had a few not too long ago.”

The older sister gave Marble a sharp look, but it was brushed off.

"It smells like sulfur! Cinnabar doesn't smell like sulfur, but the breath of a dragon does! We are breathing in a dragon's super smelly breath, and if you'd just listen to me and look down the burrow, you'd see that I'm—"

“—Enough, Pinkie!” Limestone shouted, making an echo that caused her sister to shrivel. “There is no wyrm, there is no dragon breath, you're giving me a headache! Aren't you supposed to be up in the castle anyway? What are you even doing out here? Don't ruin this for us. Unlike you, we have a lot of pressure on our backs while you flaunt around near Twilight's backside. If you screw this up for us, I'll promise you the next time you visit home, a knuckle sandwich will be waiting for ya!”

There were beads of sweat among Limestone's brow, and her eyes were needle-pricked. Now, Limestone usually walked around as if she had a chip on her shoulder, but this rage was suspicious. She looked frightened, and it didn't match her sudden outburst at all.

Tears were gathering in the corner of Pinkie's eyes. She didn't like being yelled at, and she hated that her sisters didn't believe her! She had a deep gut feeling that something wasn't right, something wasn't right, she swore it!

Pinkie Pie stiffened, refusing to walk anymore, "I wasn't hallucinating Limestone!"

There was silence.

Her breaths were sharp while the elder sister wiped her brow with a clenched jaw. The two had a staredown, neither of them giving into the other. The silence continued, almost foreshadowing Limestone's temper like the calm before the storm.

“…Limestone,” Marble forewarned, dragging out her voice to empathize caution.

Pinkie leaned forward, “I wasn’t hallucinating. There is more to the story and you two are acting fishy!”

“You callin’ me a liar?” Limestone pushed, while the other shied away with a thick swallow. “You’re telling me that a wyrm made this hole…not me, and I’m somehow making this all up? This…this…crazy story you dreamt up while trespassing into a toxic digging site? Are you kidding me?”

"…Can we do this when we are out of here, preferably with gas masks?" Marble interjected but was ignored for the sake of Limestone's continuing rant.

“Cinnabar exhumes a substance that smells like sulfur, that’s your dragon breath pal! I’m trying to get you out of here, but you’re being stubborn by dragging your hooves and flapping your gums about some hallucination! Then…you go even further by calling me a liar!”

"Limestone…she can't help it. She's under the influence of the toxins. She can't help her hallucinations—" Marble was once more hushed.

“—She hallucinates even without the gas! She made up some random pony in her mirror for years and never listens to either of us! I'm sick of it. It's dangerous!”

Pinkie’s heart cracked right down the middle. That was way too far.

That was a personal attack and Limestone knew it. Her eyes held a bit of a sting, but not enough to convince Pinkie she had remorse.

“Limestone—” Pinkie stopped, her throat burned. There was nothing she could do about her condition. Connecting this event to it made her sound out of her mind. She saw that wyrm, it wasn’t like the Mare in the Mirror!

She felt its breath, its tremors, and the damp vapor from its roar. It was real!

“Well—” Limestone was surprisingly interrupted this time by her more timid sister.

“That’s enough, arguing won’t solve anything. Please, let's just get her cleaned up,” Marble pleaded. The three sisters eyed one another, but the frustration in Limestone’s face released its tension.

“You’re right…you’re right,” she repeated, gesturing for Pinkie to move forward. “Let’s just get out of this stupid biohazard."

A wet rag plopped itself onto Pinkie’s eye. She flinched when the cool water dribbled down her chest. She shivered, making the droplets fling off of her shoulders.

“That should help the irritation calm down,” Maud explained while massaging the cloth into place. “Try not to do this again, Pinkie.”

“My eyes feel fine, Maud! You’ve always been able to understand me, doncha think I'm a bit too young to already be off my rocker? I'm serious, what I saw was really there!" She argued, as Limestone gingerly rubbed her own eardrums.

“Here we go again!” The opalish gray mare whined while leaning against a rock near the creek.

Marble flicked water from her forelimbs while assisting Maud in flushing out the reddish haze in Pinkie’s eyes. She then addressed the well-known smart Alek.

“Let her rest!”

Maud was patient, but silent, even though she was under Pinkie's heavy gaze.

"Come on, come on! You know that wasn't cinnabar. I'd be on my back with my legs in the air if it were! I was breathing it for a long time, I'd be history!"

Maud took the cloth from her eyes, "We've been clearing it out long before you came. The effects are hardly noticeable because most of it had been neutralized. All you got was a bit of puffiness. You should be well enough to return back to Canterlot."

“…Uk-b-but, you don’t believe me either?”

"We need to get back to work. Can you stand?" Maud asked, nudging Pinkie onto her hooves and keeping her steady until she no longer wobbled.

The pink earth pony's nostrils were flared. She couldn't believe none of them believed her! What she saw was one hundred percent, without a doubt, real! They were just dismissing her as if she were droning on and on about something horrendously boring!

Her face was so red she feared it would pop.

“I-I, well, f-fine! If my own sisters won’t believe me, perhaps some pony back in Canterlot will! Maybe Twilight knows about wyrms…or Fluttershy, Granny Smith might even have a tale about them. I betcha they’d open your eyes to prove to you that I’m not crazy—”

Granny Smith… why did that irk such a sickly feeling in her stomach.

Pinkie’s jaw bounced while her brain slowly clicked the pieces together, “…Applejack!”

She had forgotten about AJ…oh boy, she was supposed to get those garnishes hours ago! Pinkie bit the inside of her lip while a coldness crowned her noggin. Her blood was starting to freeze. Applejack was going to chew her out for a week, a month even!

“I need the quickest way to Canterlot, pronto!” Pinkie commanded, resisting the urge to beg on her knees.

Maud tapped her chin, unable to think any slower. Pinkie leapt up to snatch her shoulders, hooking her hooves around her sister before shaking her as if her life depended on it. Because it did.

“Huuuuuuurrrrry,” she groaned, as Maud pointed toward an eastern path.

The dirt road was unmarked but looked to be recently trampled on. That would have to do.

She hardly had time to say her goodbyes, and frankly, she kind of didn't want to. Now she was wrapped up in a whole heaping mess, and no pony believed that she ran into a serpent-wyrm…thing!

Her hooves were pounding the dirt on autopilot, no time to stop and smell the roses while she put all the energy she had into barreling toward Canterlot’s main city. She could see the golden glow of the towers peeking out from above the trees, glittering in the falling sun. It was sunset, ponies would be packing up for the day for a long-deserved rest. That was bad, really, really, bad for Pinkie.

“No…nononono! I need herbs, leaves…spices!" Pinkie cried while her hooves smashed down onto the concrete road leading into the city. "Is any pony having a sunset sale? Those are really in this year!”

Alas, her cries went unnoticed. Blankets were draped over stalls, shop owners were beating the dust out of their welcome mats, and lights were snapped off. Pinkie's breaths were elevated while she twisted and turned to view all her options slowly coming to a close.

Her eyes slowly stopped at the familiar spot where a certain stallion used to sell garnishes. Placed on a folded blanket was her dictionary, closed and abandoned.

Her spirits sank.

She didn't have the heart to go and fetch it. Pinkie had failed.

If that wasn't a gut punch, the worst was yet to come. She'd have to face a furious Applejack without anything to protect herself. No excuses, no promises to do better, no body armor. All she was equipped with was a frown and a bare spirit that was already beaten.

With weighted steps, she forced herself to face her tongue lashing. Her vision was blurred, thoughts were running wild, and she was once more on autopilot. Her head was bowed, counting the cracks in the sidewalk until they turned into blades of grass. Anything to brace herself, anything to distract herself…the glumness was punishment already.

She could hear sharp commands from a southern accent while the scent of flowers welcomed her into the courtyard. The lump in her throat decided to enlarge itself when she picked up on what was being said.

“Ah’m sorry, you’ll have tah tell them to remake ‘em all. All four hundred, ah made a mistake and didn’t order them correctly. I thought ah’d be able tah fix it but I never got what ah needed.”

Her pace decayed, and she couldn't bring herself to announce her presence.

“At least we got some of ‘em, this will just backtrack me a bit…quite a bit. Uh, ya’ll get some rest now…ah’m sorry ah couldn’t make it easier on ya. Truly…ah’m sorry.”

Pinkie watched as the disgruntled catering group tossed the rejected and expensive dishes back into their battered wagon. She flinched when they gave Applejack looks that could kill, while she clutched her clipboard with enough force to snap it in half.

Pinkie pressed her lips thinly when she was finally recognized.

The look she received was worse than anything she could have said. Applejack was purely disappointed. Not just that, her friend was smoldering so much anger Pinkie could imagine her ears whistling like a teapot!

“Applejack I’m—”

She provided a wedge between them with a hoof and didn’t reply.

“B-But I saw something in the forest and I—”

Applejack took off her hat and ran a withered hoof through her mane in an attempt to calm herself down. She then puffed her cheeks and shook her head, making the frayed ends of her mane brush against her neck.

“Pinkie what in tarnation are ya’ll even talking about? Ah…just, ah can’t deal with this right now. Please just leave me be, ah’ve got a lot to clean up.”

She then secured her Stetson onto her head, running her hoof along the edge, before nodding to her friend. Even though she was trying to leave on a good note, Pinkie could tell she had stretched AJ’s patience to a snapping point. She didn’t dare call her back. All she could do was whimper her urge to patch things up and let her friend lick her wounds. She had taken all the beatings for Pinkie Pie’s inability to fetch a simple item, and by the looks of her, they had been quite exhausting.

So, she was left in the courtyard to mull over her mistakes.

“….I really tried,” she whispered.

The courtyard’s lanterns fizzled out, leaving Pinkie in the shade of the oncoming darkness. The buzzing chatter died down, the sun’s warmth was fleeting, and Luna’s night sky was approaching. Pinkie was left alone on the grass. The pain from mustering the strength to hold back her tears was the only thing she could focus on. All she could hope to do now was to retreat back to her chambers, and pray, that tomorrow would be in her favor.

So, Pinkie did just that. She gathered the pieces of herself that were left and hauled them back into the castle. She kept her head low, and her presence unnoticed when she slipped through the crowd. Perhaps the little tickle in her ear came from those calling her name, but she didn't notice.

She could hear muffled voices and eyes on the back of her head. It wasn't often others saw her without her chipper demeanor. Yet, they saw it tonight.

The walk to her room could have been long or short. She wouldn't have known how long she had been pacing. She could have been walking in circles for all she knew.

Fortunately, even in this state, she had found her way through the winding halls. She pawed at the door with a meek swat of her hoof. The door's groan echoed in the vacant hallway. Her head met the darkness first, while her hooves avoided the abandoned confetti on the flooring.

She used her back hoof to knock the door closed.

Pinkie stood there for a few moments, unmoving. Her face was withered, no longer vibrant bubblegum but instead a soft pastel pink. The mare slumped onto her tailbone without a word.

She had ruined many things in one day. It was truly record-breaking because she had never messed up this bad before. Applejack was probably having an in-depth talk with Twilight about her failures right at this moment.

Pinkie Pie rubbed her hooves up and down her face. How was she going to explain this one?

Tell Twilight that she found a wyrm burrowing in the ground? No pony, creature, or princess would believe such hearsay.

Why was this happening to her? Why would her mind go out of its way to betray her like—

There was a settled chill on her shoulders. Slowly and ever so slightly, Pinkie’s hooves fell from her face so that her eyes could peek at the mirror on the vanity.

Her.

Pinkie’s blood was boiling once more. She had been sabotaging her all day! Of course, this was the Mare in the Mirror's doing. Who else played her mind like a sock puppet?

The smog covered the mirror’s glossy surface. Glittering and slinky metal chains reflected a crimson light’s ambiance. The red glow cut through the darkness. The owner of the light materialized from behind the glass wall. Her hooves were strapped tightly, unmoving, along with her bound hindlegs. Her ears were perked, her mane misted and woven with fog, and her eyes watched with unpredictable emotion.

Pinkie slowly stood up, not a millisecond passing without breaking eye-contact.

Pinkamena's breath puffed onto the glass while she adjusted her position within the chains. Pinkie winced when the chains clacked, but she didn't stop approaching.

She stopped three feet from the mirror and peered up to meet the imprisoned mare’s winter gaze.

Pinkamena’s forelimbs went up in a ‘W' with a dismayed shrug, “…what?’

“What? What do you mean, what?! You've been messing with me all day, and you know it!" Pinkie chastised, with a hoof pointed directly in the center of Pinkamena's chest. "Don't try and be smart with me, Pinkameanie. I've been with you long enough to know when you're beating around the bush!'

“First of all—” Pinkamena wet her lips before putting up a hoof, “—you can’t beat around a bush if there was never a bush. Second of all, innocent until proven guilty. Third of all, I literally have no clue as to what you are referring to.”

Pinkie rolled her eyes with an extremely vocal sigh, "here we go again, acting allllll aloof! You’re guilty because I know you’re guilty! You’re always guilty!”

The mare clicked her tongue in disapproval, “such tasteless accusations, Pinkie. Just a thought, and hear me out, have you ever considered that I’m not the base of all your issues? The root of all evil sprouts from the seed you let grow, like narcissism, you’ve heard of it right? The illness that makes someone believe they are self-important and blames everyone else for their problems—”

“—I’m not a narcissist, Pinkamena!”

"What? Whoever said that you were? Clearly, you are far from such a title.”

She tipped her head to the side and gave Pinkie a fanged smile. One would mistake it for something genuine, but Pinkie knew her long enough to know she was only teasing.

Pinkie Pie’s expression tightened into one of frustration, “have you ever considered that maybe helping instead of being sarcastic could make us both a little less miserable?”

"I've considered it, yes." Pinkamena began before slowly raising her shoulders with an elfish grin. “But alas, my hooves are tied.”

She jingled the chains purposefully while snorting back a laugh.

Pinkie’s expression didn’t change, “that wasn’t funny.”

Pinkamena looked offended, “oh, don’t be such a stiff. You love jokes.”

“I don’t like your jokes. There’s a difference,“ Pinkie argued while brushing past the mirror and leaving her hallucination behind.

“Eayt, htij ij ftch fo nogok sero,” Pinkamena responded, once more speaking that undecipherable gibberish she favored. “You wound me—”

Pinkie had abandoned her by going into the bathroom. She had learned over the years not to give into Pinkamena when she baited her. Yet, so long as she was in front of a mirror, her witty shadow would always follow.

Before she could claim her own refection, Pinkamena had stolen it. She appeared within the bathroom’s mirror without a second’s delay of silence.

"—See, this is what I'm talking about. I try to talk about my feelings, and I get the cold shoulder. Then when I'm quiet, you look at me as if I've grown three heads. Such a complicated little thing to make happy, aren't you? Keep in mind this is coming from a mare who's seen you nearly foam at the mouth when given three balloons as your only birthday gift."

Pinkie raised an eyebrow while she collected her toothbrush that had been left on the sink’s countertop.

Pinkamena continued her rant, “three balloons, what kind of child gets that ecstatic about rubber? Not that I’m judging, oh no…I’d never. My goal here is only to simply state the complexity of your happiness. Sure, balloons bought at a discounted warehouse would suffice, but Pinkamena’s existence? No, no...that’s where the line is drawn in the sand. Now let’s act as if she pees in my cereal every morning.”

Once she had emptied a bit of toothpaste on her brush, she popped it in her mouth. She began brushing, moving her eyes to the reflection of the mirror's bronze framing to try and get a good look at her teeth.

The imposter in the main mirror still didn’t stop ranting, “speaking of birthdays, aren't we turning twenty? Others may mature a little faster than you, but I'd say you're at the age when you pop open a gallon of ice cream and cry about not wanting to die alone, eh? I would like to not die alone, here, chained up like an animal. You have no idea how much these things chafe! Gods, what I'd do for a bottle of baby oil."

Pinkie flicked her brush outward, making some of the toothpaste splatter on the glass, "are you done?"

“About halfway through. You aren't done, though. You missed a spot right—to your left, Pinkie, your other left…downward, there you go," Pinkamena pointed to the middle space in between her teeth. "You got it, now as I was saying—"

Pinkie rinsed her brush under the facet before setting it back onto the sink in silence. She then exited the bathroom leaving Pinkamena in complete darkness.

"You're welcome!" Pinkamena called after her but in vain. “Je heayto, so rude.”

Pinkie's hooves clopped on the flooring while she approached her bedding. Climbing onto the plush mattress, she weakly coaxed the blankets to cover her bare body. She shivered within them, once more looking out into Canterlot’s skyline.

She fluttered her lips, “half the things you say I don’t understand. You speak random words, then switch back to English…while being sarcastic all the ding-dong day. Maybe if you weren’t so mouthy, we could get along. I could really use your help. I don't know what's real or not anymore."

Her follower appeared within the small mirror beside her window with a raised brow.

Pinkamena brushed one of her neon bangs from her muzzle with a bit of a scoff, "oh, that wyrm was absolutely real. You should tell everyone in Canterlot, pronto.”

Pinkie's eyes flickered with offense, "okay, now you're crossing the line. I've already been chewed out today for making things up in my head. I don't need you to mock me too."

“What would I gain from lying to you?” Pinkamena argued, her eyes not providing much information toward her objective. “Ah, and I suppose you are blaming me for this strange happening? You think I’m floating my little hooves in the air and creating him from voodoo magic?”

Pinkie plugged her ears with her hooves, "yes, that's generally how hallucinations work. You should know this since you are one, and the only thing I want to know is why? Why would you do that to me? I’ve always been kind to you—”

"—Ha, yeah okay. That's a lie if I've ever seen one, total bull. You left me in the bathroom to wallow in my sorrow. That's the complete opposite of kindness. If you want to start being kind, I suggest getting me some baby oil."

“Okay, okay…maybe we’ve gotten off on the wrong hoof lately. Please…please just stop messing with my head, Pinkamena. I really, really, need to do well here. If you'd just lay off being a stinker for a few days, you might surprise yourself with how much better our life would get."

Pinkamena puffed her lips in a grimace. "I didn't create him. You were under the influence of cinnabar, as your sisters called it. I'm only one hallucination within your mind, and only you have the power to create them. It's quite lonely here anyway. I wouldn't mind having a friend."

“I’d be your friend if you’d let me,” Pinkie seethed.

“I don’t want to be your friend. I want to be the wyrm's friend."

“See that right there is why you are left in the bathroom to wallow in your sorrows,” Pinkie said before rolling over. She saw her clench up as if she was physically smacked across the muzzle. “It’s late, Pinkamena. You can argue until your heart’s content tomorrow when I’ve got my mojo back.”

“…Below the belt that one was,” she grumbled.

“Sleep, Pinkamena,” Pinkie repeated.

There was silence for a few moments, but once more, it was ruined by her illusion’s suddenly talkative nature.

“Do you truly request my assistance? Even knowing fully well how I am? Kindness and patience are not words listed in my vocabulary if you catch my hint, here.”

“Would be helpful,” Pinkie muttered, already falling victim to night’s embrace.

“Ftuh u hokkizpo ixou zah i fipp uquajo ih,” Pinkamena whispered, her outline fading out from the mirror and instead replaced with Pinkie’s.

The fatigued mare could see the bags under her eyes once the smog had been cleared. Pinkamena had vanished, surprisingly. Yet, even though her body had disappeared, her last words did not. They echoed within Pinkie’s head with a soft and foreshadowing chuckle behind them.

“….As you wish.”