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.”