Spilled Ink

Chapters

2 - Working
3 - Meeting
4 - Befriending
6 - Exploring
7 - Performing
8 - Hiding
9 - Walking
10 - Befriending II
11 - Thinking
12 - Searching
13 - Researching
15 - Dreaming
16 - Remembering
17 - Remembered
18 - Awoken (Finale)
1 - Waking
5 - Wondering
14 - Flying

2 - Working

"Rise and shine, Ink Blot!"

I sat up in the unfamiliar bed and rubbed my eyes, not entirely rested but still better off for having gotten what sleep I had. Apparently your mind didn't rest properly on the first night in a new place, which right now felt at least a little true. Applejack, the orange one with the hat, had knocked and stepped into the guest room to wake me

"We've got a long day ahead of us, so come get some breakfast before it's gone!" she said before stepping back out.

My stomach rumbled. Breakfast sounded good, smelled good too; I could smell the cooking from here. I washed up and headed down. Outside, the sun was barely beginning to peek over the horizon.

Sure enough, Big Mac was in the kitchen frying away, pouring batter onto a skillet and flipping it expertly. On the table was a stack of pancakes, as well as a thing of syrup and two jugs, one with apple juice and one with orange. Applejack and Apple Bloom had already dug in, leaving two empty place settings for myself and Big Mac. I greeted them as I took a spot and started eating as well.

The pancakes were good, nothing super special to say about them other than that they were fluffy and the syrup was genuine maple. We ate our fill, and the four of us went outside. Like yesterday, the most essential chores were taken care of quickly before we made our way out to the fields. The rest of the chores would be completed by myself and Applejack once most of the day's work was done.

"So, applebucking." I prompted Applejack as we made our way out into the fields.

"Th' easy part is gettin' them down, the hard part is movin' all the baskets and packin' the apples. Normally we sort of balance it 'tween th' three of us, but an extra set of hooves will make it easier," she explained. "Big Mac an' ah will do most of th' buckin', but you can try your hoof at a few trees if you want a go."

I nodded in understanding and we stopped outside of one of the sheds. Inside there were several types of harnesses, but the ones Big Mac brought out were rather interesting. They were designed with hooks above the legs and across the sides of the chest, with which the baskets could be picked up by the handles. It would allow one person to carry multiple baskets at once, leveraging more of their leg and body strength. We put them on and went to work in the orchard.

We quickly worked out a flow to the job. Apple Bloom and I were on basket duty, transporting as many baskets as we could carry to the packing area while Applejack and Big Mac filled them. I could carry two without much trouble, one on each side. Apple Bloom, deceptively strong for her age and size, could carry three - one on each side and one balanced on her back. The baskets filled up startlingly quick, with Applejack and Big Mac systematically going from tree to tree with practiced ease. With one or two bucks the trees dropped the vast majority of their apples. By the time the sun had risen high into the sky, I'd lost count of how many trees we'd cleared.

"Would ya look at that," Applejack said when she called for a breather. "You two are doing a fine job."

"It goes a lot smoother with two of us, that's fer darn sure." Apple Bloom replied.

"It's not hard, just leg work mostly," I shrugged. "These harnesses are pretty nifty though."

"It's a family specialty. Granny designed it when they settled here." said Big Mac. It was the first thing I'd heard him say that wasn't a yes or a no.

Our breather included a stretch, and a brief sit down where we had our fill of water. The sun was strong today, but a nice breeze blew through the orchard, rustling the leaves.

"You know, I'd like to have a go at applebucking." I said eventually.

"Alrighty then, you see that apple tree there?" Applejack pointed.

"The one with the two knotholes?"

"Yep, that's her, give it a try yourself and we'll give some pointers." she nodded.

I hesitantly squared myself up with the tree, looking at the way the apples hung, looking at the trunk to see where the best spot to hit it was. Once I'd found a spot and angle that looked right, I spun around and gave it a kick with all my might. The impact gave off a thick woody thunk, and the whole tree shook. I felt the shock resonate in my leg bones, and was rewarded by the sound of apples landing in the baskets we'd laid out earlier. However, it was only a fraction of the apples from the tree.

"Not bad, not bad, considering you've never tried it before," Applejack began.

"I'm sensing there's something I'm missing?" I asked.

"For starters, you don't know what ta look for in the apples yet. If you were ta pick them by hoof, the easiest way is ta twist towards the branch, right? There's too many apples for that, but it's a similar idea. You need ta hit the tree so that the shakin' works them loose. 'Course there's the follow-through on the kick too, you don't leave your hooves on the trunk because you'll mess with the tree's shakin'. Watch what ah do closely." she described as she did her best to demonstrate for me. She picked a different spot than I did, which I noticed was opposite the side of the tree which had the most apples. I saw what she meant by the follow-through; almost bouncing her hooves off the tree, hanging in the air a moment, then returning to the ground as the apples fell to the baskets.

Applejack gestured to another tree, and I went over to it another go. I followed what she'd demonstrated, and while this time I didn't get nearly as many apples as she did there was still a marked improvement over my first attempt. She had me do it a few more times, giving a few more pointers on maximizing apple drop, but there was only so much she could tell me. Most of the technique would only be developed with practice and experience.

While Applejack was having me practice, Big Mac and Apple Bloom quickly got to work moving the filled baskets. Big Mac alone could carry six of them, owing to his size and strength. We quickly worked out a rhythm, and I managed to start clearing the trees in less than three hits. When I tired out, Big Mac switched back to bucking and I got back to the carrying. By the time lunch rolled around, it seemed like we were almost done.

"So whereabouts is Sugar Belle? I would have thought she'd be out here since it's all hands on deck." I said to Applejack as we were going back to the house.

"Naw, she's working at Sugarcube Corner, apprenticin' under Mrs. Cake. That's why she came ta Ponyville, asides from bein' with Big Mac." she shook her head.

"Eeyup." Big Mac said, blushing a little

"Hands?" asked Apple Bloom.

"Baking's a good business, I hear." I commented.

"An' Sugarcube Corner is the best bakery in town," Applejack said. "They'll probably be able to start a second location down in Appaloosa with her help."

Lunch was leftovers from last night, warmed in the oven. It wasn't quite the same, and there wasn't any cobbler left, but it was still quite good. Instead of continuing to harvest in the orchard, we turned our attentions to packing up the apples. They went into an assortment of crates and casks, packed with straw so they wouldn't bruise during transport. These were loaded onto a very large cart, which Big Mac pulled with ease.

"If you don't mind me asking, where are the apples going?" I asked Applejack once Big Mac had taken the first cart-full.

Applejack wiped the sweat off her brow. "Well, th' other day some big-wig from Canterlot came asking about our apples, and was willing to pay a lot of bits to get a lot of them quickly. He cut a deal with the Railroad company to let him bring the apples up on the Express, so Big Mac is bringing the cart to th' station."

"How quickly did this guy want them?" I asked.

"Ah said we could fill the order in a week an' a bit. He offered a bonus if we could do it quicker. Never did say what they were actually bein' used for."

That was reasonable enough, and I didn't want to pry any further. The rest of the afternoon we spent packing up apples, loading them onto the cart, and sending them off with Big Mac to the station. There must have been a few hundred of the various containers. When the last of what has been picked was packaged up, Apple Bloom excused herself on "Crusader Business", leaving Applejack and I to do the evening chores.

It was much the same rotation as we'd done last night. The chickens and pigs were fed, the fields were watered, various bits and bobs were returned to the sheds for the night and prepared for use tomorrow morning.

"You were a big help today, Ink Blot." Applejack said as we finished up.

I shrugged. "All I did was move baskets and fill barrels."

"Don't need to do more than that to be a big help, sugarcube. Sometimes the smaller apples taste the best."

"Like wild berries versus store-bought ones. The storebought ones tend to look pretty good, big and plump and juicy, but fall short in the flavour department." I said.

"Well, that's what ah said!" she chuckled. "We'd have probably needed to work into tomorrow if you weren't helpin' with the movin' and packin'."

"I'll help out as long as you've got work. Past that, I'll need to look into something with a paycheque."

We were silent for a while, just walking back to the house. I was trying to be modest, but compared to yesterday everything was finished much earlier. The sun was lowering, and it seemed to give everything a soft golden glow. I'd been focused on working all day, focused on getting through it, that I didn't know what to do now. My mind started to buzz with questions about myself. Nothing major, but little things. What did I do with my spare time? Did I do sports? Did I play games? Music?

I didn't have any answers for myself, at least without some sort of catalytic experience like I'd done last night. At the edges of my mind the fog began to slowly build up. The mental fog seemed lighter than it did yesterday, but it was just as impenetrable. At a certain point some threads of memory just... ended. I could recall strange things like the order of operations, and the fact that it was taught differently in different places, but I couldn't figure out where I'd learned it, and which place my version was taught in. And that was only scratching the surface.

"Well, we've got a bit of time on our hooves, any thoughts?" Applejack asked.

Thoughts? I had lots. Who am I really? Where am I? Why am I here? What took away my memories? How am I going to make a living?

"Ink Blot?"

"Sorry, what? Did you say something?" I sputtered.

"I asked if you had anything you wanted to do." Applejack said with a look of concern.

I took a quick moment to think. "If it were up to me, I'd have a refreshing drink and relax a bit."

"That sounds fine by me." she agreed.

The sun's glow was captivating. Hard to imagine that it was so far away, doing the things it did, when it was close enough to give us light and warmth, close enough to make things beautiful.

Applejack and I had gotten out some lounge chairs and set them up on the balcony looking towards the sun. Between the loungers was a side table, where a variety of bottled drinks sat in a bucket of ice. I selected one of the colas, something called "Sparkle-Cola", and gave it a try. Sweet, with a mild carroty aftertaste, and a good fizz. Applejack selected another one, a sort of sarsaparilla with a sun emblem. We simply sat there and sipped our drinks.

All the questions I asked myself filled my head again. I took a deep breath and tried to organise my thoughts and lay out what I knew. I didn't remember my identity. I was somewhere I didn't recognize. I didn't know why I was here. all of my memories had chunks blocked out. On the plus side, the Apple family was kind and welcoming, and willing to put up with me as long as I could offer my help.

I needed answers. I couldn't get those answers by myself, at least not yet. Until I got those answers, I was lost and confused. The wise thing to do when your own means failed was to turn to others for assistance.

"Applejack," I began. "What do you think of me?"

"Ah think you're a good worker. You've got drive, and aren't afraid to try new things. Heck, ah could tell you were willin' to put in the work to improve. This mornin', you hadn't ever done any applebuckin', but you listened to what ah said and tried your best." she replied. "Why do you ask?"

"I appreciate your honesty. Do you think there's anything weird about me, something strange or off?"

She thought for a moment. "You haven't used your magic once for the whole time you've been here. Not to work, not to eat, nothin'. Most ponies like you can't last a day without magickin' somethin' or other, but ah don't have any magic an' ah do just fine."

Magic. That tracked with the whole unicorn thing, not to mention Sugar Belle had been making liberal use of levitation last night. "I don't have a really good grasp on what's "normal" around here. That's why I asked." I said. The words felt awkward in my mouth.

"Well that's alright, you're not from around here. Nothin' to be ashamed of." said Applejack.

Something in her voice put me at ease. She spoke her mind when asked, and was willing to forgive my ignorance. I should probably just go ahead and tell her my conundrum. Maybe she knew someone who could help. Besides, I should answer her honesty with my own.

"There's no easy way for me to say this," I sighed. "I think I can trust you not to think I'm deranged, but this won't be easy to believe."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I lost my memories and woke up in the woods yesterday. I don't actually know who I am, or where I am, or anything about myself." I said.

"You can't remember... anythin'?" Applejack looked at me. I could tell she was mulling over my words, trying to make sense of them.

"There's some things here and there which sort of pop up but everything else is in a sort of fog in my mind. I could have been enchanted, I could have been hit on the head, I could have just had a bad night on the town, I don't know. I just... don't know." I tried to explain.

"It don't make a lick of sense, but ah can tell you're tellin' th' truth." she said finally.

"Oh, thank god." I said in relief. "I wasn't sure you would trust me."

A tense silence started to rise between us. Maybe I'd sprung it too soon. Maybe I'd misjudged her character. I sipped more of the carroty soda, allowing the silence to grow.

"I probably shouldn't have told you. You've got a lot on your own plate anyway." I finally said.

"No, no it's alright Ink Blot. Just thinkin', is all." she reassured me.

I chuckled to myself a bit. "Don't suppose you know anybody who could help out?"

"There's one pony ah know who's good with memories, an' that's Starlight." Applejack nodded. "Only, she's a mite busy these days."

"When's the soonest I can meet with her?" I asked.

"She's in charge-a th' School of Friendship, an' that usually takes up most of her time, but she could meet with ya outside of school hours. Ah could bring you by tomorrow mornin' even." she replied.

"You won't need any help with the applebucking or the other chores?"

She shook her head. "We've just about filled th' whole order, all we've really got to do is bring th' last of it to th' station an' send it off. Big Mac an' Applebloom can handle that just fine."

"Then it's settled." I concluded.

In the distance I heard the creak and clatter of the cart as Big Mac returned. I went to get up but Applejack stopped me. "If they need us they'll holler. There's somethin' ah should explain to you too, since you're bein' straight forward."

"You don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable with it." I tried to assure her, but she stopped me with a look.

"It's not me, it's Granny. She does a good job at hidin' it, but she's slippin'. Sometimes her mind goes back to a different time, she calls us kids by our parent's names, she talks about folks long gone like they're still around. We've been puttin' up with it, but some days she's actin' like a stranger in her own house." Applejack sighed.

My heart sank. There was only one way this story would inevitably end.

"Some days are better than others, like yesterday. Ah think she knows what's comin', more than she lets on. At first th' Docs put her on some medications, but those didn't help much. Made her act funny, and took a lot out of our savin's. When she found out how much it cost, she insisted we take th' shipment job you were pitchin' in with. She also said she doesn't want us to spend any more on her than necessary." she continued. "We probably wouldn't have finished on time without you."

"You trust me that much? It's more personal than I expected."

"It's an open secret. Anypony could ask if they wanted to know. Most folks don't, out of respect for Granny. She founded Ponyville, you know. Her and the rest of the family, selling Zap Apple jams and jellies and bakin'." Applejack said with a half smile.

She would have said more, but a holler came from downstairs that it was supper time. We finished our drinks and went in to wash up.

3 - Meeting

The next morning I woke up naturally. Today was more overcast than yesterday, and slightly humid to boot. I'd have put money on it raining later, but I had none. But that was beside the point, as I had a different conundrum to deal with. That being my memories.

Last night I'd had a look at some of the books on the shelves. Most were various fictions, some of heroes and magic, some romance, some crime noirs, but the most eye-catching was a series called Daring Do. From what the cover had said, it starred the titular pegasi who went adventuring on the Equestrian frontiers, vying for control of precious artifacts against her villainous rival Dr. Caballeron and the evil Ahuizoltl. Some of the plots seemed contrived, and the books hadn't been touched for awhile. One of them still had a bookmark inside from whomever had been reading last.

I had a stretch, freshened myself up, and went downstairs to the kitchen, where Applejack was waiting for me.

"Well lookie here, ah was just about to come wake you." she said.

"Morning, Applejack. All ready to go?" I greeted her.

"Yep, just grabbin' a quick snack." she replied. On the counter was a bowl of sliced apples.

"Spare a slice?"

Applejack nodded and tossed one my way. I went to catch it in my mouth, but it just bounced off my nose. She chuckled a bit as I recoiled, but tossed me another one. This one I did manage to catch and chewed heartily. She shook her head in mock disapproval before scooping the missed shot off the ground and giving it a quick rinse before eating it herself. The slices left in the bowl were poured into a lidded container, which was placed in the saddlebag that she was wearing.

"Just a snack for the road." Applejack explained.

"How far is Ponyville?" I asked.

"Not long at all. Half an hour walk, abouts." said Applejack.

"Then pitter patter." I began.

"Let's git at 'er." Applejack finished.

I was fairly quiet on the walk to town, mostly due to anticipation. I'd only seen this town from afar, and heard a little about it from Applejack. To try and relieve that anticipation I took in the scenery. Most of the area outside town is, or was at some point, farmland. You could tell by the scattered copses of trees, and by the shadows of the old field boundaries, and of course by the fields that were still being tended. Applejack waved at a few of the other farmers as we passed by.

You know," I said as we passed a group of farmers hard at work. "I think it's best if we keep my little secret as close as possible. I could attract some unfortunate attention if it reaches the local rumour mills."

Applejack stopped for a moment and held her hat over her chest. She solemnly said, "Not my secret, not my place to tell. Ah'd only bring it up if it were in th' interest of safety. It's rude to gossip behind a pony's back, anyhow."

"Thanks. Hopefully I can figure it out with the help of your friend. What was her name again?" I replied.

"Her name's Starlight. Starlight Glimmer." said Applejack.

"Where abouts does she live?" I asked. We could just now see the edge of town. Ponies were out and about doing all sorts of things. Sweeping their doorsteps, chatting with friends, going for a walk, hawking their wares out of various stalls in the street.

"She lives in the big ol' castle on the other side of town."

I frowned slightly. "It's a pretty striking place. Has she done any additions to it, or did it come like that?"

"Well, it sorta sprouted from the ground one day." she chuckled.

"Sprouted from the ground? Is there some kind of tree that grows castles around here?" I questioned her.

"Sorta, until a while ago at least. It was this magical tree in the Everfree Forest, under the old castle's ruins, had these things called the Elements of Harmony that my friends an' ah used to defeat evil. It's a long story."

"No kidding." I said skeptically.

In the skies above a rainbow coloured streak zipped and zapped through the air. It went straight through several sizable clouds, smashing them into dust. I had to wonder how that worked. Applejack didn't comment on it, so it must have been a fairly common sight around here.

For all intents and purposes Ponyville seemed like a nice little town. Not so large that it got claustrophobic and lacked space to actually move around; not so small that it lacked some of the nicer things about city living. The houses were old fashioned, with thatched roofs. Their walls were made of white plaster, with thick wooden poles at regular intervals, and planks to cover the diagonals. As we walked down the street a few people stopped and said quick "Hello"s and "How's the family"s to Applejack, the various polite things you'd say to someone you see often but aren't particularly close to. It was all so... benign. For some reason I couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. Something about being here made the hairs on the back of my neck stick straight up.

Then something up high caught my attention. At the very top of the large carousel-like building in the centre of town there was a flash of movement. Danger? A moment after I'd spotted it, it vanished. It probably wasn't dangerous, at least not yet. Whatever it was, it unnerved me. I suddenly felt exposed in the wide street, and kept an eye out for decent cover. I relaxed slightly when we passed a building that broke the line of sight from that tower.

If something went down, what was my plan of action? Evasion and escape. Here, near the centre of town, the buildings were clustered tightly, with narrow alleys leading all over. I'd be able to stay out of line of sight and lose any possible assailants through those before making my way out of town. Lacking weapons, I'd need to improvise --

"Nervous in crowds?"

I half jumped out of my skin. "Y-yeah, sort of." I stuttered.

The crowd wasn't really that large, but it wasn't the crowd itself I was worried about: it was what the crowd could hide. Anyone who wanted to make trouble could hide themselves in one, could hide an explosive in one. A crowd meant danger could be lurking right behind you and you wouldn't even know it. But... why did I know that? It made sense, but I couldn't place why. The fog on my mind was as thick as ever, vast and impenetrable. It was less aggressive than it had been yesterday, like it was stabilizing somehow. A further thought brought on a shiver of existential dread. What would happen to the memories locked away behind the fog? Would they be gone forever?

"Well, here we are, Ink Blot." Applejack said.

The castle was much more magnificent up close. The entire thing was a crystalline structure that sprouted up like a tree, and in the branches of that tree was nestled a castle. Though it was really closer to a palace, since it didn't have much in the way of a built up defensive structure. It towered at least 6 full stories from the door at ground level to the very highest window, three times the size of the Apple Family Homestead. The last thing of note I could see on the castle itself were a series of scattered balconies. Beside the castle was a sprawling collection of buildings which I hadn't seen from the hill the other day. It looked sort of like a school campus. It probably was a school campus.

It seemed like we'd arrived at just the right time. A pink mare with purple hair had just left the castle and was on her way towards the campus. There was a light blue streak through her mane that caught my eye. "Hey, Starlight, do you have a minute?" Applejack called out to her.

She turned and waved to us with a smile. "Hi Applejack, just on the way to open up for morning classes. Who's your friend?"

"This here is Ink Blot, he's got himself a bit of a pickle that ah think you can help him out with."

I gave her a little return wave and a half smile, but it was hard to keep it up for long.

"Won't be able to help at the moment. Faculty meeting in fifteen minutes and I can't afford to miss it. If it's a friendship thing, Trixie would be glad for an excuse to miss it. Best to get in to see her before the day gets rolling anyway, the Counselor's Office can get pretty busy." Starlight chuckled.

"Can't you spare a few minutes?" Applejack asked.

Starlight sighed. "We can talk on the way to the meeting room."

"Thanks, Starlight." said Applejack.

The interior of the campus building we entered had high vaulted ceilings in a style vaguely complimenting the stylings of Ponyville, but it was much more ornate. I couldn't quite place the era, but it reminded me of some sort of church. "So what exactly is the problem?"

"So a few days ago I woke up in the middle of the woods without any memories." I said nervously, my voice cracking slightly.

"You just woke up there? Nothing else?" she asked.

"Well, it hurt to think, and I couldn't remember anything about myself. Who I am, where I'm from, social security number, what bank I use. I could remember stuff like algebra, but it's like there's some kind of fog on my mind. Or like someone spilled ink while trying to write."

Starlight shrugged. "Maybe you hit your head. Have you been to a doctor?"

"That's not all," I interjected. "I eventually found Sweet Apple Acres, and offered to work in exchange for a place to stay the night. But when we had dinner, I remembered something. It was the cobbler. My grandma made cobbler the exact same way, except with peaches instead of apples. For a moment, the fog lifted and I could remember her, because of the cobbler."

"That's pretty weird." she said after a moment.

"Do ya think you could do some of th' memory magic you did for Twilight with him?" Applejack asked politely.

"...Maybe. It's intriguing. What exactly do you want me to do?" Starlight replied.

I tapped the side of my head. "I want you to see if you can get rid of the mind fog. Clean up the spilled ink."

"That's a lot of metaphors."

"Well I don't have any other way to describe it." I shrugged , trying not to let my frustration show.

"Give me a moment." Starlight said.

Her horn was enveloped by a soft blue glow, the same blue that streaked through her mane. She lowered her head to direct her horn squarely at my forehead. I felt a soft tickle in the back of my skull, coaxing me, asking me to relax. It sent a shiver up my spine and down my tail. I closed my eyes, doing my best to try...

And nothing happened.

I looked between Applejack and Starlight awkwardly. Applejack shrugged. A bead of sweat formed on Starlight's forehead and she frowned. That frown quickly turned into a grimace as she began to shake with exertion. Suddenly, a flash of blue energy blinded me and threw us to the ground.

"Jumpin' Jackalopes-- are you two alright?" Applejack rushed over, the clatter of her hoof beats making my ears throb. My head hurt too, like I had a hundred migraines all at once.

I groaned and opened my eyes in time to see Starlight stagger to her hooves. "I-- what? That's not supposed to happen!" she panted.

"Well what was supposed to happen?" I asked groggily.

"That's not a head injury," Starlight said as she collected herself. "That's a curse, a very nasty one. It's blocking your memories. No doubt about it."

Applejack helped me up. "So someone did that to him?"

"Had to have..." Starlight trailed away before dusting herself off.

"Oh, wonderful. What the hell was that flash?" I muttered.

"The curse reacted negatively to my attempts to dispel it. Whoever cast it on you doesn't want you remembering anything." Starlight explained

"Can you still try and get rid of it?"

She thought for a moment. "...I'm not sure. I'd need a longer term study of it, and who knows the time it'd take until I got rid of it?"

"At least you tried. Enjoy that meeting, or whatever." I said with a sigh. I glanced at Applejack and turned to leave.

"Wait."

I looked back at Starlight.

"Come with me. I've got an idea."

Starlight lead Applejack and I back out of the campus and into the castle. The main entrance opened into a grand hall with many rooms along the sides, and a passage that lead around a circular room in the centre of the trunk. High above floated large crystals which cast light throughout the room. At even intervals, tapestries and paintings of various descriptions made the walls look less bare. She lead the way down one of the side passages, past the door to the central room which had been left ajar. Inside I spotted six crystalline thrones, arrayed around a large circular table.

We followed the passage, which twisted around that central room, with several passages leading off like wagon spokes. Moving down one of the spokes and went up a flight of stairs, we eventually entered into a single large library room that occupied at least three floors. All along the walls, from the floor all the way up to the roof were bookshelves absolutely crammed full of books. Two spiral staircases allowed access to the second level, while a single rickety ladder stretched up to the highest shelves. Even with the amount of shelving space, there were still stacks and stacks of books scattered around the room. Half a dozen strong wooden tables were scattered around the floor space, clusters of random pages, scrolls, and opened books adorning them. Starlight sat herself down at one table and unceremoniously shoved the mess onto the floor.

"Tell me about what happened again. I need to document this." she said as she floated out a quill and paper.

"What about the meeting?" I asked.

"Good point," Starlight replied. She quickly wrote out something on a sheet of parchment, then folded it and sent it away with a flash. "Sunburst can take care of it."

"Ah thought you said it was important?" Applejack questioned.

"It is! I just don't actually want to go to it. Now, tell me in as much detail as you can." Starlight smiled.

I began to explain what I knew, starting from the moment I woke up in the woods. I told it in much the same way as I experienced it, except for omitting the part where I'd been eavesdropping. That would have been rather awkward with Applejack right here. I did appreciate her being here to offer support, though she stayed relatively quiet. The quill rasped along the page as I spoke, filling one, then two. When I mentioned the cobbler, Starlight perked up for some reason.

"Describe the cobbler." she requested.

"A nice balance of sweet and tart, the apple chunks were soft and but not without a bit of crispness. Hint of cinnamon for taste. It wasn't one of those crumbly cobblers either, it was more of a soft bake. It was served with a side of vanilla ice cream, just a single scoop, left to melt a little before eating." I said.

"This cobbler, why did it stand out enough for you to mention?"

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I could almost taste it again. "When I ate it, something happened," I began. "The taste, the texture, the presentation, it jogged my memory. All of a sudden the fog in my mind lifted and I remembered that my grandma regularly made cobbler that was almost identical in taste, texture, and presentation. The only difference was that she used peaches instead of apples. It's probably one of my favourite deserts."

"Interesting," Starlight said to herself softly. "Have there been any other moments like that?"

"No. Something came close earlier today while we were coming to see you, but it didn't bring back any memories."

"Elaborate."

"Well, while we were walking down the main street. The street was busy, and in the back of my mind I remembered that I had to be wary of crowds. Could be anything lurking in a crowd, trouble hiding behind a friendly mask. Then, of course, I noticed something watching us from the top of that big carousel-looking place." I explained.

"Reminds me of Klugetown." Applejack commented.

Starlight's ears perked up. "On top of the town hall? What did it look like?"

"Didn't get a good look. It disappeared, probably because it saw me looking. Only reason I saw it was because of something reflective it had." I replied, and Starlight scratched on the paper.

"So that covers today and the day you arrived. Did anything happen yesterday?"

I shook my head. "I worked, I ate, and I told Applejack... this."

"Ah thought you'd be the best suited to help Ink Blot out, so ah said ah'd bring him here to see ya." Applejack added.

Starlight scratched a few more lines onto the page before setting it down. "Interesting. Very interesting. I can't believe I almost dismissed this out of hoof."

"I'm glad I'm "interesting" enough for you." I muttered.

"Well, as far as I know there hasn't been anypony with a curse that affects memory like this. I'm the local expert on anything memory related, which isn't saying much since it's not exactly a field many ponies are interested in. Given time, I can look into breaking your curse and restoring your memories to the fullest."

"I'm sensing a "but" coming."

Starlight nodded, "But there's no way to know how long it'll take."

"Of course," I scoffed. "What should I do in the mean time? I have no dough, no home, and no job. Could try picking up baking, but from what I hear the market's cornered."

"You can always stay with us, we always have th' room to spare." Applejack immediately chimed in.

"That won't be necessary. Ink Blot will stay in the castle, since I need to keep a close eye on that curse of yours. For observation, experimentation, and documentation." Starlight said. She collected her the sheets of paper and stacked them neatly on the table, then carefully put a lid on the inkwell.

I personally didn't have a problem staying with the Apples, but who was I to argue with a so-called local expert?

"Well, if you're gonna be stayin' here ah guess ah don't need ta keep waitin' around on ya." Applejack shrugged.

"And with my lack of luggage I won't need much help moving in." I commented dryly.

She chuckled a bit. "Take care of yourself. An' feel free to stop by Sweet Apple Acres any time!"

I waved goodbye as Applejack showed herself out of the castle.

It was suddenly very quiet in the library. A clock ticked somewhere in the distance, muffled by the vast amount of paper and parchment. A book whizzed past my nose and onto Starlight's table, where she began flipping through its pages. About a dozen other books followed it from all corners of the library, each one sort of haphazardly stacked and laid open wherever there was room. Within moments Starlight was furiously scribbling down notes from the half dozen books that were currently open. When one book was exhausted it was tossed onto a pile beside the table and replaced with another one from the shelf.

Eventually, I noticed a book on the table nearest me called Mythos Equestria. On the cover there was what looked to be a stained glass representation of six coloured gems. There were five arranged in a sort of pentagon, while the sixth was in the centre with lines radiating out towards the other gems. Each gem was shaped uniquely. The centrepiece was a light purple star, while the others were a red lightning bolt, a darker purple diamond, a blue bag-looking thing, a pink butterfly, and strangely enough one was an orange apple. That last one somehow reminded me of Applejack.

I looked back at Starlight, who was still engrossed in whatever she was doing. I felt like a kid waiting at a doctor's appointment. It was still bright out too.

"So, Starlight..." I began.

"Let's hear it." she responded without looking up.

"Where am I going to sleep?"

She looked at me and raised her hoof like she was going to make a point, but all she said was "Good question."

"If you don't show me I'll just have to wander around the castle aimlessly." I jokingly threatened.

"I'll show you around in a moment. I've got a theory here regarding your curse I'm trying to flesh out." Starlight finally answered.

"Could I hear it?" I asked.

She scribbled what I hoped were the last few lines and nodded. "Basically, it may be possible for you to subvert the curse with strong emotional reactions. I'm mostly working off of The Magic of Memories by Written Word, with inspiration from Das Lehrbuch Der Fernweh which was written over a hundred years or so ago by somepony with a name I can't even begin to pronounce. Oddly enough this isn't a very well explored avenue of magic or science, despite how prevalent memory can be in our culture, but I digress. If we can weaken the hold of the curse by connecting emotional experiences to the locked memories then we can possibly crack it wide open."

"Not necessarily the cobbler, but using the same concept." I said in understanding.

"Again, this isn't exactly a solid theory. We'd need more data to be certain, but we won't get that by standing around and feeling sorry for ourselves." Starlight continued.

"Any ideas?"

"We could try the one thing that seems to solve most problems around here." she replied.

"That being?"

"Make some friends!" Starlight said happily. "Go into town and just strike up a conversation with somepony."

I snorted. "Is it really that easy?"

"Well, you could try enslaving the minds of an entire town and brainwash them into accepting your ideology and removing their cutie marks with magic all because your childhood best friend got his cutie mark before you and was sent off to Celestia's School of Magic."

"How'd you turn that one around?" I asked skeptically.

"Magic of Friendship."

"Somehow that makes sense."

"But now's not the time to discuss past events which may or may not haunt our every waking moments and make us question every decision we've ever made or ever will make," Starlight proclaimed. "Now is the time for you, Ink Blot, to go and make a friend! As Headmare of the School of Friendship, I tell you to go out unto the masses and forge the bonds of fellowship that will last you a lifetime!"

I had to admit, the way she said the last part was rather moving. I'd have gone out right now if not for one thing.

"Soooo, how about that room?" I reminded her.

Starlight smacked her forehead. "Oh! Completely forgot. Follow me."

We left the library and returned to the winding halls. The layout was esoteric, every hallway looked the same, and there were over a hundred rooms with narry a label or a number to speak of. I could spend days exploring each room and never find the exit. However, there was something about the way that the crystal that made up the castle shone and reflected the light above that made it feel alien and distant. It didn't really feel like a home, not like the Apple homestead did.

Eventually Starlight halted at one of the intersections. "Here you go. This whole wing is pretty empty, and I never use it, so make yourself at home."

"Really? You're just giving me a whole wing to myself?" I said in astonishment.

"This castle has space like you would not believe. Even when Twilight and Spike lived here they only touched one of the wings. There's six total, and they sort of spread out like a star. Most of the space is vertical, so it's all spread across three floors worth." Starlight explained.

"It's very kind of you."

"It's nothing. Go make yourself at home, and then go make yourself a friend!" Starlight urged me. She turned around and presumably returned to the library, leaving me to my own devices.

She was right about how little she used this wing. The floors were bare, and there wasn't even an old dusty tapestry to liven things up a little bit. There wasn't any dust at all, in fact. This wing seemed untouched, and probably was exactly the same as the day it (allegedly) sprouted from the ground. Something in the way the lights shone gave it a dingy feeling. Overall, it wasn't a very welcoming place.

But that wasn't any reason to stand around and wax poetic. So, I wandered on through to get a feel for my surroundings. It seemed that each wing could function as a self contained living unit, with all the essentials a royal would need. There was a kitchen large enough for a team of chefs, a large banquet hall that could probably double as a ballroom, probably six different bathrooms. On the second floor was a series of bedrooms as well as a smaller kitchen and attached dining room. The third floor was mostly empty rooms for storage or whatever, but one notable room had the remains of someone's sleepover supplies and a window that faced west. Around the window were an assortment of chairs and benches, as well as a collapsed pillow fort. I left it as it was, since I probably would never have any use for the third floor anyway. I also had to wonder how all these rooms fit into the overall structure of the castle.

I finally decided on a bedroom on my second walk around. It wasn't very large, just 15 by 12 feet, probably intended as a servant's room. It spoke to me. Not too large, enough space for a desk and some shelving if I wanted it. Just like everything else, the bed was made of crystal, though someone had gone through the trouble of putting some bedding and a mattress on it. Really, it wasn't much, but it felt like a space I could really grow into.

When I felt comfortable with my choice, I exited the room and left the door ajar so I could find it later, and made my way outside to make a friend.

Author's Note

that author's name was Freundschaftsbezeugung

4 - Befriending

Outside, the sun had begun to peek out of the clouds and brightened up the atmosphere considerably. The streets had quieted down from earlier, and the crowd had dwindled to a trickle of people going this way and that.

If I had to guess, it was just approaching noon. Could probably have done with a spot of lunch, but I still didn't have any cash. It didn't matter; there was a surprising amount of food you could scrounge without paying scratch. Foraging for plants and berries worked if you were in a rural area, but the scraps left in trash bins were easy pickings for someone down on their luck. Grocery stores and restaurants were your best bets, as leftovers and expired goods would just be throw out.

I'd cross that bridge when I came to it. Maybe I'd luck out, and sneak into some public function that was offering food. A sandwich foolishly left unattended. It wasn't honest, but in the face of survival virtues would fall to the wayside. The fog on my mind didn't provide any answers, but I had a gut feeling that I had experience with it. The kind of experience that never truly leaves you.

Oddly enough making a friend didn't seem as easy as Starlight had made it seem. I walked, and I walked, and I walked some more, making my way through the winding cobbled streets, but there weren't any opportunities that presented themselves. There were ponies all over on errands, in their little cliques, laughing and making jokes. I didn't really feel comfortable just butting in, so I walked onward.

At a certain point I didn't feel like walking anymore, so I sat myself down on a public bench across from a bakery.

Maybe I needed a plan. It seemed very weird to need a plan for making a friend, but planning helped me get my thoughts in order. Usually, a good friendship has a foundation on a shared experience or interest. Thusly, a friendship could develop out of any situation or event. All it took was striking up a conversation at the right time.

But when? There was any number of opportunities, I just needed to get out there and--

"What'ch ya doin?" came a mare's voice from above me.

I looked up, and was greeted by a pink pony with an even pinker shock of curly hair. She was looking down at me from the roof of the building behind me with a quizzical expression.

"Hi. I'm new in town, and I'm trying to make friends but it's not really working out for me right now." I said.

"Oooooo, I can be your friend! I'm a friend to everypony!" the pink mare cheerfully said.

"Well, that 's convenient," I commented. "I thought there'd be at least a few awkward conversations before that point."

The pink mare leapt from the thatched roof of the building behind me and landed with a flourish. "Then we can have as many awkward conversations as you want, starting NOW!" she proclaimed, stomping for emphasis.

I was sort of a loss for words. This mare was offering me her friendship without a second thought. Maybe Starlight was right.

"Sooo..?" I began off.

"How about checkers? Chess? Dragon Pit? Twenty questions? Trainspotting? Go-Fish?" the mare suggested as she produced a checkerboard, a chessboard complete with all the pieces, a box with a large volcano-like structure sticking out of it, a sheet of lined paper, a set of binoculars, and finally a deck of cards.

I shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe we could just sit around and chat about life? Get to know eachother before we go off doing something crazy."

"Oh. Not even a game of Corn Hole?" she suggested.

"Maybe Corn Hole," I relented. I was distracted by the sound of my stomach growling at me. "Know anywhere good for lunch?"

"Do I? It's just a hop, skip, and a jump away!" she happily said.

"Before we get too far and I have to ask an awkward question at a bad time, what's your name?"

"Everypony calls me Pinkie Pie, but my really really really close friends call me Pinkie. Nobody calls me just "Pie", that sounds too formal, and calling me "P.P." is right out! Sometimes when I write my name really fast it looks like Ponka Po!" Pinkie Pie replied as she hopped, skipped, and jumped across the street to the bakery I'd been facing. I got up to follow her, but it honestly wasn't very far to go. Pinkie reared up her hind legs and held up her front hooves like she was holding some sort of microphone. "Come and visit the one and only Sugarcube Corner! Owned and operated by the lovely Mr. and Mrs. Cake, Sugarcube Corner offers a wide variety of cakes, pastries, ice creams, candies, and just about any desert you can imagine! What do you say, ah, Mister..?"

"Ink Blot. My name's ink Blot." I supplied.

She just absolutely beamed as she waved me inside. "Well come on in, Ink Blot!"

The exterior of Sugarcube Corner much resembled the buildings around it, with one key design difference; the building looked like it was made of candy. The walls looked like milk and white chocolate, the windows resembled tinted sugar glass, the roof appeared much like layered disks of ginger cookies, and the highlights on the roof looked like piped icing. The back of the building had a tower that resembled one of those large layered cakes, with a smaller cupcake perched at the very top. A few patio tables were scattered around, with stools and chairs aplenty.

The interior of Sugarcube Corner remained consistent with the exterior aesthetic, but it wasn't quite so visually overwhelming. It was nicely laid out, with booth seating along the walls and some tables arranged through the centre of the space. At one end there was a counter with a large display case, inside which there was a stunning variety of baked goods. A yellow stallion wearing a baker's hat and apron was tending the counter. There were two ponies already in line, and a half-dozen of the tables were occupied.

"Nice enough place. How's the food?" I asked Pinkie.

"Absolutely delici-nominal! I should know, I work here." she said with pride.

I couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "Delici-nominal, eh? Guess I've got no choice but to try it.

As we waited in line the cotton-candy mare could barely contain her excitement, even though I could tell she was trying really hard. Instead of talking on and on like I suspect she wanted to, she was bouncing up and down on the spot. She reminded me of a puppy, somehow. A bright pink puppy, but a puppy nonetheless. In a few moments the pony at the front of the line had received their food and trotted off.

"Come on, look at all the yummy sweets!" Pinkie burst out, half-encouraging half-pushing me over to the display counter.

Was it a cop-out to say it all looked delicious? Phenominal? Delici-nominal? There were eclairs, there were cinnamon rolls, there were pies, there were croissants, there were donuts and doughnuts, there were cupcakes galore, and most impressively there was a veritable rainbow of macarons. There was only one problem.

I didn't have any money, and some of these looked rather pricey.

"Um, Pinkie..?" I began.

"What's the matter?"

"It's a little embarrassing to say," I continued. "But I don't have any money on me right now. I can't get anything."

"Oh, don't let that worry a little hair on your little head, you silly! I can cover you, and then you can pay me back later." Pinkie offered.

I considered it for a moment. "I dunno, I don't want to be in debt to anybody. Least of all to someone I only met today."

"If it's really a problem what we can do is set up a tab for you behind the counter. Get anything you want and pay when you can! Just don't try and skip town without paying~!"

"That's very kind of you, Pinkie," I accepted gratefully. "Only, corporate debt scares me more than personal debt, so I'll be fine with you covering me."

She smirked and gave me a playful bop on the nose. "Go ahead and pick out whatever you like, I won't judge."

So I did. I chose one of those croissants that had the chocolate baked into them. Pinkie, true to her word, paid for it without question. She herself produced a tray of cupcakes from seemingly nowhere, and lead me over to the corner booth. It was a window seat, and we could look out into the street as ponies went about their day without any worry.

"So whaddaya want to start chatting about, Inky?" Pinkie asked.

"Inky?" I frowned.

She shrugged sheepishly. "Ink Blot for short could just be Ink, and Inky is a more fun way of saying Ink, ya know? I like giving everyone nicknames."

"Nicknames can be easier to remember, sometimes," I commented. "I'm not always good with names. You could introduce me to someone at the beginning of the day and I might not remember their name by the end of the day. Makes it a bit awkward when you end up asking them a week later what their name is."

"I never had any problems with names. I know absolutely everypony and everycreature in town! I have to, otherwise I can't throw so many awesome parties!" she said.

"You throw a lot of parties?"

"I sure do! Birthdays, cute-ceañeras, weddings, anniversarys, holidays, even funerals. But I don't like the funerals as much. Being dead kind of puts a damper on all the fun, makes it harder to get everypony to laugh and smile."

I laughed at her last remark. "Yeah, death kinda sucks. You seem pretty committed to parties. What's your drive for it?"

"When I was just a filly, I saw the most amazing, breathtaking sonic rainboom while I was working on my family's rock farm. It. Changed. My. Life! As soon as I saw it I knew what I wanted to do; bring joy and happiness and make people smile just like I did when I saw the rainboom. Sooooooo, I threw a party for my family and they smiled for the first time in their lives! I traveled around throwing as many parties as I could, so everypony could smile and be happy! When I got older I moved to Ponyville, started working for Mr. and Mrs. Cake and rented their upstairs room. Then one day Twilight Sparkle moved to town, and on the same day Nightmare Moon escaped and a bunch of us went to go stop her from bringing Eternal Darkness and banishing the Sun from the sky, then it turned out all of us were the Elements of Harmony, then we went to the Grand Galloping Gala, Discord escaped but we turned him back to stone, there was a Wedding--"

"That's a lot of stuff to tell me for the first time we've ever met," I cut her off with a chuckle. "I'm probably going to be around town for a while, and you'll be able to tell me as many stories as you want. Let's focus on getting to know the easy stuff, first."

"Okie-dokie, Loki Bloke-y. What brings you to Ponyville, anywho?" Pinkie asked.

I sighed, but if I was going to make friends I'd need to be open. But not so open that my entire life story got leaked to the local rumour mill. Not that there was much of a life story, but the last thing I needed was to become a freak-show attraction. And I hated rumours. They tended to get out of control.

"It's a bit of a weird story, and I'm not 100% comfortable with sharing it yet. Can I trust you to use discretion in who you share it with?" I carefully asked.

"I can do a Pinkie Promise. I only use that for super-important things, except for that one time but I don't count that one time." she said.

"So I can trust you?"

"Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye." she replied, actually sticking one of her cupcakes in her eye before eating it. I guess she was pretty serious.

"I woke up in the woods two days ago without my memory and I'm trying to figure out how to get it back. Basically the going theory is if I can make emotional connections to my memories it'll bring them back, and the best way to make the emotional connections is go out and make friends." I explained quickly. Somehow I had the feeling that I'd need to explain this to a lot of people before I actually got any memories back.

Pinkie held up her last cupcake and inspected it before offering it to me. "You're gonna need this more than I will. Oooo, if you want I could keep an eye out for anypony looking for new friends and send them your way!"

"As long as it's not the eye you just stuck a cupcake into." I smirked, and graciously accepted her offering.

Just then, a clock on the wall chimed 2 o'clock. "Oh no, I almost forgot! I've got a party in... 5 minutes!" Pinkie exclaimed.

"It was nice meeting you, I suppose I'll be seeing you around?" I asked as she quickly excused herself.

"Yep, make sure to come to the Festival next week too. I'm organizing the party for it!" she said excitedly. She placed a flier on the table and ran out the door faster than I thought reasonably possible. I stayed long enough to finish the cupcake she'd given me, and went back outside to resume my search for friendship.

Now I had one more friend.

Maybe it was the cupcake, maybe it was the renewed confidence due to my success, but I felt different when I stepped out into the street. All I had to do was follow Pinkie Pie's example and put myself out there, to be bold. Strike up a conversation with a stranger and see where it lead me.

But just approaching any old bloke on the street would get me some odd looks. What I needed to do instead was put myself in a position to participate in a discussion or offer help to someone who needed it. So, I started walking down the streets again. For a moment, I thought I'd just wander forever like earlier, but then I heard a bit of music in the distance. Someone, somewhere, was playing the piano. And... I recognised what was being played!

There was only one thing to do. Find the source of the music.

I listened to the sound very carefully. It lead me to the east, past the town hall, and down a shady-looking side street. The houses here looked more dilapidated than the rest of town, and in a few places there were suspicious looking stains, but nobody challenged me or came at me with a weapon or even poured out their insecurities at my feet.

At the end of the sidestreet, there was a ramshackle building with a sign reading Ponyville Speakeasy. In other words it was the local pub. The door was propped open with a chair, and a rather large fellow with a leather jacket and a slicked back magenta mane was posted outside the door. The building itself seemed old, with haphazard modifications here and there. Regardless, it wasn't rundown like you'd expect. Someone clearly took pride in running their business. but most importantly, the music was coming from inside.

"Name?" challenged the greaser.

"Ink Blot. Is there some sort of list?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's a list of troublemakers. Don't cause trouble or you'll be on the list." he said.

"Is it a big list?"

"No." he said.

"Thanks. I'll keep off that list for you." I replied as I entered the Speakeasy. The greaser nodded at me enigmatically.

I had to admit, it was rather homely. The main room had a wide layout, with three different levels of seating. There was a row of stools in front of the bar, a raised platform to the left with a window and probably a dozen chairs, and to the right a spiral staircase which went up into a sort of loft area. Under the loft was more seating space, though it had been lowered a bit for more headroom. The building felt wonky, but that was mostly just because of the layout. There were a few ponies here and there enjoying a late lunch, as well as a few at the bar sipping out of oversized tankards. On the raised platform was a large upright piano, stained a deep cherry, at which a single pony sat.

He did not have any music out in front of him, and his hooves were almost a blur as he tickled the ivories. How exactly he managed to hit all the keys was a mystery to me. The tune he was playing had a swing to it, and he almost swung along to it. His coat was the colour of a reddish-orange maple leaf, and his mane looked oddly like it was covered with a liberal coating of powdered violin rosin. On his flank, there was a fiddle, but it had a set of piano keys along the board where the strings should have been.

When he finished his song with a playful flourish, there was a round of applause from the few people inside. I walked over to investigate. The unicorn mare who sat at a table beside him said "Play it again, Rags."

"For you, Ginger, anytime." Rags replied with a smile. With a rolling start, he launched right into another tune, this one similar in style to the first, but it had a different melody. Oddly enough I recognised that one too.

The mare, Ginger, was coloured a middling green. If she'd decided to hide in a grassy field, it would have been hard to spot her, if not for her yellowy mane. On the table beside her was a pot of tea, as well as two teacups. She saw my approach and waved in greeting. "Hey stranger, here for the music?"

"Yeah, I could hear it from clear across town." I said.

"Then you've got a good ear for music, kid." Rags replied as he leaned back to get a look at me. He had these small spectacles perched on his nose, with sort of oval-like lenses. "Tell me, son, what's your name?"

"I'm Ink Blot, new in town."

"Good to see fresh talent in town, Ink Blot. This cat over here bench-warming for me is Ginger Heart." Rags said before hammering out a run of chords.

"And this thankless charmer on the ol' whale bones is Ragtime Jones, but he prefers to just be called Rags." Ginger rolled her eyes at him, but she was still smiling.

Rags let out a booming chuckle and said to her, "Don't you worry, Ginger. I'd never forget everything you do for me."

"Tea?" Ginger offered me.

"What kind?" I asked.

"Take one guess."

"Uh, ginger?"

"Nope, mint." Ginger chuckled.

I nodded, and she filled a teacup for me. Taking a seat at the table, she set it down in front of me and added a straw. I took a tentative sip. Surprisingly it wasn't over-steeped, and it was the perfect temperature for me to drink. "Nice tea." I commented.

Ginger sipped from her own cup. "Made it myself just a while ago. I always like to share it, even if I could drink an entire pot on my own."

"And it's good for you, too!" Rags chimed in.

"So, you're new in town, Ink Blot?" Ginger asked.

"As far as I know. Woke up in the woods with some sort of curse that affects my memory. Running theory on how to get rid of it is to connect with the memories with emotional experiences," I explained. "The specialist I talked to said I should go out and make some friends to help with that."

"That's quite the conundrum. You got a place to stay in town?" Rags responded.

"Yeah, but I'm low on money." I said.

"I never cared for money. Root of all evil, I like to say. Bad jube-jubes." said Rags.

Ginger scoffed, "Yeah, that's why you've been crashed on my couch for five years."

"Darlin', I'm a music maker, not a money maker. I'd never sell my life and soul for a few extra bits at the end of the day."

"You're a mooch, is what you are." Ginger rolled her eyes.

"If you didn't like having me around you'd have kicked me out after the third month." Rags chuckled.

"Second month, more like." Ginger muttered.

Rags did one last run up the keyboard and finished his song with a dual chord. Another round of applause came from the speakeasy's patrons, and Rags did an over-exaggerated bow.

"How about another one, Rags?" I suggested.

Rags looked at me with a cockeyed smile. "That's what I'm here for, Inks my boy. Best piano player in town." Ginger stomped out a short beat, and Rags immediately jumped into a playful piece on the lower end of the piano.

Rags and Ginger seemed like quite the characters. Very much the sorts who went with the flow, Rags especially. I could hear it the way he played the music. He didn't play like he was putting on a show; he played like he was exploring the music right there beside the listener. He had the melodies in his mind, but between them there was a lot of space for the rest of the music to flow. And he didn't stick to the same melodies either. There were variations upon variations in bits that seemed the same at the surface level. Even an untrained ear like mine could tell his musical ability was operating on another level.

Ginger, however, was a bit more grounded. She had the money in their partnership, but even though she teased Rags there weren't any hard feelings between them as far as I could tell. And she was good with making tea. The two of them had clearly known eachother for quite awhile.

"Do you play often?" I asked.

"Everyday, unless something comes up. There ain't a piano, harpsichord, or organ around I can't groove with!" Rags chuckled.

"He's a savant, he is. No formal training, doesn't read music, and he does everything himself." Ginger added.

"The best music comes from the heart, darlin'. Don't need someone else's instructions to tell me what's good music. I just knows it."

I peeked outside, where it was starting to get dark. I'd been here a lot longer than I'd thought. "So, you'll be here tomorrow?"

"Yeah, we're here anyway most any-day. Except Saturdays, when I play at the Senior's Hall," Rags smiled happily. "Now those cats know how to groove."

"Then I'll be sure to come by again. I like the groove you've got going here." I commended.

Rags gave me a nod, and I downed the last of my cup of tea. It was cold, but it still tasted pretty good. I said bye to Ginger, and made my way outside to the street. The greaser gave me an approving nod, and I started on my way back to the castle.

It felt odd coming back to the crystalline castle. It felt alien, like it wasn't created by terrestrial life, but here it was. It lacked some of that character which the more naturalistic buildings in town had. Maybe Starlight had an explanation for that. Speaking of Starlight, where was she? As far as I could tell, the campus was closed up for the night, but she could have been staying late.

I also could have done with a bit of supper. I'd been spoiled by the big meals that the Apple Family gave me, and I think my body was expecting more of the same. There was probably something I could scrape together, assuming there were recipe books in the kitchen. Or maybe there was a container with leftovers I could warm up.

Starlight's wing of the castle had clearly been more lived-in then the one she'd granted me. There were rugs all over, a selection of appealing paintings and tapestries, and actual wooden furniture. Some of the furniture even had themed motifs. There were some which had the same stylings as the Apple Family Homestead with carved apples. Others had butterflies, some had thunderbolts, some had diamonds, and there was one which looked like the upside down bag I'd noticed on that book this morning. Although on second thought that was probably a party balloon.

Surprisingly though, Starlight's kitchen was occupied by Starlight herself. She had sat herself down at the kitchen table beside a half-full pot of coffee and a stack of papers. On a plate in front of her was an untouched cucumber sandwich. The lights were on low, except for the ones directly above the table.

"Hey, Starlight." I greeted her.

This startled her, and she dropped the pen she'd been using. She looked at me in a panic but was relieved when she recognised me. "Oh, hi Ink Blot." she sighed.

"Busy day?" I asked.

"Funnily enough when I agreed to be in charge of a school I underestimated how much work it was." Starlight said with a yawn. She poured herself a cup of coffee and gulped it down.

"Anything on for dinner?"

She shrugged and wrote something on the document in front of her. "Cucumber."

"Right on, it's sandwich night then." I nodded. There was a loaf of sliced bread in the bread box, as well as a dish of sliced cucumbers in the fridge, and a quick investigation revealed a pat of butter in the cupboard alongside salt and pepper mills. I also discovered a spice rack, and added a touch of dill to my budding sandwich. Once I was finished preparing it, I carried it over to the table across from Starlight to eat.

"So uh, how did the friend making go?" Starlight smiled, but quickly looked back to her papers.

I chewed my sandwich, enjoying the crunchiness of the cucumber. "Well," I began with a mouth full of food. "First I ran into a bit of an oddball, but I think we'll get along just fine. Name of Pinkie Pie. Baker, Party gal, and all that."

"Well, you were bound to run into her eventually. Very bubbly personality. She's all about having parties, especially for that gator of hers. She can be a bit insecure at times, but she's still a good friend of mine." Starlight commented.

"That's an odd coincidence, then. Why'd she notice me out of all the other folks in town?" I asked.

"That's her thing. She likes making people happy, making them laugh, so she has to keep track of what each pony in town responds to the best. If there's somepony new in town, she does her best to befriend them and figure them out. Pinkie's also got this... semi-prophetic sense where she can tell if bad things are going to happen in the near future. Maybe she saw you getting sad because you didn't have a friend? Did she start planning a party for you or something?" Starlight asked.

I shook my head. "No, she just asked me what was up, offered her friendship, then we chatted over lunch at Sugarcube Corner. Said something about a Festival coming up?"

"Right, the Festival of the Two Sisters, formerly the Summer Sun Celebration, also known as the anniversary of Princess Luna's transformation into Nightmare Moon and subsequent banishment by Princess Celestia over a thousand years ago. Coincidentally, it's also the anniversary of Princess Luna being reformed exactly 1000 years after her banishment. It's a very big event, celebrated all across Equestria. Now, was there anyone else aside from Pinkie?"

"After we ate, she had to dash, so I went for a walk until I heard music. Piano, slightly out of tune, being played in a ragtime style. For some reason I recognised the piece being played so I followed it into the east side of town, all the way to the Ponyville Speakeasy. Fella called Ragtime Jones was on the ivories, and his friend Ginger Hearts offered me some tea. So, I sat around with them for a while, chatted, and listened to the music." I explained.

Starlight poured herself another cup of coffee. "So that brings it up to three friends so far."

"Four, if you count Applejack."

"Four then. Since you're getting along with Pinkie and AJ, maybe I should introduce you to the others." Starlight mused.

"Others?" I asked.

"The rest of the six who defeated Nightmare Moon when she returned. Applejack and Pinkie are two of them, along with Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Fluttershy, and Twilight Sparkle. They harnessed the Elements of Harmony and returned Princess Luna to normal, then saved Equestria about a dozen times over." Starlight explained in a monotone, but quick voice. "Except these days Twilight's doing the business of running Equestria, so unless you have a reason to go up to Canterlot you're not likely to meet her. Unless she comes out for the Festival. Or alternatively one of the other hundreds of celebrations that request Royal Attendance."

That lined up with both Applejack and Pinkie's stories. "How'd you get involved with them, then?"

"I, uh, replaced their cutie marks and tried to force them into accepting my ideology when they came to the town I'd brainwashed. Then, when they turned the town against me, I tried to go back in time and stop their friendship from ever forming out of spite." Starlight said sheepishly.

"Dang, they trusted you after that?" I questioned.

Starlight nodded and gave me a half smile. "Exactly what I thought! Twilight has more integrity than I wanted to give her credit for. Even though my actions literally changed the fate of Equestria several times over, she still wanted to talk things over with me while I was trying to kill her. It's no wonder they made her the Princess of Friendship."

A short silence came over us, broken only by the scratching of Starlight's pen and the ticking of a clock mounted on the wall above the stove. I pondered Starlight's words while quietly munching on my sandwich. These "Elements of Harmony" seemed quite important, and the magic involved with Friendship seemed quite powerful. With enough power, you could protect the land from harm...

Or rule it with an iron fist.

A few ideas were sprouting in my mind, which I'd need to follow up on eventually. A ruler relied on the power of those that supported them to affect change in their land. This power could range from political influence, to financial support, to military strength. However, magic was a different power that - if my assumptions were right - could bypass the need for certain types of supporters. There would always be the need for support; to take and hold land you needed bodies to occupy it, and no one individual had the focus to manage every tiny detail of their administration themselves. But magic could function as a force multiplier, as a weapon against your enemies.

Those ponderings would have to wait for another day, however. Right now I had a much more important question.

"Starlight," I began. "What's a "cutie mark"?"

She looked at me blankly. "You really don't know?"

"No clue. What are they and what do they do?" I continued.

"Well uh... every Earth Pony, Unicorn, and Pegasus has a special talent, something that they're really good at. When they discover that talent, their cutie mark appears." Starlight explained awkwardly.

"Is it some kind of heraldry? Like, do families have a particular tendency towards similar marks? Everyone in the Apple family has some sort of apple design."

"Sort of? Sometimes. It's complicated, there's a lot of factors, and I don't like to think about cutie marks much anymore." she stammered.

"Oh," I said. I looked at my flank, at the splash of black ink. "I wonder what my cutie mark means."

Starlight shrugged. "Couldn't tell you, at least not right now. I want to get through all this paperwork. And... I mentioned it yesterday, but I have a bit of a... complicated history with that kind of thing."

"Right, that stuff with the village." I nodded.

"If you're really interested in the topic, I point you towards some local experts." Starlight replied. "Their place is located in the West Orchard of Sweet Apple Acres. Big old tree-house, but it's fairly secluded. Might accidentally pass by it a few times before you find it. Make sure to go between 11 AM and 3 PM, those are their Summer office hours."

"Thanks. I'll see them when I get the chance."

Starlgith gave me a half-hearted smile, then poured herself yet another cup of coffee. She rubbed her eyes one by one and continued her paperwork like I had never been there. Not having anything else to say or ask or add, I excused myself and went to my wing of the castle to get ready for bed. I rustled up a few extra pillows, and some heavier blankets for the cold nights.

When I finally got to sleep, I dreamed of a place far away. Though it was once wracked with turmoil and sadness, when I visited it in my dream it gave me a sense of peace.

Author's Note

6 - Exploring

When I woke up in the morning, I was feeling rather refreshed. While today was looking a bit overcast, that didn't mean it wasn't going to be a nice day. On the contrary, lots of good things would happen on cloudy days. I couldn't think of an example because of the bloody curse, since most examples were inevitably tangled up with specific memories. I could tell, since trying to figure one out ended abruptly in a wall of mental fog.

Cobbler happened on cloudy days, maybe? My grandma probably just made them whenever she felt like it, but since I couldn't exactly remember I could make up whatever I liked to please the narrative and nobody would know the difference. Except me. And that's why I probably wouldn't make it up.

I trotted into the kitchen with a slight spring in my hooves. And look who I might see, but Starlight sitting at the table exactly like she had the other night. A stack of papers on either side, a pot of steaming coffee to her front, and a mug to drink it from. There was also an untouched plate with two slices of toast, long gone cold.

"Good morning!" I greeted her.

"...It's morning?" she asked groggily.

"Uh, yeah. Friday morning, If the calendar can be believed." I answered.

"...Good." she sighed.

I made myself some slices of toast and buttered them liberally, and then decided that this morning I would make tea. I filled a kettle with water and set it to boil on the stove. There was a nice selection of teas in the cupboard, unopened. I decided that the jasmine blend sounded lovely. While I waited for the water to boil, I munched happily on my toast.

"Fancy some tea?" I asked Starlight nicely, putting on a bit of a comical tea-enthusiast accent.

She took a sip from her coffee cup, but finding it empty, she lifted the pot. somehow, in the time between me entering and now, the entire pot had evaporated. Or had been drank. "...You'd better not be from Trottingham..." she muttered.

"Starlight, if I knew, I wouldn't be here. Now, fancy some tea or not?"

She nodded. So, while the kettle was boiling I brought out the sugar bowl, and poured a little thingy of milk in case she liked her tea cloudy. The resident teapot was a stout, brown one that looked like it would hold up to 1.5 L of liquid, but would do just fine having only 1 L of liquid. Taking two teabags, I placed them in the pot while taking care to loop their strings around the pot's handle. Then, I poured the boiling water over them and watched the water take on a slight amber tinge. I nodded to myself in satisfaction, and brought the teapot to the table.

But that was only half of what you needed to enjoy a pot of tea. You needed cups to drink it out of. i checked the cupboards again, and managed to track down where all the teacups and saucers were. They had all sorts of designs on them, from simple but proud geometric stylings, to detailed and elegant renditions of flower arrangements. I picked out two that spoke to me and set them on the table beside the teapot.

"How do you like your tea, black or cloudy?" I politely asked.

"I don't drink tea that much." Starlight admitted, rubbing her eyes. She presented her used mug, but I pushed it away in favour of pouring into one of the cups I'd brought out. It had an arrangement of various wildflowers I didn't recognize, but they were still quite colourful. I pushed it her way, and she accepted the replacement.

I poured tea into my own cup, then sampled it with a quick sip. Still very hot, but I'd judged the timing right and the tea had just gotten the kind of flavour I liked. It didn't need any sugar or milk, as far as I was concerned.

"Give it a minute to cool down more," I suggested. "I guess you've been up all night, then?"

"...Yeah."

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for work?" I asked.

Starlight shook her head groggily. "Today's a statutory holiday. As dictated by one Princess of Friendship, Twilight Sparkle. Not even charter schools like the School of Friendship, that she founded, can ignore statutory holidays."

"Stat Holiday, huh? Why are you doing paperwork instead of sleeping in?"

"We're in the middle of exam season right now. I have to sign off on a million different little things, and oddly enough it's hard to work a curriculum around the concept of making friends. Trying to design rubrics is an incomprehensible mess. How many friends do you need to pass the course? If somepony doesn't have enough friends to pass, do you fail them because they didn't try hard enough? Or because nopony liked them? Every single student's situation is different, and since we have students from nations other than Equestria, there's cultural differences we need to account for. And then how exactly do you "test" a friendship? Do you manufacture situations that put strain on their friendship and see how well they cope? I've done that, and as poor Windy Terrace knows quite intimately, it never ends well! So do you know what happens instead?" Starlight began to rant.

"I, uh--"

"The teachers each come up with some sort of idea for every individual student, which they then have to pitch to me. So instead of being stuck in endless meetings with me for an entire week trying to figure out what they're gonna do, I asked them to submit through a form! So now I have at least six different forms for each student, and I have to look through each and every one of them to make sure there isn't anything that would, I don't know, put them in unnecessary danger or even kill somepony! We have over three hundred students here! That comes up to almost two thousand individual forms I need to sign off on! Two thousand sheets of paper that I have to pour over and make sure there isn't any sort of problem with any of them! And do you know what happens if there is something wrong? It goes back to the teacher who suggested it, and the teacher has to fill out yet another bloody form for me to look at!" Starlight was seething with barely contained rage at this point. "Do you know how much stress that's putting me under right now?"

I was taken aback. I didn't know what to say, if there was anything I could say.

Starlight grimaced as she saw my reaction. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't take it out on you. I shouldn't take it out on anypony at all, least of all you. I'm supposed to be professional." she earnestly apologized.

"Is being Headmare a lot of stress?" I asked carefully.

"That's a hard answer," Starlight sighed. "It's yes, but also no. Twilight founded this school with the intention of being its Headmare, and assigned the tasks assuming she'd be the Headmare for the foreseeable future. But who could foresee Princesses Celestia and Luna, who'd been ruling Equestria for thousands of years deciding to retire? Twilight didn't, and she was their chosen replacement."

"That's a weird system. Two people ruling for thousands of years, unopposed, then suddenly giving it up to someone random?" I commented.

"Well it wasn't entirely random. Twilight was Celestia's star pupil at her School for Gifted Unicorns. Celestia had been mentoring her with regards to friendship since the day Nightmare Moon returned. In fact, the anniversary of that's coming up." Starlight corrected me.

"Ah," I said. "So it's nepotism."

"Yes. Yes it is." Starlight replied flatly.

"Still a weird way to run a country." I smirked.

"Anyway, my point was that when I took over there were a lot of duties that were catered to Twilight's skill set as opposed to mine. Such as piles and piles of paperwork. I hate paperwork. But, the Big Ol' Book of Rules that Twilight herself wrote outlines the duties of Headmare quite clearly, paperwork and all. I can't go against the Charter of Friendship." Starlight explained.

I shrugged. "Maybe you need a secretary. To help filter through it, you know?"

"Maybe."

"Your tea is cold."

"So it is." she said.

I drank down my cup of tea and checked the pot. It was cold, and now oversteeped. So, I did the only logical thing.

I poured out the old tea and started another pot.

I think Starlight was grateful for my company, even if she wasn't too fond of tea. The two of us chatted for most of the morning, sipping tea as she did her best to scan through pages to approve or reject the exam proposals. Eventually though, Starlight got too tired to keep at it despite admitting to having drunk copious amounts of coffee overnight and into the morning.

Even as she reluctantly limped off to bed, I got the feeling that she was trying to prove herself. To whom, I couldn't tell. This mysterious Twilight Sparkle? Her students? Herself? Too early to tell, but still something to keep an eye on.

I also had managed to convince her to lend me a bit of spending money, so I could buy lunch later. It wasn't very much, at least I didn't think so. The system seemed to be built on fractions, and hadn't been decimalised. I liked decimals, they were easy to look at and all worked together nicely and made sense. I did not like fractions nearly as much, they were all different and didn't work together nicely and made no sense.

Before I left, I found a decent looking set of saddlebags to borrow in one of Starlight's many closets. I picked a pocket to keep the cash in, as well as remembering to pack a few essentials. With everything in order, I set out to wander the streets of Ponyville aimlessly.

Or maybe wandering wasn't what I was going to do today. I honestly felt like finding a cafe, sitting down, and waiting to see what opportunities would come to me. It wasn't long before I'd found one.

The street I'd found myself on was dedicated to groceries and eateries. None of them seemed appealing, until I encountered a nice little cafe across the way from a bakery. Oddly enough the cafe was called The Nice Little Cafe Across the Way, and it had an area for patio seating. I could smell something good coming from the bakery though, a nice little place going by the "Bread and Butter Bakery.

Unfortunately, the cafe's patio was full. And as I made my way inside, I saw that the indoor area was full as well. If I had to describe the place, it would be homey and nostalgic. Unlike the other cafes I'd seen today, which were upscale and modern, this one spoke to a simpler time. It had sturdy wooden furniture, a brightly varnished set of paneling along the walls and counters, and a clean aesthetic. Maybe it'd had a previous life as a woodworking shop, judging by the little shavings of wood I spotted caught in the cracks in the floor.

"Hey there, bud. What can I get ya?" asked the barista at the counter. He had this swirl of a mane on his head, an off-white colour in a style that resembled a cream puff, and his coat was a speckled white and brown. He had a green striped apron, with a nametag that read Cinnamon Swirl, and his cutie mark was a coffee cup with a spray of whipped cream on top.

"Got anything on special today?" I requested.

"It's on the chalkboard." the barista replied.

It looked like quite the deal. Your choice of medium drink and a muffin for 4 and a half bits. They were the big chunky muffins, too.

"How about a medium lavender latte, and one of those muffins with chocolate chips?" I asked as I placed what I thought was the right amount on the counter.

"Right on, is that for here or to go?"

I looked around. "I kinda would like to sit down, but it's kinda full."

"You can check the bakery, they keep a few tables there for the nice days. That's where the muffins are made, actually. The owners have a partnership." the barista commented, before presenting me with a few small coins in change.

"I guess I'll take it to go either way, then." I shrugged.

"I'll have your muffin in a jiffy, your latte will be on the counter over there" the barista pointed helpfully.

So, after getting my muffin I went over and stood patiently be the indicated counter, until I saw a familiar face trot up.

"Well whaddaya know? It's Inks. This medium lavender latte for you?" said Ginger Hearts.

"Yeah, that's mine. Didn't expect to see you here, Ginger." I commented.

"A mare's gotta work. Even if a certain somepony else doesn't believe in work." she shook her head disapprovingly.

I shrugged. "At least he's got that music going for him."

I thanked Ginger and took my latte with me outside. Interestingly enough, the takeaway cup had a surprisingly good seal when the lid was closed, and I was able to stick it into one of the saddlebag pockets, beside my muffin in its paper bag. I took the barista's advice and trotted over to the bakery across the way. The front of the store had a number of windows, each with a stocked display of various breads and related baked goods. Except for the largest one; through the big window, I could just barely make out a table with a scattering of chairs around it.

So, I walked inside.

If there was an epitome of family-owned businesses, this was it. The wallpaper was a vertical striped green and white, with faded gold trim. Along some of the corners the paper had been scraped away to reveal the drywall beneath. The trip had also been scraped, with glimpses of soft brown wood poking through. The displays and counters were a collection of what I assumed were secondhand purchases from businesses that had long since closed, though everything was used efficiently and effectively.

There was such a variety of bread and baked goods that I didn't know where to start. None of it was particularly sugary or confectionery based, but there was an honesty behind the presentation. What you saw what you got, and based on the prices written up on their board, it was at reasonable prices.

Behind the counter was a petite mare whose coat was a light goldenrod yellow, and her mane was a dark brown that was very close to becoming black. She perked up a little when I came in, saying, "Welcome to the Bread and Butter Bakery!"

"The barista at the cafe across the way said you might have some seating?" I asked hesitantly.

"It's over there by the big window." the clerk replied, pointing me in the right direction.

Though I'd hoped to be sitting alone, there already was another unicorn occupying one of the chairs. His coat was a sort-of fuchsia colour, though his short mane was a very nondescript grey. I probably would have overlooked him, if I hadn't been looking to sit down there. He was slowly scratching away in a notebook, and didn't even look up as I approached the table.

"Mind if I sit here?" I asked.

The writer looked up at me. His eyes squinted and darted about as he studied me, assessing me against something. "Why?" the writer warily asked back.

"I'd like to sit for awhile and have my tea," I said. "Across the way is full."

He glanced out the window with the same studious look he'd given me. When he saw that my words rang true, he gestured wordlessly to the seat furthest from him. I took this to mean that he was fine with me sitting here. So, I sat down with an empty chair between himself and me, and set out my tea and muffin on the table.

The tea was slightly too warm to drink comfortably, but the way to drink a hot beverage was to just deal with it and sip carefully. If you did it right, you'd only suck the very top layer of slightly cooler liquid. That was something that... someone who meant a lot to me had said once. Right now it didn't matter much, but I felt a distinct sense of loss and longing. It worried me; had something happened to them before I came here? My mind immediately jumped to something horrible. Maybe someone had sent me to get help, and they were waiting for my return. Waiting alone. Losing hope.

After a few moments my clearer head prevailed. If there was someone waiting for me, then I wouldn't even be able to remember where they were, how to get to them, or even who they were. Unless I got my memories back, I wouldn't have any way to help them. Assuming there really was trouble.

The lavender latte was good. Not something I'd have everyday, but on occasions when I wanted to change things up a bit. The muffin was the best muffin I'd had in a long time - well, in the past week at least. Definitely good enough for me to get a second muffin from the mare at the counter. Which I did.

"The cafe across the way sells your muffins, right?" I asked her.

"Yeah, the owners have a business partnership with us. We have a slightly better deal if you buy them here, but if you buy them there you're supporting two local businesses at the same time." she explained.

"I'd like another one then. How about blueberry?"

As she fetched it, I fished out a coin that seemed about the same as one I'd used earlier for the tea and muffin, setting it on the counter. I had no idea how much it was worth, since it wasn't said on the coin itself. It did, however, have an image of three ponies on it moving in a circle; one with a horn, one with wings, and one without either. The obverse had a coat of arms featuring a sun and a moon, as well as a bunch of letters around the rim saying something in a language I didn't understand. The mare set my muffin down on a plate, then slid the plate across the counter to me.

I was just about to take a bite from the muffin to see how good it was when the mare frowned and inspected the coin I'd set down. She picked it up, looked it real close, then flipped it over several times.

"Where did you get this?" she asked.

"In a bunch of change a friend of mine gave me. Why?" I answered her, puzzled.

"Your friend must be pretty rich or pretty stupid. This is a Triple Guinea, solid gold, only minted once 43 years ago during an economic boom to promote spending. Nopony could ever remember how much change to give for it, so it fell out of circulation less than a year of minting. It's a hot collector's item nowadays." the mare recited without pause.

"With Starlight? More like pretty forgetful," I frowned to myself. "How much is it worth, exactly?"

"Face value? 36 bits. Not a lot, considering inflation. Going by gold value it would be about 200 these days depending on purity and the stocks, but there was one that went on auction a while ago that was something like... several hundred thousand bits. I'd ballpark it at something like 300,000 odd, depending on who's interested in it."

I blinked. "I guess I should keep that one then. Is this one any good?"

"Not quite, that's a two bit penny. Got another bit in there?"

"Is this a bit?" I asked, holding up a coin that seemed smaller than the tuppence.

"...That's a Griffonian Nickel."

"Is that enough?"

She sighed. "No, that's not even legal tender in Equestria. And no, I'm not a money changer or a banker, no matter how good I am with making change from obscure coin denominations."

"Oh." I said. I looked at the coins I'd taken out, my ears starting to burn in embarrassment. "You're, uh, very good with money aren't you?"

She rubbed her forehead. "And you're the opposite, aren't you?"

I suddenly did not want to be there anymore, even if the muffins were good. I was being too awkward to bear. The mare picked up on this and tried to reassure me. "No, it's okay, don't worry about it. It's just that it's not every day somepony comes in with a pocket full of coins and doesn't even know what they're worth. I'm guessing you're not from around here?"

"Y-yeah, bit of a long story though." I stuttered.

"I won't pry, but you're not going to get very far without knowing money. If you have time after my shift's over, I could do my best to teach you." she offered. "My name's Pennyfarthing, by the way."

"Uhhh, sure?"

"Great! I'm done at five, want to meet at the town hall? It's got some quiet spaces in the new library." Pennyfarthing smiled.

I nodded before I'd fully thought through it, which made me feel rather flustered. "I guess I should tell you my name too."

"Yeah, that'd be nice." she replied. An awkward pause passed, as for some reason I couldn't remember what my name was to say it. Only when she cleared her throat did my name finally return to me.

"I'm Ink Blot," I said quickly. "Sorry."

"Yeah." she said. A few more moments passed as I looked everywhere except at her.

"...Bye." I finally said, taking my muffin and going out the door.

As I passed by the big window outside, I saw the writer glance out at me. He frowned, then looked over his shoulder at something. If I'd been less flustered, it might have stood out more, but in the moment it happened it was ignored.

At least I didn't have any trouble finding the town hall. It was the tallest building in Ponyville, except for a few that were seemingly build into the clouds. Or maybe they were built out of clouds. Didn't seem like the most stable building material, but if it worked then it worked.

Since seeing that light and movement on the top of the hall the other day, I'd consciously made efforts to avoid being in eyesight of the building. Barring that, I made sure that when I was walking I kept my own eyesight on the building. If there was another movement or flash of light, I'd see it. Not that I expected to see the exact same tell again.

What was there really to tell about the building? It looked like an oversized carnival carousel, except it was an actual multi-storied building with function and use. The style was the same as the rest of town, a sort of cream plaster with wooden beams and posts. It was a good deal more ornate than the rest though, with flourishes and detailing not seen elsewhere; except for maybe one or two of the nicer buildings in the Old Town. The most interesting part though, was that the entire building was encircled by tiers of deck space and

As I stepped up onto the deck, the old floorboards creaked. Not in the way that weak and rotten wood did, but in the way that wood that had shrunk and weathered with age did. It was the kind of creak you heard when one end of the board was still nailed tight and the other had loosened over time. That creaking was the hallmark of an old building.

Inside was no different than outside. Typical of what I expected from Ponyville by now, with extra care and ornamentation where it mattered. The main door opened up into a massive galleria with tiered balconies that seemed to continue from the ones outside, with large doors and windows, which provided more than ample natural lighting. I reckoned that it would be rented out for public events and private functions.

It was a very open space to be sure. With a quick survey of the room, I spotted two stairways that lead up the balconies, then to the closed-off upper floors. Up there, I suspected, were a series of smaller rooms used for meetings or storage. As well as the Mayor's office. The sets of stairs were diametrically opposed, both at opposite ends of the room. I picked one at random, and trotted over. At the landing there were bulletin boards full of events and advertisements, as well as directional arrows indicating what was upstairs and what was downstairs. Up went to offices, storage, and something called "PPR". Down went to the museum, more storage, and the library.

In the basement, Pennyfarthing was waiting for me.

"Oh, there you are. I was about to wonder if you'd flaked on me." she said.

"Should I have gotten here earlier?" I asked, uncertain.

"No, I only got here a few minutes ago," she smiled. "Let's go in, it's always quiet at this time of day."

It wasn't quite on the scale of Starlight's library, but the selection was impressive. There were neat rows of book cases that went on in a grid pattern. Each bank of cases had about 8 cases in them, repeated as much as was practical from one end of the room to the other. There were also allowances for small seating areas with desks for books, and windows along the far wall to let in as much light as possible. To supplement the weak lighting, enchanted lanterns let of a soft glow from the low vaulted ceiling. Off to my right, the resident librarian lounged with her hooves on her desk, reading one of those Daring Do novels. She briefly looked up at us as we walked in, peering over a set of antiquated spectacles before returning to her reading.

Pennyfarthing lead me over to the "Finances" section and browsed for a sizable textbook that read The Coinage of Equestria: A Beginner's Guide on its spine. The bloody thing was as thick as two bricks, and thrice wider than that. If that was a "Beginner's Guide", then I was a donkey.

"This is as good a place to start as any," Pennyfarthing grunted as she hefted the textbook onto the nearest desk.

A cloud of dust was kicked up from the pages of the textbook when she flipped open the cover. A lot of it got in my face, making me cough up a storm. "Cough cough! When's the last time someone opened this?" I asked.

"That's not dust, it's soot." she replied without looking up.

"Soot?"

"The old library burned down a while ago. It was a nice library, too. Hollowed out the inside of this massive oak tree with magic, then built the library in it while it was still living. The Golden Oak Library, it was called." Pennyfarthing explained.

"It just burnt down one day? Was it struck by lightning or something?" I questioned.

She continued, "You'd think, but out west in the entrance to Tartarus, where a whole bunch of old baddies get locked away for eternity. Cerberus, the gatekeeper, was away for some weird reason and one of them got out. See, this centaur called Tirek could steal away power from ponies, and he wanted to rule the world. He came to town, drained a bunch of ponies, then zapped the library. Lost a lot of good books in that. The librarian was understandably angry, so they started fighting."

"What happened?"

Pennyfarthing looked me dead in the eyes, imparting her words with gravitas. "The librarian won."

I blinked, frowned, then looked in the direction of the lounging librarian. I was suddenly filled with a more than reasonable fear of damaging the books.

"Ah, here we go. Do you want the short version or the long version?" Pennyfarthing said as she found the page she was looking for.

"The difference being..?" I asked.

"Short is just the numbers and stuff. Long has context for developments of different types of coinage. I can give you either at the drop of a hat, but having the book right here means I can verify my facts."

I mulled over this for a moment. "Is there a middle ground? Keep the interesting tidbits and drop the fluff?"

"Sure is." Pennyfarthing nodded, before launching into her spiel.

"Before the Alicorn Sisters there was little standardisation of coin, most transactions being undergone by whatever nearby urban centre had the most reliable coinage. This usually meant being founded on some sort of fungible good or resource, usually precious metals or gemstones. This worked for the most part, but areas that relied on gemstones would typically be at odds with regions that had high dragon populations, as dragons used gemstones as food. Each region either minted coins that held their value in the goods it was produced from, or issued bills that represented a designated value of a given good. All in all, standard economics.

"However, when the Alicorn Sisters unified Equestria into a single nation rather than a loose collection of associated states, they required a standard coin. Some regions used different names for the same coin, or the same name for different coins. The only common thread was that any number of small denominations were varying called "Bits", which originally referred to larger coins that had been cut up to make change. The largest of these so-called "Bits" was chosen as the de-facto currency of Equestria, and a lot of the other sizes were reclassified in relation to the new Equestrian Bit.

"As time went on and prosperity went up, a lot of those smaller currencies fell out of favour. In modern times, only four were still used commonly. Each one was simply called by how much of a Bit it was worth. The 1/2 Bit, the 1/4 Bit, the 1/8 Bit, and the 1/16 Bit. The larger coins were a little more complex, as there had been quite the variety of them. The Twopence Bit was worth two Bits, a Florin was worth 5, the Guinea was worth 12 Bits, and the Sovereign was worth 20, with a whole host of less common ones that straddled the gaps. The most valuable coin still in standard circulation was called the "Guinea-Sovereign", worth a whopping 240 Bits. Not many would just throw a coin like that on the counter of a bakery and hope to buy a single muffin." Pennyfarthing finished pointedly, indicating the different coins on a chart that showed their values and shapes in relation to the Bit.

That last remark stung a little. "How many muffins could that buy?"

"All the muffins we could produce in a day, and the bakery can make a whole lot of muffins." she rolled her eyes dramatically. "There's been a bunch of talk about standardising the Bit further, converting the values of existing coins to a Base 10 scale, ditching all the fractions and odd mathematics you need to do to figure out what's equal to what. Mostly because the new Princess is a sucker for details. If you ask me, it's the same stuff they've been going on about for my entire life."

I had to say, it was what I asked for. Would I remember all of it? No. Was it more entertaining in the moment? Definitely.

"Why do you know so much about coins?" I asked.

"Because it's sorta my thing." she answered, pointing to her cutie mark. It was a loose collection of coinage, each one a different size and value.

"Fair enough." I replied.

Contrary to what some would have you believe, it is entirely possible to spend time together with the opposite gender without suddenly having to do something intimate. That's what we did for a while longer, as I practiced and reviewed the common coins the two of us chatted about little things. She told me about working at the bakery, I told her about my whole curse thing, and she wasn't overly surprised, saying "The only way somepony could be in Equestria and not know what a Twopence Bit is, was if they had some sort of memory problem."

"Well maybe I did know it, and the curse got rid of it?" I challenged.

"So what? If it's gone now, it's no use to you, and you're stuck having to learn from me." Pennyfarthing chuckled.

"You won't be laughing if my memory comes back."

"Yeah, well? If it's not back in the next, I don't know, 15 minutes, I can still laugh as much as I want."

"Got me there," I shrugged. "Hey, are you busy tomorrow?"

She shook her head. "It just so happens that I've got weekends off. Why?"

"You like music?" I asked.

"If you're asking if I'm going to the Senior's Hall tomorrow, I am. Every musician in town performs there on the weekends, from the DJ, to that Apple family fiddler, to the legendary Octavia. Sometimes the big popstars like Colouratura or Songbird Serenade even stop by. The whole thing is broadcast live on the local radio station for anypony who'll listen," Pennyfarthing said excitedly. "Wait, how'd you hear about it then, if you lost your memory?"

"Met a cool cat, real good with the piano. Name of Rags." I said.

"You met Rags? The Ragtime Jones? Best musician of our generation?" Pennyfarthing asked.

"Yeah, I just followed the music and it lead me right to him. Nice guy, can really play a mean rag."

"Not just rags, he can play just about anything from memory, even if he's never heard it before. All he needs is a tune and he can take it away. A real visionary he is." she gushed.

A moment of silence passed, then I said "Thanks for the money lesson and all, Pennyfarthing."

"Oh, just call me Penny. See you at the Senior's Hall tomorrow?"

"Definitely." I nodded with a smile. Something told me she'd be a good friend. She returned the book to its place on the shelves, then left the library.

I'd have been a fool not to take advantage of this opportunity. I had a reason to be in the town hall, and if my suspicions were correct, I'd have open access to the upper levels. I carefully made my way upstairs, back through the galleria. The sun was beginning to set, casting long rays and shadows through the building.

There were two floors above the galleria. The first was of no interest to me, full of offices and similar boring things that involved paperwork. The second floor was the last floor, and it was a lot more cramped than the one below. There were only three rooms, plus a closet that barely deserved a mention. One was marked simply "Storage", but the other had a line of cables running under the door.

I approached carefully, trying to listen for anything suspicious. I heard the low whine of what I suspected were electronics, as well as hooves pacing back and forth. I tried the door and found it unlocked. Carefully, I opened it and peered inside.

There were two ponies, both stallions. One had a set of headphones on, using a series of dials to equalize something. The other was inside a room with a large glass window, a microphone, and a lot of soundproofing. He was talking into the microphone. The room was filled with banks of devices, all hooked up to eachother with dials and displays and cables.

It looked like a radio station, judging by the banks of optical storage. Cassette tapes, disks, records, in racks and stacks, with all sorts of devices for playing them hooked up to a main display. Looked like a homebrew setup, a couple of hobbyists doing their thing. Frankly, I was inclined to ignore them, so I did.

The closet I'd initially dismissed proved more interesting than I'd thought it would be. Firstly, it was a walk-in. Secondly, it had a panel in the wall that had been left ajar. Intrigued, I pulled it aside and revealed a crawlspace. I couldn't see where it lead, because it turned left by 90 degrees about three metres down its length. I glanced out of the closet. Should I risk it?

My curiosity got the better of me. I went in. I needed to know, I needed to find something, anything to explain what I saw the other day. It hadn't been at the forefront of my mind, but it had been nagging every so often.

The crawlspace was cramped but navigable, opening up to a small room that had probably been accidentally sealed off during a round of renovations. It was mostly bare, except for a desk crammed into the corner and a ladder leading to a hatch. That hatch went up to the roof. I know because I checked it. The hatch explained how someone had gotten onto the roof. But the room was so bare that I didn't have any clues as to what had actually been up there.

Maybe I was overreacting. That thing I'd seen could have been a weather vane, or a piece of debris from... something. One of Gyro's flying machines, perhaps.

I was almost going to believe myself, so I turned to leave. Which is when I saw something that made my blood run cold.

Across the opening I'd entered the room from, there was a hair-thin line anchored at either end of the opening. Or at least, had been anchored. In my entry, I'd broken the line, which was now in two pieces on the floor. It was a tripwire. Retracting blade, falling weights, explosives, the possibilities crowded inside my head. My instincts screamed at me to run very far and very fast, but if there had been malicious intent in that tripwire, I'd be dead by now.

That tripwire was the confirmation I needed. I rifled through the desk, and found something that vaguely resembled a spyglass. It was very basic, had a telescoping function, and was painted a drab brown - the same brown as the town hall's roofing material. There were also threads along the smallest end of it, to screw into something. I was about to dismiss it when I noticed a key detail. The lens was reflective, casting a small amount of light wherever it was pointed.

Was this spyglass what had caught my attention? Probably. It had been too far away to be sure, but it was the only answer I had right now. To be safe, I put it in my bag to examine later.

I left the room and crawlspace, doing my best to return it to how it had been when I'd come, and returned to the castle to sleep.

7 - Performing

Today was the day. Saturday.

It was raining. Hard. I think I heard some thunder earlier too. Not a day for wandering the streets, although I'd still be popping by the Senior's Centre for some musical enrichment later.

I found Starlight passed out at the kitchen table on top of her paperwork, two plates with uneaten cucumber sandwiches and a half-empty cup of coffee beside her. It would have been cute, if it didn't indicate a larger problem.

That thing I'd noticed yesterday, how Starlight was trying to prove herself? This was what it was going to look like for a while. This "Twilight" character seemed like a bad role model. Hyper-competent, hyper-productive, setter of unreasonable standards and establisher of inflexible rulebooks. And now, apparently the sole ruler of Equestria. It is entirely acceptable to be as productive and competent as this Twilight was reputed to be, but when someone who isn't nearly as much of a workaholic strives for the same levels, it has an adverse affect. The system Starlight was working with had been designed by her, yes, but it wasn't as flexible as it needed to be.

Now, armchair psychologist I might be, but Starlight had acknowledged it herself. She was under a lot of stress. And she didn't have nearly as much time dedicated to relieving that stress as she should have. Staying up all night doing paperwork wasn't good for you, drinking ungodly amounts of coffee wasn't good for you, working yourself to the bone trying to keep up with unreasonable expectations wasn't good for you.

There were a million things I could have said to Starlight right then, but I had a feeling that it wouldn't have helped much. I merely sighed and carefully peeled her face off of the page she'd fallen asleep on. She'd been drooling in her sleep, which had subsequently dried and stuck the page to her. I made sure not to wake her up. Some sleep was better than no sleep, even if you'd think it's easier to just power through it for an all-nighter.

Come to think of it, it was a little chilly in the kitchen. If I knew how to turn up the heat, I would have. Instead, I found a linen closet and threw a nice woolly blanket over Starlight right where she sat. She stirred slightly, but didn't wake up.

Satisfied, I put on a colourful umbrella hat I found in the coatroom closet, and set out into the rainy morning to see what Gyro had in store for me.

It was miserable out there.

The rain had driven most ponies inside, and the streets were dark and dreary. Thankfully, most of the streets had been done in paving stones, but the ones that hadn't were now veritable mires of mud and water. I avoided those when I could. The umbrella hat did almost nothing, and I was quickly soaked from haunch to withers. My dry head was little consolation.

As I walked, I considered my options. The umbrella hat had seemed like it'd be more effective, but lo and behold, I was wrong. I hadn't been able to find an actual umbrella, at least one how I imagined it to look. Starlight must have made do with some sort of "rain-begone" spell. Perhaps in the future I'd need to look into some kind of rain coat or cloak. Not one of those bright yellow ones, but maybe something green with lots of pockets. Or blue. I liked blue. I could roll with about anything that was simple and practical, yet bold.

I was sorely regretting my rainy day foray by the time I got to Gyro's place. I was about to knock when I noticed a waterlogged note pinned to the door. "For business inquiries, check the back shed" the note said.

Did Gyro actually have a shed? When I was here the other day, I hadn't noticed one. I hadn't noticed something else, either. All of the materials and scraps and bits and bobs that were scattered around her lawn and smithy? All gone. I was more intrigued than concerned, but I made my way around back regardless.

Wouldn't you know, there actually was a shed. It was constructed from rough lumber, with the saw marks still visible. It was unvarnished or painted, and had probably been put up just last night. The roof was done with a similar lumber, but it'd been sealed with pitch to make it waterproof. A stovepipe was sticking out of it at an odd angle, billowing out grey smoke. It smelled very strongly of burnt wood. I could hear the pounding of metal against metal.

I knocked on the door. The pounding stopped, and within moments the door swung open. "Ink Blot! Hi!" exclaimed Gyro.

"Hey Gyro, mind if I come in?" I asked.

"Yes, yes, make yourself at home! Don't stand too close to the anvil or you'll get stung by the sparks, and if you don't like heat, stand away from the forge." Gyro welcomed me inside.

It was rather cozy in here, if a little dark. The wall opposite the door housed a forge, made of stone packed with mortar. The fire inside it sparked and roared as air from a dual-chambered bellows rushed through it. There was a large iron anvil placed dead centre of the shed, stapled with thick metal bands to a large wooden post sunken into the ground. Several pieces of metal were being heated in the forge, and off to the side a long trough was filled with oil for quenching. Along the walls were shelving filled with materials. A lot of that stuff I'd seen the other day, like the bathroom scale, but there had been a host of others added since. There was also a workbench with vises and tool storage space.

Gyro immediately went to work pounding away on a length of metal. As I watched, the glowing yellow metal was being beaten into shape with a series of rhythmic clangs.

"Was this shed here the other day?" I asked.

"When you were here? No. Yesterday? Yes, because I heard on the radio that it was going to rain. I was planning on doing it anyway, and the rain was a good excuse." she shrugged.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

"Did you make this forge too?"

"Yes!" Gyro said happily. She seemed quite pleased with herself.

"...Don't you already have a forge? Attached to the house?" I asked.

"Yes," she sheepishly said. Despite this her hammer didn't miss a beat. "Dang it! I got so caught up in making the shed that I forgot about that. I tend to do that, you know? Get so caught up in one project that I forget about other projects? The Flying Machine is my dream, but I need to do other things too."

"Speaking of, you had some secret thing you were making?"

Gyro's eyes widened when I said that. "One second." she said, moving with a sense of urgency. The piece of metal she was shaping was thrust back into the burning coals of the forge, and her hammer was hung from a loop on her apron. She waved me over to the workbench, where she pointed at something covered by a stained rag. Gyro grasped the rag, then looked at me to wordlessly ask me if I was ready. I nodded.

She whipped the rag off the enigmatic project with a flourish, revealing a strange device. It looked like some kind of... boot, or sandal maybe? There were bands of metal here and there, as well as the skeleton of something I couldn't really make sense of. There were hinges and joints, leather straps and buckles, and odd bits poking out here and there. It confused me. Couldn't make heads or tails of it.

"What do you think?" Gyro asked me excitedly.

I blinked. "What... is it, exactly?"

"Right, I should have you try it on. Give me your left hoof, please!" she instructed. I complied, and within moments the strange device was being fitted to my leg. Only when it was completely on did it begin to make sense.

It was a mechanical claw. The crazy buzzard had actually made me a claw.

"Oh! Before I get distracted, you turn this lever to open and close it. I built it after you left and spent yesterday tweaking it and testing it out while building the shed. Do you like it?"

I sat down on the gravel floor of the shed. Balancing on my haunches, I brought up my other hoof to turn the lever. Open, then closed, open, then closed. I watched the mechanism as it worked, entranced. Looking at the claws as they clenched and released, I felt something in the back of my mind; an itch from beyond the wall of fog left in my mind.

The memory it was trying to reach was buried deep. Regardless, it stirred up my feelings, stirred up my emotions. I didn't know how to feel. Happiness, sadness, mournfulness, anger, regret. It all blended together. But above all that, I felt a deep sense of loss, as well as discomfort. Treading around on these four hooves didn't feel right anymore. My body didn't feel right anymore.

"Ink Blot?" Gyro asked with a twinge of concern.

What would I tell her? Probably not the truth. Especially if I didn't have the whole truth. For now, an honest answer would suffice.

"I'm not entirely sure, Gyro. It's making me ask myself a bunch of questions that I don't have the answers to anymore. I appreciate it a lot, and it'll probably have a lot of utility, but my feelings are a little... mixed." I sighed.

"Oh."

There was a short pause before I replied. "Thank you, regardless. This is still a very interesting device."

I went to take it off, but she stopped me. "Keep it," Gyro smiled halfheartedly. "Maybe it'll help you with your memory?"

"Maybe." I said. I was about to leave, but then I thought of something.

"Want to go to the Senior's Hall?"

The Senior's Hall was a recent construction on the edge of town. Despite this, its architecture seemed to hearken back to decades past. It was made of brick, with large arched windows, standing two stories tall. Inside, there were various rooms and facilities available to the community. There was an exercise room, a small arcade, a sandwich parlour that was partnered with the Bread and Butter Bakery, a pool hall, but the room everyone was going to was an auditorium at the far end of the building. That auditorium had a stage and seating for over a hundred people. That's where the music was going to be.

I had to admit, they had a good setup. The way the auditorium was designed you needed minimal microphone boosting. There were microphones and speakers, yes, but those were more for the use of the two stallions I'd seen last night at the town hall. It seemed the two of them ran the most popular radio station in town, and on days like this they came and broadcast the show. The Senior's Hall, unlike what its name suggested, wasn't just for seniors. Anyone could come in and use the facilities if they so pleased. It's just that anyone below a certain age paid a fee at the front desk.

Thankfully, Gyro and I had gotten here early, and seating was still plentiful. Gyro didn't have any preference, so I picked a spot in the middle right with a good view of the stage, which was obscured by a big red curtain.

"Wow, there's so many ponies here!" Gyro said.

"From what I hear, this is a pretty big event." I replied.

"And such a nice auditorium, too. Griffonstone doesn't have any auditoriums like this. Well, not anymore."

"Anymore?"

"Yeah, everything's so run down," she sighed. "Everygriff is always looking for a leg up on every other griff, so public works don't get much attention. They're all obsessed with being the meanest, because the meanest gets respect."

"I guess they've never heard of altruism." I scoffed.

"Altruism?"

"Basically, caring for others because it's the right thing to do. Being very selfless and giving." I tried to explain.

"Oh, I do that! At least I like the idea of it. It just wasn't practical back in Griffonstone. Those griffs take and take, but they never give. If they think they can get something for free, they'll never pay a cent!"

"Did you ever have trouble with griffons trying to steal from you?" I asked.

Gyro laughed. "They'd try. Once. Never twice. Because I always caught them and made them pay up. Cash, Barter, or Bruises. A good weaponsmith knows how to use the weapons she makes!"

"Serves them right, eh?" I chuckled.

"They weren't even the worst, though! Some of the smarter ones would try to make up sob stories and hoodwink me into giving them free stuff." she continued.

Just then, I heard a familiar voice behind me. "Got a spot for one more?"

I turned around, and was greeted by none other than Pennyfarthing. "Got over a hundred spots, pick the one you like." I greeted her, trying to be funny.

"This one will do," she replied, sitting on the other side of Gyro. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Pennyfarthing, but everypony calls me Penny."

"I'm Gyro! I'm a smith, I like making stuff. I've been trying to invent a flying machine." Gyro introduced herself.

"Oh, so you're the source of all the impact craters around town." Penny chuckled.

"I'm getting better at keeping them in the air!" Gryo replied.

Penny rolled her eyes. "The crater in front of the bakery says otherwise."

"Hey wait a minute, I never crashed in front of any bakery."

"Hey Inks, glad you could make it." said another familiar voice. This time it was Rags, hopping down from the stage and moseying on over to us.

"Well, oddly enough my schedule doesn't have much in it these days, so I managed to squeeze this in." I greeted him.

"Good thing you did. We lucked out this week; a lot of Ponyville's top headliners are in town and were willing to take part in the show. Everypony's here, from the child prodigies to the professional artists who've got record labels. Managed to book the good DJ too. Got a nice hour, hour and a half-ish program, with an intermission for the folks who need it."

"I'm looking forward to it. Good music can make any day better." I replied.

"Good on ya, Inks. Good on ya."

Rags returned to the backstage area, waving at a few fans and friends before entering a doorThe rest of the auditorium filled up rather quickly, forcing the stagehands to bring out extra chairs.Those chairs went like hotcakes, and it then became standing room only. The place was packed with people, all waiting in anticipation of the show.

Without warning I heard something start up from behind the big red curtain. A drum beat, fast paced. Other people noticed it too, as the chatter in the hall quickly died down. The lights dimmed, and a few more instruments joined in. An electric guitar, an accordion, and a fiddle. The four instruments quickly came together in a crescendo as the curtains swung open. The stage was dark until a series of spotlights illuminated it one by one.

On the accordion was a pony I hadn't seen before. He was slim, with a yellow coat and mess of curly brown hair, wearing a poncho with a robber chicken riding on his back. His accordion was held high in his two front hooves.

The guitarist was using one of those steel guitars that lay flat on a table, wired to an array of hoof pedals. somehow, it'd been tuned and filtered to sound like an electric guitar. The guitarist had a set of headphones nested in her spiky blue mane, and vibrant magenta sunglasses. I recognized her, as I'd seen her around town once or twice as she did... something... while listening to music on her headphones.

The third pony was someone I was very surprised to see. It was Pinkie Pie on the drums, kicking a beat that I could only describe as "baller". She waved to the crowd and played a quick riff on the drums, which signaled the transition to the opening song.

"Your eyes were filled with stars,
So you picked up a guitar,
And how the people gave,
The attention that you crave!
Tonight, the stage is yours,
But the world has watched you rise,
And fall a thousand times before,
Polka never dies!"

In the very centre of the stage was none other than Rags, alternating between playing a fiddle and singing. He had a wonderful voice, and he knew how to use it. Smooth with a lot of range. On the last line of the verse, all four of them sang together. At least I think they did; I didn't actually see the guitarist's mouth move. The song broke for a bit for an accordion solo, but it quickly moved on to the second verse.

"So when your face is gone,
The dance will carry on,
And you'll rot down in your grave,
With the souls you couldn't save!
Tonight, the stage was yours,
How they loved your moans and sighs,
But oh, the reaper loved you more,
Polka never dies!"

Pinkie took the lead on that one. It was a little morbid if I thought about the lyrics, but the way she sang it made it seem a lot nicer than it was. I honestly hadn't expected her to sing, since it was pretty difficult to both sing and drum. Right after they came together on the last line, they broke again for Rags to do a solo on the fiddle.

"Come all you indie hipster darlings,
And new pop country starlings,
To the main street legion hall,
Look into my crystal ball!"

The third verse was sung by the accordionist. He had a bit of a twang to his singing, but he was solid with it. Right after he was finished, they launched into the final verse.

"Emo, screamo, POLKA NEVER DIES!
Last call, Dance hall, POLKA NEVER DIES!
You’ll be the first against the wall, and polka never dies,
You are the first against the wall, and polka never dies!"

As they finished singing, they continued to play the music, building up to a resounding finale. At some point, Pinkie had begun playing a tuba at the same time as the drums.

It was... spectacular.

"Hey, hey, folks," Rags said into the microphone. "Hope you liked that one as much as I did. Welcome to the Senior's Hall Saturday Spectacular! Hope you don't mind that we've done something a little different today, putting on a fancy show and all."

Some heckler over on the other side of the auditorium shouted, "Sounds great Rags!"

"Glad you think so, Goldie! Today I'm joined by a few local legends as well as a wanderer I'm sure you'll all recognize. On the strings is my good friend Vinyl Scratch, otherwise known as DJ Pon-3, Queen of the Dub and the Wub. Our boy on the squeeze box is traveling comedian and party pony Cheese Sandwich, along with his manager, Boneless the Chicken. The mare with the sticks is somepony you all love. It's the local party-thrower, cupcake baker, philanthropist, the Mare of Mirth, the Lady of Laughter, none other than Pinkie Pie." As they were introduced, they each played a little lick with their instruments.

"And there's myself, Ragtime Jones. I'm sure you know all about me. I'd go on and list all the stuff I've done, but then we'd be here all day. You're here for some music, so how about trying this little number on for size?" Rags lifted up his fiddle, and began to play the next song.

The entire performance was great. Really, it was. The variety they managed to pack in, not just by playing all four of them together, but doing solos and duets. It wasn't just the four of the either, they brought out a few guest artists to do a set or two. In that strange way that I knew the songs Rags had been playing at the speakeasy, I knew a lot of these ones. I hardly said anything during the performance, but Penny and Gyro made a few comments at particularly moving or impressive moments.

That was, of course, until the penultimate song.

Rags stepped out to the centre stage alone this time, the other musicians leaving the stage. In their place, a single piano was wheeled out and placed behind Rags. One of the ponies from earlier in the show, a pegasus named Piano Forte, sat down at the keyboard. "It looks like we've almost come to the end of this part of our program. There's a few more songs we've got in store for you, but for this next one I'd like to introduce a good friend of mine. This is going to be her first time performing in front of such a large crowd, so I'm going to have to ask you to be accommodating. Come on out, darlin'!"

To my amazement, none other than Ginger Hearts walked slowly out onto the stage. She was wearing a very simply cut dress, made of yellow fabric and adorned with roses. she also wasn't carrying an instrument, so that meant only one thing.

Ginger was going to sing.

"Hi, everyone," Ginger said into the microphone nervously. "I'm Ginger Hearts, and the song I'm going to sing is very special to me. I hope it touches your hearts like it's touched mine." She nodded at Rags, and Piano Forte, who began playing a little melody. A melody I recognised. A melody I knew the words to.

"Ae fond kiss, and then we sever,
Ae farewell alas forever,
Deep in heart wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee."

I listened very closely, and couldn't help myself from following along with the lyrics in my head.

"Who shall say that fortune grieves him,
While the star of hope, she leaves him,
Me mae cheerful twinkle lights me,
Dark despair around beknights me."

I couldn't explain it. I couldn't justify it. I could barely think. All I could feel were tears welling in my eyes.

"I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy,
Naething could resist my Nancy!
For to see her was to love her,
Love but her and love forever."

As the tears began to stream down my face, I started to remember. Remember why I knew this song. Remember why I knew every lyric by heart.

"Had we never loved sae kindly,
Had we never loved sae blindly,
Never met, nor never parted,
We had ne'er been broken hearted."

I knew it because my grandpa had used to sing it to me. When I was little, when I was staying with my grandparents because my mom and dad were busy with work. He'd sing it to me every night before bed, he'd sing it when I felt scared, and alone, and afraid.

He'd sung it on the day his daughter - my mother - died.

He never sang it again after that.

"Fare thee well thou first and fairest,
Fare thee well thou best and dearest,
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, enjoyment, love and pleasure."

It was too much.

Barely holding back sobs, I made my way out of the Senior's Hall, out into the pouring rain. But even though I couldn't hear Ginger singing anymore, the last verse floated through my head.

"Ae fond kiss, and then we sever,
Ae farewell alas forever,
Deep in heart wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee."

Author's Note

Polka Never Dies:

Ae Fond Kiss:

8 - Hiding

I didn't really know what to do. The rain wouldn't letup, I'd lost the umbrella hat, and I couldn't tell if what was streaming down my face was more tears than rainwater.

All my instincts told me to crawl away somewhere and hide, to let it all out somewhere that people couldn't see. I wanted to. But the rational part of my brain said that I'd be better off with a shoulder to cry on. Someone who was supportive, someone who understood.

I didn't really know anyone who fit that description, so I went back to the castle to try and find Starlight.

At least she'd be able to try and make sense of it.

"Starlight?" I called out as I entered the castle. No answer, my voice echoing hollowly in the halls. The magical lights were still on, though if they were off I wouldn't have any idea on how to turn them off.

I looked in the kitchen. She wasn't there, nor was her stack of papers. I looked in some of her rooms, the ones that were open at least. Not in the bathroom, not in the private study, not in her bedroom, not in any number of the spare rooms of stuff. I knocked on each one, then waited a few seconds for an answer. If I didn't hear anything, and I didn't hear anything at any of the doors, I tried the door and went in. I even though to check the library, and even though it was almost spotless compared to how it'd been when I'd last seen it, Starlight was nowhere to be found.

I called out again as I roamed through the castle. "Starlight? Are you there?"

I wandered, and wandered, until an idea struck me. What about that odd room I'd found in my wing of the castle? With the blankets, and the pillow fort? With nothing else, I made my way along to that room, knocked, and waited. Then I knocked again, just in case. Hearing no answer, I opened the door and went in.

Someone was in here, alright. A faint flickering light from inside the pillow fort cast long shadows across the room, and I could hear the staticky hiss of an old style radio. I could only just hear the a soft ballad being played on the station.

"Starlight?" I said softly.

Starlight poked her head up from the pillow fort. "Hi Ink Blot. I thought you were going to the Senior's Hall?"

"I did. I remembered something. It was... difficult."

"Oh," said Starlight. "Do you need to talk?"

"Yes."

She smiled, though it turned into more of a grimace, and waved me over. I crawled into the pillow fort, doing my best not to knock over anything load-bearing. The flickering light was from this battered old lantern, made of tin with glass windows for the light to escape from, as well as a patterning of punched holes. The holes were both decorative and functional, allowing more light to escape while being aesthetically pleasing. Inside of the lantern was a fat candle that burned brightly. Beside it, an antique radio receiver crackled as it played a soft guitar ballad.

"This is cozy." I commented.

"Trixie and I made this a few months ago, when we had a sleepover. We haven't really done anything non-work related together since then." Starlight smiled sadly.

"She's the guidance counselor, right? At the school?" I verified.

"Yeah. She was the first friend I made without Twilight's help. Actually, Twilight didn't want me to be friends with her at all. Wouldn't you know, buying a cursed amulet and conducting a hostile takeover of Ponyville as revenge for being humiliated after her magic show was revealed as mostly optical illusions and stage trickery? Doesn't really put you in Twilight's good graces." Starlight reminisced.

I scoffed. "Yet she forgave you for going back in time and messing with the future."

"I was afraid. Angry. Wronged. I wanted revenge," Starlight sighed. "For so long I'd bottled everything up I was trying to release it the only way I knew how. And that was by making other people miserable, like how I'd been. My best friend - my only friend - Sunburst, got accepted into Celestia's School of Magic, and I got left all alone. My parents weren't home very much, because their jobs were very demanding. We weren't really close. Sometimes it felt like they couldn't even remember my birthday. My birthday! The most important day in my life, and they... forgot about it. Sunburst never forgot. Until Sunburst was gone."

"And then you took over that town, and then you tried to erase Twilight's friendships."

"Yeah. I regret doing that to them. The town. Twilight. Fluttershy. Rainbow Dash. Rarity. Pinkie Pie. Applejack. I don't know if I can ever forgive myself. I know they have, but I don't know how long I'll carry this with me."

I smiled knowingly. "I know the feeling. I don't know why."

"Look at me offloading all this emotional baggage on you. This was supposed to be your therapy session." Starlight chastised herself.

"It's alright. I have good ears, you won't wear them out." I chuckled, but the levity soon ran out.

"You said you remembered something. What was it?" Starlight asked, getting to business.

"It was about my grandpa. A song he used to sing. They sang it at the Senior's Hall, the second last set before intermission. He would sing it for me before bed, he'd sung it for my mother too. The last time he ever sang it was at her funeral."

As the weight of what I said sunk in, I could feel tears welling up again. I clenched my eyes tight to try and stop them, but that only made it worse. I could almost see him, I could hear his voice softly singing the words. Ae fond kiss and then we sever...

"After mom died, I felt so empty inside," I found myself saying. "All I wanted to do was run away, as far as I could, go somewhere I didn't have to think about it. He didn't want me to go, but I did anyway."

"Run away? Where did you run?" Starlight asked.

"I don't know... exactly. It was the same thing his uncle, my great-great uncle, had done. The same thing that had killed him, left his family with only a stupid piece of metal to remember him by. I remember that it was something I used to respect, but after doing it myself I grew to hate it." I shook my head, which was starting to get all fuzzy inside. Like my mouth was full of cotton, but my whole head. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, not thinking, not moving, only breathing, only feeling. It relaxed me, somehow, and I felt a deep sense of relief.

"Are you alright?"

I opened my eyes and looked at Starlight. "I think so. It's like my head's gotten lighter, somehow. Can you... check my memory? The part under the curse?"

"Oh, sure." Starlight nodded. Her horn began to glow, which she pointed at my forehead. I felt a slight cooling sensation at the back of my mind. Breathing deeply, I tried to recapture that sense of ease I'd felt just earlier.

"Don't go too deep, just look at the surface." I cautioned her. I didn't want her to get zapped again.

Eventually, the glowing ceased.

"It's hard to say. You're making new memories just fine, but a big chunk of what I like to call the "memory pool" is too murky to look at. It's a little on the nose, but it's like it's been covered in-"

"Ink. Thick black ink. Like a classified document." I interjected.

"Exactly," Starlight said. "But I still can make out some vague shapes and concepts. You were close to your grandparents?"

"Yeah. Until my mom died. I don't know how long it's been since I saw them. Could be years. Feels like years."

"Maybe you should try to find them, when you remember them enough." Starlight suggested.

"Maybe," I sighed. "Maybe."

Outside, the rain was no closer to letting up than it had been earlier. A stray thunderbolt made me jump, but being inside the pillow fort made me feel like a kid again. That childlike sense of safety from all the blankets and pillows was something special that I wanted to hold onto. Even though it was wet and cold and miserable outside, it felt like everything was gonna be alright.

After a while, I felt that the music was too quiet, so I reached out with my hoof to the radio.

"Do you want the music louder?" Starlight asked.

"Check this out." I replied, bringing my other hoof to the mechanism and extending the claws. With care, I closed the claws on the volume dial, and turned it up.

"That's... kind of cool, actually. But couldn't you just use magic?"

I shook my head in disappointment. "I don't know how to do magic. From what little I've seen almost all unicorns can do it latently. Of course I've only been up and at 'em for, I don't know, less than a week? So I'm not entirely sure what's normal."

"Almost all unicorns have at least some magic, but like any skill it needs time and effort to develop. Newborn foals up to three years may exhibit magical talent and even be shockingly proficient, but will often have little self-control." Starlight began.

"I see. So they're like little magic bombs that could go off at any moment?" I questioned.

Starlight grimaced. "Sorta? I'm not very good with young children, so I avoid the ones who aren't old enough to go to school. Mostly because as they age they aren't as impulsive with their magic, so I don't have to worry about random magic outbursts. A lot of it has to do with emotions, so somepony who's excited or angry might involuntarily do something like produce sparks. Past that it becomes a lot of practice and self study, though promising young unicorns like my friend Sunburst get headhunted by the School for Gifted Unicorns. Others who aren't so lucky need to pass an entrance exam, like Twilight did. It's like any life skill."

"That makes sense," I commented. "I suppose it becomes second nature after a while, and you don't really have to think about it."

"Exactly. There are so many things I just don't know how to do without magic. I've only been entirely without magic twice in my life, and I only barely got out of those by the skin of my teeth with a little quick thinking and a lot of luck." she smiled wryly.

"Well, if that's the case, I've just got to wonder one thing." I replied.

"What's that?"

"How come I don't know how to do magic? Like, I don't even know where to start with it. At all."

Starlight was silent for a moment. As the silence grew, so did the furrow in her brow. "Like, at all?" she asked.

"At all." I confirmed.

"Hmm," said Starlight. "I don't know. I've got some books on magic theory in the library if you want to take a look at them. And there's a few pointers I could give you once you've gotten started."

I nodded my agreement, and a few moments later we relocated to the library.

As I sat down along the walls, Starlight's magic was hard at work transforming the area of study into one of teaching. The tables were all shuffled together and covered with a very large blanket, creating a makeshift platform in the centre of the room. A series of chairs were brought out and arrayed in some strange pattern. Candles came out too, a vast assortment was placed in holders and candelabras and the grand crystal chandelier that cast most of the light around the library. Tall spindly ones, stout fat ones, scented ones, even little tea lights. Then, a strange collection of toys and objects were placed around the room.

Starlight trotted over to me, bringing a spare table as well as a host of reading material. She stacked the books neatly on the table, and pulled up a chair of her own.

I took a peak at the book at the top of the stack. It had a rather childish drawing of a unicorn horn and a bunch of... stuff coming off of it. The rendition was sort of dubious at best. "Baby's First Spell? You think I'm a baby?" I asked.

"Uh, no? Let's change the subject." Starlight cringed. The offending book sailed off into a box on the far side of the room like it'd been given a good punt.

"Okay."

She cleared her throat and with a flick of her horn a collection of books flew up and opened up before her. "Let's see... I'm going by touch here, so you'll have to bear with me. I'm not the best at teaching, mostly guiding and managing. Thank the stars I'm in charge of a school for friendship and not teaching math or something. Ah, here we go!" Starlight had found the book she was looking for and floated it over in front of me.

"Basic Magic Theory: Volume One; Focus." I read out. The image on the cover vaguely resembled a green frog.

"Yes, yes. Focus. The first few chapters are a little dry but you can read those on your own time. What we care about are the exercises in Section Six," she said, nodding to herself as she brought over a few stones, each one painted in distinct geometric patterns but overall fairly uniform in shape. "These stones are designed to be sensitive to even the weakest magical pulses. Each one reacts slightly differently, but that has more relevance to Volume Ten than Volume One."

"What's Volume Ten?" I asked.

"Accuracy."

"What are the other volumes?"

"Not important right now! Because there's seventeen of them. Followed by fifteen volumes of Advanced Magic Theory, and two volumes of Master Magic Theory. All of them are larger and thicker than this one." Starlight explained.

"Why are there only two volumes on Master Magic Theory?" I asked.

"Because the publisher went out of business," Starlight said before smacking the table with her hoof. "Focus!"

"Sorry." I replied.

Starlight rubbed her eyes. "By the Sun and moon this is going to take forever... Anyway, the goal for this exercise is for you to successfully knock over this tower of stones exclusively by magical means. It doesn't matter how it is knocked over as long as your magic is directly responsible for the chain of events which caused it to be knocked over."

"The book really covers that?" I asked.

"If you interrupt with one more question that is about the book and not the lesson I'm trying to give you, you will not receive the rest of the lesson!" she snapped.

"Sorry." I replied again.

Starlight shook her head disapprovingly, but continued regardless. The stones were stacked a few metres in front of me on the floor. She drew a chalk outline with a one metre radius around the stones and then pointed the chalk at me.

"You may stand anywhere in the room, so long as no part of you enters the circle. This is to ensure you do not knock the stack over without magic, whether it's accidentally or intentionally. No exceptions."

"Understood." I nodded.

"Now, there is a prescribed technique, but the book does explicitly note that the technique given may not work perfectly for all students, and some self experimentation may be required on the part of the student. Begin by placing all of your hooves equidistant from one another so that you have a solid, well balanced stance."

I complied, feeling slight strain on my muscles as I adopted the stance.

"Begin to regulate your breathing. Do this by breathing in for four counts and breathing out for four counts, counting at half the speed of a steady walk. This will steady your heartbeat and calm your nerves."

In, two three four. Out, two three four. Repeat ad nauseum.

"Clear your mind, letting all worldly concerns slide away. Forget everything that is not relevant to this very moment. Think of nothing but your stance, your breathing, and your focus."

Breathe. Focus.

"Reach out with your mind, feeling the world around you. Bring your focus onto the stack of stones, and open yourself to the energy of the world."

..?

"Feeling the energy, coax it into your guidance. Using this energy, enact your will on the stones, push the stack over."

Something was off. I didn't know what she meant by the "energy of the world". Maybe I'd missed the ticket? Maybe there was something she'd forgotten to mention?

My confusion must have been obvious, because Starlight quickly urged me, "Focus, Ink Blot! Focus is the key!"

So I tried to focus. I frowned, clenched my teeth, flexed my muscles, and absolutely bored into the stack of rocks with my eyes. Something was going to happen; something had to happen.

But nothing was happening. It wasn't working, no matter how hard I stared at it, no matter how I gritted my teeth, no matter how tightly I shut my eyes, no matter how hard I tried to clench my muscles, nothing happened. Nothing! Not even the slightest indication or feeling or hair sticking up on the back of my neck! Why. Wasn't. It. Working?

I wanted to scream bloody murder. I wanted to run over and kick the stack of rocks.

Stupid rocks. Stupid magic. Why the hell was it so hard? The way Starlight talked about it, magic was the easiest thing to do in the world.

...Dang it.

From what little I'd seen and heard of Starlight, she was a magical prodigy. She'd probably managed to teach herself to do advanced magic, and the way she used even the most basic magic was effortless. Why, she'd moved around an entire room's worth of furniture, and could pick out books from the shelves without even looking.

"Ink Blot, if you don't focus you-" she began.

"It's not going to work," I cut her off. "At least not like this. You're trying to teach me the way you know magic, while assuming I understand what seem to you like basic concepts. But I've never encountered them before, unless this curse has covered that up too. What even is the "energy of the world"? What does that mean?"

Starlight blinked. Then blinked again. She was at a loss for words. "Oh," she finally said. "I didn't mention that, did I?"

"No, you didn't." I shook my head.

"Okay, so basically the "energy of the world" is an abstract concept that represents the way everything is connected. From you, to me, to the smallest insect, to the largest mountain. Being aware of this connection is one thing, but being able to access it is another thing. For all magical creatures that inhabit the world, this is something known intrinsically since birth. For unicorns, this ability isn't ever lost, just... forgotten." Starlight rambled, reading from one of the other books. It was a thick volume bound with black fabric.

"Forgotten? How so?" I asked.

"The book doesn't expand on that, mostly because it's something hotly debated among scholars and researchers. Some say it's something to do with emotions, some say it's a direct result of higher reasoning, in all honesty it doesn't change much right now. Basically, you're born with the ability, you forget it as you age, but it can be relearned with a little effort. Most unicorns have it back once they've reached secondary education."

Born with it, forgetting it, but with the ability to relearn it. Could it be? No, unless...

"What if I do know how to do magic already, and this damned curse is blocking it?" I wondered aloud.

"I'll admit, I considered it. But that would just be too convenient, wouldn't it? And could whatever set that curse on you even have the power to limit your connection to the world?" she sighed.

"Perhaps. The more I think about it, the more it feels like the right answer. Whatever did this to me must have had its reasons, not that I have any experience or qualification to even support that answer. From what I hear that doesn't seem to stop people around here, eh?" I smirked.

Starlight frowned at me. "Oh, shut up."

"That said, if this mystical energies of the world is supposed to be connected to me, and the curse is blocking my connection, and I need that connection to do magic..." I trailed off.

"...Then you're not going to be doing much magic until that curse is lifted. And you won't be needing much in the way of lessons if you can't do magic." Starlight continued.

"Therefore, the only way to unlock my magic is to break the curse. Our only lead on breaking the curse is unlocking memories, the road to which is paved with friendship." I finished with a nod.

"How is your befriending going, anyway?"

"Oh, not bad at all. It seems like I meet at least one person per day who might be a good friend. Technique could probably use some work, though." I shrugged.

"What have you been trying?" Starlight asked.

"Oh, for a while I wander the streets until I notice something interesting. I found Rags by following the sound of music, and Ginger was with him. Gyro fell out of the sky in a ball of fire. Pinkie sort of found me rather than me finding her, looking down at me from the roof of a building. Got hungry yesterday and wandered into a bakery and thanks to my ineptitude with money found Pennyfarthing who was willing to teach me how Equestrian currency works. I was half hoping to meet someone else at the Senior's Hall today, but..."

"I see your problem." she said knowingly.

I cocked my head at her. "Really?" I asked.

"Oh yes. You'd actually benefit from one of the classes we're offering this coming semester, Meetin' Folks 101, being taught by a certain somepony you already know."

"I don't have the money for post secondary, and the last time someone offered to help pay me for it they lied through their teeth." I blurted out.

"What?" Starlight said.

"What?" I repeated.

"Post secondary? Lied through their teeth?" Starlight asked with confusion.

I frowned, and tried to think, but came up blank. "I have no idea where that came from," I said truthfully. "But before we get distracted, what exactly is my problem?"

"To put it simply, you're too passive. You're looking and looking, but for the most part you're just waiting for something to happen around you, and hoping it works out to a friendship. What you should do instead is take a more active approach. Look for anypony having a problem, and offer your help. Sometimes all somepony needs is a helping hoof." she explained.

"I wanted to do that, but I felt it was too awkward and creepy to barge into a random person's face." I admitted sheepishly.

"Well you're an idiot," Starlight chastised me. "A lot more ponies than you might think appreciate random strangers coming up and-- you're right that is kind of creepy."

"See?"

"The point still stands. Ponies will usually like somepony else who's willing to help out, even if that's something as small as holding open the door for them."

I nodded in understanding. "Fair enough."

Starlight was about to add something, but she was interrupted by a distinct chiming sound. Instead she said "Let me go get the door."

It wasn't long before Starlight returned, and she wasn't alone.

"Howdy, Ink Blot." said a familiar mare in a cowboy hat.

"Hey there, Applejack. What brings you 'round?" I greeted her warmly.

"Well, ah had somethin' ah was goin' ta give you, an' ah'd heard you'd be at the Senior's Hall. I couldn't find ya after the show was done." she shrugged.

"That's when she ran into me!" proclaimed Pinkie Pie, as she burst through the door to the library, followed by Rags, Ginger, Penny, and Gyro.

"Hello." I said to Pinkie and the others.

"You gave Ginger a bit of a fright when you left, Inks. She won't say it, but it's bugging her." Rags replied.

"Rags!" Ginger said indignantly.

He rolled his eyes. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"And you didn't really say anything to us before leaving, we had no idea what was going on," Penny added. "Why did you leave, anyway? We were worried."

I sighed and looked around at them, people who I tentatively might call friends. I'd known them for less than a week, and they were worried enough to check on me?

I suppose that made them my friends.

"Well, Ginger, your song was beautiful. Very beautiful. Only... I knew it by heart, even though I had never heard it before. At least, that's what I thought." I began.

"Really?" asked Ginger.

"I think I told you all about my memory thing? How I couldn't remember anything about myself?" I asked back. Even though I saw them nod, I turned to Starlight. "Do you have a chalkboard or something? I need a visual medium."

She nodded, rolling out a freestanding chalkboard and providing me with some chalk. Carefully setting a piece of chalk into the claw device, I began to illustrate my thoughts. I started by writing the word memory at the top, then a series of scribbles through it and around it. Below that I wrote the word curse, enclosing it in a box and casting a line out to either side. Yet further below I wrote down conscious thought.

"To reiterate, I woke up a few days ago with no memories in the woods south west of town. In the time since then, I've learned a few things," I indicated the curse box. "Some kind of powerful curse got placed on me and is currently blocking me from remembering anything about myself. If I'm going to remember, I gotta break or subvert the curse. Somehow."

"Is this why you tried to pay for a muffin with a Triple Guinea and a Griffonian nickle?" asked Penny.

"Yes. When I try to remember things, the curse blocks it like so," I said, drawing a line from conscious thought to the curse, which bounced off ineffectually. I began a second line which snaked this way and that, before slipping through a deliberate crack I'd left in the curse illustration. "However, sometimes I can sneak past the curse if I access a memory without thinking, catching a little bit of the memory to take back. I could slowly chip away at the curse and maybe reclaim my identity, but there's an even better way to do it. Ginger's performance solidified this for me."

I paused, looking around at everyone's faces. Ginger looked like she was following, intrigued at what I was saying. Rags was nodding along, though it could have been to the beat of a song that was playing inside his head. Gyro seemed to be lost in thought. Applejack, already having been introduced to the concept, understood completely. I think. Penny seemed skeptical. Pinkie was doing that thing where she smiled and hopped in place like she was the happiest mare in the world. All in all, better than expected.

"Ginger's performance was probably one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard. Do you know why? Because my grandpa used to sing it for me. When I was a kid, he would sing it to me before bed, and he'd sung it to my mother when she was young. The very last time I ever heard him sing it was at my mom's funeral. Until I heard Ginger sing Ae Fond Kiss, I couldn't even remember if either of them even existed." I finished talking, not because I didn't have anymore to say, but because my voice had gradually become a forlorn croak. To finalise and illustrate my point, I turned the piece of chalk on its side and drew an extra bold line directly through the curse into what represented my memory.

There was sort of a stunned silence. I hoped this meant that what I said was sinking in, and not that they weren't listening in the first place.

Applejack was the first to speak up. "Ah... didn't know, sugarcube. About your ma." she said solemnly, removing her hat and placing it over her chest.

"If it weren't for me going to the Senior's Hall today, I wouldn't have either." I replied.

"That's... kinda depressing. The first thing you remember, and it's a funeral?" Penny muttered.

"Yeah," I said. "I ran away from the because it was too much to handle in the moment. I've talked it over with Starlight, and had a little time to think, and I'll be able to handle it for now. But I have a bad feeling that a lot of my memories won't be as pleasant as I'd like them to be."

"Aww, don't you worry, Inky. We'll make sure you get your memories back!" Pinkie declared cheerfully.

"And maybe give you some happier ones too." added Ginger.

"And a knife." said Gyro.

Everyone looked at Gyro. "A knife?" I asked tentatively.

"I made you a knife." she answered. From a pocket of her overalls she took out the knife in question and held it out for me. It was a small little thing, mostly for utility.

"I appreciate the thought, but there's a small problem." I chuckled, holding up my front hooves.

"Give me three days and I can refine the design of the claw device to get around that." Gyro said without hesitation.

"This thing seems to work pretty great so far, it's just a little cumbersome. Even then I can get used to it." I replied.

Gyro waved away my comment. "Not satisfied with it yet, there's a lot of room to improve. Mechanism is too touchy, there needs to be a way for you to use it with only one hoof, needs knife function, higher quality materials, probably be ready for mass production by-"

"Don't worry about telling me all the specifics, I hardly know what half of it means. But to all of you, I really appreciate that you were worried enough about me to come check up. If the situation were different, I might've actually needed the help." I smiled at each of them in turn.

Now that there was finally a lull in the conversation, Pinkie spoke up. "Party?" she asked excitedly.

"I like the sound of that, how about Monday? I could really use something to look forward to."

With that, Pinkie smiled the largest smile I'd ever seen someone smile. It was nice.

9 - Walking

We chatted for a while in the library, though soon enough the others slowly excused themselves to go off and do other things. Applejack was the last to leave, though before she did there was something she had to give me.

The two of us were alone at the table in the library, still covered in magic textbooks. Starlight had just disappeared to another room for... something. She hadn't exactly been very clear on what it was, so I think it was just an excuse.

"Well Ink Blot, there's no other way for me to say it so I'll say it plain." said Applejack

I nodded for her to continue.

"When Granny heard about how much help you were, she insisted on compensatin' you. This here purse has your share of the payment from the shipment." she placed a small coinpurse onto the table. It was packed to the brim.

"You didn't have to, the deal was for food and shelter." I replied.

"Ah told her you'd say that, but she wouldn't budge. That's why I was hopin' to run into yous at the Senior's Hall. But there's one other thing ah should mention," Applejack said. "If you need someone to talk to about some of th' things you've remembered, don't hesitate to come talk to me."

"I will."

"Ah don't think ah've told you this, but mah parents passed away when ah was young. Pa game me his favourite hat, an' it's somethin' ah remember him by." she smiled.

I could sure have used something like that. Family heirlooms. "Well, at least we have something in common." I tried to deflect dryly.

"In a way, yeah. Ah'll see you around?" Applejack asked.

I nodded, and she made her way out of the library.

Funny. When I'd left my family the last thing I'd wanted was something to remember them by. Now all I wanted was to remember them, to remember who they were, to remember their faces. Right now I could only remember very specific moments, feelings, actions. All I had to go on for my grandparents were the taste of cobbler and the sound of music and their presence. For my own parents I had even less, more so the lack of presence.

This was getting depressing. I needed a distraction, some other kind of goal to strive for. Maybe find a job. Maybe I could find an apartment to rent, so I'd have a reason to work other than boredom. The Apple family was always an option, if they'd have me.

It felt like I had nothing at stake. I had a place to stay for the time being, almost indefinitely in fact. I doubt I would ever get anywhere close to starvation with the connections I'd very accidentally made. Money I could mooch and very carefully budget whatever Applejack had given me. I don't think I really cared about money insofar as it was used to get something to eat. I probably had a much more extensive safety net than I realized. But it didn't feel real, it felt sort of numbing.

To make sure this was real, I pricked myself with the pointy end of one of the claws. Ow. A small drop of blood welled up from the grievous wound. Yep. Real. I didn't want to do any more than that because it would quickly become something morbid and even more depressing. It simply was not a bridge I wanted to cross, ever. No matter how bad things got.

"Oh, did AJ leave?" asked Starlight as she poked her head inside.

"Yeah, just a few minutes ago." I said.

"That's too bad, I was going to put on tea. Have any plans for the rest of the day?"

I thought for a moment. "I don't know. Is it still raining? I might go for a walk if it isn't."

"The rain stopped about half an hour ago," Starlight yawned. "Anyway, I'd better get back to my paperwork. It needs to be done before the new school year."

"No, you're coming for a walk." I shook my head.

She frowned. "I said I'm going to do my paperwork."

"When does the new school year start?" I asked pointedly.

"The break ends next weekend, but I'd prefer-"

"You've been working on those papers ever since I got here. If you're not working on those papers, you're either at the school doing your job or you're here, passed out at the kitchen table after working on the papers until ungodly hours of the night. The few times you haven't been doing those are when you're trying to help me out. Take a break, and take a walk with me." I snapped.

"These papers are important!" Starlight snapped back.

"So is your mental health. Your weekends are supposed to be for you and your own, not for the stuff you should have had the time to do during the week but didn't." I countered.

"This is a unique and temporary situation, once the paperwork is done and the new school year starts everything will be back to normal!" she defended.

And just like that, I had her. "A so-called "unique and temporary situation" that you yourself complained about extensively the other day. The way you spoke about it implied that it was not the former and instead both a recurring and frustrating problem!"

She sputtered for a moment, trying to string together a few words.

"There is no shame in taking a break when you're overstressed and overworked," I continued in a softer tone. "You said so yourself that you don't know how to deal with all of this. Now it might seem counter-intuitive, but the road to better productivity is paved with taking time away from your work. Taking time for proper RNR. Stop spending your nights at a table with a cup of coffee and a stack of papers that never seems to get any smaller. Sleep in your own bed, normalise your sleeping schedule. Start by coming and taking a bloody walk."

Starlight frowned at me, upset that I'd caught her up in what would otherwise have been an innocuous lie. "Fine. I'll go for a walk. But I'm not going to enjoy it."

Today, I felt like doing something different than my norm. No walking through town for me, even if I was doing it with Starlight in tow. I wanted to go for a walk in the woods. Not very deep, but far enough that all that was around were trees and bushes. Anticipating that it might become a bit of a hike, I packed some granola bars and some rope, along with a few other things that would be useful into the old green saddlebags I'd been borrowing. Compass, a few metres of rope spooled around a brass tinderbox, a whistle, box of matches as backup, roll of twine, needle and thread, adhesive bandages, big medical scissors, waterskin, pillar candle - a big one. You know, office supplies.

"Those're my old saddlebags." Starlight commented.

"I wanted to go for a walk in the woods today, so I hope you don't mind me borrowing them to carry some stuff. Emergency supplies in case things get hairy."

"Emergency supplies? Why would we need emergency supplies?" she asked.

"In case things get hairy, which would therefore qualify as an emergency according to the transitive property." I replied sassily.

"Oh, so you're going to be sassy today? Two can play at sassiness." Starlight rolled her eyes.

I smirked a bit. "Well, technically it has the same rules as roulette, so any number of people can play."

"You're a gambling colt?"

"Gambling is a bad habit to get into."

"Good. Lending to gamblers is an even worse habit." Starlight said.

Without anything to say to that, I waved for her to come along with me.

It was nice outside, now that the rain was over. The sun was beginning to peak through the clouds, warming up the air somewhat. The rain had cleared the air of even the residual smells of civilization, and all that remained were the earthly smells of nature. It was a vaguely sweet scent. Delightful.

The nearest proper woodland footed the mountains to the north and west of Ponyville, but extended nearly to the farmlands directly west of town. I could have gone to that one I'd first woken up in, but it was too small, and the only other close forest was on the other side of a river that I didn't want to cross. It took about 20 minutes moving at a steady pace along a narrow road that twisted around the edges farmer's fields for us to actually reach it.

When we got to the forest's edge, I felt like a sort of weight had been lifted from my shoulders. A weight I hadn't noticed until it was gone. I placed my hoof against the white bark of the nearest tree, running it along the surface, feeling its texture. In the canopy above us, its leaves rustled softly in the breeze. They looked like they were dancing on the wind.

"Do you know what kind of tree this is?" I asked Starlight.

She looked at it and thought for a moment. "Birch?" she ventured.

"Poplar. You'd be forgiven for confusing it with a birch because they're visually very similar, especially as saplings. But, you can always tell the poplar from the birch by looking at its base. Down here, the white turns to a craggy grey," I explained softly. "And you can tell the birch from the poplar by looking at how the bark of the birch naturally peels away in places. To make double sure, you can feel birch's almost papery texture."

"That sounds familiar." Starlight responded with disinterest.

"Birch is a good wood for burning. Burns long and hot, if you ever have a choice for your firewood pick birch over almost any other kind of wood. And, if I remember correctly, there is a technique where you can take the bark and make canoes out of it."

"Wait, what? Canoes?" Starlight asked incredulously.

"Yep, canoes. It was a technique used by the... well, it was used by someone. A big group of them, actually. It helped form the lifeblood of... something. I can't remember what it was, but I still know it was pretty useful. They'd find a tree of suitable diametre, cut into the bark deeply enough to let them peel the outermost layers off, then dry it for a season. If they did it right, they'd get a piece of bark that was waterproof and usable for all sorts of things. But, because you couldn't find a tree large enough to make a single canoe out of, you'd need to harvest quite a few trees." I continued. It was useless trivia, especially now, but I was on a roll and wanted to try and eke out as much memory as I could.

"I can't imagine how they'd make a canoe out of that."

"Once you had the bark, you needed to sew it together using peeled spruce roots, and build a frame to hold the birch bark in place and create the interior of the canoe. It could be a little touchy, but everything would usually come together under the supervision of a competent canoe maker. The holes where it'd been sewn would be patched with pitch, which provided waterproofing. In the end you had a robust vehicle for water travel that was light enough for two people to carry from waterway to waterway if need be." I finished.

Starlight looked at me curiously. "That was informative yet entirely useless to either of us."

"Something tells me I knew a lot of informative yet entirely useless things. Mostly the fact that I keep remembering informative yet entirely useless things," I shrugged. "Who knows, we might need to make a birch bark canoe someday, and I'll be able to walk us through it."

In actuality, making the canoe with traditional methods would take most of a season, not to mention the time to locate and prep the necessary materials. While I had the theoretical knowledge, I didn't have the practical knowledge of the process and how it worked to ensure that everything went smoothly. For now, us poor souls would have to walk around on our own four hooves instead of riding in style down a river full of rapids.

But what a walk it was. I had a gut feeling that I hadn't done something like this for a long time. Foraging ahead through the underbrush, looking up and marveling at the height of the trees, watching and listening to the sounds of the forest itself. The leaves rustled softly, squirrels chittered, bird twitted. In the distance I saw the more skittish wildlife studying us, evaluating us. They asked themselves, "Friend or foe?". I certainly wasn't a foe, but if one of them took offense to our presence I wasn't going to back down. I didn't have a knife, but I did have three claws on my left hoof, and a full set of chompers. If, say, a black bear were to arrive, I could drive it away. A grizzly bear though, if one of them showed up it would be curtains.

"Have you ever come out this way before?" I asked Starlight as we came to a wider stream. I only half listened as I tried to figure out the best way across.

"Oh, loads of times. Fluttershy actually lives somewhere around here." she answered.

"She's one of the ones you were going to introduce me to, right?"

"Yeah, but she can be pretty shy sometimes."

I chuckled slighty. "I suppose it's in the name. What does she do?"

"She's all about animals. Likes them a lot more than she does most other ponies, in fact. She'll keep to herself and take care of whatever creatures need the most help, only going into town for supplies and special occasions." Starlight said.

"A bit of a hermit, then. Living alone with only the forest dwellers as your friends... I could get behind that, but only if I didn't have any other responsibilities." I commented.

"She doesn't exactly live alone." Starlight smiled.

"A common-law partnership kinda deal?" I asked. I decided to cross the stream using the sizable fallen log that straddled the banks. As I made my way across, I balanced from side to side, feeling how the log shifted.

Starlight scrunched up her face. "Sort of? It's complicated. He kinda transcends most terrestrial laws so it's hard to figure out what applies to him."

"I would ask, but I think I'd get better answers from the guy himself. Do you think they'd mind if we dropped by?"

"I don't think they would, assuming they're home. I'll just need to orient myself real quick." she nodded.

As I watched, she enveloped herself in a bubble of magic and steadily floated upward into the sky through the canopy. After a brief survey of the land she lowered herself down beside me and pointed. "It's about a kilometre this way." she said.

"Lead the way." I smiled.

Picturesque. That's how I would describe this little cottage. It perched on the top of a little bluff and was accessed by a little bridge that arched over a stream. Around the back, there was a fenced yard, but the fence seemed to be more of a suggestion than a barrier. At one point the original building had been in the same style as the rest of Ponyville, but little additions and changes had given it a character all its own. It had a... flow to it that a lot of more conventional buildings lacked, what with their squared corners and polished gables. Yes, it was the same creamy brown plaster and timber framing, but the roof had been enveloped by greenery, and climbing vines and other plants spindled up the outside walls.

All that, of course, was overshadowed by the wildlife. The sheer amount of birds that were nested in the trees around it, in the roofing material, in little bird houses, was breathtaking. Cardinals, bluejays, whiskey-jacks, redpolls, chickadees, woodpeckers, and those were just the ones I knew the names of. In the stream below the bridge, there was a family of otters. A few chipmunks poked their heads out of their holes in our passing, greeting us.

"Lots of critters around here. Fluttershy really has time for all of them?" I asked skeptically.

"Yep! And she knows each one of them by name." Starlight nodded.

Though I was still skeptical, I nodded in agreement. "That's the mark of someone who cares."

The moment we stepped up to the door, something felt off to me. It was like a... whispering from behind my brain. It unsettled me, put me on edge. It continued as Starlight knocked at the door, and only faded as I heard hoofsteps up to the door. "He is here," was the last thing I heard from the whispers before they disappeared completely.

What the hell did that mean?

"Hi Starlight." came a quiet and subdued voice, belonging to a yellow pegasus with a pink mane whom I assumed was Fluttershy.

"Hi Fluttershy. Are you busy?" Starlight asked.

"Oh, not really." Fluttershy replied.

"Do you mind if we come in? I'd like to introduce you to someone new in town."

There was a brief pause. "Um, sure!" she said. Starlight entered the cottage, and I followed.

The inside of the main sitting room was quaint and cozy without being stuffy. There were little animal beds scattered everywhere, as well as a few of those cat climbing towers. There were small dens and nests and holes in the walls where animals had made their own homes within the home. Despite how many creatures lived here, nothing was disorderly or unkempt. I couldn't have named them all, but from what it seemed they all kept to themselves and left any disagreements they had outside the cottage. From his perch at the top of a tower, a white rabbit looked down on us disapprovingly.

"Fluttershy, this is Ink Blot. He's new in town, and he lost his memory so I offered to let him stay at the castle. It's a long story but to break his curse he needs to make friends. We were out for a walk and we were in the area so we decided to come by and see if you were home." Starlight introduced me.

"Hello." I said to Fluttershy.

"Hi." she said back.

"Ink Blot, this is Fluttershy. She loves animals, and she's one of the ones who originally stopped Nightmare Moon and then did a whole bunch of other things, like coming to my village. Thankfully she's forgiven me for the time I removed her cutie mark with magic."

"I hear you're pretty reserved." I commented.

"Yeah." Fluttershy replied. "Would you like some refreshments?"

"Tea, if you please." I humbly requested.

Fluttershy gave us a small smile and disappeared from the main sitting room into a side kitchen. The white rabbit hopped down to the ground and followed her, looking back at me with a frown.

"That rabbit doesn't like me." I chuckled.

"The only pony that Angel does like is Fluttershy, and that's because she's the one who feeds him. With anypony else, it ranges from tolerance to outright hate." Starlight smirked.

I was about to respond with something, but another voice that seemed to come from beyond time and space cut me off. "And that's enough of that." it rumbled.

Everything froze. None of the animals were moving. Starlight had been in the middle of taking a breath. Everything around me was absolutely silent.

"Wha-?" I stammered before there was a flash of light and a strange creature appeared on the couch across from me.

"Hello, Ink Blot. I must say, you're here a lot earlier than I'd expected you to be." said the creature. It was... an amalgam of bits and parts from a number of creatures. None of him made sense. It was like someone had chopped up a bunch of animals and glued together a bunch of random pieces to form an entirely new creature.

"What are you? How do you know my name?" I asked with hostility. "What have you done?"

"Oh, right, that whole memory thing, I'd better introduce myself again. I'm Discord, almighty spirit of Chaos and Disharmony!" the beast said, now suddenly wearing a fancy suit with a top hat, which he doffed in my direction.

I frowned. "Wait, I knew you?"

"In a way, yes! In this reality, no! We had a mutual friend, who I allowed to tap into my energies from time to time. You'd love him, always going on about doing the right thing." Discord snapped his... claws... and an old timey camera phased into existence. He put one of his arms around me, made a peace sign, and the camera took a picture. He took the picture, and stepped through a door that I swore hadn't been there before returning near instantly with a developed photograph. "Here, take this to remember our meeting by." the strange creature said as he stuffed the photograph into my left saddlebag.

"I don't understand. Did you do this to me?"

"Oh no, I had nothing to do with it. In fact, don't bother asking me to help with it because I can't. I may be a spirit of Chaos, but I still have to follow the rules, you know?"

"Rules?"

"Oh, you'd hate it being as powerful as me, especially with the new administration us supreme beings are under. No sense of humour what-so-ever! All they ever seem to care about is making sure the scales of Chaos and Order are in balance. Whenever some-draconequus like me tries to have a bit of fun, they send someone over to fix the books. Really makes you feel like a cog in the machine." Discord lamented, changing his dress to that of a beleaguered officeworker, his soul crushed by the piling failures of his life. Like a scene from a movie, for a moment he longingly held this old sports trophy that had a statue of himself in miniature on it.

"Can't you tell me a little more about myself, since you know me better than I do right now?" I asked again, trying to word the question carefully.

Discord thought for a moment, then summoned a filing cabinet that floated a foot off of the ground. He opened it, browsing for something.

"You sure are taking your time with it." I muttered.

He laughed heartily. "Oh, you don't need to worry about time right now. I've got us in a frozen time loop. Every five milliseconds we jump back 5 milliseconds back in time. I made sure to take an instant where Starlight's blinking and Fluttershy's busy in the kitchen for our little chat. Ah, here it is! A file all about you, which contains everything I'm allowed to tell you about. Look how thick it is!"

Discord tossed the file over in my direction, where it landed on the coffee table, face open. The very first page was simply my name, INK BLOT, written in a large and bolded typeface. Below that was a thick black line. I opened it to the next page:

THIS PAGE LEFT INTENTIONALLY BLANK.

So I went to the next page.

It was covered in horizontal black lines. All of it. I flipped again. Black lines. Again. Nothing but lines. There was no way it could all be covered up. I wouldn't believe it. I couldn't.

I flipped through about twenty more pages, all exactly the same; horizontal black lines from one margin to the other.

There was nothing here.

God damn it.

"Oh, I'm sorry Ink Blot. It looks like everything's been covered in black ink. Your file is almost completely classified. And not even by me! If I had the option, I'd give it all back to you just for kicks. But no, the administration requires that I give you nothing more than vague hints and poorly crafted foreshadowing, especially with a situation as unique as yours. Spoilsports," Discord said with mock concern, his face appearing on the page I was currently looking at, the lines rippling with his words. "I'm only allowed to properly manipulate ponies and people under my own jurisdiction, though if we get technical you are currently under my jurisdiction. It's just that anything I'd want to do with you has so much bureaucratic red tape around it that by the time I'd actually get through it, you'll have your memory back!"

"Then what's even the point of talking to me like this? In a self-sustained loop of time?" I asked with a sigh.

Discord smiled devilishly. "Because there is no point, my dear Ink Blot! In fact, when this ends, oh, let's say whenever I get bored of talking, it will be hard to tell if this moment ever happened to begin with! It's just a lazy way of acknowledging you without having to actually do anything about it! Though, I suppose I can warn you about one thing."

"What?"

"You memories aren't exactly what they're cracked up to be, as you probably guessed already. A lot of pain and loss and heartbreak, emphasis on the pain. There's some happiness there, but you'd really be better off if you let yourself forget about everything and move forward with life. There's lots of mares who'd fall head over hooves for a guy like you! Think about all the beach babes throwing themselves down in front of you at a chance to bask in your tragic backstory! Think about the beach babes, Ink Blot!" Discord urged me, before ending our conversation with a sneeze.

I barely had enough time to blink before time rushed back into place. Everything started moving like normal, and Starlight frowned for a moment before muttering something to herself.

Discord, however, was nowhere to be seen. It was like he'd never been there at all.

We didn't stay very long for tea, it was getting close to sundown and tomorrow was the last exam day. No matter what I had to say about the amount of work she was taking upon herself, there still were responsibilities she couldn't shirk. The two of us were walking back in silence along a well worn dirt pathway.

It was just like Discord had said, if he'd actually said it. That whole event seemed so otherworldly and unfathomable that I'd hardly have believed it happened at all... if it weren't for the photograph he'd stuffed into my bag. What the hell did it all mean? Everything he'd said was both entirely bizarre and oddly cryptic. A lot of it seemed like straight up nonsense, but maybe if I thought about it long enough I'd find meaning or insight.

"I'm surprised Discord didn't make an appearance." Starlight said as we were walking along a drystone wall.

"What?" I asked, snapped out of my thoughts.

"He usually likes to mess with anypony who comes to visit, does all sorts of weird thing. Good thing it's mostly harmless, and he values his friendship with Fluttershy too much to do anything that would put it in danger. Mostly harmless."

"Oh, that makes sense." I replied, not quite paying attention.

Starlight glanced at me. "Are you alright?" she asked me.

"Yeah. Thinking. About stuff." I sighed.

"About your past?"

"Yeah." I shrugged.

The skies were a distinct tint of orange, and all was still. The afternoon sun had dried up most of the rainwater, and now that it was evening the wind had died down somewhat. Ahead of us, a single tree stood at a crossroads. It was probably about 15 years old, based on how thick the trunk was, and its limbs were heavy with berries. The tiny fruits resembled dark blueberries with a tint of red, but I knew what they were.

"Do you know what kind of tree this is?" I asked Starlight as we came close.

"Not really. I'm pretty sure the berries aren't edible, if that's why you're asking." she said.

I half smiled. "This is the saskatoon tree, sometimes also called the serviceberry. The berries are completely edible. In fact, I used to eat them all the time."

Without waiting for a response from Starlight, I reached upwards with my left hoof, balancing onto my hind legs, stretching for the berries. I wobbled for a moment before finding my balance, and brought the claw mechanism closer before carefully closing it with my other hoof. Slowly, I pulled a single berry from the tree and lowered myself back to the ground.

I sat down and looked at the berry in my claws. It was ripe, without any bugs in it, without any blight. Perfect for the eating.

"My grandparents had a few trees that grew wild on their property. They had other wild fruits too, like raspberry and pin cherry and a few hardy apple trees. When we were staying with them, we would go out and pick and pick until the bushes and trees were all bare, then my grandpa would make it all into jelly or jam or even cider. I always loved to help them out, because you couldn't do things like that in the city anymore. They lived on the outskirts of town, where everything was greener and you could breathe properly," I smiled fondly, but the smile soon faded. "Maybe they were far enough out that when everything..."

Starlight frowned. "When everything... what?"

"I should have been there for them. But I wasn't." I said sadly and closed my eyes. Tears were welling up, and I didn't want to see them.

"Did something happen to them?" Starlight questioned, more than a little concerned.

My eyes snapped open, the trail of memory suddenly halted on by a dark presence. I could almost see it now, the fog lifting away as I reclaimed what I could of the memory. "I think so. I don't know what it was for certain, but... it was something horrible."

10 - Befriending II

Today was now Monday. Tomorrow would mark one week of being in Ponyville. Not exactly a grand accomplishment, but at the moment it was really my only accomplishment.

I decided that I was going to start today off right, with a nice cup of tea to go with breakfast. This was an exotic brand, from far-off Zebrica. It wasn't bad, though it certainly wasn't something I'd have again. That honour would be going to the lovely lavender tea that the Nice Little Cafe Across the Way made. Given who was working there, it wasn't exactly a contest. I made myself two slices of toast with raspberry jam to eat alongside the tea.

In a wonderful twist of fate, I did not find Starlight passed out at the kitchen table again. In fact, she had gone to bed at a reasonable hour and had just been on her way out the door when I finally decided to get up.

When I was on my way out the door, I received an invitation, delivered by a small green alligator. Well, by delivered I mean the alligator was sitting on the stairs with the invitation in its mouth, staring blankly out towards town. I felt a bizarre sense of camaraderie with the small alligator, what with its bulging pink eyes and lack of involvement. Not that my eyes bulged or I wasn't trying to be involved in things, but the alligator really captured how I felt in this day to day struggle; alone in a world I did not understand very well. Again, I wasn't exactly alone, but that was the way it felt sometimes.

The invitation read:

You've been invited to a SPECTACULAR PARTY! Head to the Castle of Friendship on the north side of town (You can't miss it, it's the giant crystal castle-tree!) no later than 6:49 this evening to have sweets and treats at Pinkie Pie's Celebration for the Safety of a New Friend!

It was surprisingly well done for an invitation that had been made in less than a day. It had been made so recently that a bit of the ink was still wet, and had smeared slightly when I'd taken it from the alligator. I stuffed it into my borrowed backpack and decided to make my way downtown.

I was just about to the town proper when out of the corner of my eye I spotted some strange movement between two trees. A silvery pegasus was lounging in a hammock strung between the two trees, though he didn't seem very comfortable. He was doing a lot of tossing and turning.

Remembering what Starlight had said, I decided to go talk to the lounging pegasus.

"Hello." I said when I thought I was close enough.

"Hello." the pegasus replied.

"You know, I've never slept in a hammock before." I commented, not really knowing what else to say.

"Oh, you haven't? I'd recommend it. Almost as good as sleeping on a cloud." the pegasus said.

"I haven't slept on a cloud either."

The pegasus nodded. "Well, if you want to know what it's like sleeping on a cloud, try a hammock."

"Where'd you pick up yours?" I asked.

"Got it at the Cloudsdale Swapmeet, from an old sailor who was looking to get rid of it for some reason. After using it, I think I know why." he said.

I looked at him quizzically.

"I'm stuck."

"Oh. Is that why you were tossing and turning so much?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Would you like a bit of help?"

"I'm actually supposed to be at work right now, so yes please." he smiled wryly.

"Fair enough," I replied. "Do you care if I cut you out as opposed to untangling you?"

"I can always just sleep on a cloud, so feel free to cut me out. Quicker than trying to untangle this mess, and I'm late enough as it is."

I shrugged, and took out my big medical scissors, the ones that were sharp enough to cut through bone if they needed to, and cut down the hammock. A few more snips later, and the pegasus was freed.

The moment he was freed from his hempen prison, the pegasus stretched his wings and picked himself up off the ground. "Thanks for that. Shame about the hammock, though. Are you new in town? I haven't seen you around before, and I'm generally pretty good with names and faces."

"I'm Ink Blot. Just got here last week, but I'm probably going to be here for a while." I said with a smile, offering my hoof.

"Well, I'm Radiant Star, lived here all my life. Probably the best delivery boy in town." he replied, giving me a hoof bump.

"Really? Are you fast?""

"Ehhh, not particularly. If you asked my mom she'd say I'm Wonderbolt material and something along the lines of "you should apply yourself more, Ray," but if you ask me I'm fine with keeping on the way I've been. I'm really good with navigation, know all the shortcuts and tricks to get around Ponyville. It's not quite the same as just going up in the sky and flying really fast to the destination, cutting out all the twists and turns, but sometimes you gotta take it slow because you're gonna squish the goods otherwise." he rambled.

I nodded. "Makes sense. What do you deliver?"

"Oh, all sorts of stuff," he boasted sarcastically. "I deliver bread. Mostly just bread. Pastries sometimes. Lotta folks don't like squished bread, and I can get from the bakery to any doorstep in town win under 15 minutes without squishing it."

"Impressive," I responded with equal sarcasm. "Where do you work, so I know where to get unsquished bread?"

"Oh, little place called the Bread and Butter Bakery. Right across the way from this cute little cafe-"

"No kidding, I've been there! Penny works the counter, right?"

"Dang, dude, you stole my thunder! I was gonna tell you about the seventeen varieties of bread we make," Radiant Star laughed. "But yes, Penny does work there. Why don't you tag along, so we can bug her about something?"

I chuckled. "Sounds good, maybe when it's time for your lunch break we can chat over coffee."

"Groovy." he replied. He started going, so I followed. Didn't exactly have anything better to do at the moment.

"Morning, Penny!" Radiant Star said cheerfully as we entered the bakery.

"Ray, I told you to stop coming in late. Hi Ink Blot, don't mind this slacker." Penny shook her head from behind the counter.

"Hello." I said.

"I've got an alibi today. A good one! I was stuck in a hammock!" Radiant Star smiled cheekily.

"How did you get stuck in a hammock?" Penny asked incredulously.

"Well, I didn't sleep well last night and I had to be up to help with something, so I figured I'd take a nap before work. When I woke up I was all tangled. Couldn't get out for the life of me."

Penny shook her head disapproving. "Only you, Ray. Only you."

"He only got out because I cut him out." I added.

"At least you're honest." Radiant Star shrugged. "What've we got for today's deliveries?"

"One white for Gracenote, four whole wheat for the Pralines, two pumpernickel for Dr. Rosenberg, five brioche for the Rich family, the usual shipment of muffins and bagels for the Cafe, and three braided light rye for Sauce Supreme on top of his usual order." Penny rattled off.

"Give me the list, I'll take half and be back in 30 for the rest. You got it all bagged?"

Penny nodded, and began setting the bags onto the counter as Radiant Star stretched a little bit. He put on this harness with several large pockets for bread bags, which he quickly filled. The bell above the door jingled as he went outside. As I watched, he stretched one more time before strutting forward, and lifting off the ground with a powerful sweep of his wings. He moved a lot quicker than I'd expected, what with the bread bags and him claiming he wasn't very fast.

"He seems like he's pretty good at what he does." I commented.

"Yeah, worked with him for almost three years now. Went to school with him, too. Weren't really close friends, but he was one of those kinda guys you wondered why you didn't hang out with as much as you should've, you know?" Penny said.

"I know what you mean. You wonder why you don't, say you should, then never do, right?"

"You hit the nail on the head with that one." Penny nodded.

I smiled, but Penny was quickly distracted by someone poking their head out from the back room. "Penny, could you give me some help with this? Cereal's on his break and I need somepony to move stuff with me." he shouted.

"I'll be right there, Mr. Brown! Excuse me for a bit, Ink Blot." she said as she trotted over to the door.

And that's when I noticed him. The author from before. There he sat, at the table by the big window with his pen and notebook, scratching away. His writing was so stilted and spidery that I couldn't quite make out what it said. On the table in front of him was a plate with an untouched croissant and a takeout cup of coffee from the cafe across the way.

Except right now he wasn't writing, only pretending to write as he side-eyed me. When he noticed me looking at him, his eyes bulged in alarm and he quickly turned the page over and rattled out at least half a page's worth in the blink of an eye.

"What are you writing?" I asked hesitantly.

"Uh, you see, it's.. um," the author sputtered for a moment. "It's still in the early stages right now, I'm halfway through the planning and it's not ready to read and you probably wouldn't like it anyway so-"

"Well, why don't you try me and see if it's any good?" I asked further, almost challenging him as I took a seat across from him.

"...It's about a, um, filly and... a colt?"

"Oh, romance. Those always sell pretty well, I hear." I smiled.

"...Yeah." the author said, glancing away nervously.

An awkward silence grew between us as we sat. The author was clearly uncomfortable, but my curiosity had been piqued and now I was interested in what he was doing.

"So... what's your name?" I ventured.

He looked at me for a moment, like he was struggling to understand what I'd said. Then he looked away. "...Quill." he said.

"Nice to meet you, my name's Ink Blot. You were here the other day too, right?"

"Well, uh, I'm here most days really," Quill replied. "It's... quiet. I like the quiet."

"Oh, the quiet can be pretty nice. I guess I disturbed your quiet when you came in." I said sheepishly.

"Yeah." he said sharply

"What do you do? Like, when you aren't here." I questioned.

"You ask a lot of questions to somepony you just met."

I shrugged. "What can I say, I want to get to know you. I'm trying to make friends around here and I'm not that picky. Having lots of kinds of friends can open up a lot of different opportunities, you know."

"Friends..." Quill sighed. "That's what it's all about these days, isn't it?"

When he said that, it was clear to me that I wasn't welcome as his friend, and so I decided to gracefully take my leave. "Really seems like that's what the world revolves around, yeah. Anyway, I won't take up any more of your time. hope your book goes well." I said politely before turning away.

"Wait."

I halted midstep, then looked over my shoulder. Quill had set down his writing and was looking strangely at me.

"You're... different. I've never seen anyone like you before. Pony or otherwise." he said enigmatically.

"Well, I am pretty new in town-"

"That's not how I meant it," Quill cut me off before I could finish. "You're different, there's something about you that... well for lack of a better term you have an unusual aura."

This personality change unnerved me. Why was he so interested in me now? "That's, uh, one way to put it. maybe you've noticed the curse I'm under?"

"Maybe, maybe. What sort of curse is it?"

"It's messing with my memory, can't remember anything about myself other than little bits and pieces here and there." I tried to explain quickly.

"No, a simple curse like that wouldn't mess with your aura that bad. Unless it wasn't exactly "simple", in which case there is a lot more to you than meets even my trained eyes."

"Unless you're gonna help me get rid of it, it's not worth talking about right now." I sighed at him, a little frustrated at his change in character.

Quill nodded sagely. "I can try to help you alright, but I'll need some time to prepare. I don't exactly know what I'm going to do about it, but it'll require a great degree of trust from you."

"Sure, but can you go back to being that shy author again? You're kinda weirding me out." I said.

"You wanted my attention and now you've got it. Don't look a gift... something-or-other." Quill waved his hoof dismissively at me.

"So are you saying you want to be friends after all?" I asked.

"What's a level down from friends?"

I thought for a moment. "Acquaintances, I guess."

"No, no, above that but below friend." he waved again.

"Buddy, maybe. Pal is also up there."

"I can handle being a buddy," Quill nodded happily. "Pal has too much baggage that I don't want to deal with."

"What do you mean, baggage?" I asked incredulously.

"Just ignore that and shake my hoof, buddy." Quill muttered.

So I did. He held it for an awkward amount of time before I cleared my throat and took my hoof away. He looked at me, and I looked at him.

"Now what?" I asked.

"I don't know." Quill replied.

"Do you want to come along to a party a friend of mine is putting on for me?" I asked.

"Is that something a buddy would do?" Quill countered. I nodded at him, so he said "I accept. But! Strictly as a buddy, none of that friendship nonsense."

"Fine by me." I shrugged off.

Just then, the bell on the door rang as somepony entered the store. Just as expected, it was Radiant Star.

"Hey there, Radiant." I greeted him.

He shook himself off before replying, "Just call me Ray, dude. Radiant is kinda too much of a mouthful. Same with calling you Ink Blot, actually. Do you have a nickname?"

"Guy I know calls me Inks, but I'll respond to about anything as long as it's not something vulgar and insulting." I smiled.

"I'll just call you Inks then. Or maybe Inky, that's got a nice ring to it." Ray said.

"No, it's too close to Pinkie and I think that could get too confusing. You could try Clyde." I suggested.

Ray blinked disapprovingly. "What kinda name is Clyde? I'll stick with Inks."

Just then, Penny stuck her head out of the back room. "Hey, could one of you help with something for a minute?" she asked nicely.

"I thought you were helping Mr. Brown move stuff?" I asked back.

"I was! But somehow he's locked himself in the basement, and the key broke off in the lock." she sighed.

Ray and I looked at eachother. He shrugged and stepped into the back room, and not hearing any objections I followed.

The back room was what I'd expected of a bakery. There was a wall of ovens, half of them woodfired and half heated by natural gas. Spread throughout the room were tables and counters with space for mixing and rolling out dough. A pony, absolutely covered in powdery white flour was in the middle of kneading an oversized lump of dough. He seemed lost in his work and paid no mind to the hammering coming from this large wooden door barely three feet away. There were cupboards full of baking supplies, large bowls and bread pans hung from hooks on the walls and above the tables.

"How'd he get stuck in the basement?" Ray asked.

"We'd just got the last bag of flour down there, and I'd come up to get back to the counter. He stayed down to reorganize something, and he'd put the wedge in the door before we went down. When I turned around the door was shut. You know him, he likes to keep it locked most of the time. And Cereal only brings his key when he's the only baker in."

"And somehow Mr. Brown's key broke off in the lock?" I asked.

"IT WAS A VERY OLD KEY, AND IT WAS CHEAP! I KNEW I SHOULD HAVE REPLACED IT SOONER!" shouted a voice from the other side of the door. Evidently Mr. Brown could hear us just fine.

"Well. Have you got a saw or axe or something?" I asked.

*Shunk!*

A very large meat cleaver suddenly embedded itself deep in the wood of the door. We recoiled from it, startled. I don't know how he'd managed it, but Cereal had moved from his spot kneading dough to the wall directly across from the door, and thrown the cleaver.

The flour covered pony shrugged. "Didn't work," was all he said before turning around and removing a series of bread pans.

"What in the hay?" I asked nobody in particular as we cautiously looked at Cereal.

"Has he ever done that before?" asked Ray.

"No, no he hasn't." Penny shook her head.

"WHAT HAPPENED?" Mr. Brown shouted from the other side of the door.

"Nothing!" Penny shouted back. "We're still trying to figure out how to get you out!"

"I'D PREFER TO BE OUT SOONER THAN LATER!"

I looked at the door. It seemed to be solid wood, and my suspicions were confirmed when I knocked on it. "Got any screwdrivers?"

"Not that I know of." Penny said.

"Hinges are on the other side of the doorway." Ray pointed out.

"Hmm," I tried to think of what else we could try. "Maybe I could call in an expert. Ray, do you know Gyro the Griffon?"

"Not really. Is she the one who keeps making craters around town?" Ray replied.

"Yeah, she lives in an old smithy, north-east part of town. Good with tools and such, a regular brainiac. Made this fancy thing on my hoof." I explained, holding up the claw device and operating it deftly.

"That thing works?" Ray asked. I nodded, and demonstrated by using it to grab a bread pan on the nearby counter. The two of them were moderately impressed.

"That'd be pretty useful, it's certainly a step up from the hoof-straps I normally use." Penny commented.

I shrugged. "It's only her first working prototype, buuuuut Gyro said yesterday that she could make a better one soon enough. She works pretty damn fast."

"Especially if all the craters around town are anything to go by." Ray chuckled.

"What do you mean craters? I thought those were just very large potholes." Penny said.

"That's because you don't get out much. Sometimes I've been out on deliveries and watched her flying machine crash right down a few feet away from me. Then it's barely a day or two later and she's got another one she's crashing." Ray continued.

"Try saying that to her face, she might take it as a compliment." I smiled.

When Ray eventually flew off to fetch Gyro, as well as take care of his second round of deliveries, we assured Mr. Brown that we'd get him out as soon as we could. I waited by the basement door in case he needed anything or wanted to talk while Penny went back to her spot at the counter.

I had to admit, there was something mesmerizing about watching that Cereal lad do his thing. There was an uncanny flow to his movements, an expertise and knowledge that only comes after years of experience and practice. He almost never stopped his work, always having something he was actively doing, be it mixing or rolling or kneading or braiding or sprinkling a bunch of seeds on top of a large roll or bun. It quite honestly impressed me. The only pony I'd seen with even a remotely similar level of focus and commitment was Rags, but he had a different skill set entirely.

Eventually, Ray returned to the store with Gyro in tow.

"Let's take a look at this stuck door, then!" she said cheerfully, setting down a toolbox. She inspected the door from top to bottom, taking verbal notes on a few things. The rest of us gathered behind her, minus Cereal who was hard at work.

"Think you can get it open?" Penny asked after a while.

Gyro shrugged. "No, but trying something's better than nothing!"

"You're not wrong," Ray agreed. "What're you thinking of trying?"

"Well, if I had the option I would always start with the hinges, but only if the door has enough give, you see? Take it off the hinges, you can bypass the lock entirely. Of course, the hinges are on the other side of the doorway, so we're gonna have to try something else here. I could try cutting through the door itself, but this thing's made of some real tough oak so that'll take all day. Really nice door by the way, Mr. Brown! Shame you're on the other side of it!" Gyro rambled on excitedly.

"THANK YOU! IT'S CUSTOM MADE!"

"The other way to do it is to take apart the doorknob itself, but for some reason this is one that's been made resistant to tampering. The screws and fittings are on the other side, with Mr. Brown and the hinges. Hey, isn't that a cool band name? You should think about starting one with a name like that. Yesterday I met a pretty good pianist who might be able to help with that-"

"Gyro, the door." I reminded her.

"Yes, yes, I'm getting to it," she dismissed me with a wave of her claws. "If we can't mess with the doorknob, we gotta mess with either the door frame or the thingy inside the door. I didn't think to bring a circular saw, but that would have made it real easy and I could have just cut above and below the latch and taken out the socket for the thingy inside the door. But! I do have a set of files that should fit in the gap here so I can saw through the latch."

"How long will that take?" Penny asked.

"20 minutes, maybe longer? Depends on the metal used for the latch, and how good my files are."

With no one else having any better ideas, Gyro quickly got to work on the door latch, very carefully working a file between the frame and the door. She paid no mind to the large meat cleaver that had been embedded into the door. I would have stayed nearby to chat, but my attempts to start a conversation were politely ignored as Gyro worked away.

So, I went back out to the storefront. Penny had just finished serving a customer, who went out the door with a large bag of bagels. Ray, having finished his work for the day, was lounging in a chair by the counter. Quill was still in his spot, and as far as I could tell he was actually doing some writing. Ray, Penny and myself made small talk, and when Gyro eventually freed Mr. Brown, she joined us as well.

The time for partying fast approached. Penny and Gyro had said that they'd received invitations from the same small alligator I had. I also gathered that Ginger and Rags had gotten similar invitations. As an executive decision from the person the party was being thrown for in the first place, I decided to extend my own invitation to both Ray and Quill. It was usually bad form to just have people show up out of the blue, but my purpose was to make as many friends as i could to try and break the bloody curse.

Besides, there was a note on the back of my invitation that said the invitation holder was free to invite up to two additional ponies to the party.

Not knowing what kind of party it was going to be, I figured that arriving last and alone would be best. Like I was being baited into attending a surprise party, but different in that I knew exactly when and where the party was happening. Therefore, I eventually excused myself and let Ray, Penny, and Gyro make their own way to the party. Quill had... disappeared somehow, and even though I'd given him the details I half-doubted that he'd even show up.

So it was, that just before 6:49 that evening, I returned to the castle. Out on the front step, Rags was sitting in a camping chair while reading a book. The horizon had begun to take on the orange tinge of sunset, but it would be a while yet before sundown.

"Well, it's about time you showed up." Rags commented as I made my way up the steps.

"Time on the invitation said 6:49 pm, exactly." I said.

"No, it said "no later than"," Rags looked at me over the top of his ovoid reading glasses, as they perched low down on his nose. He cracked a smile and took a pocket watch out of his chair's cup holder. "And you're right on the money, it's currently 6:47 pm. Congratulations, you aren't late. Yet."

"Think they'll take a rain check?" I asked jokingly.

Rags rolled his eyes. "If only we were so lucky. Everypony's been waiting patiently for you, because the Mayor of Mirth says that the party can't start until you get here."

"How long have they been waiting?"

"The last guest other than you got here about ten minutes ago."

"Well, let's get the party started then." I said with a small smile. Rags got up and stretched, folded up his camping chair and slung it over his back with its carrying strap before opening the castle door. I followed him inside.

Unexpectedly, the party was being hosted in the large central room, with the crystal thrones and circular table. Everyone was here; Starlight, Gyro, Applejack, Ginger, Ray, Penny, the barista from the Nice Little Cafe Across the Way, Pinkie Pie herself, and even Quill, along with a few others who I had yet to meet. There was a grey pegasus with yellow hair and swirly eyes, the DJ from Rags's show who wore these massive pink sunglasses, and lastly a brown pony in a very long scarf in earthy colours.

The room was well decorated, with streamers and hangers and banners and balloons. There were bits of confetti everywhere, and a tiered cake towered high on the central table. Various other snacks and dainties and delights were arrayed outward from the cake. All of the decorations seemed to make the crystal of the castle come alive, made it seem less foreboding and unnatural. Or maybe, considering it was a magic castle, it was actually reflecting the atmosphere and attitudes of the ponies (and Gyro) inside it. Now that was a thought.

"OHMYGOSH INK BLOT YOU'RE FINALLY HERE!" shouted Pinkie Pie mere moments after I stepped into the room. She threw a cloud of confetti into the air.

"This looks like a nice setup you've done. How did you put it together so fast?" I asked.

"Trade secret, donchya know?" Pinkie winked at me.

"Dang it, foiled again." I dryly cracked fun.

She giggled. "You'll like this party, I promise! Or my name isn't Pinkamena Diane Pie!"

I smiled halfheartedly, which only made her smile brighter and wider in response. A few moments later she disappeared, probably to do party things. Everyone was clustered into small groups, except for Quill who had very consciously avoided being too close to any of the groups at all. Something about his behaviour seemed off, but I dismissed it as him just being weird and introverted. Still, even an introvert benefits from getting out and making friends.

As it was, I decided that the best course of action was to cycle through all the groups and chat, introduce myself to the new folks who'd been invited in.

Penny and Ray were standing around a pillar with the grey pegasus and the brown pony wearing a scarf. "Hello." I said to them.

"Ah, so it's the colt of the hour himself, eh? I've heard some good things about you, Ink Blot, mostly second-hoof of course, but I'm sure you won't disappoint. I'm the Doctor." the pony wearing a scarf said excitedly.

"Oh, is that like a medical degree or a PhD?" I asked politely.

"Sort of like a PhD, I suppose? It's a touch complicated, though I'm sure you'll have the time to discuss the particulars in the coming days." the doctor nodded.

The grey pegasus, whose eyes pointed in two different directions, frowned. "He didn't say it, Doc." she said sadly.

"Say what?" I asked.

"Oh, right. The rest of my name is Whooves, usually when I introduce myself I call myself "the Doctor" people respond by asking "Doctor who?", then I can say "Precisely," because that's my name. Doctor Whooves."

"We can still do that if you'd like. I won't judge." I smirked.

"That's quite alright, Ink Blot, you needn't worry about bad jokes when Ray is around."

"Hey," objected Ray, "My volcano experiment was successful, unlike your weird clock thing!"

"Volcanoes were tired and played out years before you did yours! You only tied for first with me because you used spectacle to win over the judges! I used pure science, plain and simple!" the Doctor replied.

"Don't mind them. They're old rivals from back in the day. Butted heads at all the science fairs, the arcades, talent shows, you name it," Penny said aside to me and the other pegasus. "Anyway, this is my good friend Dee Dee, one of the local delivery mares."

"How do you do?" I introduced myself.

"I do well what I do, and I do do well. Do. Very well." she said, fumbling over her words.

"She's actually got a lot of names. Most people just call her Derpy, on account of... well you can see that plain enough." Penny began.

"No, I can't see plain enough," Derpy smiled, "Derpy Ditzy Bubbles Doo Hooves, at your service." she bowed and made an over-the-top gesture.

"We also know eachother from our school days, but unlike Doc and Ray, we actually got along."

"No, we get along too." Ray countered.

"Exactly, it's more of a... friendly rivalry." Whooves added.

"Like those two guys from the comic book." said Ray.

"Erm, you're not referring to the superheroes, are you?" Whooves asked.

Ray shook his head. "No, not them. The detective and his... assistant."

"I'd better not ask which of us is which." Whooves sighed.

Their conversation quickly turned to other things that I didn't really find very interesting, so I excused myself to join the next group around the room. Rags was pensively listening to something on borrowed headphones, bobbing his head to the beat of music that I couldn't hear. The good DJ P0n-3 waited patiently for his approval on it.

"Yeah, yeah, that's got a nice flow. Good work on the piano freestyle, really blends with the sample," Rags nodded, passing the headphones back to the mare. "Inks, my boy, how would you like to hear our latest collab?"

"Sure, is there like a sound system you could patch it into?" I asked.

The DJ nodded, and led the two of us over to a small wheelie table of electronics. She removed a cassette that said "Party Mix", and replaced it with the one from her portable player. It started rather subdued, with a piano solo leading into a jazzy-swing sample.

"That's some nice stuff, I like it." I said.

The DJ smiled and gave me a sort-of salute, before bumping hooves with Rags. He shook his head like hr couldn't believe something. "I don't suppose the two of you've been properly introed yet. This is Vinyl Scratch, who you might also recognize by her stage name, "DJ-P0n-3". She also doesn't talk much."

"Why talk when there's so much to listen to?" Vinyl said enigmatically.

I couldn't help but agree with Vinyl's words.

"Very true, very true. When you've got an ear for music, sometimes talking just gets in the way. Lucky for our joint concert series, I do most of the talking." Rags smiled.

The two of them remained at the wheelie table where Vinyl was queuing up tracks to play next, mixing everything on the spot with buttons and dials and turntables. The turntables weren't actually hooked up with records, but I imagined there was some jury-rigged system that connected them to the cassette player.

Ginger was talking with the other barista, who was still wearing his work uniform; a striped apron over a cream coloured shirt, as well as his nametag. It read "Cinnamon Swirl".

"Medium lavender latte with a chocolate chip muffin." he said as I approached.

"What?" I said back.

"That was your order the other day, correct?" Cinnamon Swirl inquired, his creampuff shaped mane bobbing slightly.

"Uh... yeah."

Ginger rolled her eyes. "Swirl, you're weirding him out."

"Good. I don't know why you even wanted me here. I could have been doing anything right now, like sleeping." he shook his head disapprovingly.

"I wanted to bring a friend to introduce to a new friend I'd made, you could have said no and I'd have just brought Hat Trick instead."

"You were going to bring up the time you covered my shift for an entire week as blackmail to guilt me into coming." Cinnamon swirl insisted.

Ginger sighed. "That was out of the goodness of my heart, not blackmail or guilt or whatever."

"It sounds like you only guilted yourself." I commented.

He opened his eyes wide in shock, then frowned and glowered in my general direction.

"Cinnamon Swirl, this is Ink Blot. Ink Blot, this is Cinnamon Swirl, my friend."

"I would say it was nice to meet you, but it really isn't right now. I just want to go home and sleep." Swirl sneered.

"We're staying for at least an hour, and after that you can go whenever you'd like." Ginger insisted.

Swirl was unhappy with this, but conceded the argument to Ginger. I didn't think he'd be much for casual conversation, so I excused myself at the first opportunity.

The last group - excluding Quill who still hid in what amounted to a corner - were clustered around the main table. Starlight, Gyro, and Applejack were in the middle of eating cake when I approached them.

"What do you think, Ink Blot? Does Pinkie put on a good party?" Starlight asked.

"So far, I'd say so. Decorations are put together well, it's not overly loud or obnoxious, good music, current friends and future friends, it's the exact kind of party I like to have." I replied.

"Well, it's not quite th' same as some of the other parties she's done. Hootin' and hollerin' and lotsa sugar. In fact, when Twilight first came to town she threw a massive party with just about everpony in town attendin' it!" Applejack said.

"Mmmm, first party I've had in a long while," Gyro said between beakfulls of cake.

"When was the last one?" I asked, curiously.

Gyro thought for a moment, chewing her cake pensively, "...When I first came to town, actually. Pinkie put one on for me but I was more concerned about getting work started after crashing my first flier... into the place she was holding the party. I was only there on accident, really."

"Speaking of Pinkie, where is she right now?" I asked them. The three of them looked at eachother, but they didn't have an answer for me.

But, the answer came soon enough. And it wasn't one that I would enjoy.

"Hear ye, hear ye! The moment that you've all been waiting for is about to happen!" came the voice of Pinkie Pie over the sound system. I looked over to Rags and the DJ, but Pinkie was nowhere near either of them. In fact, I couldn't see her anywhere.

"Ink Blot! Are ya ready?" Pinkie asked from somewhere behind me. I turned to look at her, but what I saw made my blood run cold.

She was standing there, and in front of her was an oversized cannon. It would have been comical, with its bright paint scheme, if it had not been pointed directly at me. I might have been fine with it, moved out of the way without a fuss, if it weren't for one simple fact.

The fuse had been lit. And it was a short one.

I nearly panicked and froze in place, but a trained instinct jolted me into action. "Get down!" I shouted, pushing Starlight, Applejack, and Gyro out of the way before dropping flat to the ground. My heart was beating like a drum. I rolled to the side, curled up and covered my ears, waiting for the explosion, waiting for the cannonball to rip its way through the room with a loud crack, driving itself into the far wall.

But it didn't. The only sound the cannon made was a harmless wheeze, accompanied by a rush of air. I opened my eyes, confused. What the hell had happened? Where was the boom?

Had I been wrong?

When I opened my eyes and looked, the only thing that the cannon had discharged was air, and a cloud of confetti. The confetti seemed to hang in the air forever as the silence in the room grew.

Everyone was looking at me. Most faces were some bizarre mix of confusion, concern, and even a little bit of fear. I didn't get it, and my temper flared.

"What the hell, Pinkie?" I shouted angrily. "If that was a real cannon you could have killed us!"

Even as I was saying it I knew I'd made a mistake. For the first time, Pinkie Pie's face didn't have some kind of smile on it. He lip quivered like she was trying to say something, and tears began to stream down her face.

"I didn't mean- Pinkie, I'm- that was-" I sputtered and tried to explain, tried to muster some kind of defense or apology for what I'd said. But there wasn't anything good enough.

Shame. Shame was what I felt. Everyone was still looking at me, and I could only think of one thing to do.

I ran, I ran back outside to the streets of Ponyville.

Author's Note

Throwback to that one time in Grade 3 when I didn't know the difference between "Mayor" and "Mare" and was upset when my teacher misunderstood what I wanted to do on my art project.

11 - Thinking

I did not return to the castle that night. Could not return, not after making Pinkie cry, at least until she calmed down and I could apologise. Luckily for me, it was a warm night, without even a touch of rain. I found a hollow underneath a bridge where I was out of the casual viewer's eyesight, sat down, and started to think.

At first, all I could think of was how I'd reacted. There'd been a brief moment where a strange instinct took over... an instinct that I realised was very familiar to me. What I needed to do was identify its origin, try and trace its place within my memories. The way to do that, of course, was to lay out exactly what I knew about myself.

I'd lived with my mother and grandparents, until my mother died due to unknown circumstances. After her death, I left home to do, well, something. I didn't really have a clue as to what it was, except that it was the same something that my great-great uncle had done, and died doing.

Mental fog notwithstanding, this meant that whatever I had gone to do was potentially life threatening, though it wouldn't rule out very much. A lot of seemingly everyday tasks had the spectre of death hanging over them, even if it wasn't directly related to the task itself. It was possible that my great-great uncle had gone out knowing the dangers involved. It was also likely that whatever he had gone to do was sufficiently glamourous that it inspired me to follow behind him. Of course, it could have been fueled by anger and spite.

When I'd jumped out of the way of Pinkie's cannon, and pushed everyone I could out of its firing line, I had done it because I recognised it as a weapon. What kind of weapon? One that combined explosive powder with a large cast iron ball; when the powder was ignited the metal of the cannon contained and directed the explosion to propel the ball out of the cannon and at its target. Antiquated in design, but without much else to go on I could only assume that cannons were not prolific enough for everyone else to recognise it as a weapon. Except... it wasn't a weapon. It was a tool used to redirect confetti and party decorations, probably by using compressed air. Were such "party cannons" exceptionally common? Not where I'd come from, or I'd have recognised it as one.

Then, there was my ingrained reaction when faced with the observer on the town hall rooftop. I wasn't under any direct threat, but seeing the way the sun reflected off of what I assumed was a telescope of some kind, I immediately wanted to break line of sight with it. Then immediately after I had started questioning the intent of the crowd around myself and Applejack, watching for danger.

Those weren't behaviours and reactions that just appear out of nowhere. I had learned them, likely the hard way. There was only one place where you needed to constantly be aware of potential dangers, only one where reacting even a fraction of a second faster meant the difference between survival and death, only one where death's pale spectre lurked around every corner. At least, only one that made sense with what I knew.

War.

Everything seemed so much clearer. That simple word was like a key that opened up part of my mind.

Still, it wasn't just the word on its own that had done it, but being able to connect the dots between forms of memory. When I'd left home like my great-great uncle's had before, I had left to join the military, to serve in a war far from home. My family had resisted this, especially my grandpa who'd only been a child when his uncle was killed. But by then I had been old enough to sign up regardless of his wishes.

And that was about where my insights ended. A new piece of the puzzle to work with, and the first solid answer I'd had for a while. It gave me a few ideas on where to look for more answers, and chief among them was Military History.

But there was still another question I needed to answer. What was that spyglass thing I'd found? I cursed myself. In my haste I'd left it in my bags at the castle. This would have been the perfect time to inspect it, and there was no way for me to get it right now; the night had gotten too dark for me to find my way around without a lantern or flashlight. Which meant that I'd be staying right here until it got bright enough.

So, to pass the time until I inevitably fell asleep, I needed to make some plans.

I would need to apologise to Pinkie for my reaction, that much was certain. She couldn't have known what would happen. Hell, I couldn't have known. I had no idea on what to say, and I'd need to be careful so that whatever I said didn't seem like a lame excuse for poor behaviour. Whatever I did end up saying and doing, it would have to come straight from the heart, not from the head.

I would also need to investigate the spyglass, take it to an expert. Maybe Gyro would know something about it, give me a clue as to its intent. I doubted it was related to my curse, but I didn't like being watched from the shadows.

And finally, I needed to do some research. Case the public library, look through Starlight's library, maybe even consult with local historians. Even things that constituted public and common knowledge could be useful.

As I planned my actions, my eyelids slowly grew heavier. I saw no harm in shutting them, letting my eyes rest for a while. Sleep came quicker than I'd expected, and I welcomed it.

It was dark.

A single streetlight flickered above me, the only working source of light for several blocks. I heard the crunch of shattered glass beneath my boots. Strewn across the street in front of me was the wreckage of an old building, toppled during the day's struggle.

"Shame, isn't it?" came a voice from off to my left. I didn't look at him, only scanned the street left and right as I slowly continued forward.

"Yeah." I replied curtly. Even though he was my friend, I didn't have the time or patience for him right now.

"That old place used to be this town's pride and joy. Now look at it, shattered in the street like cheap glass," he continued, "I used to think us coming here was the right thing to do. Now? Not so much."

I couldn't help but agree. All I wanted right now was to leave and go home, but we had orders. And if we didn't follow those orders, our fellow soldiers would pay for it. but I didn't say that, instead I scoffed, "You signed away your life just the same as I did. Don't pretend there's any morality involved."

"I signed up because I was naive and believed the propaganda they were feeding us back home, believed that if I were here I could make a difference. If I'd known what was really going on I'd have stayed home."

"Drop the skylarking, game faces now. We're almost to the mark." ordered the team lead.

I nodded in understanding, and the team continued forward through the quiet of the night. We moved silently and swiftly, ducking past a burnt out car.

And then I saw it, a flash of movement from the corner of my eye, from the rooftop to our south. I opened my mouth to shout a warning--

*Crack!* *Crack Crack!*

"Ambush!" shouted the team lead, but it was too late for Pines, dropping dead instantly. Hostile sniper had nailed him. The rest of us dropped into whatever cover we could find, mostly rubble and abandoned vehicles.

"Pines KIA," I keyed into or squad frequency. "Hostile sniper on the rooftops to the south."

"Popping smoke, try and get to a better position," the team leader replied emotionlessly. The canister flew down the street, bouncing to the side before releasing a thick white smoke that slowly obscured our view of the building down the way. "Cut into the buildings, get some height, we need that sniper gone yesterday."

"Boss, we have tangos approaching from our rear," someone said as we made our moves.

"Roger. Marksmen you're on counter-sniping, others dig in to repel hostiles." the team leader ordered.

Me and two others cut left into the nearest building, kicking in the door...

But that was the wrong move. I watched helplessly as my squadmate stumbled face first into a trap. A landmine had been laid under the floorboards, causing it to bulge up slightly in one spot. He came down on that bulge. Hard.

I was knocked on my ass, the other guy was thrown to the side of me. I fell limply into the street, dazed, crumpling to the ground, staring into the sky.

When I fell, at first all I could think about was about the rest of the squad. Where were they? Were they alright? Did they need first-aid? These thoughts were accompanied by the harsh ringing in my ears.

It seemed like everything had slowed down to a crawl. Everything was still, unnaturally still. But then, the clouds overhead broke, and I caught a glimpse of the stars. They were beautiful. Tiny dots of light an unfathomable distance away from me, traveling over thousands upon thousands of years just for me to see them right here, right now...

Except they were moving. Warping. No, they were taking the shape of something. What was it?

It was a face, blurred and out of focus. I tried to look at it closer, squinted so I could see them better, but it didn't help. I frowned, as the whisperings of an ethereal voice echoed in my mind.

"WHAT ARE YOU?"

I awoke with a start, my heart pounding in my chest. What the hell happened? Was that a dream? It had felt so real...

The sun had begun to peek over the horizon, casting long shadows across the ground and giving everything that morning glow. I wasn't sure whether to welcome it or to curse it. I was about to get up and figure out what I was actually going to do today, but a familiar face poked around the corner.

"Hello there, Ink Blot. Fancy seeing you here."

"Quill? Honestly I didn't expect you'd be the first to find me." I said.

"I didn't either, but your root is so distinct that it's hard for me to ignore." Quill smirked.

"What do you mean, "root"?" I asked.

Quill waved his hoof around dismissively. "Your Root, it forms the core of your aura. Everything else grows out from it, from memories to emotions to thoughts. Either way it's good that I came across you. I had an idea regarding that curse of yours."

"Oh, lovely," I muttered. "What about the others? I'd assume they're worried about me at this point."

"Yes, yes, of course. They've been looking for you for a while, stayed up all night for it. Very worried, especially that Starlight character. Pinkie Pie was absolutely beside herself, saying that it was all her fault, and that Applejohn--"

"Applejack. Her name's Applejack. Cut the shit, I'm going to go talk to them." I interjected.

"I would let you go, but there's a very important factoid about what I'm going to do. You need to be feeling some particularly strong emotions, otherwise I can't get a proper reading on you. Make your choice now, curse breaking or friend talking, it doesn't matter to me right now." Quill smiled.

"You're getting 15 minutes, tops. After that I'll be doing whatever I please, which is apologising to my friends." I declared.

Quill shrugged. "Good thing my apartment isn't very far away. Follow me."

I was lead to the second floor of a slightly more modern looking building. Unlike some of the other buildings, which had thatched roofs, this one had was shingled with slate, and had a very grey and brown colour scheme. Quill unlocked the door and stepped inside, so I followed. The appartment was rather threadbare, without much in the way of furniture outside of the essentials; a dining table with two chairs, a futon, a small counter with stove and refridgerator for food preparation, and a separate bedroom.

While I was inspecting his stuff, Quill opened a drawer and removed a stubby piece of green chalk, and drew a strange pattern on the ground. Many different shapes and symbols snaked through it, but the one that stood above them all were the hexagons. They were the central philosophy on which the pattern was founded. Everything was made in sixes, or multiples of six. Even that slight piece of understanding boggled my mind, and I could barely scratch the surface of the rest of it.

"Okay Ink Blot. Stand there, I will stand here. Try to relax, but hold onto those strong emotions. The stronger they are the easier it will be for me." Quill said, indicating two hexagons that faced eachother. I stood in one, and he stood across from me. I could almost have reached out and touched him, but resisted the urge.

He closed his eyes, standing firm as a brilliant green glow enveloped his horn, slowly reaching across the short space between us. I heard a distant whisper from the back of my mind, but it was too faint to clearly make out. A shiver went up my spine and down my tail. Quill lowered his horn to point squarely at my forehead.

And nothing happened.

I tried to relax, I really did, but I couldn't help but think of how horrible Pinkie must be feeling. All she wanted to do was make people laugh, tell jokes, throw parties, have fun, but she'd unwittingly done the complete opposite of what she'd intended.

Quill, however, had begun to frown as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. It turned into a grimace, and he shook with exertion. I was sent flying across the room by a flash of emerald green energy, which blinded me momentarily. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, trying to recover as quickly as I could. All I could see was green tinted smoke.

"Quill?" I coughed. "Quill, What happened?"

He did not answer.

"Quill?" I called again, wondering where he was.

I felt my way over to the nearest wall and pushed open the first window I could find. The smoke began to billow out, and I coughed some more while I tried to help it on its way. When it was clear enough for me to see I looked back to where Quill had been earlier...

He wasn't there. In his hexagon there were only scorch marks. In fact, there were scorch marks everywhere. Every single line of chalk he'd drawn was now burned into the floor.

What happened to him? Was he dead? Had he been vapourised? I hoped not, I really hoped he hadn't. I was almost ready to face the uncomfortable truth when I saw something moving on the other side of the room. Quill, or what remained of Quill, had been thrown across the room and landed at the base of the far wall in a heap. I cautiously made my way over, looking for any sign of life on his blackened form.

Hold on a minute.

That wasn't Quill.

The thing that lay at the base of the wall was not a pony. Neither was it a griffon. No, it resembled an insect more than anything else, one that had been twisted into a form that resembled a pony on the surface level. But that shiny black carapace would never have passed more than a cursory examination. On its ugly mug it had a single horn that curved upwards, and two large fangs and ears that looked like ragged fins. Down the back of its neck was a third fin, and where a tail would be on a regular pony there was a fourth fin. Its legs were scarred and full of strange holes and dimples, which unnerved me. The last thing I saw was a pair of wings that reminded me of a beetle.

It opened it's eyes a crack, revealing these dull pink spheres. It looked at me and smiled. "Well, Ink Blot, that thing in your brain is pretty feisty," it said. I did not return its smile, which caused it to frown. Then it opened its eyes wide in shock and realisation.

"What are you and what have you done with Quill?" I hissed at it, lowering my horn threateningly.

"This is awkward." it grimaced.

"Answer or I'll stab you here and now. Where is he?"

It chuckled a bit, "I don't know what to tell you, because I'm right here. I never expected you to find out the truth, at least not unless it were on my own terms. Would you please stop threatening me so I can tell you the truth?"

"I don't get it." I said, letting my guard down slightly and backing away. The insect stood up and shook itself off.

"I don't blame you, especially with that memory blocker. It's a real fighter, didn't like me doing my thing. Long story short, I'm a Changeling!" the insect smiled and bowed with a flourish.

"Changeling?" I asked skeptically.

"Check it out," he said as he was suddenly enveloped in a flash of green energy. When the energy disappeared, the bug had been transformed into Quill. "It's pretty nifty, I can take on the appearance of just about anypony. Maybe even a griffon if I tried hard enough."

I sighed as the connection clicked for me. "So Quill never really existed in the first place, then."

"Sorta. There's probably some pony out there who looks very similar to Quill, but everything else is all me. Except the name, of course, but that's not exactly an inspired choice. Wouldn't you know, there's hundreds of ponies with some variation on that name out in the world? I do, because I checked the Equestrian Census records." not-really-Quill shrugged.

"What even is a Changeling? What does that mean in a greater scope of things? Where did you come from? Why live under a different identity?" I asked in a torrent. There were so many questions that were popping into my mind, and I wanted answers to all of them.

He dropped his appearance as Quill, and shifted through a bunch of different looks, none of which I'd seen before. He shook his head at each of them, then frowned and suddenly turned into the spitting image of Starlight, cycling through everyone I considered a friend before settling on his original disguise.

"To summarise a long and troubled history, Changelings are creatures that feed off of Love. We disguise ourselves as friends and loved ones, then take their place to drain love from the relationship. Or at least that's the orthodox interpretation of it. In theory we can feed off of just about any emotion, but Love is the most delectable and filling of them all. Feeding on it gives us power, and with that power we can bring even more under our sway and feed from exponentially more creatures. At least in theory." he explained earnestly.

"So you're doing this for power." I said.

"It's not really about the power. All Changelings have an innate hunger for emotion, and we don't naturally produce it in a form we can consume ourselves. If you don't eat, you die. If it weren't possible to subsist on emotions other than Love, infiltrators like me would have died off or been discovered years ago."

That caught my attention. "I'm sorry, but saying "infiltrator" implies that someone sent you on this mission."

Quill gave me a wry smile and took a deep breath before continuing, "And that's getting into geopolitics. Until very recently, all Changelings in Equestria were part of a single massive hive under our mother, Queen Chrysalis. Equestria is a massive source of emotional power, especially Love. You guys have so much of it, that a lesser Changeling might go mad at the mere scent of it. The old Queen, she wanted to control Equestria, and therefore all of its emotional power. Three years ago, she tasked her hive with infiltrating Equestria in preparation for a complete takeover. That's why I'm here. I was hatched with hundreds of others to that end."

"That's... kind of depressing." I commented.

"It's fine as long as you don't think too much about it. She never did, which is why I'm even still here." he shrugged.

"That does beg the question though. Why tell me at all?"

"There's a funny thing that happens when you give someone who's been used all of their lives a whisper of freedom," Quill smiled as he changed back to his real form, "They get a taste for it. After a while out here on my "assignment", I figured out that it was a lot nicer being treated as an equal out here than as a peon back at the hive. When the Wedding Incident went down, I stayed here and laid low."

"Interesting. Tell me about this Wedding Incident." I requested, my interest piqued.

"Yeah, basically Ol' Chrissy Lissy went in and found herself some lovestruck prince, replaced his fiance, and started influencing his mind. He was also the Captain of the Guard up in Canterlot, and thus in charge of the city's defenses, mainly this giant magic dome that protected the city during the wedding. She waited until the day of the wedding, when the entire city was going to be distracted by the festivities, to launch the attack."

"I'm guessing it didn't work as intended."

Quill scoffed. "It was a complete and utter failure despite its promising start. Her disguise worked, sure, if you forgot about one little pony who just so happened to be the prince's little sister, who just so happened to have been foalsat by the very princess Chrysalis was impersonating. That pony, one Twilight Sparkle, freed the actual princess and confronted Chrysalis at the perfect moment. The shield was broken, sure, and the city well in Changeling control, at least until the princess reunited with her fiance and repelled the invasion force with a Love fueled magical pulse."

"The right pony in the wrong place made all the difference," I mused. "I guess you've been in hiding ever since."

"Sorta, there was a second attempt that went much better, until a defector from the hive usurped Chrysalis and cast her out. Now he's preaching some nonsense with sharing love with each other, all about friendship and camaraderie. I'm honestly a little skeptical about that whole deal, so you can understand my apprehension when it comes to calling someone a "friend"."

"That's alright. I try not to judge, since you never know what someone's been through until they tell you. Unless you're me, and you physically had no way of knowing." I smiled hollowly.

"Well, that curse you're under is pretty feisty, so I don't blame you. It didn't take too kindly to me trying to root around inside your head." Quill sniffed and wrinkled up his nose. "Magical feedback like that can be very disorientating to the unprepared spellcaster.

"Well, I didn't exactly expect it to be painless -- For me at least. Did you learn anything else? Anything at all?" I asked gently.

Quill shrugged. "Only one, except I don't really know how to break it to you..." he trailed off with a frown.

"What is it?"

He sighed. "You are quite the enigma, you know? Never in my life, not in training, not in my brief travels through Equestria, not even as a glimpse through the bakery window have I ever encountered anything or anyone that resembles you beyond the surface level. From the glimpse I had at your emotional root, brief as it was, I saw gaps and holes that had been filled with some kind of... shadowy thing. I have no idea how to even describe it! This.. entity... it was some kind of parasite coiled around your root, eaten away, and even flat out replaced it in some places."

"Wha... what do you mean?" I sputtered as I began to feel a deep sense of existential dread.

"I don't want you to panic about it!" Quill urgently tried to quell my fears, "The thing was mostly inert until I poked the wrong part of your mind. There were very few places I could snake my way in without alerting it. All I could tell about the thing itself is that it can't physically survive without a mind to latch onto. Which you can make of as you will. What I was going to say after that, though, was that while your emotional root resembles the typical root, its individual structure is entirely alien to me."

"Like apples and oranges." I ventured.

"Yes! Exactly like apples and oranges. Both fruits, yes, both grow on trees, yes, both very nutritious, yes. But very different when you look at the fruits themselves! Why are you so good with words? Don't bother answering, you don't have one."

The collective weight of these revelations forced me to take a seat. Not a curse, but a parasite? At least that explained how it reacted to someone sticking their noses in to check on it. It had to be linked to some of the whisperings I'd been hearing. And what's all this about my emotional root? What exactly did it mean?

Those would have to be questions for another time. I had more information, but it didn't really help me any, just added more variables. But, as conventional wisdom said, to know your enemy and to know yourself, is to know the result of a hundred battles. Someone wise who may or may not have existed said that, long ago.

I needed to reframe the whole situation. This wasn't just some random loss of memory, this was deliberate. Somehow, I had gotten a magical parasite inside me, whether I had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, or had been deliberately targeted by it. The thing was inside me, and until I managed to defeat it my memories would still be in its clutches. So far, I'd won a few battles by circumstance, being in the right place at the right time to snatch back what I could from it. But that wasn't enough.

I needed to go on the offensive, to not just snatch back dribs and drabs, but to learn more about what was inside my head.

Once I knew its true nature, it could be safely removed. It sounded like a simple task, but I knew it wouldn't be. A complex plan wouldn't survive contact with the enemy, thusly I needed to be flexible and take advantage of any opportunity that came my way. Starlight's method had been working so far, so I'd stick to that until a better method was discovered. Making friends, making connections, trying to find weaknesses in the parasite's ruthless grip.

But I couldn't in good conscious do that right now. There was something I needed to take care of. Urgently. I just hoped I hadn't wasted too much time questioning Quill.

"I need to find Pinkie Pie."

12 - Searching

When I'd woken up, the sun had been rising. If the calendar was to be trusted, today was an equinox. On a typical equinox, sunrise would be expected around 6:00 am. I'd been under the bridge for 10, maybe 15 minutes before Quill had shown up. Then with Quill, I'd spent a maximum of an hour and a half. That probably put the current time somewhere between 7:40 and 7:45. The Festival of the Two Sisters, as was indicated on Pinkie's pamphlet, lasted for six hours when you included the festivities around it, beginning three hours before sunset and ending three hours past.

Assuming that today's equinox was following the textbook definition, sunset should have been at 6:00 pm, twelve hours after sunset. I couldn't say for certain, considering that magic lurked around every corner. It wasn't too much of a stretch to also assume that there was some sort of invocation or spell that adjusted the time of day. I tried to ignore the cosmic implications.

Thusly with my reasoning, the festival would officially start at 3:00 pm and end at 9:00 pm. I had plenty of time to find Pinkie and make amends, but I wanted to make sure that I did before tonight's festival even began. Why? Hard to say, but it was undeniable.

I would have apologised on principle alone, but there was something else to it. With Pinkie, there was something about how she carried herself, that aura of innocence and whimsy she had. I felt like a grandparent looking at their grandkid when she was around. Just smiles and fun times. I wasn't going to say that she was childish, because that word had the wrong sort of connotation. Somehow, she'd retained a semblance of how a little kid looked at the world; just wanting to have fun, wanting to experience good things. I didn't want to harm that at all.

But the trouble was, she was involved in just about every aspect of today's festival. That would make it difficult to figure out where exactly she could be. There was no doubt that she was thinking about last night, about how she'd scared me so bad that I'd run away, no doubt that it would stick out in her mind as she went about her day. Distract her. Like it was distracting me.

Damn these streets. Normally at this time they'd be less packed, but there were dozens upon dozens of stalls and attractions that had to be setup for the Festival, even discounting the ones that had been done yesterday and the day before. Some ways were blocked, others would be temporarily closed off for some sort of parade.

I'd been wandering around for a while before I saw a familiar pegasus flying just overhead. Ray's bags were full of bread as he was making his deliveries. I needed to get his attention, but how?

I pushed my way through the crowd, trying to trail Ray as best I could.

"Ray!" I called out to him.

He only just barely heard me over the din of the crowd, his ears perking up at his name. He looked over the crowd, wondering who'd called his name. I waved at him.

"Oh, hey dude," he answered as he landed before he gave me a concerned look, "What's up? You feeling alright?"

"Now I am, yeah. Listen, I need to find Pinkie Pie. Do you know where she is?" I pressed.

"No, haven't seen her since last night. What exactly happened there? Where did you go? Everypony was worried, except that author guy. Everything kinda just came out of left field here."

I sighed, "It's not something I want to talk about in public, personal history. Personal issues."

"Oh, I get it. You'll talk about it when you're ready. I won't pry," Ray reassured me, "But I gotta make my deliveries, so I need to get going."

"If you see Penny, could you tell her what I said?" I asked him, not really expecting much.

"Yeah, yeah. I will. Take care of yourself, dude." Ray smiled as he patted me on the shoulder. He turned away and took flight, going back to work.

His words had confirmed my suspicions, even if unintentionally. I needed to find someone else from last night to try and figure out where Pinkie was.

I thought to myself. Who would know Pinkie best, who might Pinkie tell if something wasn't right? I didn't know, but there were three suspects who fit the bill pretty well. Rags, Applejack and Starlight. Starlight would likely be at the school today, overseeing end-of-semester admin work. Applejack was almost always at the farm, doing... farm stuff. But Rags? I had a feeling that he'd be the most likely. As a musician, he'd need to okay his part of the event with the organisers, Pinkie being one of them. He'd be the one to have the most recent contact with Pinkie, and therefore more accurate knowledge of her whereabouts. I made my way towards the east end, to the old town. My first instinct was to check the speakeasy for him, or at least some sort of lead. It was better than wandering aimlessly. To the old town I walked.

The old town was awash in an uncharacteristic display of colour. From the gables hung long streamers, and banners stretched across the streets strung from tall poles. It was a lot more lively than I'd come to expect from the place, to be completely honest. I'd have been impressed with how festive it all looked if I hadn't been here on a mission.

At the door of the speakeasy, that same burly bouncer waited, with his leather jacket, aviators, and lavish magenta mane.

"Ink Blot," he greeted me. He wasn't particularly hostile, yet not particularly welcoming either.

"May I go in?" I asked him.

"Yes you may, since you used proper grammar." he nodded with a smirk.

"Would you still have let me in if I'd said it wrong?" I asked suspiciously.

"Perhaps." the bouncer said cryptically. I left him to his duty.

Just as expected, Rags was not here. What wasn't expected, was how busy the place was. It was probably the busiest I'd seen it so far. I looked around and saw no familiar faces. Well, except for the pegasus behind the bar, who seemed like an irreplaceable fixture of the place. He had a shaggy yellow mane that tumbled down the sides of his head like corn silk. Holding a glass up with his wing, he wiped it clean.

I made my way up to the counter, squeezing in beside a grizzled white unicorn who was muzzle deep in a comically oversized tankard.

"Sunrise Special today only, everything half-off," the bartender said without looking at me.

"Just a glass of water for me, thanks. I'm here for something else." I shook my head.

The bartender sighed, "If you're here because of the ad, forget it. You missed the ticket, some other fella came by and took care of it less than an hour ago."

"No, no, have you seen Rags today? The pianist?"

The bartender frowned, then nodded at me in understanding. "That's why you're familiar. You're the chatty fellow who came in last week. Baby Blue liked you, since you played along."

"Baby Blue? Who's Baby Blue?" I asked.

"Baby Blue's the bloke who sits around outside most days. He's in the business of painting houses, see? Just there's not much house painting these days, so I asked nicely and he watches the door for us. Keeps trouble away from us. And to answer the first question, no I haven't seen ol' Jonesy today. He said somethin' 'bout a gig up top, some fancy shindig in Canterlot. Might catch 'im if you pop by the station before noon." The bartender said, pouring water into the glass he'd been cleaning.

"Thank you." I said, carefully working the claw device to hold the cup. It worked like a charm, and I instantly felt at ease. I'd drink up then get on my way.

But, I couldn't help but eye the unicorn sitting next to me. He had an aura, one that the bouncer outside didn't. It spoke of experience, reminded me of... something. A set of scars rippled across his face. When he set down his overlarge tankard, he noticed me looking at him. Saying nothing, he met my gaze. There was no hesitation behind his eyes.

"There's something different about you." I said after a few moments.

"Aye. Same to you, boy." he grunted. That's when I noticed the glint of metal on a his chest, a row of them in fact, hanging from the lapel he wore. "You see these?" he asked, pointing to them, "These are all I have left."

"Left of what?" I asked hesitantly.

He took his head in his hooves, leaning on the bar. "All I have left from my glory days. Get me a cider and I'll tell you about it. It's not exactly a happy story, so I'll be needing it."

"Not today, I'm afraid." I said.

"Fair enough. I doubt you'd want to hear my war stories anyway."

My ears perked up. "War stories? Which war?"

He laughed. "Ha! Not a war, a series of failures and disappointments more like. Not a war like in the history books. I say war stories because those're the only thing to call them. There's not much to say about "peace stories" anyway."

"What's your name? I don't have the time for it today, but maybe we can talk when I do."

"Name's Pike. Used to be Sergeant Pike, before I got discharged. Served over 15 years in the Royal Guard, ten years of dutiful service and five of incident after incident after incident. And now? A year drunk. Plus three months."

"Good to meet you, then. I'm Ink Blot. Are you here tomorrow or the day after?" I asked

"He's here pretty much every day, opening til closing," the bartender shook his head disapprovingly.

Pike sighed and swirled his cider around his tankard, saying "Thank you for reminding me of my rampant alcoholism, Thatch. I was starting to forget it because of all my traumatic experiences over the past 5 years."

"Just sayin'. Ain't healthy, dude." the bartender shrugged.

"Don't I know it." Pike replied as he downed the last of his tankard.

I thanked the bartender for his help, and drank my glass of water before starting to make my way to the train station.

The train station was quiet for a train station. It wasn't very large or grand; really it was just an elevated platform with a small baggage building beside it. A single bored stationmaster sat in the ticket booth and read the morning newspaper, while two baggage handlers chatted idly at one end of the platform. I looked and looked, but could find no sight of Rags. The large clock that would normally be used to signal train arrivals and departures had been taped over with a sign reading Out of Order.

"Excuse me," I said to the ticketmaster. "Has the train to Canterlot left yet?"

He glanced at me over his newspaper. "The morning train? Yes. Noontide Express? It should be on the way shortly. Need a ticket?"

"No, no, I'm just seeing someone off and wasn't sure when they were leaving." I shook my head.

"You'll have plenty of time before then, though any sane pony would have their stuff at the station ready to go at least half an hour early." the ticketmaster said without looking up.

"Thank you." I replied. The ticketmaster did not respond.

Waiting was exactly what I didn't want to have to do, but this was my best option.

So, I sat down on one of the benches, and started thinking. What was I going to say? What did I want to say? I wanted to apologise, I wanted to explain myself. Though, I had no way of knowing that it would be understood by Pinkie or whoever else I told. I'd simply need to accept that possibility.

I don't know how long it was, but eventually I saw someone coming. Three someones, actually, and two of them were carrying some large boxes of equipment. I knew it was him before I even saw his powdery white mane or red-orange coat.

"Rags!" I called out to him. "I need to ask you something!"

"Oh, there you are, Inks my boy. I was wondering where you'd gotten off to. Ask away!" he called back.

"Do you know where Pinkie is? I need to find her and apologise." I said as he got close.

Rags's expression became quite serious, and he signaled his two roadies to drop the equipment off in the building. He sighed, "Inks. Everypony got a bit shook up because of last night. I expect you have a good reason, but this is the first time in the years that I've known her that Pinkie's signature Party Cannon has had such an effect. What exactly happened? Why did you run away, again?"

"It's related to my past, just like when I was at your concert. But it was... different. Not purely based on emotion. I reacted to the cannon instinctively, but I don't have a solid answer why. I ran away afterward because I was ashamed." I confessed.

"Well, at least it's an answer," Rags smiled joylessly. "Last I saw her, she was headed to a friend's place. Check the Carousel Boutique, even if it isn't open."

I nodded, and was about to head out right away when Rags stopped me in my tracks. He stared into my eyes like he was looking into my heart and soul, and he didn't like what he was seeing.

"Listen, if all you're going to do is hurt her more than you already have, do yourself a favour and pitch yourself off the nearest cliff. It'll be mercy compared to what I'll do. I won't give a damn about your sob story if you're gonna be causing trouble around here. Pinkie's a good kid, and there's a lotta folks less forgiving than me who'd put you in the dirt just for making her cry. So mark my words when I say, watch your step." Rags whispered to me, but his words were as loud as a train whistle to me. They chilled me to the bone.

"I... I will." I barely managed to spit out. Rags must've been satisfied by my reaction, because all his hostility melted away and he gave me a halfhearted smile before turning away.

In the brief time that I'd known him, I hadn't seen that side of him. I doubted that very many people had. I didn't really want to see it again. What mattered was that I knew where to find Pinkie.

The Carousel Boutique was a tall building I'd passed by more than a few times, but never really had interest in. Located on the western edge of town not far from the orchards amongst a group of temporary summer pavilions, it looked and felt like an establishment that thought over-much of itself. The outside was lavishly decorated with frilly overhangs, ornamental pillars, mannequins, all painted and dressed in pastel yellows and blues and pinks and violets. It didn't really look like my kind of place; I valued practicality and versatility in both architecture and dress. I suppose that made it the perfect place to hide from me.

Based on the exterior, I guessed that it was mostly selling fancy dress marketed for mares with the occasional tux or suit for the colts. Though that assumption seemed sort of odd. I mean, what sort of traditional dress was there when 90% of the population ran around with full-body coats of fur or feathers?

But then I remembered that cold weather was an important factor in the development of clothing. When it gets too cold for just your natural fur alone, add layers of fabric or... acquired fur... to make the cold more bearable. And in hot weather, having light and fluffy layers of clothing helped with heat regulation, particularly ones that allowed proper air circulation. Naturally, having the funds to afford clothing that was not made for either of those purposes would develop into clothing being used as a status symbol. The less functional and more showy the clothing was, the higher status you would therefore be.

Of course, I had no idea that any of that was true. Until I had my memories back fully, I was alien to this culture. A barbarian, if you used the original meaning of the term. I may as well have been making everything up on the spot.

All of those thoughts coursed through my head as I approached the building. The sign on the door was written in cursive, saying "Closed, except by appointment".

Undaunted, I knocked on the door, and waited.

I knocked again. Nothing.

So I started knocking again, and didn't stop until I heard a muffled voice from inside.

"Unless you're my 2 o'clock appointment, go away! Can't you read the sign?" the voice said.

"It's urgent!" I shouted.

There was no reply, but I heard a series of almost frustrated hoofsteps from inside the building. The lock clicked, and the door swung open slightly, though the chain was still in place. A small filly, who I recognised as Sweetie Belle from the Cutie Mark Crusaders, peered through the opening.

"Wait, are you-?"

I cut her off before she could say anything else. "I need to speak to Pinkie Pie. Please, I have something she needs to hear," I pleaded.

Sweetie Belle frowned concernedly, and glanced over her shoulder. "How did you-?" she began to say, before she was abruptly pushed aside. by someone else.

"You!" an older white unicorn spat with unparalleled vitriol, as she glared through the opening at me. "You have some nerve coming here after what you did to her! Coming here at her most vulnerable moment, to hurt her even more! I won't let you! Go away and never return!"

"Wait!" I cried. I tried to say more, but the door was slammed shut in my face before I could finish. The deadbolt locked the door shut with a click.

There was the brief sounds of a hushed argument on the other side of the door, probably between the two unicorns.

I took a deep breath and sighed, "I'm here to apologise," I said, hoping that I'd be heard through the door.

The hushed argument stopped as soon as I said it. There was another click, and the door was opened again. "You can apologise just fine from the other side of this door. It had better be good, or you're not coming in." the older white unicorn scowled through the small opening.

"No, no. Let him in," said Pinkie Pie from somewhere inside. Her voice was heavy with sadness, she'd probably been crying.

"Are you sure?" asked the unicorn.

"Yeah. I've got a feeling about him." Pinkie replied. After a few moments, the door was unchained and I was allowed inside. The inside of the boutique was much like what I'd expected, but that wasn't the point of my visit.

The two alabaster unicorns, whom I surmised to be siblings, stood on either side of the doorway. The older one seemed frustrated and angered by my presence, while Sweetie Belle was mostly just seemed confused. Based on my previous interaction with her, she was much wiser than she seemed.

Pinkie herself stood at the bottom of a long spiral staircase, which lead up to what would probably be where the two sisters lived. Her normally quite poofy mane was slightly deflated, and it was almost like her natural colour had drained slightly. "H-hey," she said, trying to smile but failing.

"Hey," I responded.

A tense moment passed before I could work up the courage to rest of the words. It just... felt like whatever I could say wouldn't be enough, even though it should have been. My mind stumbled with it at first, but soon i knew what I wanted to say.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know what was going on, and I reacted poorly. I should have stayed, but I let my emotions get the better of me. Again." I said finally.

It wasn't much, but it was genuine. She could tell. How did I know? She slowly walked over to me, and embraced me. I'd caused her distress, and she was the one hugging me. There was only one thing I could do. One thing I had to do.

I hugged her back.

I don't know how long we sat there, on the showroom floor, and I didn't care. I was comforting her, and she was comforting me. In a bizarre way it made me happy.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know how you were going to react, and I ended up doing something you were uncomfortable with. And then you ran away. I thought you weren't going to come back. I thought you weren't going to get your memory back, because of me." Pinkie whispered into my ear as we continued to embrace eachother.

I don't know which of us let go first, but it didn't matter either way. All we had to do was look in the other's eyes, and we knew that all was forgiven.

"I remembered something, thanks to you. Do you want to talk about it?" I asked softly.

"Yeah," she said with a nod and a slight smile. "Do you mind if we sit upstairs, Rarity?"

I looked over my shoulder at the sisters. Sweetie looked on at the two of us solemnly, moved by our display of emotional maturity. Rarity, the older of the two, who earlier had been filled with barely contained rage now seemed like she was empty. She nodded wordlessly, though I couldn't tell if she was lost in silent reflection or simply unable to process what had transpired. I hoped it was the former.

With her acceptance, Pinkie and I took the stairs up, and entered what looked to be a dining room. It was humble, deceptively so for the decor outside. I sat at the table, and Pinkie sat across from me, though both Sweetie and Rarity came upstairs as well.

"What did you remember?" Pinkie asked, some of her colour coming back.

"Not very much, but what I pieced together from it explained a few things, or at least what happened when I saw your cannon," I said sombrely, "It wasn't a natural reaction, rather one that had been trained into me. I think I was a soldier, before I lost my memory."

"Like one of the Royal Guards?" asked Sweetie Belle.

"Maybe. The important part was that I identified the party cannon as a potentially dangerous weapon and reacted accordingly. The only reason I can think of for having been trained to react like that is being a soldier." I tried to explain my reasoning.

"Wait, did I miss something?" Rarity asked.

"Ink Blot lost his memory because of a curse, now he's trying to get his memories back." Sweetie Belle helpfully informed her.

I grimaced. "It's slightly more complex than that now, but that's the gist of it. Since I have you here, I think I should get the obvious question out of the way. Do any of you know of any wars in recent memory? Any that I could have been involved in over the past few years? Any within recent memory?"

"Well, there was the Storm King..." Sweetie trailed off.

"Darling, that was hardly a war." Rarity shook her head.

"Yes it was! You weren't there! You were off with Twilight, going to Mount Aris." Sweetie countered.

"So was I," Pinkie reminded her. "And Applejack. And Fluttershy. And Rainbow Dash. And Spike, who could forget Spike?"

"Yeah, but you didn't know what it was like trying to fight them. Trying to escape. What it was like getting captured. What it was like knowing that everyone you ever loved was either captured or too far away to help. What it was like losing all hope when you saw that Twilight had finally been captured, too." the filly listed, her eyes growing distant.

"Sweetie Belle, you never said-"

"Nopony ever says! Nopony ever wants to talk about it! Nopony wants to remember the time Equestria was invaded and almost destroyed!" she shouted.

Pinkie smiled wryly, "There's a lot of times that Equestria was invaded and/or almost destroyed. The six of us were involved in almost all of them in one way or another."

"How many times? Can you write them down for me? I want to do some research, figure some things out." I requested.

"Well, at least fourteen times that I can remember. Maybe a few more that I don't. That's what I get for being an Element of Harmony!" Pinkie listed.

"Wait, Element of Harmony? What's that?" I asked.

"Oh, so basically there's these six elements that are all about Friendship. I'm Laughter, Rarity is Generosity, blah blah blah, and Twilight is the sixth element, Magic, which shows up when the other five are all grouped together. When we get together we can shoot rainbows! Solves a lot more problems than you might expect," she explained wistfully, "There's probably a few books about it. Ask Starlight maybe?"

"I will. And Sweetie Belle, consider finding someone who is willing to listen, even if they don't want to talk. There's some things that you shouldn't bottle up and hide away."

"Yeah, I know. It's just hard to talk about it when nopony else is." Sweetie said, looking away.

"Hell, I'll listen, even if I'll have no idea what you're talking about," I smiled, trying to be supportive. "Sometimes near-complete strangers have a different perspective or understanding of things. Wisdom can come from anywhere."

The filly nodded sagely. "That's true." she replied.

A silence came over the room and table, which I took as my cue to leave. "Thank you for listening to me. I admire your maturity."

"Funny thing, when you spread happiness you start to get a feel for all the other emotions too. I just like happiness more, and being responsible makes it easier to get back to having fun," Pinkie smiled, the colour having finally returned to her and her mane being as poofy as it always was.

Rarity said nothing, conflicted on how she should feel. On one hoof she'd been willing to protect her friend from harm, but on the other she had been misguided in her attempt. I reassured her that it was alright as she escorted me back down the stairs, though I don't know if she took it to heart or not.

What I did know, was that a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders by our conversation. I was able to return to the castle hopeful for the future.

13 - Researching

When I returned to the castle, I did not go looking for Starlight. I did not go out to participate in the festivities. I did not go to bed.

Instead, I went into the castle library.

The books from my abandoned magic lesson were still stacked on one of the tables, but I had different plans for my reading material. I needed history books, as many as Starlight had in the library. But right now I didn't want to try and track her down to enlist her help. No, this was going to be an endeavor all my own. And it was going to take awhile.

Without knowing how the books were organised, if at all, I would have to go shelf by shelf. Lacking telekinesis, I would have to use the rolley ladder and pull out each book manually. That was where I encountered my first problem. This task I'd given myself would take longer than I'd first thought. It would take the rest of the evening, maybe even the week, to go through all the shelves and find all of the relevant materials.

So instead of wasting time feeling sorry for myself, I got to work.

I moved carefully, scanning each shelf in succession from top to bottom, looking for anything that might be a history book, anything that might be useful. I picked out dry archaeological textbooks, I took out old scrolls and books whose bindings were wearing away, I pulled out volume after volume of near identical brown books, searching for something, anything that could give me a lead.

I sorted each of them onto the tables, by loose associations they had with eachother. Some of them resembled your typical dry, uninteresting scholarly writings and essays with nondescript binding and uninspired names. A few were the more modern type with flashy covers that had some kind of graphic related to the content inside. The scrolls and even older writings that seemed interesting were carefully placed aside. Then there was a pile of them that I wasn't quite sure about, which had names that seemed more in line with some kind of fiction but to my surprise were accredited publications.

After several hours working at it, I had searched all of the shelves on the first floor of the library, though my eyelids had become heavy with sleep. I didn't intend on stopping any time soon, so I made a brief foray to the kitchen to boil the kettle and make a pot of tea, one with extra caffeine. I also made sure to scrounge some paper from... various sources... to use to chart my findings. It didn't matter what it was, just that I could write on it. When there was a spare moment, I made sure to clean off the chalkboard as well to use it for the big ideas. Tape? I needed tape too, to attach paper to the board.

Determined as I was, no one could stave off the need for sleep forever. My movements grew weak and sluggish, my mind slowed to a crawl, and every single time I blinked I risked my eyes staying closed for too long, and bringing on sleep.

I dreaded it, I ran from it, but it arrived all the same.

A fire crackled softly. Around us, the trees rustled in the wind.

I was lying on the ground, my back towards the flames. The sweet scent of wood smoke filled my nose as I breathed shallowly. It cast a dim red and orange light, but to my eyes it was a beacon shining in darkness. I tried to shut my eyes and sleep, but after a few seconds something made me open them again. I wanted to sleep, but I couldn't.

I blinked, and turned over. The stars were bright tonight. I looked at them as they shone, tiny specks of white on a backdrop of deep, deep blue. Paintings didn't compare. Pictures didn't compare. The view through my helmet camera didn't compare. They all lacked... depth. That was all I could call it, really. Hard to think that thousands upon thousands upon even more thousands of miles away, those were just like our sun. They gave heat, they gave light, and maybe they even gave life.

Somewhere out there, there could be life. Hell, we knew unequivocally that there was, just not the kind we were hoping for. But maybe, somewhere out there, there was life that thought, that breathed, that loved, that hated, that did everything we did. Someone like us. Someone who could be our friend.

And maybe that someone was doing a lot better than we were. Maybe that someone could help us.

I turned over again. Now, I faced the fire, and my comrades. There were five of us here, gathered around, trying to sleep, eating rations, keeping watch, sewing rips, writing letters that would never get mailed. We were traveling. I didn't know where.

It didn't really matter that much. There wasn't much left to travel to.

I sat up, and looked deep into the fire.

"Hey, you can keep sleeping. You're not on watch for another two rotations," someone off to my left said.

"Can't sleep." I said in response. The fire twisted and writhed, like there was something inside of it. I did my best to ignore it, and looked off into the darkness around us.

We'd been traveling for a few days now. We were currently camped in a heavily forested area, down a side road as far as we could go before the darkness had become oppressive. I looked over to our vehicle, over to the heavy calibre gun mounted to the top of it. Seeing that thing made me almost feel safer, because I'd seen what it could do to unarmoured targets. Yes, it would keep us safe; If someone could reach it in time during an emergency.

He laughed nervously, "Don't blame you. I'm still shaken from... well, I think we're all shaken from it, really."

I didn't find it very funny, but gave him a shallow smile anyway. It didn't last very long.

"I wish I'd never left home," I sighed.

"I think everything would still have happened even if you hadn't." he shrugged.

"Well, even if it had... a lot of people would have been happier."

"What do you mean?" he asked with a frown.

"My grandparents. I'd still be with them. I'd be there for them, I'd be able to help them." I shook my head, disappointed with myself. Stupid. I'd been so stupid.

"No, no, come on man! You were just a kid when you left, you couldn't have known what would happen. No one did."

"That's where you and I are different," I muttered, "You joined because you wanted to make a difference for people, I joined because I was running away from being sad."

"Yeah, and look where it got the two of us. Two misguided morons fighting a war on the other side of the world, and for what? Money? Pensions? Free dental care? A pat on the back and a knife in the ribs when we decided it wasn't worth it anymore?"

I couldn't help but smile at that. "Wonder where our pensions are now? Can't imagine we're still getting them."

"Oh, they're right over there with those new uniforms we were promised. Five years ago!" he laughed.

I don't know what exactly it was, but something made me look back up at the stars. I was drawn in by them, trying to look past them. When I looked at those tiny motes of light, arrayed stunningly across the canvas of the night, everything here seemed so small and insignificant.

But then something happened. The stars, they started to move, they started to warp.

A chill went down my spine as a face began to materialise across the night sky. Seeing it frightened me, and I wished that I had something, anything to hide from its gaze. It seemed to piece me, look deep into my soul. An ethereal voice that I'd head before echoed in my mind.

"I SEE YOU!"

My eyes shot open. Where was I? What happened? Another dream... and a voice. What was the voice? Was it the parasite? No, not likely. The parasite would be inside me, looking out. This voice, it came from something outside that looked in.

I was still inside the library, lying on the cold crystal floor where I'd passed out in the middle of trying to read a book. There was a blanket draped over me, though what little heat it helped me retain quickly got leached away by the crystal flooring.

"Good morning," said Starlight from the balcony. She was leaning on the railing, looking out over the landscape. The sun shone down through the large windows, down onto the balcony, down on the tables of books I'd laid out last night.

I said nothing, only getting up and looking around to find where the book I'd been reading had fallen.

"Brushing up on our history, are we?" Starlight questioned.

"Shouldn't you be at work?" I countered.

"Tradition says that the day after the Summer Sun Celebration is one for reflection and rest. Just because it's the Festival of the Two Sisters now doesn't mean that everything's changed. It's also a statutory holiday," she replied effortlessly. "I thought I'd take your advice, seeing as most of my paperwork is done."

"Wasn't there one last Friday?"

"Yeah, funny how this year worked out. That other holiday works off of an older calendar that isn't really relevant anymore, but because it's "traditional" it's still scheduled with the old calendar, which doesn't line up very well with the new one."

While that was an interesting bit of trivia, it didn't help me at all. I turned away from her and tried to pick up where I'd left off. My reading was suddenly interrupted by a hoof, obscuring the page. I looked up at Starlight, who eyed me with a disappointed frown. "What happened?" she asked.

"A lot of things. I already made amends with Pinkie." I dismissed her, turning to a different book.

"She told me as much," Starlight sighed, "I just wanted to hear it from you. Whatever it was that you remembered."

"Not really something I remembered outright. I managed to put together some pieces and filled in the gaps myself. Do you want to know the process, or do you want to know the results?"

"Tell me the process later, what were the results?"

I sat down and rubbed my eyes, vainly trying to wake myself up some more. "I think I was a soldier before my memory got deep-sixed. Oh, and it's not a curse. It's some kind of magical parasite."

"Oh," said Starlight, and she frowned some more as she thought about the implications. "That does explain why I experienced that magical feedback, and somewhat explains what happened the other night. But what's with all the history books?"

"I'm hoping that researching past and present military conflicts would give me any leads about myself. If it was present or even recent history, there'll be some sort of paper trail. If it's past? Well, at least there'll be an old battlefield or archaeological exhibit to visit. Of course that is working off of the twin assumptions that the war was well documented and that I served on behalf of Equestria." I rambled, glad to have somepony to explain it to. Maybe talking it out would help me organise my thoughts and discoveries.

"Well, at least it won't be that hard. Equestria has only been to war... once, maybe twice tops, in living memory." Starlight chuckled.

"Four, actually. The first and second King Sombra incidents, the Changeling Incursions, as well as the Storm King's invasion. Now that number would be accurate if you exclusively defined a war as a large scale military conflict with smaller scale engagements contributing to its conclusion. The thing is, I can't find any references to Equestria having a large scale, united military force! It's all relatively feudal and decentralised, with individual cities and towns tasked with raising and running their own civil defense force, which usually amounts to some sort of citizen's watch in the case of Ponyville, or a more organised policing force in larger cities such as Manehattan. There is no "Modern Equestrian Military"! Every single conflict has been mostly fought by partisans and ad-hoc militias wielding some bizarre magical artifacts! But clearly, I was trained in some sort of formal military because I falsely registered Pinkie's cannon as a threat and responded accordingly!"

Starlight frowned and eyed me skeptically, but I'd only just begun my rant.

"So, that means I have to go back further in time to look at older conflicts! But I know what you're thinking, that doesn't make sense because we're roughly the same age. That assumes we are chronologically consistent, that we were born within the same era and have remained in said era for our natural lives up to this point! And because magic can be unpredictable as stated in the opening paragraphs of the very magic manual you assigned me to read, we cannot therefore assume that there hasn't been some kind of incident where one or more ponies are displaced through time! Even if that were the case, there are two such incidents I can name off the top of my head because they were significant enough for some bastard put in a book. The Crystal Empire in the frozen north, and the so-called Pillars of Equestra. Now without getting into semantics, I know for certain that I wasn't time warped by either of those events."

"You should try talking to the Doctor, he's all about time." Starlight commented when I took a moment to breathe.

"Oh, but I'm not finished! I looked at the Crystal Empire first, because they, you know, had an actual military at one point. Except there's actually a lot of things that don't make sense about me being from there. They existed over 1000 years ago, disappearing and then reappearing within the last decade, up in what is now the frozen north. If I'd been from there, I'd have reappeared at the same time as the rest of them, and, you know? I'd actually be up in the Crystal Empire, not rinky-dink Ponyville! And cannons as used in military applications only start to appear only 500 years ago, mostly in naval applications. The use of explosive powder goes way further back, but why would anypony care about explosive powder when there were unicorns running around who could make explosions with their minds! And you know what the cincher is? Ponies from the Crystal Empire have a unique crystalline appearance, which they retain even after leaving the Crystal Empire. If I'd been from the Crystal Empire in the first place, I'd damn well look the part wouldn't I? And let's not get started on the Pillars of Equestria deal!"

"So what do you even get from all of that? Did you get any sort of answer, AT ALL?" Starlight asked exasperatedly.

"NO!" I cried, "I have the information, but none of it lines up with my experience! I looked at some of the older stuff, but it was so long ago that any of the details are either over-embellished and falsified, or lost to time! The only answer that makes sense with what I've found so far is that I never served in an Equestrian military at all!"

Starlight sputtered in abject confusion, "Wh-wh, WHAT? That makes complete sense! Why didn't you lead with that?"

"Because if I was in some other military, why did I wake up in the middle of a goddamned forest an unfathomable distance away from where I presumably came from? I looked at the world atlas, Starlight, there aren't very many countries with Pony demographics out there! And the ones that do? Very. Far. Away." I concluded, slapping the table for emphasis.

There was a long stretch of silence. "...That's a good point." Starlight said finally.

"Finally! We come to an agreement!"

"I would offer some help, but you seem to have things under... some sort of control, I think. At least learning is self-enriching and not... entirely self-destructive?" Starlight tentatively replied.

"Yeah, I'm not entirely certain that I won't go insane trying to figure this out. Have fun doing, uh, whatever it is you do." I quipped.

I spent most of the day continuing to peruse the vast sums of knowledge within the library. A lot of what I was going through seemed largely irrelevant to my search, probably due to the fact that the Princess before Ms. Sparkle had reigned for a little over a whopping 1000 years on her own, not even counting the decades spent with her younger sister. When my attempts to stay on course failed, I quickly fell down that particular rabbit hole.

From what I'd gathered, this period had seen peace and prosperity at the cost of little societal change. Despite the advent of new technologies, traditional methods and lifestyles survived and in some cases thrived alongside modern, more advanced methods. For example, the Apple Family continued to harvest apples the way they had when Ponyville had been founded, despite the development of machines that could take an entire tree's crop in seconds.

Though, some things felt... odd to me as I read them. I couldn't quite place why. While electricity was widespread and used extensively in homes built within the last two centuries, it was mostly used for appliances like the common toaster. Central heating was usually done with boilers and radiators. Travel was often done by hoof, hoof and cart if you were packing more than what you could carry on your own back. Trains mostly saw use by the wealthy, or when it was a long-distance journey. Carriages were odd, because they only saw use in larger or wealthier cities. Most regions were autonomous, paying tribute to the crown in Canterlot in exchange for some sort of magical protections. It seemed that those protections precluded the need for a sizable standing army, only needing enough personnel to keep things peaceful.

The land itself seemed full of dangerous magical creatures, but they mostly avoided populated areas. Or, perhaps the ponies avoided living near the creatures. Despite that, the majority of Equestria was safe for even an unprepared traveller. The less dangerous creatures welcomed ponykind, even forming symbiotic relationships similar to what Fluttershy had been doing. The pegasi ability to manipulate clouds meant that they could exert their control on the weather, making it rain or snow or thunder at will, blocking out the sun, tornados, hurricanes, the list went on. It seemed that due to this, the ponies collectively performed something called a "Winter Wrap-Up" in the spring, removing the snow, waking creatures from hibernation, and a few other things. It seemed like a waste, considering it was easier to just let the weather and the animals do their things instead of micromanaging them. But of course, I hadn't grown up with the ability to control whether the clouds were out or not, so I probably had a different view of the situation.

Really, ponies seemed to have a much greater amount of control over the world around them than met the eye. All three of the - what had that legend called them, tribes? - had such gifts. Earth Ponies intrinsically understood the properties of plants, and were able to accelerate their growth or even coax them to grow out of season or in unfavourable conditions. Pegasi could fly and manipulate the weather, as already mentioned. And Unicorns, well, could use magic. Allegedly, the rulers of Equestria held power over the sun and moon, which if proven to be true had... untold cosmic implications. Said rulers were traditionally "Alicorns", which had the abilities of all three multiplied together. Even just the surface level applications seemed much more powerful than, say, being able to breathe flames like dragons did, or having talons like griffons did.

And that was without mentioning the other two pony tribes, one of which seemed like an offshoot of pegasi, and another that could burst into flames when angered.

All of this research gave me some surprising insights. If unchecked and unrestrained, these powers could have potentially world shaking consequences. Earth Ponies, turning cities and potential battlefields into jungles overnight. Pegasi, bringing forth typhoons, blizzards, electrical storms. Unicorns, manipulating reality, casting illusions, making explosions with their minds. And then Alicorns, who could force an everlasting day or night, leaving one side of the world in blistering heat while casting the other in darkness.

If I had control over that kind of power, I'd have to do my damnedest to keep it from being used; the world would be irrevocably changed if that power was used with ill intent. If, for example, Equestria went to war, the temptation to use that power to get an edge over the nation's enemies would skyrocket. And of course, assuming it were used, everyone else who had similar powers would be inclined to use theirs as well, or risk intentionally handicapping themselves in the long run.

Why, oh why did that last point sound so familiar?

At least it explained why Equestria hadn't had very many wars in its long history. And if there was war on the horizon, it was quickly nipped in the bud by the Elements of Harmony and the Magic of Friendship, both hopelessly intertwined.

The "Magic of Friendship", seemed to mostly be a philosophical concept, describing how friends could do more together than they could apart, in the end benefiting the friend group as a whole. The Elements of Harmony were therefore a manifestation of that, representing the five core elements that made a friendship last despite the occasional mishaps, with the sixth element emerging when they were all present in sufficient amounts. At one point, there were physical artifacts to go along with these, appearing alternately as jewelry or orbs depending on the artist's interpretation of the legend. When the sixth element emerged, the Elements could be used as a powerful weapon to exert the wielder's will upon the world, projecting a beam of rainbows.

If you ask me, the rainbows part seemed like an artistic embellishment.

But that left me in the same pickle as before. The only place where learning what I did made any practical sense, was in a formal military. Equestria, having spent its history avoiding war, didn't have a formal military. What military it did have was mostly for show, easily trounced in situations that they could have managed to deal with.

Those few military engagements and incidents from before? King Sombra took over the Crystal Empire and invaded almost effortlessly, though he at least had an edge with being able to use mind control. But what about the Changelings? The Changelings subverted the Canterlot Royal Guard without them even putting up a fight, only being defeated on the invasion day by what amounted to chance. And the Storm King? His forces descended upon Canterlot and spread out over the surroundings to pillage and destroy at their leisure. Every time, the magic that protected the citizens of Equestria failed, and the few soldiers it had were unable to put up any sort of meaningful defense aside from standing around and looking pretty. Every time, they relied on using the Elements of Harmony and its wielders to protect the realm and save the day.

Unless...

Unless that was only another illusion. Unless they had a covert force dedicated to protecting the land outside of the public eye, written outside of the history books. I earmarked that idea for later.

What about the other two tribes? One of them, the Kirin, lived far to the southeast, isolated from the greater pony society. But the other was much more mysterious, living at the fringes. I could only find a few solid references to them, the rest were myths and folk tales that said they drank blood. Those references were always tied to the younger princess, the one who had rebelled: Princess Luna, associated with the moon and stars.

Some historical documents suggested that the fifth tribe served her in some capacity, shadowy counterparts to Celestia's Royal Guard. Artistic depictions were few and far between, though at one point I had encountered a Manual of Arms that had been "borrowed" from the Royal Guard Training Program. A lot of it was garbage, drill commands and ceremonies, but a small section of it was dedicated to armour maintenance. The standard armour was gold plated and shiny, with blue plumes, representing the sun and sky above. A footnote compared the current Royal Guard armour to a quote unquote, "archaic Lunar pattern", which by contrast was silver and grey with a darker blue plume. That pattern was said to be over 1000 years old.

It didn't show any diagrams, just a historical set of the armour on a stand, but it provided the link that I was looking for.

At one point, Luna had her own guard, composed of the fifth tribe. When she rebelled, the fifth tribe supported her. As she was defeated and forced into exile, the fifth tribe either withdrew from society or was ostracised for their involvement. A lot of literature seemed to doubt their existence, which was to be expected when their last public presence was over 1000 years ago. I didn't have the data, but I would have put money on the "vampire" sightings increasing in frequency after Princess Luna's return.

At first, I thought it was a little odd that they wouldn't return to the public eye when Luna returned, but then something clicked. It would upset the balance and social order too greatly for the fifth tribe, long thought to be just another legend, to return at the same time as her. Then, with all of the turmoil in the following years, there wouldn't be a convenient time for them to reappear. It would be much easier for them to continue with the status quo. As non-persons, they could be anywhere they were needed, and everywhere the public wasn't looking. I'm not going to say they served Luna in as large a capacity as they had before, but if I were in her position I would definitely have used them in covert operations.

Unfortunately, while this was all very interesting, I likely had no involvement with any of those covert operations. As far as I knew, I was a Unicorn, not a member of the fifth tribe. Though if I was some sort of auxiliary operative it wouldn't be too far out of the realm of possibility-

I frowned. Something was wrong. A long shadow was cast over the library. I looked to the balcony, which reflected the setting sunlight. Or at least it would have, if there hadn't been a figure standing there, wings spread wide. I squinted and tried to see who it was...

"Hey, wanna go flying?"

I blinked. "Gyro? What are you doing on the balcony?"

"I flew. Wanna go flying?" the eager griffon asked.

"What do you mean, go flying?" I asked back.

With one beat of her wings, she hopped into the air and glided over to land on the table where my books and writings were arrayed. "You're drafted, nestling!" she said mockingly, saluting and puffing out her chest feathers. Then, she hopped down and started pushing me towards the balcony. I was too confused to protest.

Gyro, once I was onto the balcony, hopped onto the railing and perched there, her tail flicking around like a cat's. I couldn't tell why, but she was grinning madly.

"What exactly do you want?" I finally said as I leaned on the railing beside her.

"I asked if you wanna go flying," she replied enigmatically. With a roll of her eyes, she leapt from the balcony railing

"Gyro, I can't fly!" I shouted at her

She laughed, and swooped overhead, then looped in lazy circles down to the ground below us.

And that's when I saw it.

Her latest flying machine.

15 - Dreaming

I stared deep into the campfire, the flames slowly burning away at the chunks of wood, turning to coals, and eventually to ash. A powerful metaphor, if I could even find something to compare it to.

Everyone was asleep. Our watchman was on his regular patrol. Soon, when it was bright enough, we'd keep on motoring. Where? East. To the only place I still had family left. The others were going there for different reasons, but until we actually got there it only made sense for the five of us to stick together.

My rifle, clean, unfired, lay across my lap. I held a magazine in my hand, feeling the weight of all those bullets. It had surprised me way back when I'd signed up, how heavy, how deadly such small little things could be. These ones were just a touch smaller than your largest finger.

For some reason, I decided to look up into the sky. At the edges it was beginning to brighten, but the stars were still bright, and the moon was full.

The snapping of a stick in the distance got my attention. In a blur I shouldered and pointed my rifle at its source. My body, a finely oiled machine, waited on edge, using every sense to figure out if there was any danger.

A single red light flickered in the distance. One. One two. One. One two. I lowered my rifle and a familiar face emerged from the darkness.

"Hayes." I greeted her coldly.

"Don't worry. I was just using the... uh... johns."

I nodded, but then I frowned. Something was... different. It was wrong. Hayes wasn't even supposed to be here. It was me, Zimmerman, Knight, Lavalley, and Williams. Five of us. Hayes was one too many.

"We don't have any johns. In fact, you never left the base with us. You stayed." I said, slowly raising my rifle at her.

"Come on, don't-"

I cut her off. "You aren't Hayes. And this isn't real. If it were, I would be able to read what our vehicle says on the side. It should say "Fencibles", but it doesn't. Five minutes ago I looked and it said "Marines". Right now it says "Housing Unit". This is a dream, so drop the fucking act."

"As you wish," Not-Hayes sighed, and the campsite melted away.

It was replaced by a sea of stars. Far away, every direction, those tiny motes of light shone on. I kept my form, holding my hands out in front of me. But I no longer wore my plate carrier, or any part of my uniform. Instead, I was wearing an old and stained grey graphic tee shirt, with black jeans, torn and dirtied. Hayes was no longer there, instead replaced by... some sort of horse?

No... a pony. I remembered now! I'd... woken up in Equestria, just over a week ago. No memories at all. I had not seen this particular pony before, but she had seen me.

She was tall, her coat as dark as the night. Her mane and tail were the stars themselves, flowing mystically around us. Atop her mane was a dark crown, and around her neck was a jewel with the emblem of the moon, which matched the one on her flank. Wings and horn both, had she, as elegant and awe-inspiring as any would ever see.

"Nightmare Moon..." I whispered.

"Once, and regretfully so, but no longer," said she. "I am Luna, Royal Sister of the Night. Retired Princess of Equestria."

"I didn't know princesses could retire," I joked nervously.

"Verilly, it was not mine idea, but mine sister's. One thousand years of peace and protection weighs heavily upon her mind, her failures the heaviest of all. Her conscience does not, however, dissuade me from doing my duty to my little ponies. I stand the long watch through the night, wary of any dangers. Dreams are my domain, and as such, Sleep is as well." Luna explained humourlessly, her voice echoing around me.

"So it's you who I've been seeing in my dreams."

The ruler of the night nodded thoughtfully. This is true, however, quelling your night terrors is not the purpose of my visit. I come as a matter of Equestria's security, and partially to satisfy my own morbid curiosity. At first I could not access your dreams, due to otherworldly interference."

"The parasite..." I said to myself.

"As you are now aware, this was due to no fault of your own, but that of the insidious parasite inside of you. As you fought against its influence, the picture became clearer, and what I saw was... unsettling. You do not come from this Equestria, nor does the parasite. In fact, you do not come from this very plane of existence." Luna continued to explain.

That puzzled me. What exactly did she mean?

"You are an outsider, the likes of which are rarely encountered within Equestria. You were cast adrift from your plane of existence, and came here."

Everything began to waiver and distort. Only Luna remained strong, though she began to flicker.

"There is little time. The parasite awakes, and soon it will begin its attack anew. I know only of one being with the knowledge to remove it, but she will need assistance from your Changeling friend. Seek out Zecora, the zebra shaman in the Everfree. She will be able to guide your healing." Luna said quickly as she began to blink out of existance.

"But wait, how will I find-?"

Cold water splashed onto my face. A rude awakening. A single bright light was being shined in my eyes, forcing me to squint as I tried to take in my surroundings. I couldn't see much, just a cold stone floor below the chair I'd been tied to. My hooves were bound, my claw boots removed. No saddlebags either. It was only me.

Around me, I heard the pacing hoofsteps of a pony. They were deliberate, angry even.

"Well, well, well. You're quite the enigma, do you know that?" came the soft voice of a mare.

I said nothing.

"Alias? Ink Blot. Real name? Unknown. Occupation? Unknown. Family? Unknown. Intentions? Unknown. Status? In custody. We'd hoped to bring you in quietly, but you, ahem, forced our hooves." the voice continued.

"A week ago, you appeared out of nowhere, from the forests, quickly ingratiating yourself with a number of ponies across Ponyville. Including one pony we've been tracking for quite some time. Do you know who that might be?" a second mare's voice asked.

I said nothing

"Alias? Quill. Real name? Kevin. Occupation? Author. As well as suspected Changeling infiltrator. You're going to tell us about him, and then you're going to tell us about you." the second voice continued.

"For every question you answer, you get points. If you get enough points, you get a prize. If we don't like your answer, we'll... encourage you to do better. Do you understand?"

I said nothing.

"Listen, we have a list of names here that belong to ponies in town that you've befriended. It wouldn't be much trouble to bring them in, question them about you. Would you like their names?"

I still said nothing.

"Ragtime Jones. Ginger Hearts. Radiant Star. Pennyfarthing. Applejack. Cinnamon Swirl. Pinkie Pie. Gyro of Griffonstone. Starlight Glimmer. Perhaps one or more of them have already been replaced by other Changelings? Surely you have some sort of loyalty to your own kind."

Damn it.

"If you so much as lay a finger on them, I will rip your heads off." I growled.

"Ah, so we've touched a nerve." said the first voice.

But the second voice was confused by something, "Fingers..?" she trailed off.

"Ignore it, the Changeling's trying to throw you off."

"Maybe we should ask Ocellus-"

"Ocellus? She'd flip, then Thorax would find out, and then there'd be an investigation! We can't risk that, we're onto something here!" the first voice cut her off angrily.

I scoffed. "And if you haven't noticed, I'm not a Changeling. Not even close."

"Oh, you aren't, are you?" the first voice rounded on me, her mane just barely catching the light, giving me a glimpse of pink and blue curls. "Then explain this? You appeared in Ponyville just over a week ago. We check your records. Oh, how conveneient? You have no records. No ID, no birth certificate, no place of residence, no friends, no family. And not just with Ponyville, but nowhere in Equestria has any record of a unicorn individual by the name of Ink Blot, with your physical characteristics. You know what that means, punk? That means you don't exist."

"But I'm right here, aren't I?" I countered. "And assuming I was a Changeling, I sincerely doubt my disguise would have survived getting hit upside the head. Besides, shouldn't you have developed a device that can properly detect Changelings? Why bother interrogating when you could identify them effortlessly?"

"Because we haven't, okay?" the first voice shouted.

I was left in silence for a few minutes while the two voices left the room to discuss something. I took the opportunity to look around, doing my best to figure out what kind of room I was in. The floor was made of stone, but it wasn't quite even. It looked to me like a series of roots had grown underneath and disturbed them. I couldn't quite make up the walls, but that probably didn't matter much. If this was a purpose built room, then they'd have a two-way mirror to observe me at all times. If not, then they would still be keeping an eye on me.

Oddly enough, while I was tied to the chair, the chair wasn't secured to anything. With that, an idea formed in my head.

I began to rock side to side, building up momentum, raising the chair up on its right legs before crashing back to its left legs. After a few seconds of this, I fell on my side to the floor. I wasn't able to move much, but I could wiggle. and so I wiggled slowly in the opposite direction than the voices had left in.

However, it was not long before I heard them return.

"Could you give me a hand here?" I asked before they could say anything.

"What do you mean, hand? Why did you say hand?" asked the second voice.

"Ignore it, he's trying to get inside your head. Don't let him." the first voice chastised.

Nothing was said while they moved closer to me through the darkness of the room. But that was when my crackpot plan paid off. For a moment, one of the mares accidentally stepped into the light, revealing her minty green coat. That was all I needed. I'd seen both of them before, plenty of times they'd been covertly hidden around town, sitting on a bench, blending into a crowd. I didn't know their names, but assuming I got out of here just fine I'd be able to track them down again. And that was an edge I could potentially use.

The two mares lifted me back up, and shoved me back into my original position. A golden glow surrounded me, projected from the unicorn's horn.

"So let's say you aren't a Changeling. Explain all of the holes in your story, then. Where did you come from?" the second voice challenged me.

"I don't know." I simply said.

"What is your real name?"

"I don't know."

"Why are you here?"

"I don't know."

"Who is your family?"

"I don't know."

"Then what in Celestia's name do you know?!?" the voice yelled angrily.

I blinked and sighed. "Only what you do. I woke up in the forest last week, without my memories. I spent a day working for the Apple family, then went to Starlight Glimmer to see if she could do anything about my memories. She couldn't, but proposed that I spend time in Ponyville making friends to try and trigger emotional responses that would help me to bring back my memories. That's what I've been doing."

"The spell indicates truth, but it's not the whole truth." the second voice said as the light above flashed a sickly green.

"The Changeling, explain the Changeling!" the first voice urged me.

"I didn't know he was a Changeling, I just wanted to be his friend. He was apprehensive, but offered to look into my memory problem. When he did, I accidentally forced him into revealing himself. He said he just wants to live his life. He's been living in fear since the wedding invasion failed. In fact, he never went to Canterlot at all that day. He stayed in Ponyville along with his infiltration team, who were later captured and presumable tortured by your organisation." I tried to explain. The light above flashed green again.

"If you aren't involved in this, why did you investigate the town hall? Why were you so wary of your surroundings? Why did you flee along with the Changeling?"

"Because one of the things I learned about myself is that I used to be in the military. And not an Equestrian one, not one with shiny brass buttons. I fought in a war. A real war, where lives were on the line. Where people died. I investigated, I watched, I fled because I identified threats." I muttered, my mouth saying things before my mind had even realised it. The light above flashed green.

"Truth? This doesn't make any sense..." the second voice protested.

"But why? None of what you're saying makes any sense!" the first voice agreed.

"Reality is stranger than fiction." I mused for a moment.

I couldn't help but chuckle at how these two mares, asking the same questions that I had, came to a completely incorrect yet still valid answer. They came to the answer that made sense to them given what they knew of their world and the circumstances around it. Which was the final piece of the puzzle. The dream came back to me, the words of the night sister as fresh inside my head as if she'd just spoken.

I smiled and said, "Because I don't come from this world. I'm an outsider, cast adrift from my home and sent here."

The light above flashed green, and stayed green.

"What..? But how?" the first voice asked in astonishment.

"I'm asking the same question." I tried to shrug, but the bindings were too tight.

Once again, the two voices left the room to convene.

I had a feeling that they were discussing what to do with me, considering I was not a Changeling. I thought briefly about what they could do, but only one option made sense in my mind. I knew they existed, I knew what they did. If left unchecked, I could potentially blow the lid off their whole operation. Somehow my memory problem seemed a little less urgent.

After a long time, I heard the door open, and the two mares re-entered the room.

The first voice sighed. "So, maybe you aren't a Changeling. Maybe we targeted the wrong stallion. That still leaves one question; what do we do with you now?"

Ah, the question I had just asked myself.

"As you can imagine, we had to think long and hard about the answer. We can't exactly have you going and blabbing about us, after all." the second voice continued, "After some discussion, we came to the only logical answer."

I braced myself for their answer, ready for whatever they would visit upon me.

"We're letting you go."

"Wait, what?" I blurted out in shock.

"Lyra, hit the lights." the first voice said.

A series of lights around the room hummed to life, projecting a warm yellow glow. Now I could see all of the rather threadbare room. Along the leftmost wall, a series of cuffs and chains hung from rusted fittings, while a table covered with odd implements sat just out of reach on the opposite wall. Clearly, this room had not seen use for a long time.

The two mares were indeed the same mares who I'd fought in the old basement. One, the earth pony, had pink and blue curls and a cutie mark of three candies wrapped in striped foil. The other, the unicorn, was a minty green that reminded me vaguely of toothpaste, her mane and tail having stripes of white amongst the green. Her cutie mark was a lyre.

"As an apology for unjustly imprisoning and submitting you to interrogation, we will allow you to leave, on our terms and conditions." the earth pony said.

"Those being?" I asked.

"Firstly, you tell nopony of our existence." she began.

"Secondly, you continue your life as if nothing had happened." the unicorn added.

"I'll need some clarification on those before I accept," I frowned.

The earth pony stopped me, raising her hoof dramatically. "That's not all. Thirdly, you must join our organisation. This is not up to negotiation."

Stunned, I said nothing for a moment. I hadn't been expecting that. It seemed like an unnecessary risk, letting a near-complete stranger join your ranks, let alone allow them to continue their life without interference. When I finally worked up my nerve to speak again, I said very little. "Why?" I asked.

"Well, now that you know we exist, we can't let you go. It's our only option. It's also how I joined, funnily enough," the unicorn chuckled, "I'm Agent Heartstrings, Lyra Heartstrings. Call me Lyra"

"I'm Agent Drops. Sweetie Drops. But most ponies know me as Bon Bon, now." the earth pony introduced herself as well.

"Would you untie me, please?" I asked politely.

Lyra moved to do it, but Bon Bon stopped her. "First, you have to explicitly agree to our terms. We have a contract you need to sign and/or hoofprint as certification. Afterwards, it will be put to a cipher and destroyed."

"Why even have a physical contract at all, if it's just going to be destroyed?" I questioned.

"Just sign the damned contract, okay?" Bon Bon snapped. Lyra conjured a contract from somewhere, appearing in front of me in a flash of golden energy. Bon Bon stepped forward and removed a large ring that had been placed on my horn. The golden glow of Lyra's magic faded, and the contract dropped to the ground.

I looked at it as it lay there on the floor. Bon Bon looked at me. Lyra looked at her.

"Well?"

I looked back at them sheepishly. "I can't do anything while I'm tied up here.

"Just use your magic." Lyra frowned.

"I can't. I don't have any."

"What do you mean, you don't have any?" Lyra asked.

"I don't know how to use magic." I admitted.

The light above me flashed green. "That's awkward." Bon Bon said.

Eventually, they let me out of my restraints, and I signed the contract. I couldn't explain why it felt binding, considering that it was now a pile of ash in an old fireplace long forgotten by society, but it did.

It hadn't been much use to me while I was tied up, but everything felt so much clearer to me. whatever Quill had done, it worked. I could think about most things without running into memory problems, though some things still eluded me. Places, names, associations, it was all still clouded. But now? I could remember everything. I just had to try.

"This place used to be an old prison, decades ago. SMILE purchased the rights to it through a shell company, and established it as their base in the Greater Ponyville Region. It connects to the bootlegger tunnels, allowing access to the entire town." Lyra explained as we walked through the old stone hallways, littered with the remnants of old equipment.

"SMILE had numerous branches, dedicated to combating various threats to Equestria. I was part of the Bugbear Task Force, though it was shuttered when the bugbears pushed for peace. I was planted in Ponyville with a secret identity, but eventually I was reactivated to join the Changeling Task Force. That's when Lyra joined, as my new partner." Bon Bon said.

"After Thorax deposed Chrysalis with the help of Trixie Lulamoon, Starlight Glimmer, and Discord, operations slowly ceased. We never got deactivated, because Chrysalis and her supporters were still at large. The Task Force slowly decreased, until it was just a dozen or so agents." Lyra continued. "Thankfully, that included us."

"But..." Bon Bon sighed, "When Princess Twilight took over, she gained access to the organisation's files. All of them. And she didn't like what she found."

Lyra shook her head. "Twilight and I, we were friends when we were kids. I know her pretty well, or at least I like to think I do. she's thorough, very thorough. You give her data, she wants to look through all of it personally. And she's damned good at parsing it all. A lot of the agents in the CTF, well..."

"They weren't gentle in their methods of figuring out who's a Changeling or not. The numerous disappearances while the CTF was active were due to Changelings, right? Not all of them. Some were regular ponies, taken by SMILE, who were never seen again. The interrogations would sometimes get messier than necessary. A lot messier." Bon Bon said gravely.

"When Twilight found out, she closed down all of SMILE to restructure. We got cut loose, mostly because she trusted us when we said we didn't know how bad it really was. The other agents have been MIA ever since. Knowing Twilight, she locked them up somewhere they couldn't hurt anypony." Lyra finished, her voice lowered solemnly.

I nodded in understanding. "So, you started keeping track of potential Changelings in case you were reactivated again."

"Precisely." Bon Bon agreed. "When Chrysalis was finally defeated, her support base withered away. A lot of them were surprisingly open to Thorax's method, but some are still loyal to the fallen Queen. We wanted to be on the lookout for a potential resurgence, so we got back to work. Unofficially, of course."

"I get it. I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I get it." I nodded again.

Lyra stopped in her tracks and stared at me. "You did it again. Why did you use that word?"

"What work?" I asked.

"You said "foot". First you said finger. Then you said hand. Now foot. Why?" Lyra questioned intently.

"Lyra, drop it, not everything is a reference to-"

Lyra cut Bon Bon off. "No, there's something important there. I can feel it."

She was right. Why had I said those words? They didn't mean anything... I think. Come to think of it, most ponies used words like everypony, somepony, anypony. But I used words like everyone, someone, anypony. And usually, I thought of individuals as people, while everyone around me used ponies, or in the case of Gyro she said griffs.

Something didn't add up.

My blood ran cold as I hit a block. I tried to think, but I got bogged down, I got mired in thick, black smog. My mind began to cloud once more, and I could feel it.

It was the parasite. Quill had only injured it, not killed it. Once it recovered it would more than likely kill me. Who knew how long I had left? I needed to work quickly.

"Tell me." I ordered her.

"Well, you see, when I was a foal-"

"Oh, here we go..." Bon Bon sighed.

"- I was deeply invested in the field of Anthropology." Lyra continued, glaring at Bon Bon.

That word, something about it sounded familiar. "What's Anthropology?"

"Anthropology is a theoretical field of study, regarding the traits, evolution, society, of fictional creatures." Bon Bon said.

"Mostly theoretical. There is some cultural evidence that such creatures may have at one time existed, or continue to exist in some unknown capacity." Lyra clarified.

Bon Bon shrugged. "Either way, it was one of the first things Lyra and I bonded over. Personally, I enjoyed it as a thought experiment, understanding and exploring minute details of a fictional world, but Lyra was a little too into it at the time."

"Hey, I was young, fresh out of school, still not quite sure what to do with my life. I like to pretend all that time wasn't wasted with delusions of grandeur."

"These creatures," I began. "What were they like? What were they called?"

"Bipedal, like dragons. Two feet, two legs, two arms, two hands. They had big heads, full of brains, eyes that could see for miles. They didn't have particularly sharp teeth, but they were like ponies and could eat meat as well as plants. They could eat just about anything, really. I don't think they had any claws themselves, but they domesticated a lot of animals to serve under them." Lyra explained, waxing nostalgic.

"Individually, they weren't exceedingly good at anything. They didn't have cutie marks like we do, but working together they could accomplish great things. Ironically, despite Starlight Glimmer disavowing the ideology, it does take a lot of cues from Equalism." Bon Bon continued.

Come on, the name! What was the name?

"You know, there never really was much agreement on what to call them. There were a lot of names, and a lot of name calling in the Anthropologist community." Lyra commented.

"Well, what was the most common one?" I asked roughly.

The two of them thought for a moment.

"Human." Lyra said quietly.

16 - Remembering

Human.

That was it.

It was like a key in my mind, and it unlocked so much more than I could have imagined.

I was human. My family was human. And presumably, everyone I knew before waking up outside Ponyville was human too. What were their names again? I felt like I had seen them in my dreams. Private Pines? He died a few years ago, during an offensive action. Corporal Hayes? When we went AWOL, she had decided to stay behind. I don't remember why.

But why had we gone AWOL? And who was with us? It was Zimmerman, Knight, Lavalley, Williams, and me. Why was I thinking of Hayes, though? I wasn't sure if it had been part of a dream, or part of a memory.

Details were coming through, but a lot of them were still being clouded. I tried to remember physical details: places, things, sensations and most of all, faces. What were fingers like? What were feet like? What was the face of my mother, of my grandpa, of my grandma?

I couldn't remember, and that hurt me infinitely more than any wound could.

But at least now I understood why nothing felt right about me. This wasn't my own body, not the one I'd been born with. Not the one I'd been living in for 22 years. My skin prickled with memories of limbs that seemingly never existed, but I knew that I'd had them at some point. Where had they gone? How had I become a pony?

There were still hundreds of things I still needed to figure out. How had I gotten to Equestria? What had planted the parasite into my mind? How could I go back? But all of that could be put on the back burner. It could wait until I had the parasite dealt with.

Something about the dream was coming back to me, though. It was intruding in my thoughts like a log in a stream.

Seek out Zecora, the shaman in the Everfree.

"Ink Blot, are you alright?" asked Lyra.

I shook my head. "I need to go home. Now."

They let me go without incident, guiding me back to a discrete underground entrance close to the castle. I got my things back, though I didn't have time to put the claw boots back on. I didn't know what I was going to say, or what I was going to do, but those words were starting to echo in my head.

Zecora, Zecora, Zecora. The shaman in the Everfree.

I checked the door, and found it locked. So I knocked. And knocked. And waited.

After a few minutes, the door opened a crack. through it, i could just barely see the purple eyes of one Starlight Glimmer.

"Ink Blot?" she ventured carefully. I nodded, and she breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank Celestia you're here. He's been here all night. He's inconsolable, keeps saying something about how it's "all his fault"."

"Who has?" I asked.

Starlight opened the door and let me inside. I looked at her concernedly as she sighed "This Changeling. He barged into my office at the school, said you were a friend of his. He demanded that I let him into the castle. I did, and he hasn't left."

That had to be Quill. I didn't exactly know any other Changelings. Unless someone was hiding something from me.

"I'll talk to him."

Starlight smiled, but her frustration quickly broke through. She waved for me to follow her, leading me to the library doors. We peeked inside.

It was... quite different in there now. The large windows, despite not having any actual curtains, had been covered with a gooey green substance that blocked most of the midday light While the books I'd left out before had since been returned to the shelves, the tables were nowhere to be seen. Or at least that's what I'd thought, until I saw that they had been used to barricade the balcony doors shut.

In the tables' place, a collection of various furnitures had been piled up in the centre of the library's main floor. I saw a wardrobe, a desk, a bedframe with a mattress, chairs, a filing cabinet, among others. The way they were piled reminded me of that dream, the battle across the sea, when Pines lost his life, when I stepped on that IED. These were the improvised defenses of someone who believed that if they were found, they would be killed without mercy.

A little bit curious, a little bit wary, I stepped inside. Starlight remained at the entryway, watching warily.

From the shadows behind the barricade, a pair of glowing eyes emerged. They opened wide in shock, but soon narrowed into a suspicious glare. I swallowed my instinctual fear a little nervously, but stepped further into the library with growing confidence.

"Stay where you are!" Quill shouted. I complied, steeling myself, neither submissive nor threatening.

Starlight made a move to join me, but I waved her back. "Whatever happens, I can handle it."

"It's not that, it's just-" Starlight protested, but I cut her off.

"I can handle it."

"He hasn't been reformed!" she blurted exasperatedly.

I dismissed her concerns. "Not going to be a problem. But still, if things get to be more than I can handle? Don't hesitate."

She nodded, though I think there was some reluctance to listen to my orders. I didn't mind reluctance, as long as she had a good sense of initiative.

Quill, in his natural Changeling form, slowly crept forth from his mighty fortress. His horn glowed threateningly, but he frowned as he got close to me. Wisps of green energy snaked away from his horn, slowly approaching me. I allowed them to come closer and closer, where eventually one of them touched my bare skin. It lingered for a moment before fading from existence along with the rest of the wisps.

"Hey," I ventured.

I barely had a chance to react before Quill tackled me to the ground. I struggled for a moment before I realised that he wasn't attacking me.

He was hugging me.

"It really is you!" he cried as he embraced me. "I was so worried! I should never have gotten you involved!"

I was touched. Really, I was. I didn't really know what to say to him. But... sometimes words weren't enough.

So I hugged him back.

"I couldn't believe that you were willing to protect me from them. No one, and I mean no one, has ever cared for me that much. Not since..." he trailed off, whispering into my ear.

I smiled briefly. "That's what friends are for." I said as I patted him on the back.

"Yeah, friends," Quill said with a smile of his own, finally letting go of me. "Ironic."

"What's ironic?" I asked curiously.

Quill shook his head, but he couldn't stop smiling. "The one thing I didn't want, yet somehow it's the thing I value most. I've never had a friend of any kind since my clutchmates, well... but wait! How did you escape? The snatchers!"

"They were after me because my story didn't make sense, at least by their standards. I can explain it in more detail later. But first, what's with the stuff on the windows? And why did you come here?" I suggested.

"Oh, uh, sorry about that." Quill replied sheepishly. "After they took you the only thing I could think to do was bunker down and prepare for the inevitable. The castle seemed safe, but it wasn't open so I had to go find the Glitterpony. And there's something else troubling me."

"And that is?"

"I'm not hungry. Changelings are always hungry." he said.

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked confusedly.

Quill went to shake his head, but he second guessed himself and began to talk. "You don't know what it's like, with a nagging hunger that never goes away no matter how much you eat. I could eat enough to make me sick, and I'd still be hungry. To hunger is to be a Changeling! When it's gone? Well, I'm more than a little concerned for my well-being, here!"

"We can figure it out in due time. But first, we need to tell Starlight what's going on. I've also learned something both of you need to hear about."

Quill, despite his poorly-hidden fear, accepted my terms, and hesitantly apologized to Starlight for the mess. After a few moments, something in her head clicked and she smiled to herself. I offered a very brief explanation for what'd happened last night, and suggested that we move our conversation to the kitchen table.

Once we were seated, I began. "As the two of you know, I arrived here just over a week ago without my memories. I've spent the week since trying to get them back, with marginal success. Starlight, you confirmed the initial assessment, but Quill, you uncovered something unsettling. For Starlight's benefit, I'll have you retell your findings."

"Well, uh, after I hung around Ink Blot for a bit, I decided to try my hoof at solving his memory problem. Changelings have an instinctual knowledge of emotions, though during acclimatisation training we get a more in-depth understanding of how they work. Strong emotions are tied directly to making memories, and when reliving memories, ponies also relive those emotions. When we infiltrate, we can get a quick snack from somepony by selectively encouraging them to relive those memories, and the emotions, which we, well, eat." Quill did his best to explain.

"I determined as much through my own studies." Starlight said, unimpressed.

"Ink Blot said as much, presumably after hearing it from you. That's what piqued my interest. So, I took a look at what Changelings call an "emotional root". Our understanding of it is far from complete, but it's the source of your emotions, which colour your thoughts. Only, it's not quite colour, it's a sort of emotion soup thing. That's what we Changelings eat, different emotions having different nutritional values, power values, with Love being the most prized. But do you know what's up with Ink Blot's emotional root?"

"Is it damaged in some way?" Starlight asked.

I looked at her with concern. "You think I'm damaged, or broken?"

Quill shook his head. "Not damaged. Not broken. It's being eaten by some kind of parasite. I've never seen anything like it, only heard about it as some kind of urban legend or folk tale. I did some research, picked up some information, but nothing could be confirmed until I got a second look at the thing. Even then, whatever I tried was going to be a gamble."

"Wait, you were basically winging it?" I said in alarm.

"Confidence is the core of deception, my friend." Quill replied slyly.

"Interesting... this parasite, what was it like? What was it doing?" Starlight asked, bringing out a notepad to write on.

"Imagine a large, vile, black slug, coiled around a crystalline structure. Except, it's not just coiled around it, it's been boring holes in it, eating away, feeding on the energy. And it spews this dark cloudy substance that blocks memories." I described.

"Yes, considering I was going mostly off of rumours and legends, it's surprising how much of it I figured out and understood. Those strong emotions that Changelings feed off of? They happen to injure the creature. So, it secretes a toxin that impedes or even blocks long-term memory, because even trace memories can induce emotional reactions. Just ask Ink Blot. Your efforts impeded its hold, weakened it somewhat. Which is why I took a giant gamble; I artificially simulated an emotional reaction by zapping the parasite with some of my energy reserves."

Starlight frowned, questioning something about what he'd said, but not voicing it.

I nodded. "When you explained it to me, you said that it would temporarily dislodge the creature, but that when it regained its strength it would attack again. How long do I have?"

Quill grimaced and shrugged. "When I first did it, I couldn't tell for sure, but I thought that it might be as long as a week. I'd need a second look at the creature to be sure."

"If I may," Starlight interjected. "I would appreciate a chance to observe this creature, maybe even study it."

"While the parasite doesn't exist on the physical plane as we understand it, I can show you what we Changelings see. i did it for Ink Blot yesterday, but I won't be able to manage more than one of you at a time."

"Then show her." I said.

He obliged, and just as before, tendrils of green magic energy floated out from his horn after he spent a few moments concentrating. They reached out and touched my forehead as well as Starlight's, before completing the triangle by crossign between myself and Starlight. Both of their eyes clouded into a green hue, though Starlight levitated a pen and paper in the air for her to take notes with. He pen moved faster than I'd seen it before, writing tiny letters with incredible speed. It made me think of some kind of fancy printer.

Nothing was said for some time, the two of them probably communicating through some kind of mental connection. When the tendrils that linked us were severed, Quill looked at me gravely. Starlight looked down for a while, a horrified look on her face as she took in what she had seen. She eventually looked up in my direction, her face a mix of fear and confusion.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked.

"I fucked it up, Ink Blot." Quill said sady.

"I've never seen anything like it," Starlight muttered, not quite listening. "And that's what's causing his memory problems? Fascinating. Yet horrific."

"What happened?" I asked again.

"So you know how I thought you'd have a week to get rid of it? Well, between then and now something else has been meddling with your mind. Somepony else. That thing is starting to wake up. And it'll be awake within the next day or two."

I slowly nodded as understanding dawned on me. And with that understanding, something occurred to me.

"I've been having strange dreams," I began.

"Strange? More strange than a normal dream? Dreams can be pretty strange." Starlight asked.

"Well, what's strange about them is how mundane they were. But while I was knocked out last night, something changed. I wasn't... well, alone. Someone else was there. You may already know who."

"Luna." Starlight whispered. "Princess of the Night."

"She spoke to me. She told me something, to seek a shaman in the Everfree. Apparently this shaman would know how to get rid of it for good."

"There's only one shaman out that way, and from what I hear she doesn't really do house calls." Quill said.

"Applejack knows her pretty well. Maybe she can introduce you?" Starlight replied.

There wasn't any reason to waste our time any further. As Quill had confirmed for me, I was now on the clock.

I had Quill come with me to the farm, as I had been instructed, but I also requested that Starlight come with me as well. For whatever reason, she had actually put in for a day off to do personal stuff, which she now chose to use helping me with my problems. I didn't know her half as well as I'd have liked, but I think I would consider her a friend. Or at least a very kindhearted and respectful individual. That's more than what could be said for the calibre of people back home.

With Applejack, it was a simple matter of asking nicely, and answering her questions honestly. She was a little concerned that Quill was a so-called "unreformed" Changeling, but I didn't really know the difference there, and after some assurance from myself and Starlight, she happily tagged along.

"The Everfree Forest. I never built up the courage for me to go into it before." Quill commented as we neared its outskirts.

"What's so special about it?" I asked.

"'S only th' one place in all Equestria that ponies like us don't have a say over." Applejack explained with a chipper twang.

Quill looked like he was ready to cower, his hears folded back like a dog. "During my training, they drilled it into us that we should avoid it at all costs, except to evade pursuit. It's a hostile environment, full of strange magics and creatures that defy the natural order."

"Would that be the natural order of the world, or the allegedly natural order imposed by ponies?" I ask pointedly.

Everyone was silent. "What makes you say "alleged"?" Starlight asked right back.

I shrugged. "Think about it. Every aspect of life here is controlled in some way. The weather? Pegasi can manipulate it as they please. Rain, shine, thunder, twisters, other ecologically devastating weather conditions. The growth of plant life? Influenced and accelerated by Earth Ponies. And let's not talk about what Unicorns can do, with their magic and such."

"Ink Blot, all of those require conscious group effort to achieve. No one pony alone could change the weather on any significant scale." Starlight pointed out.

"But how many would they need to cause an alleged "natural disaster"? Even accidentally? And then of course, there is the matter of the Winter Wrap-Up. Prepared and designated dens, a tight schedule where the animals are awoken, relying on ponies to provide adequate food and foraging. Ask yourself this, do the animals gain any particular benefit to this, or is it just another way to exert control?" I asked further. "And what about the sun and the moon? The rulers of Equestria can move them around at a whim. Think about that, two heavenly bodies that the entire world relies on for growing food, navigation, do I need to list any more details or are you understanding what I'm trying to say?"

"Ink Blot, what in tarnation have you been readin'?" Applejack questioned.

"History. Apparently, there are a lot of things that you ponies have been taking for granted, and a lot of questions you haven't been asked before."

"I think he has a point. Why do you ponies control so much? All we get is some measly transformation magic and emotional manipulation." Quill said.

Neither Applejack nor Starlight seemed to have a good answer to that.

The forest, at first a relative mix of deciduous and coniferous trees like the others in the region, soon gave way to more wiry and devilish trees that I did not recognise. Despite it being the height of summer, many of them had recently lost their leaves. Or maybe they'd died. We passed by a clearing filled with bright blue bulbs, which had a strange allure to them. Applejack carefully picked a path that led us around them.

It was dark, unnaturally dark for this time of day. Above us, a canopy of leaves filtered out a lot of the light, and what little that came through had lost much of its colour and warmth. I regretted not bringing something to help keep myself warm. Nevermind, I had. I reached into my bags and removed a thin woolen blanket, draping it over myself like a cloak, securing it with a large safety pin.

"You've been carrying that the whole time? Isn't it heavy?" Starlight asked.

"I've carried heavier." I replied.

"Did you bring two?" asked Quill, doing his best to look cold.

I shook my head, but took the blanket off and gave it to him. He protested for a moment, but I playfully scolded him. As I was putting the blanket on him, I noticed something a little odd.

"Were your wings always that glittery?" I asked curiously.

"Uhh, maybe?" he said, dodging the question.

Starlight smiled like she knew something we didn't, but said nothing.

"And what was all that green stuff in the library? Did that come outta you?" I asked further.

"Uhh, sorta?" he dodged again.

The questions seemed to be make him uncomfortable, so I was content to leave it there, but Starlight nodded in agreement. "Cocooning behaviour. Occurs in Changelings after accumulating an abundance of emotional energy. From what I've been told, the instinct in unreformed Changelings is to prepare an Outhive where they'll imprison their victims."

"I would never do such a thing!" Quill burst suddenly.

"Don't worry, I got it from a trustworthy source. Thorax told me about it himself, while we were going to the Hive." Starlight tried to reassure him.

"WHAT?!?" Quill shouted in surprise, spooking what I assumed was a bird. "You're the pony who overthrew Chrysalis?"

"Yep. Me and Trixie. Oh, and Discord was there, but conveniently he didn't contribute much except instantly teleporting us to somewhere that was pretty close to the main hive." Starlight admitted.

"I'd always imagined you two to be seven feet tall alicorns." Quill replied.

"Aye, and if they'd been there they'd consume the Changelings with fireballs from their eyes, and blots of lightning from their arses." I smiled.

Quill looked at me blankly. "What?"

"What?" I asked.

"We're here, y'all!" Applejack hollered.

Shaking his head, Quill looked to where Applejack had called from. I did the same.

Well... it wasn't quite a house in the traditional sense. It was an old stout tree that had been hollowed out -- probably one that had been struck by lightning at some point, based on the way the upper branches splayed outward. Or perhaps it had been the stump of a much larger tree, cut down early, and those were new sprouts growing out of the old stump. Either way, various decoctions, infusions, and tinctures hung in bottles from the wide branches. I had no idea what they were for, but usually eccentricities had some purpose. All around were mossy stones, purple leafed-ferns, and odd glowy blue mushrooms. While we were taking it all in, Applejack strode up confidently to the door, and knocked.

She'd barely touched it when it swung open. Before us in the doorway now stood who I might've thought was a pony, if not for her white and grey stripes. She wore golden hoops through her ears, around her neck, and on her left foreleg. A Zebra.

Without warning, Quill backed away and hissed. He reared back fearfully and bared his teeth like a cornered cat. Or maybe a cornered rat. The zebra frowned at him, but turned her attention to Applejack. "Good evening, humble apple farmer. Your visit is not entirely social, I garner?"

"Howdy, Zecora, hope we're not intrudin'." Applejack greeted her politely.

"If I'd known you were taking me to a Zebra, I wouldn't have agreed to help." Quill growled.

The zebra huffed and hung her head. "It is unfortunate to agree with what he spoke, those of Changeling kind rarely get along with Zebra folk."

"Understandable, but I'll be needing both of you. Something about the two of you together can fix my memory once and for all." I apologized.

"Now what is this? A new pony, come to do business?" the zebra asked, stepping out and taking a good look at me. Her mane stood straight up, like a bristly brush.

"Memory troubles, but a little more complex than Starlight or Quill could tackle alone. Applejack's here because she could guide us to you. As well as offer moral support." I tried to explain quickly.

She nodded, and gestured for us to enter the hut. "I'm sure we can unlock the secrets that your memories hide, so come along and step inside."

"What, you think I'm going to trust a Zebra?" Quill balked.

"Yes! What is your problem?" I sighed exasperatedly.

"Zebras and Changelings are ancestral enemies! They have ways to pick out Changelings while we're disguised, and work in otherworldly magic." he hissed, standing his ground as Starlight and Applejack waited awkwardly by the door.

"If she means you harm, she'll need to deal with me. And besides, Luna explicitly told me that you needed to be here." I said.

"Can we really trust her?" he tried to question, but I didn't let him voice any more of them.

I looked him in the eyes and told it to him straight. "You're not trusting her, you're trusting me. Applejack trusts her, Starlight trusts her, and I trust their judgement. If she gives us trouble then it's on me for misplacing my trust. And even discounting that, I'm under the impression that you don't want me to die because you made a bad move and acted before you were truly ready."

The inside of the hut was much like the outside. Strange potions and ingredients were stored everywhere they would fit, though in the dead centre of the room was a bubbling cauldron. We sat down around it, and I did my best to relate my predicament to Zecora, with input from Quill and Starlight on their involvement. When I mentioned how Luna had appeared to me in a dream, her ears perked up, but she still said nothing more until we had related everything relevant.

When we finished, she turned to an open tome of knowledge for a moment, before turning her attention back to me. "So it seems that you are right. I may have a way to defeat this parasite. However, three ingredients you will require, if the beast's destruction is what you desire."

Everyone looked to me for some reason. I looked between them and asked Zecora "What do we need?"

It was deceptively simple. Three things, though not ingredients in the strictest sense, three people, and a location.

Each of the items needed were ones that had been tied to memories in some way through the senses. The first was smell. Applejack volunteered to get fresh baked apple cobbler, as Sugar Belle was going to be making some today. The smell of the cobbler would probably work. The second needed to be sound based. Quill cleverly transformed into the spitting image of Ginger Hearts, complete with singing voice.

The last one was difficult, though. It had to be sight based. It had to be an actual, physical item that sparked a memory. Except... there wasn't anything that would suffice. At least not that I knew of. Zecora did not seem concerned, only said some nonsense about "All you must do is return to where you began. Once there, everything will proceed according to plan."

Well, at least that part of it was obvious.

Applejack escorted us out of the Everfree, and I retraced my steps from the Apple family farm to the clearing where I'd woken up. It hadn't really changed in the last week, not that it really would have. Once we arrived, Zecora paced around, drawing lines and circles in the dirt. She spread some coloured stones around, then indicated where everyone would stand.

"It was no coincidence you awoke here," Zecora said as she prepared her ritual. "I sensed the thinning as I drew near."

"Thinning?" I asked.

"Our is but one of many, like blankets layered. On a blanket above, a tragedy transpired." she explained mystically.

Starlight nodded in understanding. "I think I know what she means. I, well, I think I told you about how I went back in time? Basically, every change I made there made a branching path parallel to our own, following different chains of events and how they'd transpire. If I'm understanding it right, you came from a branch like that."

"A consequence of your doing, is not he. Far greater forces, working they must be. Remind us, Ink Blot, of the most important part of yourself that you have forgot."

I sighed. "It couldn't exactly be easy, could it? I need more information before I can say for certain."

"What I ask you to relate, is from where upon you originate." she elaborated.

"Not Equestria, that's for sure. Maybe not anywhere in this reality at all. I suppose you're trying to get me to remember a name? The name of a place?"

She nodded, but stopped herself as she considered. "Perhaps you should describe how it appeared to your eyes?"

I half-smiled, but slowly started to ramble. "Of course. Names are fuzzy for me right now, especially placenames. I can remember the names of some people. Squadmates, comrades in arms. There's a few who stand out, probably because they were the ones closest to me before I came here."

"What about your family? You can remember a bit about your family, can't you?" Starlight prompted. Mentally, I noted that Quill, Starlight, and Zecora had taken their places.

"Yes. My dad worked IT for some big company, but lost his job when his illness got worse. It was some kind of cancer, like he'd fought with since he was a kid. His name was Aidan-Brian, because his parents couldn't agree on what to name him, so they named him both. His friends called him A.B., like the blood type. The cancer killed him when I was only 15." I barely managed to spit out the last part as my voice started to crack. A throbbing pain that came from inside my chest started to build up, the all too familiar sting of loss.

Fighting off tears, I breathed deeply. In for four counts, then out for four counts. Then again, and again, until I had calmed enough to continue.

"I can still remember the last thing he told me. He told me "Kid, don't ever go down without a fight. I've been fighting this shit my entire life, and if I hadn't been fighting as hard as I did, I never woulda made it half as far as I have. Make me proud, son.". After that, my mom wasn't able to keep us afloat and asked her parents to take us in. My dad's parents were long gone, but even when they were alive they'd been distant to us. Maybe I'd get a card with a little cash on my birthday, on a good year."

"So you lived in the city?" Starlight asked.

The cynical part of me noted that she was putting on that sort of counselor face and attitude. She was asking questions to clarify and coax out new answers, but not to pry rudely. Zecora motioned for the three of them to sit down as I heard Applejack returning. She said nothing, bringing a take-away container with her. Inside was a slice of Sugar Belle's apple cobbler.

I breathed deeply once more, taking in the scent of spiced apples. Thinking was a lot easier. Everything was starting to get clearer, too. It may have been my imagination, but I could have sworn that there was something radiating from the circles and lines that Zecora had drawn.

"We lived in the suburbs. After dad was gone, mom couldn't keep up the mortgage on the house, so the bank foreclosed on it. Grandma and grandpa lived outside the city limits, far enough out that they had a big property but close enough that they weren't a long drive from the essentials. I liked it out there, all the trees and greenery made me feel happy; The area around Ponyville reminds me of their area, come to think of it." I smiled, almost able to see the poplars and the evergreens waving in the summer breeze around their house.

"We lived there for two years... until mom got hit by a car. The parameds said that she died almost instantly, but we didn't have much of a court case and the bastard who'd hit her got off with a light fine. I was 18 then, old enough to enlist."

"You joined the Guard?" Starlight asked.

"In a way. The local Army unit was called the Keleseth Guard, after the old name for the region. They were being deployed overseas, to fight in some stupid war we never had any part in. Do you know why I decided to sign up? On their wall they had an old grey photograph of my great-great uncle in uniform. In the frame beside him they kept a medal he'd earned in the war. The big one, from before grandpa was born. It was a World War. Apparently he'd been a hero, gave his life to save his buddies. In my mind I was going to go away and do the same thing, now that my parents were gone. I wish I hadn't. A lot of things happened over there that I'm not proud to have been tangled up in."

Starlight frowned as she thought. "I don't recall there being anywhere called Keleseth, or any World Wars. Or any kind of war, for that matter."

"What about the Changeling war?" Quill asked pointedly.

"It wasn't really a war. Everything went on like normal fer us, mostly. There was only really th' Wedding and th' time you helped Thorax out." Applejack interjected, "An' it's a good thing you did, considerin' th' rest of us got captured. No offense, Quill."

"None taken, for now." Quill muttered.

"I already know all of that, because as Starlight knows, I did a bit of research. Where I came from, even though it's similar to Equestria superficially, is very different. Especially after..." I trailed off as the memory of what had happened began to return. It was not a good memory. It spoke of tragedy, though somehow it yet remained hidden from me.

Zecora pointed to Quill, who took the form of Ginger Hearts, and began to softly sing Ae Fond Kiss. He wasn't entirely sure of how it went, but it pulled at my heartstrings all the same. In my head I followed along, adding in the little variations that my grandpa had liked to add. I looked around, and the haze that rose up from the drawn lines seemed to solidify. Quill and Starlight began to glow with their respective magic colours, like they were trying to cast something, but nothing happened to Zecora.

Zecora began to chant in some unknown language, spinning a mystical thread from their magical glow in the air above her. It took on the form of a blanket, which descended on me, wrapping itself around me like I was snuggled up by the fireplace of my grandpa's cottage, waiting for dinner to be served on a cold winter night. If I closed my eyes I was right back there again. The stone mantelpiece, an ancient sword hanging on the wall above it. My great-great uncle's photo and medal. The coffee table with a little bowl of strawberry sweets. A bookshelf full of adventures waiting to happen. It was home. And I was happy to be back there.

"With the aid of the two who bring his mind to good health, the third and final key shall now reveal itself!" Zecora said, her eyes now glowing white.

From the dirt just outside of our circle, something else started glowing. It was a single beam of light shining upward, just barely to the top of the canopy. As I watched, a small disc rose from the floor of the clearing, shaking off bits of dust and soil that had settled overtop of it. The disc a hole punched in it, close to the rim, with a little chain threaded through it. A perforated line crossed the middle of the disc, dividing it into It was... some kind of necklace?

No, not a necklace. That disc was a form of identity supplement. They called it an "ID Disc", because that's what they were. The same dry, clinical language with which the military named everything. I held out my hoof, and the discs landed on it, with the engraved lettering clearly visible on both sides of the perforation. When a soldier was killed, the disc would get snapped in two. The top half of the disc would stay with the soldier, while the bottom would go with their paperwork. It read:

C-43714192
I. A. KNIGHT
HMR A/RH/POS
UFS ARMY

My heart caught in my throat as I recognised the name on the tag: Isaiah Alexander Knight. This tag belonged to my best friend.

And he was dead.

I shuddered as the magics around me lifted me from the ground, my consciousness slowly fading away. I felt nothing when my body crumpled to the ground, slowly closing my eyes as the field of magic suddenly collapsed, and somepony rushed to my side.

The last thing I saw was Quill leaning over me with a panicked look in his eyes. He said something, but I was already too far in to hear him.

17 - Remembered

Author's Note

Content warning WRT violence, firearms, references to torture, demonic rituals, and death.

You have been warned.

17 - Remembered

"Hey, dude? You listening?"

I jerked my head up. Somehow I'd fallen asleep. I looked around, and breathed a sigh of relief. We were in our stolen Ranger model transport vehicle, driving through the night. The headlights pierced the darkness, illuminating fat drops of rain ahead of us. To my left was Knight, a map spread over his lap, shining a dull flashlight on it. I recognised it as the one he'd stolen from the CO's quarters, when we'd left.

"Sorry, I nodded off." I apologised as I rubbed my eyes.

Knight smiled, but there wasn't any joy behind it. "Well, when you're absent without leave in a stolen military vehicle, driving west day after day, things get a little dull, don't they?"

In other circumstances, I might have found that humourous. But right now, after all the things that had been going on, I was tired in more ways than one. All I wanted was to stop and rest, but we couldn't risk that right now.

About a week ago, Zimmerman had heard something while he was on ration duty in the Green Zone. Two officers speaking in an urgent, hushed tone, about the new directives from the Ministry of Military Command. Or rather, the only directive the Keleseth Guard had received since the Day of Reckoning. That's what everyone called the day, six months ago, when the world had been bathed in radioactive fire. Maintain Order by any means necessary, was the last thing they'd heard from Command before it was vapourised in a nuclear detonation.

Before the DoR, the Keleseth Guard had been entangled by intense fighting overseas, in Kirma. Only within the last year had they been cycled away from the front, sent back to the mainland for a year to recover strength. I'd been promised that once I was back home, I could get my release papers and finally get on with my life, instead of continuing to suffer for a rash decision I'd made four years ago.

But then the DoR happened. The Keleseth Guard deployed to the eastern city of Dormus to keep the peace, to quell the inevitable food riots, to "Maintain Order". And freedom was snatched away from me once again, for me to be consigned to the endless piles of dead men and women from the Union's incessant wars.

"Pretty much every major city got fucked; one bomb each for the downtown cores, government buildings, major military installations. Minor cities like Dormus got spared, but as we saw back there, refugees from the big cities would flock there." Knight explained to me, but I wasn't listening that closely.

The guy in the front seat, Lavalley, casually looked back to us and said "That's exactly why I suggested getting close to one of the big cities, the brass won't be able to come after us there."

"But that's stupid, we'd get exposed to radiation and mutate into horrible creatures," Williams, our driver, muttered.

"Radiation doesn't work like that." said Zimmerman, who manned the turret between myself and Knight. "It'll give you cancer, then you'll die slowly and painfully as your tumours grow out of control, and your tissues eventually die off and peel away."

"But eyeballs in your bellybutton would be a bit more interesting, eh?" Lavalley chuckled, adjusting the empty lens frames he wore. He said they made him look cooler.

"Man, if it got that bad for anyone I'd put them out of their misery." Zimmerman sighed.

I motioned for Knight to pass me the map. He obliged, lending me the flashlight. The map covered the whole Union, from Serglan in the west to Cilvitt in the east. I looked over it until I found my hometown, a city that straddled the Keleseth River: Ostenbury. A red circle had been drawn around it, as well as some rough lines leading away from it. They followed the curvature of the land, illustrating how the radioactive fallout would have settled over the heartlands. Almost the entire region would be affected in some way.

Except for the Hills of Lorne, as they were called. Lorne was a slightly higher elevation than its surroundigns, remnants from old tectonic activity. The rocky terrain offered no suitable land to build on, and it lacked accessible deposits of minerals. The only thing worthwhile there was forestry, though even that was more easily sourced elsewhere. Deep beneath it was an aquifer, though it was considerably deeper than the main regional aquifer. But why exactly did it matter? To me, specifically.

Because my grandparents lived there. The Hills of Lorne were a few hours drive away from Ostenbury, the city limits ending just before the terrain started to get rocky. A small town called Billsborough was the closest landmark to their property, though the actual access was still a ways away. That's where we were headed, to get away from all the madness out east. Only, we were currently several hundred kilometres in the wrong direction. Funny, that.

We finally stopped for the night after a few hours of driving, when Williams couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. The rest of us could drive just as well as he could, but the Ranger was his baby. Just like how Zimmerman lovingly cared for his .50 cal MG, Williams doted on the Ranger. The two of them had been driver and gunner since before the unit had gone to Kirma, thick as thieves. Knight and I were like that. Same squad, same training platoon, even went to the same high school, but we weren't quite friends back then.

In the morning, Lavalley had the chem burner going to heat up our rations. It was one of those things that generated heat through a chemical reaction, without giving off a visible flame. Still showed up on IR, and we still called it a "burner", but it was better than eating the rations cold.

"Hey, Arch, fancy a bite?" Lavalley asked me while I was cleaning my rifle.

"What's on?" I asked back.

Lavalley shrugged and inspected up the plastic wrapper from the ration pack. "Uh, what do you want?"

I smirked and answered "Crab Rangoon, with cheese biscuits."

"Fresh outta that! We got Fish Cakes, that good enough?" Lavalley laughed.

"Fuck." I cursed comically, but nodded in acceptance.

He brought over the warmed and vacuum sealed pack of Fish Cakes, inserted into a cardboard sleeve for easy handling. I accepted it graciously, took out my trusty soldier's spork, and tore open the food bag. The stuff inside wasn't appealing, and may not have been real fish, but it was designed to last long. Better than eating roots and berries.

Still woulda killed for a good pizza. Hell, back in Kirma, I nearly did.

After our rest was over, we were right back to driving. Knight had this little brick of a music player that he'd carried everywhere in his service. Tiny thing didn't have much storage space, but it was pretty damned robust. Sometimes he plugged it into the Ranger, played a song for us. It wasn't quite my kinda thing, but he liked it, so we tolerated it. Right now he was playing some old Blues number, with a quartet of mournful singers going on about lost love. Somehow I couldn't help but imagine they were actually singing about our destroyed world.

So we drove, and we drove, and we drove. Williams kept a close eye on the fuel gauge. Always did. A few stations we'd passed had enough for us to limp on to the next station, but we'd noticed a funny thing with the gas stations. They attracted people. And people were trouble. One station might have a small colony of people around it, trading with travelers, but stay too long and you'd discover the hard way that they ate human flesh on the weekends. Compared to that place, I almost welcomed the ones that would just shoot on sight.

Through the nights, we had a system in place. Standard watch rotation, with the five of us we divided the night into segments of about 2 hours. Right now, night only lasted 7 hours, so four of us would do the watch while the last rested the whole night through. The person with the final watch was in charge of food prep, in exchange for being responsible for fewer night hours. If you were resting, then the next night you'd take the first watch. It was as fair as it could be made.

After all, it was Knight's idea. Chivalrous bugger.

Whenever we stopped to camp, any extra time we had would be devoted to maintenance. The Ranger, the .50, our own rifles, looking over the fittings for our tent. Zimmerman had a standing offer where he'd do any sewing we needed in exchange for us doing over his rifle. He was a whizz at it, not to mention he much preferred the .50 to any other weapon the Army had on offer.

But... even as Williams was preparing this evening's campfire, I was restless. My weapon was clean like new, cleaner than it had probably ever been since the poor bastard before me had his grubby paws on it. I didn't have any reason to do more to it, but I wiped down the insides out of habit, searching the bolt assembly for cracking or denting, feeling for corrosion in the chamber, peering down the detached barrel to spot any specs of dirt.

Eventually, I found myself doing what I always did. Sitting on the ground, back to something sturdy, rifle across my lap, watching. Right now, the sturdiest thing around was the front tire of the Ranger. It wasn't an active task, but it required your full attention, seeing all and trying to understand all.

"So, back to it, eh?"

I knew right away who it was. I got halfway to a smile before my frustrations took over. Knight, steadfast companion as always, was sitting on the hood of the Ranger just to my back right. I nodded with a sigh.

"It's all so bleak, isn't it?" I muttered.

"Maybe," Knight replied. "We don't know for sure yet."

Williams, the fire now going strong, turned to look at Knight and said "Get off the bonnet, I gotta look at the engine."

"You always look at the engine." Lavalley pointed out as he puffed on a cigarette. He was lounging near the fire.

"Key words, preventative maintenance. Archer gets it, don't you Arch?"

I nodded. "Gear in good repair, is gear in good order." I said, quoting the old sergeant.

Knight obliged Williams, hopping off to lean against the Ranger beside me. Willie, dedicated as ever, popped the hood to peek at the innards. "She's gotta get us all the way to Billsborough, and she won't if the cylinders get blown out. I don't fancy having to hoof all our crap, so don't sass me on this."

"You really think we'll get that far?" Lavalley asked.

"We gotta. The Guard might come looking if we're too close to Dormus." Zimmerman said. He would be on watch soon, so he was currently heating up a cup of that horrible coffee substitute they issued with the patrol rations. Somehow he was the only one of us who could stomach it.

"But what if we don't?" I asked quietly.

Everyone went silent, even Williams who paused his engine check. Knight broke the silence after an unusually tense moment. "Then we won't. No use thinking about that, though. Eyes on the prize, remember?"

"No matter how you cut it, things are going to be hard. Civilisation has crumbled, what's left of the military is enforcing martial law, the environment is breaking down, and to top it all off, we're deserting. We get caught, it's gonna be the firing line for us." Williams said, in his usual blunt way.

"But it's also looking up. Lorne might not be too bad, once we get there. We've been running into fewer bandits as we go west, and into more helpful sorts. Most folks are just tryin'a get by out here, so if we help them out they might help us out." Zimmerman responded.

I sighed. "Even so, who's to say we weren't better off in Dormus, with the unit?"

"The CO was looking to make that place a dictatorship, with him at the top. He was a gloryhound even before the war in Kirma, and I doubt the end of the world will make him change his ways."

"Allegedly," Lavalley tried to point out.

Zimmerman crossed his arms. "I know what I heard. We made the only right move."

Knight looked over at me with a concerned frown. "What's with all the defeatist talk these days, Liam? It's not like you."

I knew what he was talking about. It was a side-effect of me trying to hide my emotions from myself. When I did that, I started to get pessimistic. It wasn't right to curse them because I wasn't taking care of myself. It seemed so easy, but did I have the courage to do it?

I shrugged. "It's complicated. I understand everything you're saying, but none of it feels right, you know? Everything's gone to shit, we're on our last legs, and we never know what's coming up on the horizon. It feels like nothing's gonna get better, not for a long time. All the stuff we used to know, I used to know, is broken on the floor."

There were some understanding nods from the others. Knight looked up at the sky, thinking.

"I suppose so. But, they say that for every door closed by fate, another one is opened by opportunity." Knight smiled. He pointed to the sky, and I saw that the cloud cover had lifted, showing a blanket of glittering stars.

As a kid, I'd always been fascinated by the stars. I wanted to know everything about them, they enchanted me so thoroughly. I dreamed that someday I might get up there and see them myself. Of course, that dream wasn't going to come true. Not anymore.

But, even the depths of my personal repression couldn't stop me from cracking a small smile at seeing them again. I felt like a kid again.

Just then, Zimmerman took off his rucksack and rustled around inside it. a moment later he threw something into my lap. I grabbed it instinctively, and feeling the foil that wrapped it, I looked closer, puzzled.

It was a chocolate bar. Prince's, it was called. Luxury chocolate, one of the only good things they ever put in our rations. Only one of every 100 or so got one.

"Where'd you get this?" I asked, astonished. "The ration packs were picked clean, there weren't any left!"

Zimmerman pursed his lips and shrugged dismissively. "May or may not have knicked it from the CO's tent. Among other things."

"You little devil, that's a shooting charge!" Lavalley laughed.

"Can't shoot him twice!" Williams added, laughing as well.

"I can keep this?" I asked Zimmerman.

He nodded with a small smile. Looking between everyone, I eagerly broke open the foil, revealing the smooth chocolate inside. Prince's had little malt balls and air pockets dotted inside it, making for a unique experience. Soldiers universally loved it. I would have happily eaten the whole thing, but I stopped. That just wouldn't be fair.

So instead, I broke the bar into 5 pieces. Each one was only an inch long, but I offered them to the others. They accepted graciously, and together we shared the sweet moment.

If only it wasn't our last.

Rain. It was inescapable. It came down like a monsoon, lightning striking like the wrath of the gods in the distance.

The wipers were working overtime, and we could barely hear anything in the car over the sound of rain hitting the roof. Zimmerman had retreated from his usual post on the MG, and was sitting on the floor of the Ranger, below the closed turret hatch.

Somehow we'd gotten onto some god forsaken side road, unpaved, and full of potholes. I tried in vain to look out of the windows, but there wasn't much to see in the darkness except countryside lit by infrequent flashes.

"You said this was a shortcut?" Williams asked loudly.

"I may have read the map wrong!" Knight said, straining to be heard over the torrent outside.

Without warning, Williams swerved the Ranger to the side. The Ranger shuddered to a stop with a sickening thud as something hit the front right wheel-well. Lavalley was almost thrown from his seat, and Knight glanced at me worriedly. Williams threw open his door and almost leapt outside, rushing to see the extend of the damage. The rest of us quickly put our rain covers on, piled out to see if we could help.

Williams was just standing there, looking down at the front tire. "Shit." Knight muttered. Zimmerman took one look at it, and went back into the Ranger to fetch the toolbox and our spare. Lavalley, however, knelt down in the mud to touch something.

When I saw it, my blood ran cold. At first I'd thought it was a large pothole that buggered up the tire, but this was no pothole. It was a spike mat, the kind used by cops to block roadways in car chases.

"Two and a half inch spikes, right into the tire. Thing's gone flat, and the mat's all jammed up on the axle. " Lavalley reported. Williams just continued to stand there and stare.

I knelt down beside Lavalley, inspecting it for myself. The spikes were common wood-working nails, hammered through a rubber strip that was about half a foot wide at intervals of 1 square inch, though it was long enough that both tires of a vehicle would easily be punctured.

"Good thing you managed to swerve," I said to Williams. "We'd have lost both front tires otherwise."

Knight, however, had moved away from the Ranger, casting about in the darkness for something. "That thing was laid intentionally." he reported after inspecting the area.

"We're in hostile territory, then." I sighed.

"I've got eyes on a collection of lights roughly north of us. Looks like it could be a village." Knight added.

"Try and figure out where we are. We might have to chance going there." I ordered, taking charge of the situation. Knight nodded, and immediately got to work.

Zimmerman plopped down the toolbox beside the punctured wheel, and Lavalley instantly started work of loosening the nuts. Zimmerman stuck the car jack in, getting it off the ground.

I looked at Williams, who had now sunk to the ground, rain streaking down his face. Some of it might have been tears. We all knew how much the Ranger meant to him, how much responsibility rested on his shoulders. Without it, our chances of getting to Lorne were dramatically lowered. I grimaced, and established a perimetre. If we were in hostile territory, it was possible that there were assailants waiting for us just out of sight. I took my rifle from its sling, and shouldered it with much more purpose than I had in the last month. Right now, I was responsible for protecting them. I would not fail.

It wasn't long before Knight approached me, rifle over his back and map in hand. "We're just south of Arlus. It's small, barely a thousand people in the area."

Arlus. It was within a few days drive of Ostenbury, where an ancient monolith bridged the massive Keleseth River. Its construction and original purpose were forgotten by time, though in modern times it had been converted into a bridge. But, Ostenbury was smoking ash and rubble now, so we'd have to go north of it to find a minor crossing.

What mattered was we were close to Lorne now. It was within our grasp. All we had to do was navigate the radioactive mess that was now the Heartland.

I nodded at Knight in acknowledgement, then temporarily turned over the watch to him. I went back to the other three.

"Knight says we're near Arlus. We're getting close to our destination." I said to them.

Williams suddenly looked up, a spark of hope in his eyes. He wiped some of the rain from his face, and smiled. All he had to do was keep us going. I nodded to the Ranger, and Williams nodded his assent. He got up, and started back at work with the other two. Zimmerman exchanged a few words with him, then stood up and took over the watch from Knight.

A few tense minutes passed as Lavalley and Williams worked at it, but eventually Williams came up to me.

"It's gonna either take a proper shop, or a miracle to fix this." he said quietly. I almost didn't hear him.

"Keep trying." I urged him.

He shook his head, but weighed our options. "How far's the nearest village?"

"Knight spotted their lights, just north of us."

"That's our best bet, even if we're chancing a confrontation. They'll have help for us at best, or something we can liberate at worst." he said.

"So we're back to pillaging villages now?" Lavalley asked humourously.

"Can it, Lavs." I snapped. Now was not the time for smart-ass comments, even if they were accurate smart-ass comments. "Only if fired upon."

"Next thing you'll make a Soldier's card for us." Lavalley muttered, but I ignored him. Annoying as it could be, it was his way of dealing with a stressful situation, and it was far healthier than mine.

I racked my brain for a solution, but only one presented itself. I waved Knight over, and everyone quickly gathered round for a good-old "heart to heart" as they called it.

"Knight and I will scout the village, while the three of you keep trying to repair the Ranger. If you manage it, approach the village but do not enter. If you hear trouble, drop everything and assist." I instructed them. A round of nods answered me, and we split up.

Trudging carefully through the muddy plains, rifles ready, Knight and I left the Ranger behind.

Wordlessly, we picked our path across the sodden ground. We lit up our flashlights, the only way for us to see anything in this bloody downpour. Only trouble was that they were a massive bloody beacon for someone looking our way.

Seemed like we were walking through a farmer's field, recently tilled. That was promising, at least. A tilled field meant that someone had the care and knowledge to grow food. But that also meant that the tilled soil was easily churned into mud, threatening to mire us if we didn't step carefully. There was very little tree cover, what little there was were tiny copses of trees clustered around a small hill or mound that seemed like little islands in a wet, brown sea.

Eventually, we reached a little road that served as the field's access, dividing it into two parts. The way was easier on that packed dirt, so we made sure to stick to it as best we could. The worst part about our predicament? How god damned slow it was. At a steady pace we could have made it to the village within maybe 15 minutes, but the rain and mud made it three times that. But still, we trudged on.

The village, from what I could tell, was old. There were lots like that in the Heartland, dating back to the bevy of medieval city states and kingdoms that had risen there. Stone buildings and farmhouses, and an ancient road that was stronger and harder-wearing than pretty much any modern construction. The largest building in town was an old church, probably a relic from the days of Helmar worship.

Something about it seemed off. The streetlights were on, casting a faint glow over the road, which meant that someone cared enough to keep them in good repair, as well as supply power. But none of the houses had any sort of lights on, hiding any inside presence or movement. I tread carefully, and tucked close to a building as I peeked around its corner. Knight pulled close behind, ready to provide cover.

Parked in the middle of the street was an old beat-up farm truck. A streetlight illuminated it from above like it was a gift from Helmar. If I hadn't known better, I'd have rushed over to it.

But I knew a trap when I saw one.

Immediately, I began surveying the area, watching the rooftops, the spire of the village church, nearby windows. I'd even wager that there wasn't any fuel in the damn truck at all,

"Close up," I muttered to Knight. "We don't want to be caught in the open."

"Good spot a street back, defendable." he replied.

I nodded. "Lead the way, I've got your back."

Unconsciously, I thumbed the fire-selector switch to burst fire mode. I warily scanned the area around us as Knight started to move.

There. In the shadows across the road, something was moving. I slowly backed along the side of the house, following Knight's path. We weren't ready to engage, yet. Always engage the enemy on your own terms. Suspiciously, I looked back up at the church spire--

Immediately I dropped to the ground, as I heard a bullet impact the ground behind me, Knight following suit shortly after. The muzzle flash from the sniper up there had been unmistakable. I rolled to the side, out of the shooter's LOS, then rose to a crouch, rifle at the ready. Knight took up a similar position beside me, scanning the opposite direction.

Lights started to turn on all around ous. Shouting, of men and women, barking dogs. I heard a car engine stutter to life somewhere, roaring as the driver gunned it.

From inside one of the houses, a man charged out wielding some kind of hunting shotgun. He spotted us, shouted something that was lost in the rain, and pointed his gun our way. I effortlessly raised my rifle and sent a three-round burst at him, striking his legs and knocking him down. Knight fired at something as well, and shouted "House across the street! Inside, now!"

I ran first, firing a burst into the door lock and kicking it in. I quickly surveyed the room, spinning around to cover Knight. He sprinted across, and I fired a few bursts towards the church tower.

"How many?" I asked.

"Dozen, wearing robes. Maybe more. Hard to tell." Knight reported.

I nodded, and shut what was left of the door. I looked through a nearby window, into the street, where a bunch of robed people were now congregating. They had an assortment of weapons, some homemade, some military, some civilian hunter gear, but all of them were armed and probably angry.

"Behind us!" Knight shouted suddenly.

I ducked, and a woodcutting axe embedded itself into the wall where my head had just been. A large man lunged for my rifle, but I deftly drew my boot knife and stabbed his arm. He grunted and drew back, as another man pushed through the broken door. I unloaded a burst into both of them, as well as a third who threw something at Knight. More of them came in, and while I managed to hit a few of them, my heart sank as I heard the inevitable *click!* of an emptied magazine.

They managed to grab me, taking my rifle while heaving me bodily into the rain-soaked street. Knight was taken as well, and pressed up against a wall as I was roughly tied with ropes. I tried to resist, but my punches, kicks, and wild flailing did nothing to deter them.

When they finished, I fell to the ground, helpless. I could do nothing as I watched one of the robed men near Knight take a jagged, stained dagger, and raise it high above his head.

I could do nothing as the dagger plunged down into Knight's chest. He fell to the street limply, the last thing I saw before a heavy boot came down on my head, knocking me out cold...

...

...The next thing I knew was a splash of cold water on my face. I tried to wipe my eyes, but my hands were tied together. So were my feet. My body ached, and I could tell from the painful stings that I'd taken more than a few cuts and bruises.

A hooded man stood over me, holding a clay jar. He looked over me for a moment, and seeing my reaction, he turned around and left. I strained to look around, to try and figure out where I was, as he closed me in behind him.

I was inside a holding cell, in some sort of concrete room; a basement, maybe. The cold floor was rough and unforgiving, and a dim fluorescent tube flickered weakly on the ceiling above. All of my equipment had been stripped from me, leaving me with only my undershirt, uniform pants, and my ID Disc. I shifted around, trying to get some bloodflow going, even straining against my bindings to see if they were loose.

No dice. The rope was too tight, biting painfully into my wrists and ankles.

Somewhere close, a door creaked open. Heavy footsteps approached, and words were exchanged just out of sight. I couldn't hear what was said exactly, but by their tone, it concerned myself.

The hooded man returned, this time followed by two wearing similar vestments, and a third who was dressed quite differently. While the others wore dark robes, made of some kind of cotton, this third man wore a robe made from burlap.

The man in burlap, unlike his fellows, wore his hood down, revealing his face to me. He was clean-shaven, and his hair was trimmed close to his head. On his face he had a wry smile -- in any other circumstances it would have been endearing, but somehow it filled me with dread. The way he carried himself was charming, confident, even welcoming in an odd sort of way.

But even the prettiest face in the world couldn't mask what I saw, what I really saw. I saw a liar. I saw a cheat. I saw a corporate business man. I saw a scumbag recruiter who'd picked a grieving 18 year old kid out of a crowd and talked him into something he should never have agreed to. I saw an old man who'd started a war, sending countless young men and women to their deaths, all for the sake of making sure some imaginary number didn't stop going up.

He wasn't any of those people, but I knew the way he looked at me. He looked at me like I was an opportunity. Not as a person, but as something to be exploited. Before he even said a word, I had him pegged for what he truly was.

A cult leader.

"This one will suffice," the man in burlap smiled. "Thank you, Brothers and Sisters, you may leave for now."

The hooded figures, his acolytes, bowed their heads, and left the room. The man in burlap waited for the door to close behind them before stepping closer to my cell.

"Ah, you must be the young Corporal Archer. Do you mind if I call you Liam?" he asked, with a disingenuous amount of care.

"Go to hell." I muttered, and spat in his direction. It went wide.

The man in burlap frowned, and retaliated by spitting as well, which landed on my shoulder. "It's rude to spit at people, you know. How do you feel now that I've spat on you? Humiliated, I imagine, but that's not why you're here."

He paused, and turned as he began to slowly pace back and forth in front of my cell. I had no interest in his words, but I had no choice but to listen.

"You and your friend caused quite the disturbance tonight. Here in Arlus, we take great strides to care for our own. We look after eachother, because we're a family. Do you know what you did, Liam? You've disrupted our family."

I highly doubted that he had any real care for his followers, outside of what they provided for him.

"Disrupted, indeed. Seven of our brothers and sisters are dead this night, by the hands of you and your friend. It's rude to kill people, you know, especially when they have a family. But... given your background, I suppose you're quite familiar with killing, aren't you Liam?" he asked

He didn't need the satisfaction of an answer, so I didn't give him any. I simply said nothing and fixed him with a cold and steady stare.

"And, given that you arrived in our little town from the south, I suppose you encountered one of our traps? Unable to spot it in the darkness and the rain, you drove right over it, and decided to chance a visit to Arlus, maybe to find yourself another form of transport? Alas, if only you'd taken our bait, this would have gone without so much bloodshed..." He wiped a tear from his eye, though his eyes weren't even red.

"Just kill me and get it over with." I coughed.

The man in burlap smiled, but this time it had a more sinister bend to it. "Ah, ah ah ah! Impatient, aren't you? No, we will not kill you yet. Not until the Ritual is ready to commence."

"Ritual?"

"Oh yes, the Ritual. You are the key to it, in fact. You would not believe how difficult it was to find someone to translate it, even before all of that nasty business a few months ago happened. But, as was inevitable, I managed to have it translated. Once it's complete, I shall be granted power beyond mortal understanding. I would become a New God!"

So that was to be my fate. Killed for the vanity of some crazy cult leader.

"I see that look in your eyes. You think I'm off my rocker, wrong in the head, that not all of my dogs are barking. Perhaps. Perhaps not. Such has always been the case when dealing with magic that the unlearned cannot comprehend."

"Magic?" I asked. "Magic's not real, man,"

"I must admit, I had considered the possibility. But how then could you explain our history? The bridge at Ostenbury had to be constructed somehow, was it not? How could you create such a structure with the tools the ancients had at their disposal? With the help of aliens? Preposterous. So I looked to our histories, studied in the most prestigious institutions, dedicated my life to finding the thread that held everything together." The man in burlap shut his eyes, reliving his memories. He breathed deeply, like he was relaxing in a hot bath, and when he reopened his eyes they had a fiery glint to them. "But, even in the most outlandish myths and legends, there is a grain of truth. Observe."

From his pocket, he removed a large piece of flint, and a steel rod. Raising the flint, he struck it upon the rod, casting a shower of sparks. I was about to dismiss his actions as mere showmanship, if it weren't for what happened next.

The sparks did not go out. They landed on the floor, but before my eyes they began to move. And then they began to dance, floating up into the air and converging to a single ball. The burning hot fragments of metal glowed hotly, and soon a ball of flame appeared around them with an audible *fwoosh!*, casting light and heat around it.

The ball of fire drew my gaze like a magnet. All wisdom and logic said it was impossible, yet it had just happened. The ball of fire continued to float, and the man held out his hand. Within moments the ball of flame zipped over, and hovered above his palm.

"Behold, the power of the ancients!" he boasted.

"What? H-how?" I stuttered.

"Unfortunately, that is only for me to know. It wouldn't exactly do for others to discover this power, would it? They might decide to oppose my will. And those who oppose my will, shall be crushed beneath it."

I was stunned. Magic actually existed. Almost everyone in the modern era dismissed it as an embellishment, making legends out of mundane deeds and contrivances, a metaphor for natural forces outside of our control. Its very existence changed everything we knew about our history...

"Now, it's no personal slight against you, young Liam, but to tear asunder the fabric and remake it in my own vision, I need the Blood Price. Some unlucky soul was going to pay the price. If your friend was here, I would have given you the ultimate choice. One of you would need to die, while the other would live eternally with the guilt that they had done the deed. But, as they say, nothing's perfect. At least until I have something to say about it."

The man in burlap was about to gloat some more, but he was interrupted by the *Beep-beep!* of a digital watch's alarm going off.

He chuckled as he looked at the time. "It seems that our time together will soon be over. Take solace in the fact that your death will usher in a new era."

Somewhere above us, church bells chimed. It was 11 o'clock, presumably at night by the way he'd been talking. The man in burlap turned and walked away as I heard the doors open once more. The three hooded figures, now joined by three more, filed into the dungeon. Each held mean-looking daggers on their persons, and all were burly brutes if I'd ever seen any. They unlocked my cell door and forced me into some kind of collar. Prongs in the collar jabbed into my neck slightly; a warning not to resist or cause trouble. If the leash were strained, they would pierce my skin painfully.

They untied my feet, allowing me to walk, but they left my hands alone. I didn't want to imagine what was going to happen to me up there, but for all his talk about "family" I didn't think it would be family friendly.

Slowly, they led me out of the holding cell by the collar, my bare feet cold and clammy. They took me out into what seemed like a series of underground tunnels, guiding me up a set of stairs. At the top was a large wooden door that looked about as old as the buildings in town did.

That door lead up into what I thought was the church. It was a large open room with pews arranged facing a dais, and a series of unnerving stained glass windows along each wall. There were no lights, only a smattering of candles around the sanctuary. They flickered ominously.

Throughout the room, there were more robed figures waiting, some holding large candles, others simply waiting for something. Waiting for the main attraction.

In the middle of the floor, a ritual circle had been drawn, with odd geometric patterns ringing it. The acolytes tied long ropes to my ankles and wrists, which they then threaded through looks that had been secured to the floor. Each rope was taken in hand by two of them, and I was forced to the floor on my back. I lay there, hopeless and helpless, as the man in burlap slowly stepped around the ritual circle, speaking in a strange guttural language.

Eventually, he approached the dais, and raised his hands to the sky. "Brothers and Sisters, long have we languished, long have we toiled," he said with gravitas. "Long have we awaited the moment of our ascension!"

A murmur arose from the assembled cultists, some form of prayer that was unintelligible to me.

"Look upon the circle, Brothers and Sisters, and see how our faith has been rewarded! This night, though some of our siblings were lost, we have our offering! With this stranger, our Lord will be revitalised! Our fallen bretheren have gone to his side, and even now they prepare his way!"

Another murmur rose from the crowd. "Praise be!", they said. But that was not all I could hear. There were strange noises outside, very faint, but they were there.

"Come forth, Blade-Bearers, and prepare our offering!"

At his word, four of the cultists stepped forward from the crowd, but I wasn't paying attention to them.

I was listening to what was happening outside. I heard *Cra-cra-cra-cra-cra-cra!*, the distinctive sound of a .50 calibre machine gun. Then I heard it again. And again.

It was getting closer.

"Trespassers! They must not be allowed to interrupt our holy work!" The man in burlap snarled, before barking orders to a nearby cultist. Some of the congregation ran into a side room, exiting with firearms ready, positioning themselves around the sanctuary.

The Blade-Bearers approached the ritual circle, lifting up jagged blades similar to the one that had killed Knight. He didn't deserve that kind of death, not after we'd been through so much together. If only he could have died peacefully, of old age.

But that dream was gone now, and the Reckoning had turned a world destined for peace, into one that might never see peace again.

With their knives, the Blade Bearers drew close. I tried to fight against my bonds, but the cultists holding down the ropes were too strong for me. I was immobilized. But regardless, I continued to fight, even as they prepared to strike.

But then I noticed something else. The gunfire had ceased, but it had been replaced by the loud, but distant whine of an engine.

And it was getting closer?

*Fwooooom!*

The church doors suddenly exploded into splinters, scattering everywhere. The engine of the Ranger roared as it charged through the opening, plowing through pews as it went. The MG opened up with another *Cra-cra-cra-cra-cra-cra-cra-cra!*, mowing down about a dozen cultists, including the ones who held my restraining ropes. Their leader, the man in burlap, dove for cover, evading the gunfire.

From the passenger seat leapt Lavalley, holding his rifle with its underbarrel granade launcher at the ready. He fired a grenade into the far wall before switching to normal fire and pegging a few cultists. Williams hopped out as well, followed by a wounded but very much alive Knight.

"Archer, sound off!" Knight shouted hoarsely.

"Here! in the circle!" I yelled.

Williams ran forward, popping off a few shots, while Zimmerman provided covering fire on the .50 cal. "Knight, cut him out!" Zimmerman shouted.

Lavalley turned suddenly, and fired wildly towards the entrance. "We've got company, boys! Pack it up and move!" he shouted to us.

Knight, his wounds bandaged but still bleeding, followed behind Williams. He drew out his utility knife, and slashed madly at the ropes holding me down.

"They said they killed you." I said, trailing off.

"I'm not gonna leave you behind! Not now, not after all we've been through!" Knight replied as he freed my right arm. I began working on my left arm while he started on my legs.

Williams moved forward to take cover behind a pew, and fired towards the stairs, where four cultists had taken cover with guns. I watched helplessly as a cultist slowly rose up beside him with one of their jagged knives.

"Watch the left!" I yelled, but it was too late. Williams turned just in time for the knife to come down on his shoulder. His training kicked in and he tackled the cultist who'd stabbed him, immediately getting him into a chokehold. He held up the cultist like a shield, but his compatriots fired mercilessly through him, riddling both Williams and the cultist with holes. They dropped to the floor, dead.

Lavalley ducked behind the Ranger and loaded his underbarrel GL once more, taking aim for the ones who'd shot Williams. With a *Thunk!*, an incendiary round engulfed them. Lavalley shouted to Zimmerman, "Williams is down, Watch the entrance, I'm going for him!"

"Roger!" Zimmerman replied, turning his turret 180 degress and opening fire on hostiles outside the church.

Finally, Knight helped me out of my bonds, heaving me to my feet. "Get in the Ranger, we need to go ASAP!" he ordered me, and went to comply.

But I couldn't. Not when I heard the telltale sound of a rocket propelled grenade, sailing in our direction. I dropped to the floor moments before it struck the Ranger, blowing it apart. When I looked up at the turret, Zimmerman was gone.

Lavalley had been thrown clear by the blast, his rifle knocked from his hands. "YOU BASTARDS! YOU KILLED THEM! I'M GOING TO FUCKING DESTROY YOU!" he screamed in anguish, snatching up his rifle and loading a fresh mag. He fired full-auto through the flames and wreckage that now blocked the entrance and charged forward, heedless of his own safety. He leapt through the developign inferno and charged into the street, continuing to fire wildly. The firing eventually ceased, though it was followed by the muffled *thwooom* of a grenade explosion.

I dragged myself to my feet, and looked around in a panic. The fires had begun to spread, and some of the cultists, perhaps fearing more for their own lives than the future of their religion, made a run for it. I saw Knight checking Williams' still form on the ground, and I limped towards him. In all the chaos, a shard of wood had embedded itself in my leg.

"Knight, we gotta go!" I shouted.

"No, he's still alive, we can save-"

*Crack, crack, crack, crack!*

Five gunshots rang out behind me, shot by a small calibre handgun. Knight said no more as he unceremoniously collapsed. I turned and my blood boiled when I saw who had done it.

The man in burlap, the cult leader, his robe torn and now covered in blood, cackled as he dropped the empty mag from his pistol. "You fools think that you can stop the ritual, don't you? But it's already begun! All I need to do now is kill you personally, and my ascension will be complete!"

I bellowed angrily and lunged at him before he could finish his reload. The pistol fell from his grip as my hands wrapped around his neck. He flailed about, trying to hit me somewhere, but he didn't have the strength. I tightened my grip, prepared for the kill as the flames slowly came closer.

But then he managed to hit the shard of wood in my leg, and I cried out in pain. My hold loosened, the cult leader headbutted me and threw me to the side. Something had invigorated him. Some foul magic, no doubt.

I had no time to act as he kicked me and stomped on my chest. I felt my ribs crack and break, and breathing suddenly became much harder.

"Your friends have failed you, young Liam! They're dead, and now you too shall die! I would reassure you, and say that I'd welcome you at my side like I told most of those other ingrates, but I won't." The cult leader gloated, his foot on my chest. He took one of the jagged daggers, and began to raise it high...

He didn't get very far. Without warning, Knight, somehow not yet dead despite his injuries, tackled the cult leader. He'd picked up one of the cultist's knives and drove it into their leader's chest, into his heart. He stabbed again, and again, and again. When the man in burlap stopped moving, Knight fell to the side, bloodied.

The fire raged, now. The exits were now blocked by debris, and the walls were threatening to cave in. I coughed, wincing as my ribs stung painfully. My hand came away from my mouth covered in droplets of blood. One of the bits of bone had punctured a lung, which if it wasn't stopped would curse me to a slow death of drowning in my own blood -- if the fire didn't get me first.

I slowly dragged myself over to Knight, who still breathed weakly. He looked at me painfully, and tried to say something, but nothing came out. He reached out with his good hand, which I took carefully.

"This is the end for us, then." I said sadly.

Knight shook his head and coughed. "...For me... not you..." he croaked as his other hand fumbled at his neck.

His ID Disc. He was trying to take it off. I helped him as best I could. On the chain hung two objects, his disc, and a second pendant which resembled a cat's eye. For some soldiers it was common to put things that were special to them on their chains, usually a ring or religious symbol, but something seemed different about the cat's eye pendant.

I went to put the chain into his hand, but instead Knight pushed it back into my own. "Keep it, Liam... my good luck charm..." he muttered.

"Won't matter much. There's no way out." I replied dejectedly. I went to take my own Disc off, but he shook his head again.

"...The cat's eye amulet... family heirloom... nine lives... bound by blood... not my idea, but I tried to make it count... it belongs to you now..."

I grimaced dejectedly. "You're delirious. What you're saying doesn't make sense."

Knight smiled, probably for the last time. "...You never did believe in magic, Liam... but I believe in you..."

He chuckled, though it was closer to a coughing fit than anything else. He squeezed my hand as he laid his head on the ground. I squeezed back, and watch him take one last, deep breath, before shutting his eyes and shuddering.

His hand went limp. I squeezed it once, but there was no response.

So passed a true friend. A comrade. A brother.

Now all that was left was me.

I looked around at the flames as they closed in, feeling the heat on my skin. It was oppressive, and I felt lightheaded. The fumes, and maybe more than a little bit of blood loss. The chunk of wood in my leg had probably hit an artery.

Now, I could no longer think straight. Maybe everything would be better if I just closed my eyes, and laid down beside Knight's remains.

Maybe everything would be better if I shut my eyes, and entered the darkness.

Swirling, whirling, all-encompassing, darkness.

Everything, and yet nothing...

18 - Awoken (Finale)

All around me was darkness.

I'd been here before, hadn't I? Not that long ago at all, in fact.

Yes... something about it was familiar to me. But it was equal parts different.

Or maybe, I was different.

My past was was clear to me now. Start to finish. Not that I didn't have any questions, but that was just because I didn't have all of the answers. Who did, really? For example, what about that ritual? And the cat's eye amulet? When I had a moment, maybe I could look into those.

But I had a name. A real name, not one I'd made up. Corporal Liam Archer, of the Keleseth Guard. Formerly, I should add.

Though, come to think of it, there was something I needed to do.

All I had to do was open my eyes.

So I did. A blinding light greeted me, forcing me to shield my eyes from the glare. I was in a bed somewhere, judging by the feeling of sheets on my skin. The next thing I noticed was the distinct smell of cinnamon. And then, the underlying smell of tangy apples... and sweet peaches.

Was someone cooking?

I blinked and squinted through the harsh light, trying to make sense of where I was. It was a bedroom of some kind.

No, I knew this bedroom. It was the Apple Family guestroom. My first hint was the apple motif on the furniture, and my second was the familiar bookshelf filled with adventure books. Daring Do and the Ruinous Powers, indeed. The third clue, of course, was the glass of apple juice on the bedside table.

"Ink Blot? Are you awake?"

"...Yeah," I croaked, my throat dry. I realised that I was parched.

"Hold on just a minute, let me get the curtains."

From the corner near the window, someone moved. I caught a flash of an insectoid carapace as the curtains were closed slightly, blocking the incoming sunlight enough for me to properly see who was speaking to me. And as I'd already surmised, it was Quill.

"What happened?" I wheezed before coughing weakly.

Quill smiled meekly, but it quickly turned into a wince. "So, uh, long story short? We got rid of the parasite."

"That's a good thing, right?" I asked. I reached for the of apple juice, condensation glistening as it clung to the side of the glass. But I could not reach it. My muscles faltered, and my hoof fell limply to the bed.

Come to think of it, my foreleg looked a lot more... slender than I'd remembered. I frowned and tried to straighten up, maybe tog et out of the bed.

"Easy, easy!" Quill stopped me with a hoof on my chest. "You're not in any state to be getting out and about right now. You need to rest and recover your strength.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

A knock came from the bedroom door. Quill, in an obvious attempt to avoid answering the question, leapt up to answer the door instead. He opened it, and I saw the striped visage of Zecora on the other side.

"I assume that our friend has awakened?" she greeted Quill.

"Yeah, he's still pretty weak though." Quill replied.

"Then let us see if his recovery may yet be hastened." Zecora said sagely. She entered the bedroom, wearing saddlebags that bulged with mystic ingredients. She set it down carefully, withdrawing a mortar and pestle as well as a collection of various things with magical properties. Some were familiar: dried sprigs and leaves, shavings of bark, mushrooms of all shapes and sizes. Others were more fantastical: flowers that glowed blue, pulsating growths, a shard of purple amethyst, as well as some kind of oversized beetle.

"What, no toil and trouble today? Fire burn and cauldron bubble?" I asked jokingly.

"There have been many spells and cures I took the time to learn. Thankfully for you, your current troubles are more earthly concerns." Zecora smiled faintly, like she'd heard that joke once or twice before. I don't know how she could have, considering it originated in my world.

Though I had to wonder, if some aspects of life between my world and this one were similar, maybe they had similar literary references as well? If Charles Monteforte had written the play in my world, who's to say that there hadn't been a similar play written in Equestria?

But that was neither here nor there, and I hadn't exactly studied the subject in post-secondary. Unless I had the full libraries from both worlds available to scour and cross reference, then I wouldn't exactly be able to do more than speculate.

Right on Zecora's heels came another familiar face, though she had brought a friend with her as well. "Hello there," Starlight said when she entered. "I hope you don't mind that I brought someone else along."

"Starlight Glimmer. I can't exactly stop you at this point, can I?" I asked wryly.

"I suppose you can't, can you?" Starlight asked back.

The friend she'd brought with her looked... familiar in some way. And by familiar, I mean that she was insectoid like Quill was. She was a Changeling. But not entirely like Quill either. Her carapace was not black, but a light aqua tone. And she didn't look tattered or scarred in the way that Quill did.

"Hi," the new Changeling said nervously.

"Quill, I asked you to swing by the school a hundred times, and you didn't." Starlight admonished him.

Quill shrugged. "I was busy."

"Busy with what?"

Quill ignored her. "You must be Ocellus, then. You're with Thorax?" he greeted the newcomer.

"Yep. You're one of Chrysalis's infiltrators?" Ocellus asked.

"Not anymore."

"Excuse me, I still haven't gotten a straight answer. What happened to me? Why am I so weak?" I interjected with annoyance.

Starlight winced and looked at Ocellus sheepishly. "Maybe you should wait downstairs for a bit? I think we'll be a minute or two."

Ocellus nodded and slinked away, happy to be away from the group of strangers.

"Well, like I said, we got rid of the parasite--" Quill began.

"You've been unconscious for two weeks." Starlight interrupted him before he could say any more.

"What?" I asked.

"You've been unconscious for two weeks." Starlight said again.

I shook my head. "No, I understood that just fine, but how did it happen?"

"So, um, to actually get to the parasite, Starlight and I had to link our magic. Emotions and memories, sort of woven together like a blanket." Quill explained. "Or a hat."

Zecora nodded with mystical wisdom as she carefully ground her chosen ingredients into a fine paste.

"You fell to the ground and passed out after touching that necklace, which is how it was supposed to happen. Moments after you passed out there was a massive surge of emotions and memories, like a broken dam. That thing got washed away like a leaf in a river. We couldn't find any trace of it after. Though, you weren't supposed to stay asleep for this long. You were supposed to wake up after a few minutes, then everything would be alright." Starlight said.

"Your situation was not entirely unseen. But I... misjudged what the outcome should have been." Zecora shook her head in disappointment as she added the paste into a larger bowl, where she mixed it thoroughly with water. The end product was unappealing and reminded me of white school glue.

"I don't have to drink that, do I?" I asked.

"Fear not, this potion will help you restore your strength."

"What's in it?"

Zecora frowned. "The full list? I would need to explain at length. All that matters is that you drink, no matter what it is you think."

"Are you saying that as my licensed physician?" I said with a smile, quickly breaking into a laugh.

"Just drink the potion!" Zecora snapped, but she started to laugh as well.

I waggled my hoof disapprovingly. "You can't forget to do your rhyming!"

"Perish the notion!"

I don't know why it was funny, but it was. The levity was a welcome distraction from the doubts and fears that had begun to plague my mind.

There wasn't really a good way to explain it. I felt like I didn't belong in Equestria. Not because of any tangible factors, but because of some of the things I'd seen. Equestria did not know war, it did not know the level of death and destruction that I knew. Everything was so, well, perfect here. At least from what I'd seen so far. It didn't seem real anymore, like it was some kind of dream that I might suddenly wake up from.

Maybe this was just a dying delusion, and I still lay in the smouldering ruins of that damned church.

Though from what Starlight and Zecora soon explained to me, I'd somehow crossed from my time stream into theirs. When Starlight tried to erase Princess Twilight's friendships, almost every one of their actions resulted in some kind of alternate future where Equestria fell to ruin. Those were time streams that Twilight had borne witness to, apparently including one where the Changeling Queen reigned victorious over Equestria and Zecora led a small tribe of ponies who resisted the occupation. That alternate Zecora correctly identified that the time stream had been tampered with, and urged Twilight to correct it.

This Zecora had a similar knowledge base, it seemed. After the two of them had conferred with Doc Whooves, and pooling together what they knew, all the signs indicated that I did indeed originate outside of this time stream. Which was something that had already been suspected. The only question that remained was "how?".

But that was a question for another day.

I spent another week in the Apple family household recuperating. Not that it was something to complain about, because their home cooking was both nourishing and delicious. Quill came and visited every day, talking about the things he was learning. It seemed that Starlight had managed to convince him to enroll at the school, and partnered him with Ocellus temporarily to bring him up to speed on everything he'd missed so far. Everypony else who considered me a friend, like Ray, Rags, Penny, Ginger, Gyro, even Pinkie, they had questions upon questions, which I did my best to answer.

But... there were some things I didn't answer. Couldn't answer. Wouldn't answer. Mostly because I didn't want to curse them with knowledge from another world that wouldn't help them here. War was a mistake, one that should never be repeated in Equestria.

It was two days before I had the strength to walk, three more before I could walk without assistance. I don't know what exactly made it so difficult to relearn, but every so often I caught myself trying to walk with just my hind legs. Ponies weren't built that way, so it never ended well.

Zecora, in her enigmatic way, implied that it wasn't just change and healing for my body, but across the entire self. Soul, mind, and body. Starlight was more skeptical, but Quill agreed with the zebra.

Eventually, they thought that I was strong enough to leave the farmstead.

We were sitting around the dining table in the morning, with Applejack and Quill, making small talk when Starlight finally asked "Ready to go?"

I nodded, and took up the saddlebags that held my meagre possessions. I was wearing Gyro's claw boots and I was ready to... well, I was ready for something.

"I'm ready." I said.

Starlight was about to get up, but then she remembered something. "Here, I think this is yours," she said as she took out that small, bottle cap sized disc. It was still on its chain. "That's your name on it, right? Your real one."

I stayed silent, but accepted the disc. It was... comforting in a way. One last link to him.

C-43714192
I. A. KNIGHT
HMR A/RH/POS
UFS ARMY

"There's something I'd like to do." I said finally.

One last time, we went back to the place where I'd woken up in Equestria. Some of the leaves were just beginning to turn, and soon they'd be awash in the colours of autumn.

As soon as I saw the glade, I knew exactly what I was going to do. I took two fallen tree branches, one long and one short, tying them securely together with twine to form a cross. I drove the cross into the ground until it wouldn't budge, and began to painstakingly pile stones around it.

When the memorial was done, I carefully took the disc and hung it from the cross. A soldier's grave. I sat in front of it and bowed my head.

I'd never been religious. A lot of soldiers followed the ways of Helmar, at least nominally, but I never cared for it very much. There were all sorts of rites and rituals they could provide for the fallen, to give the survivors a sense of finality, a sense of security. But right now, all I could think of was how much he'd lost, how he'd sacrificed himself to give me a chance at life.

"What's this for, Ink Blot?" Starlight asked.

"It's for someone who was very dear to me," I said sadly. "Isaiah Alexander Knight. He selflessly gave everything he had in the defense of others. My best friend. He was like a brother to me, always there to offer help and support when I needed it. He paid the ultimate price, not in service of a higher cause, but in service of those around him. He will be remembered."

All was quiet as I gave my friend his final eulogy. For the first time in a while, I let down my guard, and let myself cry.

When I came to terms with myself, I finally stood up, turned around, and left the peaceful glade. I didn't know what was next for me, but I had made a resolution.

I was going to live on. In memory of his sacrifice.

Author's Note

Fin.

1 - Waking

Darkness.

Swirling, whirling, all-encompassing, darkness.

Everything, and yet nothing.

Something about it felt wrong, like something important was missing and this was what all that was left. A void.

Everything felt wrong.

I opened my eyes.

I was in the forest. Birds were singing. The wind softly rustled the leaves and needles of trees overhead. I, of course, was in a small glade among the trees, lying on my front with my face in the dirt and grass. It must have been about midsummer, maybe even as late as the beginning of fall. The sun warmed my back as I took in my surroundings. Some of the bushes had berries, and most of the spring flowers had disappeared in favour of putting out seed.

Which begged the question; where exactly am I?

I tried to think. What’d I do last night? I couldn’t remember. In fact, I almost couldn’t remember anything. Name, family, home address, place of birth, date of birth, nothing at all. It was all empty, just a swirling, whirling, all-encompassing darkness.

Well, not quite everything. I could think in phrases, talk to myself. I could breathe, I understood basic arithmetic. It was like an archaeologist digging up bones and stones. Only the skeleton of what had been remained, the rest lost forever. Even so, there was nothing to be gained by lying in the dirt and feeling sorry for myself. I was certain everything would return with time.

I stretched a bit and felt my muscles flex. They were a bit stiff, which was what I got for sleeping on the hard ground. Turning my head to look around a bit, I saw my... hooves? With that though my mind began to cloud up, like I was waking up from a dream and the details were fading away. They were my hooves. What else would they be? The longer I tried to think about it the cloudier and darker the fog got. Maybe it was just a migraine, or I’d been out late drinking? Yeah, that had to be it. With that thought the fog began to recede. I rubbed my forehead to try and encourage its departure.

Wait, what was that? An unmistakable protrusion from my forehead. The fog came back near-instantly, slowing every thought to a crawl. No, no, it was just a horn, just my horn. There wasn’t anything wrong, not at all. Even as the fog receded accordingly a nagging doubt remained at the back of my mind. An unfounded doubt, but a doubt nonetheless. I planted my front hooves on the ground to push myself up and suddenly realized I didn’t remember how to walk. One leg went forward, but which leg followed? It wasn't one at the time, as that triggered a rise in the mental fog. Clearly it was best not to think too hard about the mechanics, only about the destination ahead. Get the rhythm, then let it flow subconsciously. With that, it was so much easier. I did a few circles of the glade, trying to practice it and understand. Repetition upon repetition upon repetition until it can be done without thinking.

Once I got the hang of it, it was easy. I took the time to try and collect my thoughts, reconcile the blank spot in my mind with the, well, fragments of thoughts. It really did feel like I’d just woken up from some strange dream. If I tried I could remember some detail, but the nitty-gritty was escaping me, lost in the mysterious fog. If I tried to think about it I became lost in it, mired in it. If I didn't find something else to distract my thoughts then every mental faculty I had would lock up.

None of this mattered, of course, if I were to be eaten by some marauding creature with a taste for horseflesh. Wolves, cougars, oversized fishers, maybe even a bear fresh out of hibernation. The four tenants of survival demanded that I adapt or perish. I needed to find somewhere safe where I could rest when needed, I needed to find out where I was, I needed to find safe drinking water, and I needed to find food. If possible, I would also need to find my way to the closest form of civilization.

Safety was subjective. I could look for a cliff face with a cave, or attempt to construct a shelter under a fallen tree. Without tools I wouldn’t be able to do very much very fast, but a bit of ingenuity and brain-grease would get me situated. Probably the easiest part was figuring out where I was in relation to the constants of the world (Not that it was particularly easy). The sun rose in the east, set in the west, while most types of moss would prefer the shady sides of trees, which could be either north or south according to hemisphere. I could then try to extrapolate from less concrete factors. For example, I’d just woken up, and assuming a relatively normal sleep schedule most folks would wake up before noon. But that wasn't exactly as accurate and surefire as I needed it to be; I could have stayed up late and slept late accordingly.

I figured I'd be best off picking a direction and walking until I found some height. I could just barely see some mountains through the thicker trees. Assuming the sun was still rising and we were in the northern hemisphere, the mountains were north of me. I could also be completely wrong and be looking south as the sun was beginning to set. The mountains, being the only visible landmark aside from trees and grass, were the obvious way to go.

It wasn’t long before I found a hill that was completely clear of trees, with a decent view over the rest of the forest, which dipped down into a sort of valley. It was almost breathtaking. A tranquil little town straddled a meandering river, expanding outward from a large building that resembled some sort of carousel. A massive crystalline tree sprouted on the edge of the town, which had been converted into some sort of palace. If I followed the river, it led to a waterfall coming down from a tall mountain range, where on a steep plateau that ringed the tallest of the mountains rested a magnificent castle town. The southern and eastern edges of the forest were marked by a railroad that cut past the town and spiraled into the distance to some unknown location.

Between myself and the town was a very large apple orchard followed by a stretch of farmland. It wasn’t that far away; I could probably be there within an hour or two. Apples were good, lots of ways to eat apples. Very versatile fruit, easily comparable to the potato in terms of breadth of use. Based on the season, the apples would be in the middle of ripening, and the early bloomers would have fallen for easy pickings. No farmer would miss one or two apples, no matter how diligent and watchful. I happily began my walk in the woods.

On my way there, I realised that there were a few hangups. Firstly, I had no cash. No cash meant I’d be spending the night in the street or back out in these woods. Second, I had no identification. Nothing, not even a name to put down for some sort of loan at whatever sort of bank or credit union there was. Third, I had no idea if I even spoke the same language as the locals. And then there would be the matter of trying to keep myself presentable. Could try to wash myself in the river or in some sort of pond, maybe there was some sort of upscale salon that styled hai- manes. Styled manes. I needed to think carefully, otherwise the fog would come back. Not that I couldn't function while it was there, but it slowed everything down and made me confused.

It seemed much longer than an hour before I found where the forest ended and the orchard began. Scattered around most of the trees were baskets, positioned perfectly to catch the vast majority of falling apples. The trees that didn’t were currently bare of ripened apples. A quick scouting revealed to me a few baskets that had caught a few, which presented a brief but easily solved dilemma. How to eat? I drew a blank on how I could pick it up. So, I just bent down and bit into it like I was bobbing for, well, apples, balancing it on my hoof between bites. A good crisp apple fills the belly nicely, and ignoring the fact that seeds have minuscule amounts of cyanide, I ate the whole core. Except for the stem and applebutt, which I spat out.

My ears perked up as I heard someone holler in the distance. It wasn’t an angry holler, but it was closer than I'd have liked. The last thing that I needed right now was to be discovered by the local farmers on the wrong terms. Trespassing on what I had good reason to believe was private property as an unknown face in town, and then add theft to the mix? If the farmer wasn't friendly, I'd be on the receiving end of what they called “Small Town Justice”. I made a tactical retreat to the orchard outskirts and hid behind a line of bushes. If I was found here, I had an easy run for the treeline.

That proved to be unnecessary. A trio of ponies, one who was large and red who wore a collar, one who was small and yellow, and an orange one with a wide-brimmed hat, were coming out of the main farm building, which seemed to be a barn converted into a homestead. They went out into the orchard, where they went to work giving the trees swift bucks, knocking the vast majority of apples down into the waiting baskets. I would guess that they had just taken a break for lunch and were coming back to the grind. If I concentrated enough I could barely make out their conversation.

“How much longer do you think this’ll take?” asked the small yellow one.

“Well, we got nearly a third th’ order done this mornin’, so if we keep at it til night? It’ll be, say, ‘bout halfway, then the same tomorrow makes it. Maybe two days all told.” said the orange hatted one.

“Eeyup.” affirmed the big red one.

“Ah know you have important Crusader business, but we couldn’t pass up th’ order. If Sweet Apple Acres is going to meet ends this month, we need ta finish it.” the orange one continued.

“Ah know, Applejack, an’ ah’m happy to help out. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo can handle Crusadin’ without me, but inn’t there one uh those “subsidies” we can get or somethin’?” the yellow one said.

The orange one, Applejack, sighed. “No, apparently we “aren’t eligible” because we don’t meet the “volunteer to staff ratio” or some other hooey made-up requirement. Ah think that darn secretary just din’t wanna fill out the paperwork.”

“Eeyup.” affirmed the big red one.

With this knowledge, the apple I’d just eaten sat differently in my stomach.

“Still, that’s a lotta apples in not a lotta time. What’d they even want ‘em for?” the yellow one asked.

“Some fancy party up in Canterlot, the pony in charge of planning it heard we had th’ best apples in Central Equestria.” Applejack shrugged. “Offered us a lotta bits if we could deliver on short notice, an’ said he’d be interested in more negotiations in th' future. If he puts in more orders, ah’d need your help again Apple Bloom.”

“Don’t worry sis, ah’d never let the family down.” the yellow one, Apple Bloom, responded.

This time, the big red one said nothing, but nodded at the two of them with a smile, while the three of them continued to work away.

Even as I watched, my eyes kept getting drawn to the markings on their flanks. Applejack, the orange one, had three red apples arranged in a sideways triangle. The big red one had a green apple with a slice taken out of it. Apple Bloom, the yellow one, had the most elaborate one; a shield in a tricolour of red, pink, and purple, with a purple apple charge, and a pink heart inside of the apple. Clearly, they were all family, but the marks perplexed me. Tattoo? Ritualistic scarring? Heraldry? Something about it caused me to glance at my own flank, expecting it to be bare, but it wasn’t.

On my own flank was what appeared to be a blot of ink. With the colour of my coat, it seemed like a pot of ink spilled on parchment. It clearly wasn’t a tattoo, and it didn’t feel like a scar. Heraldry seemed most likely - a particular design or motif would be retained through family generations with modifications to make sure every living individual in the family had a unique blazon. Sometimes the designs could get rather complex, much like the mark of the youngest farmer, Apple Bloom.

And so, with the knowledge I'd gained, an idea formed in my head. Offer my help as a farmhand in exchange for room and board. Farmers always had room for folks willing to work hard, even if it was only sleeping space in the hay loft. Once I was there I could get my bearings and figure out where the hell I was. Simple enough. This, of course, assumed they'd appreciate the help of some stranger who conveniently showed up on the day they could use it most.

I retreated from the bushes into the treeline, taking care not to be noticed.

The sun was now low in the sky, tinting the clouds yellow and orange, and I was walking down what appeared to be the main access road to the farmstead. I'd gone over what I was going to say about a hundred times and it felt awkward.

Maybe I was overthinking it.

The orange one, Applejack, looked to be finishing something up in the farmyard. The other two were elsewhere, possibly inside the house. The fence that ringed the yard was simple, poles with three braces between them, tall enough that it reached my chin. Above the wide gate a sign announced the property as "Sweet Apple Acres". The gate was open, but I nervously decided to stop at it in case I wasn't welcome. I almost quivered with anticipation.

It took her a minute to notice me, but when she did she trotted over curiously. "Well, howdy stranger! I'm Applejack, what can ah do ya for?" she asked with a smile.

"Oh, I don't suppose you're in charge of this place?" I said, almost stumbling over my own words.

"In a way; Sweet Apple Acres is family owned. Ah do most of th' work along with my brother Big McIntosh, but Applebloom is a big help too."

"I don't suppose you have a spare room?" I asked, rubbing the back of my neck. "I don't have much in the way of cash right now, but I can do whatever work you give me."

"Ah don't see why not, we never turn down a helping hoof." Applejack nodded.

Her acceptance took me by surprise. "You sure?"

"Surer than wings on a pegasus. Know anything about applebucking?"

"Kick the tree, apples fall. There's probably some technique to it, right?" I said.

"Well, you need ta judge the apples in th' tree and where they'll fall, then give it a swift buck to drop them into the baskets. Big Mac an' ah can do it pretty well in one go, but somepony like yourself would need practice." she explained.

"I'll give it a go, but there's probably other things I do. Is there anything you need help with right now?"

Applejack thought for a moment, then waved me into the yard. "Got the last of my chores to do before nightfall. May as well see what you can do, what's your name again?"

The question took me by surprise. I didn't know my name, and thinking about it too hard made the white noise rise. I could make something up, I could be whoever I wanted to be. But it had to be believable. The names in this family were related to the heraldic marks on their flanks, and that line of thinking meant my name should be related to my mark.

"Ink Blot," I said after a pause. "My name's Ink Blot."

Ink Blot. Ink Blot. It did seem a little too literal, but I didn't have the time to wax poetic and give myself something more grand.

"Well Ink Blot, ah hope you're ready to get working!" Applejack said cheerfully.

The work itself wasn't particularly difficult on its own, just much quicker with two working at it rather than one. The fields had to be irrigated, which involved opening valves throughout the system to ensure each area got properly watered. Baskets had to be moved here and there, filled ones back to the yard for packaging and empty ones out in the orchard to be filled in the morning. After that, there was the matter of giving the pigs and chickens their evening meals, collecting the chicken eggs too.

"That wasn't too bad." I commented as we were finishing up. The sun was just breaching the horizon.

"Normally ah get it all done in th' morning, but there's a lotta applebucking we're gonna havta do for a while, which you'll be helping out with tomorrow." she replied.

I nodded. "Speaking of, could you show me to that spare room? I'd prefer to be settled sooner rather than later, given tomorrow's work."

"Just hold on now, ah'll show you up after you meet th' rest of the family." Applejack smiled.

"Is your family big?" I asked.

"Th' Apple Family has branches all over Equestria, coast to coast and north to south, and we all meet back here for the Family Reunion every 100 moons," she chuckled, "Course, it's just th' five of us here any other time."

"All over Equestria, huh? Couldn't get away from them if you wanted to." I commented.

I couldn't help but wonder what that was like. Having a family, a real one. Did I have one? Did I ever have one? The fog overtook my thoughts and a tide of confused emotions began to fill me. I was dazed and lost in a land I didn't recognize. It was wrong, everything was wrong. I didn't belong here. I needed to run, I needed to escape.

"Ink Blot?"

The question cut through the fog like a blinding light and I jerked my head up. "Huh?"

'Ah asked you where you're from," Applejack seemed concerned. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"It's alright. Just a question I'm not used to answering." I replied. A question I had no way of answering.

"Then let's head in, Big Mac and Sugar Belle should be just about finished cookin'."

"Don't worry, I, uh, ate earlier." I said.

"Either way, you can come in and meet everypony, and Sugar Belle's a great cook. One whiff and you'll be hooked!" Applejack encouraged me.

I nodded and gave her a little smile as she led me inside. They said the only thing better than your own cooking was someone else's, and I wasn't that good of a cook myself.

The Apple Family Homestead was the very model of a quaint country home, the old kind with timber framing. Skillfully made wooden furniture, lovingly sewn quilts and pillows and cushions. You could tell what was new and what was old, but none of it clashed, as it was all unified by the apple motif. Red, yellow, green, it was everywhere. I especially appreciated the ones carved into the furniture itself. The layout was rather open, the main room being both the kitchen and dining room with a counter extending from the wall between them. The dinner table was circular with six place settings already laid out, but if the family was as large as they said there would be enough spare tables and chairs to fill up the whole house.

Even as I felt a stranger here I couldn't help but feel nostalgia for a forgotten childhood. Time spent with family when I was young, playing with siblings and cousins as I waited for supper to begin, the whole family gathered around to celebrate. Days of innocence and happiness those were. Even though the memories were gone, simply being here brought back wisps and ghosts of them.

"Guess what, y'all! We've got one more at the table tonight!" Applejack hollered.

There was a bit of a clattering in the kitchen and a unicorn's head poked out "Oh, that's lovely! Good thing we made extra," said she, "And it's just about ready to eat!" Her purple curls disappeared into the kitchen once more, and a few dishes floated out. A plate of corn on the cob, a bowl of chopped carrots, a salad with a variety of greens, and what looked to be a beetroot based soup.

"Come and get it!" said the pink and purple unicorn in the kitchen, ringing a cowbell to signal the rest of the house. The red pony, who I assumed was Big MacIntosh , came out of the kitchen at the side of the unicorn. The eager clattering of hooves from upstairs preceded the young yellow one, Apple Bloom, and from the sitting room a much older green-coated grey-maned mare moved with the careful steps of an elder plagued by aches and pains.

"Everypony, meet Ink Blot. He's looking for a place to stay tonight in exchange for helping out around the farm tomorrow. He's already helped me out with some of th' chores, and so far he's a good worker." Applejack introduced me to the gathered family. I was impressed that she already had such a high opinion of me despite only having met an hour or two ago.

"Well howdy, Ink Blot! I'm Sugar Belle and this is Big Mac." said the unicorn, Sugar Belle.

"Eeyup." affirmed Big Mac.

"This is my lil' sis, Apple Bloom." Applejack said.

"Nice to meetchya, mister!" Apple Bloom smiled.

"And this is Granny Smith. she's, well, our granny."

Granny Smith smiled as well. "Happy to have ye, er, Ink Blot."

They were all so... nice. I'd been half expecting a warm welcome, but not a welcome as warm as this. "'Thank you, everybody. It's nice of you to let me stay, I hope I'm not intruding any." I replied to them nervously.

"Nonsense!" Granny dismissed my fears. "We Apples lend a helping hoof to anypony who comes to us for help, if they be willing to help us in return"

"Eeyup." affirmed Big Mac.

The food was passed around the table, with everyone dishing out a portion to themselves. The corn cobs were drizzled with butter and seasoned with salt and pepper, the carrots had been done in a honey glaze, and the salad had a nice wild raspberry vinaigrette dressing. It was all home made, made fresh, with none of that chemical taste commercial foods tended to pick up. Something in the way the natural tastes blended made it so much better.

"You two did a great job on the food." I commented to Sugar Belle and Big Mac, who were sitting beside each other.

"Oh, thank you! It was mostly Big Mac, though. He's got quite the knack for putting together a meal." Sugar Belle responded. It was hard to tell, but Big Mac blushed a bit.

"Yep, you two make quite the team." said Applejack.

As I worked my way along the cob of corn I held between my hooves, Apple Bloom spoke up. "So Ink Blot, what brings you round these here parts?"

"Travel, mostly. I'd also been thinking of settling somewhere and finding a place, but these days I'm a bit strapped for cash." I said to her. While not entirely true to my circumstances, it was true to how I felt.

"Ponyville's a great place to live. I used to live in a village up north east a-ways, and even though it has the nicest people it could be just a little bit dreary. Around here it's so vibrant, and everyone's friendly. And the School of Friendship is just outside of town!" Sugar Belle said emphatically. "It's the perfect place for a family."

"How's the housing like? Is it expensive?"

"Most folks buy the land and build ta suit. It's not expensive, but there's all sorts of rules and regulations ta preserve the natural beauty. Ah'm sure there's also a few ponies rentin' too." Applejack explained.

I nodded. "I'll look into that once I've got myself squared away."

Following the main meal was a surprise treat. Freshly baked apple cobbler, with cinnamon and ice cream on the side. "It's a new take on an Apple Family classic!" Sugar Belle winked as she dished it out.

It was extraordinary. Somehow they'd gotten the perfect amount of sugar to balance the natural tartness of the apples they'd picked for it, with the cinnamon giving it the extra edge over. The crust wasn't overly crunchy like some people would do, but the outside was crisp and the inside was chewy. The ice cream was a fairly standard vanilla, but it didn't need more than that to provide the cobbler's contrast. Overall, it was the second best cobbler I'd ever eaten.

Second best? Then what was the first? Something clicked. It had peaches in it. It was made by someone very near and dear to my heart. It was something I'd eaten very often in my childhood. I could remember it! But, just as quickly as the clouds had parted they closed shut once again and shrouded my memories. Trying to think on it more would cause me to get lost in the fog again, so instead I latched onto what little I'd managed to remember.

"This is some good cobbler. It reminds me of better times." I smiled.

"It's the first time I've made it, I'm glad it turned out so good." Sugar Belle replied happily.

"Eeyup." agreed Big Mac. He may have been big, but he wasn't a big talker.

"If everyone's done, let me help with the dishes." I offered.

The dishes were a cinch, with 5 people to tackle it. two cleaners, a rinser, and two driers who put the dishes away. Granny Smith was exempt on account of her age, though I'm certain that if she wanted to she could have done everything by herself. She retired to her rocking chair in the sitting room where she'd been earlier, while Apple Bloom went back upstairs to her room to work on whatever she'd been doing before. Sugar Belle and Big Mac simply cuddled together on the couch in the sitting room, leaving Applejack to show me to the guest room.

"Well, here it is. Ah'd help you unpack but..." she trailed off.

"Thank you." I said.

The room was rather homely, and the furniture had the same stylings as the rest of the house. A double sized bed on an apple green lacquered frame sat in the middle, with an area rug that alternated red and white circles. Along the walls were shelves and drawers done in a similar green lacquer, as well as a clothes closet. The wall itself was papered with an off-white eggshell colour, on which rosebushes spiraled upwards from the floor.

"Can ah get you anythin' to make it more comfortable?" Applejack asked.

"No thank you, I'll be fine." I said.

"Well, ah'll be downstairs if you need anythin'. Ah'll also wake you up in the morning when we're gonna get to work again." she said.

And so I was left to myself for the night.

Author's Note

5 - Wondering

The morning came too quickly for my liking. I was woken by the sun streaming through the open window directly into my eyes, and I couldn't get back to sleep. I couldn't remember what had happened in my dream, but I felt a distinct sense of longing and loss. Something was gone, and I didn't know what it was.

In the distance I heard a bell ringing. Probably from the campus, signalling the start of classes. I took that to mean Starlight was already at work and that I was left mostly to my own devices. There wasn't any food in my wing's kitchen, so I wandered over to Starlight's wing to make myself breakfast. Two slices of toast with some peanut butter and honey was good enough, but I could have done with some fried eggs. There wasn't much in the way of leftovers in Starlight's fridge, although the bowl of sliced cucumbers had seemingly doubled overnight.

I had a shower, I swished around some mouthwash, and tried to figure out what to do with my day.

Could go visit those local cutie mark experts. Could head back to the Speakeasy for some music and tea. Could spend some time reading up on my ideas from last night. Maybe I could continue wandering town hoping to run into someone friendly.

Rags had said something about Saturdays at the Senior's Hall. A quick look at a calendar told me that today was Thursday. Exactly a week from today would be the Festival of the Two Sisters. Those were the only events coming up that I had any reason to attend or even look forward to. In fact, there wasn't much of anything to look forward to. If I had a job I'd mold my schedule and free-time around that, but I had no job and thus indefinitely free-time. There was so much time I simply didn't know what to do with it, if anything.

Fow a little while I let my mind wander, which brought me to think about my cutie mark. Starlight had said that every Earth Pony, Unicorn, and Pegasus had them, and that they appeared when a pony figured out what their special talent was. But my cutie mark looked like a bunch of spilled ink. What kind of half-baked talent was that? What did it even mean? Did i mean I was clumsy?

I needed an answer. Any answer. The clock said it was currently 8:43 AM. Which meant I was going to have to sit on getting that answer for a while. So instead, I needed a distraction.

Friend making it was, then.

I left the castle and started walking. Thanks to my wandering yesterday, I rough idea of Ponyville's layout in my mind. There was a central "core" around the town hall where the majority of businesses were, bordered on one side by the river cutting through town. On the south-west were the majority of the farms, followed by miscellaneous wilderness. To the east was the old town, built up along the riverside in the early days of Ponyville and mostly disused by now. To the north was the castle as well as the School of Friendship. The town's overall layout was loose, with considerable public space for parks and streetside business, all of the buildings scattered about in clusters. Almost every street was wide enough for two dozen soldiers marching abreast.

Now that was an odd observation. Did Equestria have a military? Did it have soldiers who were willing to lay down their lives in the defense of others? Was Equestria well defended? Things around here were peaceful, and there was little to no crime that I could tell. Maybe their military did their work abroad so that citizens here could live in peace and comfort.

I heard an odd noise above me, like the creak of wheels and the hiss of pistons. Then I heard something sputter. I looked up, and saw something erupt in a cloud of smoke and fire. It sailed downward out of the sky, crashing to a halt in the middle of the street. A sprocket popped off and rolled towards me before falling over.

I barely had time to register what just happened before a cloud of white foam engulfed the flaming pile. Then, a slightly charred figure burst from the foam. The figure had the tail and hindquarters of a lion, but the head and foreclaws of an eagle. It also had wings. This figure was none other than a griffon. The griffon was wearing overalls, and though she was covered in foam and soot, I could tell that her coat was a dull, dark red, and her feathers were a faded grey.

"Well that's not right, the fire suppression foam works but activated after impact." she commented. She raised her dirtied goggles from her eyes, and pulled out a notepad from her front pocket. Then, she scribbled down some notes in a script that looked to me like chicken scratch, with a very stubby pencil.

"Excuse me," I said as I approached the crashsite.

The griffon either ignored me or didn't notice me. "Now, if instead of staying inside the craft until its inevitable conclusion, I designed a quick release ejection-mechanism in conjunction with a parachute..."

"Excuse me," I tried again, slightly frustrated.

"...that would result in a lot fewer burns and broken bones, and it would probably be useful if there were any other unforeseen problems."

"Are you okay?" I asked as I stopped directly in front of her, pushing down her notepad so she looked at me.

"Oh! Hello! Uh, yeah! Nothing I haven't been in before." the griffon brushed off my concern as she put her notepad away. Around the street, a few ponies were staring at the pile of foam and strange parts, unsure of what to do.

"What... exactly are you trying to do?"

"Fly, of course! Except right n-now I've just been crashing. And burning," she said, trying to wipe off some of the foam. "But hey, the fire suppression foam worked! Not as intended, but it still worked."

I frowned. "But you have wings. Can't you fly on your own?"

"Yes, but can you fly? I did the math, and only about half of all species known to Griffonkind can fly on their own. And what if a griffon or a pegasus was too tired, or just didn't feel like flying on their own? Sure, there are airships and hot air balloons, big ones, but any decent flier can outpace an airship." the griffon explained with enthusiasm.

"Oh, so how's that going for you?" I asked.

"I've figured out how to get things off the ground! But not for very long. And they tend to have a hard time when they come back to the ground." she said.

"That seems pretty interesting." I commented. "What's your name?"

"Gyro! My mom called me that because when I hatched all I wanted to do was look up at the sky." she smiled and stuttered and held out her claw in greeting.

"Well, I'm Ink Blot. Nice to meet you." I extended my own hoof, which she eagerly shook.

"Wanna come see my workshop?" asked Gyro.

I looked around at the wreckage in the middle of the street. "Shouldn't you do something about all this first?"

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Gyro exclaimed. She dug into the receding foam and brought out four tripods that were painted orange. She placed them around the main wreck, then connected them with rope. "Now that's that dealt with. Follow me!"

She lead me to a building in the Old Town. It was a stout, stone building, with an attached forge on the left side. The second floor - or what used to be the second floor - had been converted into a sort of runway. A series of tools and implements were lying around rather haphazardly, even though there was more than adequate hanging and shelving space for them. From the forge a ladder went up to the converted runway. On the runway was a strange contraption with a dining chair strapped to a wooden frame with two outstretched canvas wings.

What surprised me was the amount of material she had. Stacks of wooden planks, stacks of metals and alloys, buckets of uncut gemstones, bolts of cloth and a pile of miscellaneous household objects. I could pick out a few different kinds of pots and pans, at least three bread boxes, as well as a single bathroom scale.

"Welcome to my workshop! Here I'm exploring all things "Flying Machine"!" Gyro said excitedly. She stretched her claws out wide and twirled. She pointed out everything as she named them. "There's my forge, there's all my tools, that up there is the runway with the glider, here's all of my materials I'm working with. Sorry everything's so messy, I just get so wrapped up in my work sometimes."

"Oh, that's alright. A bit of mess is fine as long as you can find things when you need them." I replied.

"I always mean to tidy up, but there's always something else that gets my attention, you know? The only time I can really focus is when I'm working on something, and if I start tidying than I'm not working." she sighed.

"Maybe you should look into getting an assistant to help clean? Someone else to bounce ideas off of?" I suggested.

"Perfect, you're hired!"

"Wait, what?"

Gyro smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, just a joke. I don't have enough money to pay someone to be my assistant. Besides, I don't really know anyone around here that's interested... don't really know anyone around here at all, actually."

"Then we've got something in common, at least. I only got here a few days ago, myself." I smiled back.

"Oh, wow! I moved here from Griffonstone a few months back, I used to be a smith there but all anybody ever wanted was some sort of weapon or some piece of armour so they could go off on an adventure or start a fight with someone. Like, why would I even bother trying to make a flying machine if everygriff could already fly, maybe I could make myself useful and make a sword or a spear or an axe or a big halberd for them to poke things with?" she vented her frustrations.

"Must have gotten pretty boring." I commented.

"I'll say. It's not even that I don't like making weapons! Halberds are pretty dang cool, but when day in day out every single customer wants a custom made halberd to their exact specifications I can't help but start to hate making so many halberds. It takes me a few days straight to make one anyway, so then they come in and start squawking "Brawk, where's my halberd I neeeeeed my halberd right now, screeeeeeeeeeeee!" and it's just aye-yai-yai, I barely even started on the halberd for the guy who came in before you let alone yours!"

I couldn't help but chuckle a little bit. "Watch out, you're making me want to order a halberd."

Gyro scoffed and said "Yeah right, like you could use a halberd. Can't even hold a halberd properly with those hooves of yours."

"Well, what if I grabbed it with my teeth?" I asked.

"Then you'd have to swing your head around, and then you'd get motion sick before you even managed to hit something!"

"What if I sort of braced it on the ground and propped it up with my leg?"

"That would work, but you may as well get a spear instead of a halberd if you're just gonna do that. Less weight up at the tip and less work I need to do on it." Gyro rolled her eyes. "Besides, any doofus can make a spear."

"Could you show me some of the stuff you're working on?" I asked her.

"Absolutely, come inside." she said.

The inside of the house was mostly made up of two rooms. The smaller one, I assumed, was her bedroom. Somewhere under those stacks of half-fabricated parts and piles of papers there was a bed. Somewhere. The only way you could even get around in there was a narrow path that circled the room. The bigger room looked similar, except the mess was more concentrated to edges, seemingly to make space for a prototype flying machine that sat in the centre of the room.

The prototype itself was... enigmatic to say the least. Part of it was wood, part of it was copper, part of it was brass. There was something that looked oddly like a boiler, which was rigged by pipe to a small compartment with pistons and a propeller. It had two long wings that were folded upward, made of wood and canvas like the glider up top was. I couldn't see any way to actually heat the boiler, and there were a bunch of bits that didn't make much sense to me.

"What's this?" I wondered.

"Oh, that's one of my older prototypes. I was building off of the glider frame and concept, but ran into troubles getting it off the ground. In theory the boiler runs the pistons which powers the propeller, but a big enough boiler was too heavy for the original glider. So, I tried making one with bigger wings that could hold the boiler. But then the propeller had to work harder, and everything just got worse in a big long loop. Basically the main problem with working off of a glider design is that a glider needs either a good wind or a lot of push to get off the ground for any length of time - once you're in the air all you need to do is ride the currents. If it's too heavy it can't ride the air so well, it just falls and crashes." Gyro explained happily.

I semi-understood what she was talking about. "Like the one earlier today?"

"No, that was a few different experiments all at once. I figured I could try doing something inspired by fireworks, with an ignition propellant, but then I ran into the trouble of trying to stay aloft. So I added pedals to turn a roof mounter rotor with a gear system to make that as easy as possible. But then the propellant had a tendency to light the entire frame on fire, so I added a fire suppressant system. But then adding the fire suppressant system meant that I had to activate it manually, which meant i took my paws off the pedals, which meant I started losing altitude. So I tried to make it trigger automatically. Hasn't quite worked as intended, yet."

"Do you crash a lot?" I asked.

"Do you ask a lot of questions?" Gyro countered. "I don't really mind that much, I actually like answering questions about my projects, but usually ponies like you get weirded out and ignore me."

"Well, I can see you're pretty passionate about this, so I wanna hear what you have to say." I answered.

"Oh. Thanks." said Gyro. I don't think she knew what to say. A silence began to grow between us. So I started thinking.

The idea of flying machines resonated with me, for some reason. I had a feeling that it was linked to some sort of memory, but one that was pretty deeply tangled in with the whole curse thing. Flight meant mobility, and mobility was key to responding effectively to threats. Flight also meant that you would have the combat advantage against anyone on the ground below you. I couldn't fly, but griffons like Gyro could. Pegasi could. A company of fliers could outmaneuvre the enemy and flank them, engage them away from fortified defensive positions. Having flying machines would allow higher mobility for any non-flight-capable troops.

Of course, this assumed that we'd be able to build a working machine. Then, ponies like me could rise to the skies.

"Wait, what do you mean "ponies like me"?"

Gyro began to sputter. "Oh, uh, you know... ponies with, uh, magic. Unicorns. Pegasi can fly, so they sometimes ask a few questions, and the Earth Ponies like to keep their hooves on the ground no matter what. But, um, Unicorns can do magic and all that kinda stuff. There's spells that give you wings, and like, a hundred other kinds of magic I don't really know about."

I blinked at her. "I... don't really know how to use magic. Like at all" I admitted.

"What? But I thought you could all turn apples into oranges and stuff like that!" Gyro said.

"I mean, there's probably a way to do that, but I have no idea how."

"What about telephonesis? Where you move stuff around with your mind?" she asked.

"I think that's called "telekinesis. And I don't know how to do it." I replied.

Gyro seemed confused. "...Not even a little?"

"No," I shook my head. "Not even a little. I've been doing everything with mouth and hooves and a little bit of balancing things on my knee. This pointy thing may as well be a dagger I strapped to my forehead." I said, and tapped my horn.

"And probably is as useful as a dagger strapped to your forehead. I can't imagine not having my claws."

I shrugged. "Earth Ponies seem to do it just fine, and they don't even have the benefit of having telekinesis. Though I do wonder what it'd be like to have claws like yours."

"Maybe you could..." she trailed off.

Gyro picked up a piece of paper that had some calculations on it, then flipped it and started sketching something out with the same stubby pencil she'd been using earlier. She also picked up a tape measure, then before I could say anything she took measurements of my front legs and hooves, which she scratched onto the paper as well.

"What are you doing?" I asked, slightly offended at her disregard for personal space.

She didn't respond at first, focused on scrubbing a drawing off of her big chalkboard. She made a rough sketch of a pony's fetlock, then glanced at me before writing down something in letters that looked oddly like chickenscratch. "I've got an idea. Give me some time to work it out and fabricate some prototypes. Not 100% sure it'll work, but hey! A new project that doesn't involve me bursting into flames hundreds of metres in the air!"

"What's it going to be, exactly?"

"That's a surprise! At least until I show you the first design. Then I'll need you to come in regularly for fitting and sizing and all that jazz." Gyro quickly explained, practically pushing me out of the drafting room.

"Oh, um, well..." I sputtered trying to figure out what to say.

"Come check in on Saturday! I'll have something by then!" she shouted at me shortly before loudly slamming her front door, which caused several piles of stuff to collapse.

I was left on the front step, and more than a little confused.

Finding my way to the secluded treehouse wasn't very difficult. We'd actually passed by it while we were applebucking, but I didn't think much of it at the time.

Thinking of it now, "local experts" operating an office out of a treehouse didn't seem too professional. Assuming someone did try converting a treehouse into some sort of office, it would be novel but not terribly practical. Depending on the exact size of the treehouse there wouldn't be much room for more than two or three desks. I mulled that over while I popped by the Speakeasy and shared lunch and music with Rags and Ginger.

My suspicions were proven when I saw the treehouse with fresh eyes. It was nested within the branches of a large, stout apple tree, and was about half the size of my bedroom. It was a fairly simple house design, gabled roof with a bit of an overhand along the edges, made from old lumber that had been painted over once or twice. It was accessed by two ramps, which lead to a walkway with a railing that went all around the outside of the house, with a second set of ramps that lead higher into the tree, eventually to a sort of turret. The door, as well as the shutters, had these heart-shaped cutouts near the tops. From the turret peered a single telescope, pointed towards town.

Not having anything to lose, I walked up the ramps to the closed door, and knocked.

There was a pause, then I heard the excited clip-clopping of at least three sets of hooves. It stopped just at the door, and I could hear a bit of hushed discussion. Not well enough to make it out, but well enough to know that the "local experts" were quickly debating what to say or do.

Sooner than I'd expected, the door burst open to reveal three kids - or rather, three foals.

"Good mornin', and welcome to the Cutie Mark Crusaders clubhou--" began a familiar looking filly. She looked at me and furrowed her brow. "Wait, Ink Blot?"

"Applebloom, you know this guy?" asked her friend to my right. She was an orange pegasus, with a short and spiky purple mane and tail.

Applebloom nodded. "Sorta, he was helpin' with th' applebuckin' a few days ago. AJ let him stay in th' spare room."

"I was told that you three are the local experts on cutie marks?" I tentatively asked. They were just kids, and somehow I didn't have much faith in their abilities.

"Oh, then you'd better come in." said the other friend on my left. So I did come in. She had a white coat, though her curly mane and tail were two-toned light purple and pink.

The inside of the treehouse was cluttered, but it was the kind of cluttered that you got when a space was lived-in as opposed to just being a mess. It was much tidier than Gyro's place, is what I was trying to say. There was a nice set of mismatched curtains, a single old-style oil lantern that hung from the ceiling, and a dusty podium that had been shoved into one corner. There were several shelves with various arts and crafts supplies. Along the back wall was an assortment of papers and charts that had been drawn up, with various things crossed out on them. Most telling was a collage of various photos on a backing of three-toned construction paper, each picture having one or more of the three fillies in it.

Now as for the "office" part, that was made up of two crates laid out in the centre of the room, with one chair on the closest side and three arrayed on the opposite. There were a few miscellaneous papers laid out on the boxes, most of them with unintelligible scribblings on them. It more resembled the idea of an office than an actual one.

"Go on, take a seat." said the white and pink one. I did. The chair was just slightly too small for me to sit comfortably, but I made the best of it. "Tell us about your problem."

"Yeah, I was told you're the local experts on anything related to cutie marks. You are, right?" I asked.

The orange and purple one piped up. "Yep, we're the Cutie Mark Crusaders. I'm Scootaloo, that's Sweetie Belle, and you already know Applebloom."

"For awhile, we were just three blank flanks tryin' ta figure out what our cutie marks were. We did just about everythin' we could think of." Applebloom explained.

"Carpentry, journalism, dentistry, accounting, crochet." Sweetie Belle listed as she sat in the middle chair across from me.

"None of it really stuck, you know?" Scootaloo added, from the windowsill where she was leaning.

"Then we noticed that even though we were tryin' so hard to find our special talents, we ended up helpin' a whole lotta other folks find their marks instead." continued Applebloom, sitting down beside Sweetie Belle.

"Which is exactly what our special talents were all along!" Sweetie Belle finished happily. She and Applebloom both flashed their cutie marks at me, followed shortly by Scootaloo as she joined them at the desk. All of them had extremely similar cutie marks, that being a unique device displayed on a tricoloured shield. Applebloom had her apple with a heart inside, Sweetie Belle had a star with a music note inside of it, and Scootaloo had what looked to be a wing with a lightning bolt inside it.

"Since then, we've been doing our best to help out as many ponies as we can," Scootaloo said. "I'd say it's been turning out pretty well."

Sweetie Belle then turned to me. "Which of course must be why you're here. You need our help with something cutie mark related."

"I just have a few questions, is all. About cutie marks." I said.

"What, didn't you learn about cutie marks in school?" Scootaloo scoffed.

"That's the thing," I rubbed the back of my neck and grimaced. This whole memory loss thing wouldn't be that much of a secret much longer if I told everyone I met about it. But, if I didn't tell the Crusaders then my story would have a pretty big hole in it. "Apparently I have some sort of curse that's caused me to lose my memories. If I did know about cutie marks at some point, I can't remember it. Any of it."

"Curse?" asked Sweetie Belle.

"Yeah, yesterday Applejack took me to see Starlight Glimmer, who did some sort of memory magic and found out it's all blocked by a curse."

"You could go see Zecora. She knows all about curses and weird magic." Scootaloo suggested.

"Just watch out for th' Poison Joke. That stuff's rough." Applebloom also said.

I nodded. "Okay, first question. I know what a cutie mark is, but I'm not all that sure what they do."

"A cutie mark represents somepony's special talent, right? When you're born, you don't start out with one. As you grow up, you explore different things, and eventually you explore something that you really enjoy or are good at." Sweetie Belle explained.

"Usually it's a bit of both." Applebloom said.

"When you figure out your special talent, your cutie mark appears. Once you have your mark, you have a cute-ceañera to celebrate. It doesn't do anything on its own, but I'm pretty sure the three of us know how big of a wake-up call it is." Scootaloo added as she shared a knowing look with her fellow Crusaders.

"So, in some ways getting your cutie mark makes you happier?"

"Well, yeah!" Sweetie Belle affirmed.

"That all makes sense, I guess," I sighed. "I can't help but wonder though, what does my cutie mark mean? What exactly is my special talent?"

I turned my head to stare at my cutie mark. This bloody ink stain. What did it mean? What kind of so-called special talent was represented by some stupid spilled ink? Probably wasn't even good quality ink. Looking at it made me frustrated, but that frustration soon gave way for a sprouting seed of anger.

The Crusaders glanced at eachother. I don't think they knew how to react, or how to answer my question.

"Well, what do you think your cutie mark is?" Scootaloo asked.

"I don't know what I think. It looks like a bunch of ink got spilled on me, and I know it's not ink." I shook my head.

Sweetie Belle frowned. "Maybe it's a metaphor?"

"I don't follow."

"Well, what happens when you spill ink on paper?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"It gets stained." I replied.

Sweetie Belle floated over a fresh inkwell, as well as a blank sheet of paper. She wrote the words "Ink Blot's memories" on it, then immediately dumped the contents of the inkwell on the paper. The ink mostly splashed onto the paper, but a lot of it sprayed outward. There was ink all over the crates, over the paper, over the nearby floor, and all over the four of us.

"What the heck, Sweetie Belle?" Scootaloo angrily asked.

Sweetie Belle blinked, her white coat spattered with black ink. "I don't know what I expected." she replied.

"No, no, you've got a point," Applebloom said. "If th' curse is messin' with his memories, maybe as a side effect it's coverin' up his cutie mark."

I touched the ink that was now splattered across my front. "I just hope that the curse doesn't erase any of my memories permanently. Ink stains can be pretty hard to get out."

"You could have at least warned us before you dumped that out." Scootaloo shook her head as she went to fetch some rags.

"How else was I supposed to make the metaphor stick?" Sweetie Belle questioned.

While my uncertainty wasn't gone, what she'd said made sense. It even gave me a faint hope. Any hope, no matter how faint, was something to cherish. Hope could get you through the dark times when everything seemed bleak, and while these times were in no means bleak, that little bit of hope helped put me at ease.

"Thanks. It's not much, but I think it'll help me a little bit." I said while they started to bicker.

"I'm glad we could help!" Sweetie Belle responded with a smile, but was quickly distracted by a snide comment from Scootaloo.

I excused myself and went home for the day. My evening was quiet and uneventful, so I treated myself to a cucumber sandwich for my supper before shuffling myself off to bed.

14 - Flying

"Chocks in place. Harnesses fastened. Water's tight and boiler's hot. Engaging rotors. Crew of the X-13 Dragonfly, standby for departure."

The bronze boiling vessel behind me radiated heat, which I could feel through my seat. I shifted around in the overalls that Gyro had provided me, slightly uncomfortable in the stiff denim. There was a metallic clunk! as a gear snapped into place. Above us, the twin rotors began to spin, and I could feel the rush of air.

"Rotors at target speed. Boiler at stable pressure. Rotor controls prepped and responsive. Crash foam pressurised and ready to deploy," Gyro looked at me and lowered her goggles. "Ready to change your life forever?" she asked.

I nodded decisively, lowering my goggles as well.

She smiled and laughed, "You're gonna love this, Inks! Chocks disengaged, standby for liftoff!"

The wooden frame began to creak, a steam valve discharged. The rotors span faster, faster, even faster! Time slowed to a crawl as I felt the wheels begin to part from the ground, the weight of the vehicle shifting to compensate. I watched every movement, every bell and whistle, my heart pounding in my chest. What if something went wrong? A sprocket falling, a pin loosening, a brace coming undone.

...but nothing happened. We lifted off without incident, climbing into the sky above Ponyville.

"Holy shit!" I said breathlessly. I could see it all! The whole town, from the Apple farmstead to the train station, to Sugarcube Corner, to the Town Hall, to the forests at the north and south. We weren't high enough to reach the clouds, not yet at least, but everything seemed so small!

"I told you it would change your life!" Gyro shouted over the rotors, "Now let me show you a trick or two, engaging Glide Mode!"

The rotors slowed, the X-13 hanging in the air for a moment. Gyro pulled a lever, and the rotors spun forward, and suddenly the design of the craft clicked for me.

The X-13 was named for and built like a dragonfly -- except its wings had been replaced by two large rotors, one on each side. Those rotors spun in opposite directions, and could be controlled individually to turn the craft. Gyro had the controls well in her claws, deftly maneuvering us through the air. The lever that she had just pulled? It changed the rotor configuration from vertical to horizontal, and instead of bringing us up they now brought us forward. The spars that attached the rotors to the main body of the craft, while they had seemed oddly shaped while they were on the ground, acted like the wings of a glider, light enough and wide enough to let the craft ride the air current with the assistance from the twin rotors.

"Hang on!" Gyro shouted as she fiddled with the controls. The nose dipped down, angling towards the ground. It began to built up momentum as Gyro angled it back up... and up... and up. Soon it was entirely vertical, starting to slow down. But she didn't let it hang, she stayed her course and it continued on its way to finish the massive loop. With a deft sideways flick of the twin throttles we went for a stomach churning roll. All the while we climbed higher and higher, until we could almost touch the clouds. I scrambled, trying to brace myself in the cockpit, but Gyro laughed and said "Don't worry Inks, she handles like a dream! Wanna give her a go?"

I couldn't say anything, so I tried to shake my head. Gyro didn't respond, so I turned to look at her. I just about screamed at what I saw.

She was unbuckling her harness, and climbing out of her seat, holding onto the frame of the aircraft with one paw. "I warmed up the seat for ya!"

"Actually I'm fine-"

The X-13 suddenly dropped, this time I did scream. We'd hit a cold air pocket, and fell for a few metres, being buffeted by turbulence the whole way, before smoothing out again with one last jolt. I groaned, and looked back to the pilot's sea-

Gyro was gone.

That wasn't good.

I jerked around frantically, trying to spot where she'd gone. I couldn't find her. Oh god- I couldn't find her! What in the goddamn was I gonna do? The X-13 teetered in the wind. The controls drifted to the side, and we began to list.

Shit.

I slammed the buckle on my harness, desperately trying to hit the release button. I threw it off as soon as I could, shuffling from my seat to the pilot's seat, rebuckling the harness around myself. Every second counted.

The aircraft was now nose down in a dive, plummeting to the earth. I looked over the controls in a mad attempt to figure out what to do. Brass dials and wooden levers, even though I'd been watching Gyro effortlessly work them less than a minute ago I had no idea where to start. The twinned throttle was probably worth a shot.

I activated my claw device, gripping the throttle, pulling it towards myself. I strained and strained, but the claw didn't have the dexterity or the strength I needed to move it quickly. Slowly and painfully the craft lifted its nose, but would it level out in time?

The ground approached swiftly. In Ponyville below I saw ponies lining the streets. Some of them were pointing, looking up at the strange construction of wood and metal as it soared through the sky. If this thing didn't lift any faster it'd splatter against the ground with me inside it. I pulled harder, but to no avail.

What else, what else? Time was running out. Wait... I could try and change to Hover mode, which might give me the edge I needed! With my other hoof I clumsily felt for the lever, but I didn't know which one was which. But then I remembered, Gyro had only flipped one of these levers. That meant that the lever out of position would be the one.

Except there were two of them. Unlabeled. With no time to lose, I pulled one at random - nothing happened. So, I pulled the other one. It was stiff, bloody stiff. I couldn't move it with all of my weight.

No dice, I was still falling and the mechanism didn't want to change to Hover mode.

But then an idea formed in my mind. I needed to work with the fall, not against. Exponents, negative exponents, when graphed they modeled exponential decay. I needed to do that with this damned deathtrap, bottom out at just the right time so that I became parallel to the ground. It was basic math, a child could have come up with it, it happened all the bloody time. Except if I didn't do it right I was gonna die.

I kicked the throttle, causing the X-13 to jerk to the side, and unbuckled myself from the harness, but not before latching and locking the claw device onto the frame of the cockpit. When I was sure it wasn't going anywhere, I crawled over and kicked the throttle from the opposite side.

Success! The throttle jerked the craft in the direction I wanted it to, beginning to properly nose up. I grinned, and did it again. And again.

The ground was close now, almost too close for comfort. I was flying full tilt down the main street, far ahead of me ponies scrambled to get out of the way, to move carts, to move stalls, but I wasn't in danger of hitting any of them. My heart felt like it was going to explode, but now I had the situation under control. Little by little I inched myself closer to the ground. It was at that point I realised what the other lever had actually done; I'd lowered the landing gear, and the wheels, which kissed the ground momentarily, bouncing the craft into the air. I did my best to compensate, angling away from the ground. It bounced again, but this time it stuck to the ground, and the wheels whirled with incredible speed. I applied the breaks, which was little more than a log being pressed into the ground from behind the wheels, but it helped slow us down.

The speed slowed gradually, until the X-13 Dragonfly rolled to a stop. I blinked and breathed a sigh of relief, not quite believing what had happened. Hesitantly, I stepped out of the cockpit, unlatching my claw device. My legs shook, but I did my best to stand strong. I had just taken over piloting a prototype aircraft midflight, and successfully landed it without assistance. I was either incredibly gifted, or incredibly lucky. I didn't really feel like either, to be honest.

"Ink Blot!" someone shouted from behind the landing zone. I looked, and was shocked to see Gyro running over.

"Gyro, what in the goddamn..?"

Sheepishly, she replied in a blur "Okay, so that wasn't entirely what I had planned for you! I was gonna let you take over flying, but that, uh, hot air pocket knocked me off the X-13. I tried to get back on, but it was going too fast for me to catch up with. I was about to write it off as a failure, but then I remembered that you were still inside it, and that you couldn't fly. So! I, uh, kinda hoped for the best. Hope you aren't angry or anything, because everything that happened after I fell off was outside of my control. And you could have died. Unless you activated the fire foam, which would have increased survival probability. Other than that, you flew pretty good."

"Please never do that again." I sighed.

"Oh, no, I would never leave an unfinished prototype in the claws of someone who'd never flown before."

"You just did," I pointed out.

"I would never intentionally leave an unfinished prototype in the claws of someone who'd never flown before." Gyro clarified.

"That doesn't make it any better." I shook my head disappointedly.

"Also! I finished your new claws! Wanna see?"

Gyro piloted the prototype back to her workshop as I sat gingerly in the copilot's seat. I didn't need to prompt her to fly carefully; it seemed she'd been more than a little shaken by the experience, more than she was letting on. Thankfully, I'd thought to grab my borrowed saddlebags before I'd left the castle, so I was prepared for the day either way.

She led me around back, not to the inside of her workshed (which seemed to have doubled in size since I'd last seen it), but to a small table around the back of it, nestled between haphazard piles of material. There was a stained rag covering the table top, which is where I presumed the new claw device was stashed.

"Behold," Gyro said with gravitas, "The Claw Device, V-7!"

With a flourish, she threw the rag off of the table. The new device was... a boot of some kind. A pale golden boot.

"A... boot?"

"Not just a boot, this one has hidden claws! Observe!" she smiled, taking up the boot.

The design was interesting. Very interesting. Unlike my current set, the retracted claws on the boot were completely flush with the rest of the metal, indistinguishable from various decorative features on the boot's exterior. The adjustment dial was shaped and positioned differently, and some of the decorations seemed a little odd to my eyes. Gyro rambled on about small technical improvements, but a lot of it went over my head. Gearboxes, springs, even the thread density on the screws she was using.

"Ah, but I'm sure none of that is particularly interesting. So! The actual mechanical improvements that will make the user experience more enjoyable! See here, I modified the dial's shape so that a pony mouth could easily grip and adjust it. Better than using your other hoof, no? It's also setup like a ratchet, turn this tab left or right to change which way the dial ratchets to. There's also a fineness knob, it adjusts how rough or fine the dial it adjusting. The highest will change it from retracted to full close in less than a second, the lowest will change it by less than a milimetre," Gyro explained, indicating each function as she undid screws along the boot's length.

"That's all very convenient, but we'll just have to see how useful it is."

"As the sole investor, QA tester, and consumer, I assure you that you are free to come back to me with suggestions at any time at all. Even in the middle of the night, because sometimes I can't sleep and decide to work on things until I pass out again."

"I think I did something similar over the last 24 hours." I commented.

She smiled briefly before continuing on with explaining her design "At first I was going to make it from steel, then I realised it was too heavy like that. So I designed my own aluminum-nickel-bronze alloy, it sacrifices a bit of strength but it makes it so much lighter and also resists corrosion as a nice bonus. I briefly considered using brass, but it melted too quickly when I put it under stress testing. The melted lump of it is still around, somewhere. As for it being a boot rather than a sort of gauntlet like the last one, I thought it looked nicer."

"Won't I look a little odd with only one boot?" I asked.

"That's why I made two claw devices!" she said excitedly, revealing a second boot. "Now with opposable thumbs! Try them on!"

Eagerly, Gyro helped me into the boots. This was a more involved process than the previous design, and it required a sort of protective sock to be worn over my forelegs. Gyro then tightened the screws she'd loosened earlier, adjusting the fit as closely to my comfort as she could manage.

"Even though they're mostly water proof, please take the boots off to bathe and remember to replace and launder the protective socks regularly. The metal may get scratched or smudged, which doesn't really affect the overall function, but if you have the time take care to polish it back up. Do not put away the blades if there's blood on them, that'll cause them to corrode inside the mechanism," Gyro said.

"Wait, blades?"

Without blinking Gyro lifted my foreleg and pulled a small tab that I'd dismissed as an artistic decoration. Almost instantly, a five inch blade sprung out, startling me.

"It's spring loaded! And if you turn this other tab here, it'll allow you to retract or adjust the blade length with the same dial as the claws themelves. Make sure to keep them sharp."

I held up the blade, and looked at it, turning my leg and seeing the blade gleam in the sunlight. "How did you manage to fit this into the boot?" I asked skeptically. It didn't feel nearly as heavy as it looked, and that made me suspicious.

"Believe me, it was real tough. To fit the blade in, it had to be tall, and all the mechanisms had to work around the blade stowage compartment. Almost went insane trying to route it all, twice. Then I had to redo it because I accidentally locked the blade in the forward position and couldn't retract it without accidentally stabbing something when the mechanism got caught on itself. Really, it's a miracle I got it to work like this at all! The one before this was patched together with broken dreams and lost wishes. Also, stabbing random strangers in the streets with hidden blades is a federal crime, so watch out for that I guess."

"Wait, federal crime?"

"Now let's talk about my flying machine! It works! X-13 works!" Gyro cheered.

"You said something about a federal crime?"

"Don't worry about it, I know a good lawyer. Ignoring the fact that you could have died, how was flying?" she asked excitedly.

I shrugged. "There was a lot of panicking. The amount of levers and dials there were? Too many, and none of them were labeled. The throttle didn't respond very well while in Glide Mode, and of course there was the issue that the pilot was ejected from the aircraft prematurely."

"That last one was my bad, but the others will be taken into further consideration. And technically it's not a throttle, but you wouldn't know that anyway. Are there any features you'd like to see implemented in the future?"

"Dual controls. A linked set for the pilot and copilot, in case one or the other is incapacitated. Cargo space, passenger seating, while keeping it rugged and reliable." I listed.

"All noted for later," Gyro said as she scribbled madly into her notebook. Without another word, she ducked inside her workshop.

Awkwardly, I sat there, playing with the controls for the new claw boots. They were a little less unwieldy than the previous one, and there was a welcome symmetry in having two over one. And the hidden blade was a welcome feature, though I would need to spend time practicing how to use it properly. I hoped I wouldn't ever need it.

However, there was something nagging me. A feeling. Not a pleasant one. It was like I was being watched.

It's because I was being watched. Not from the rooftops, but from the shadows. As casually as I could manage, I stood up and stretched, covertly looking at my surroundings. I didn't see any movement, which meant that whoever was watching was either well hidden or well disciplined.

But why was I being watched, now of all times? There had to be a reason. Maybe it was the stunts we'd pulled earlier? Perhaps. I wouldn't have bet on it, considering that Gyro had been running her tests for a while now. Was there any other reason? The only difference between now and most of the other times I'd been out and about. Today, I had the saddlebags with me. They were packed with various things I thought I'd have need of over the course of a day, mostly emergency supplies for wilderness survival. Except...

Except for that odd brass telescope-thing I'd found in the town hall last week. I'd put it in my bags when I'd left the castle, for some reason. With all of the other things going on, I'd forgotten about it. And the observer from the roofs.

It was all I had to go on, and until I got more information. A second mystery to add to my own personal troubles. Until I had an idea of what I was dealing with, I would continue on as if nothing had happened. But I still needed to actually fin that information, and I probably wouldn't find it inside a book. At the very least it would give me something to focus on other than the magical parasite currently occupying my mind and soul. The only lead I had was the telescope-thing. What was it? What was it for? Why did I find it in that disused room?

Perhaps Gyro knew.

I went inside the workshed, carefully closing the door behind me. "Hey, are you busy?" I asked.

Gyro looked up from a slab of wood that she was planing flat. "No, just doing some wood work. Question about the claw boots?"

"No, but it is a question," I shook my head. I reached into my saddlebags, and removed the burnished brass device, placing it on the wooden slab. "What is this?"

"Oh, that's a camera lens. Fancy one too, it's got some nice thread density. Where'd you find it?"

"I found it in a hidden room in the town hall. What else can you tell me about it?"

"Right, you've got that whole lost memory thing going on. Forgot about that. No offense, of course," Gyro chuckled, "Most camera lenses are artisan made, done to the specification of the photographers. I briefly considered it when I came to Equestria but it's a lot of sitting at tables all day hunching over tiny bits of metal and glass and it's just not worth the back pain later in life, you know?"

"Right, right, is there a way to tell who made it?"

Gyro thought for a moment, looking over the piece. "If you go to a reputable craftsgriff then it'll generally have a maker's mark in some out of the way spot. I do it myself on pieces that I'm rather proud of, lots of weapons out there with my mark on them. I had a few kids I taught how to smith, passed the old business onto them when I decided I was done in Griffonstone. Now I'm here! And over here is the maker's mark!" she pointed it out, a small geometric design that twisted on itself.

"Do you recognise the mark at all?"

"Well, this smaller symbol beside it is supposed to be standardised based on where it was made, as a sort of certification. That's usually a good place to start, then you can start narrowing it down artisan by artisan. Personally? I have no idea. It sorta looks like the symbol for... let me think... Canterlot Crafts? Canterlot Creations? Definitely someone in Canterlot, at least. Unless they changed the nomenclature like they were planning to, in which case I have no idea. Probably the second thing, knowing how it usually goes."

I smiled a little, but that still hadn't answered any of my questions. "Do you know what it might have been used for? I... want to find out if there's someone I can return it to, or if I can use it myself." I quickly made up an almost plausable answer. I didn't really want to lie to her, but as soon as I knew the truth I'd share it.

"Maybe try those astronomers who rent out the upper floors of the town hall occasionally. I think they like to take pictures of the night sky, so they might need a lens with this kind of zoom. Unless they're astrologers. You know what? Take it either way. I'm sure they could use it in some kind of... hoof reading?" Gyro shrugged.

A dead end. "Well, thanks for your help. And for the new claws." I said after a brief silence.

We said our goodbyes, and I took my leave.

On my walk home, I couldn't help but be distracted. I was mulling over possibilities, brewing theories, running scenarios through my head. I didn't like being watched. Not one bit. It reminded me of one of my recent dreams. The enemy, hidden away in some bombed out shanty-town, waiting for the moment to strike. Back then I'd been young and naive, fresh and inexperienced. Unprepared for the horrors ahead.

What were those horrors? I could not say. I couldn't even think of them. Unimaginable, they were, all that remained of them were feelings of fear, revulsion, regret. I'd messed up, and someone else had paid the price.

"Hey! Hey, Inks!" shouted a voice from above me, sounding distinctly like a certain bread delivery boy.

"Ray, what's up?" I replied.

"Right now, I am! But you know what was up earlier? Gyro was up in the air with another one of her flying machines. Even managed to avoid crashing it into the ground again!" Ray said excitedly "And are those new boots I see?"

I nodded, "Just picked them up, Gyro's latest version of the bracer claws I was wearing before."

"She works fast doesn't she? I'm done work for the day, wanna go hang out some?" Ray smiled, landing beside me.

"Fine by me. Your pick."

"What about the library plaza? It's not too far, got some public seating, a very small tree" he suggested.

"Sounds lovely," I nodded in assent, and we made our way to the so-called "library plaza".

It was a large open space, where the cobbles made way for a grassy park, filled with flowers. At the centre of the grass was a single, small oak sapling. It was very open, and oddly peaceful. The buildings here were mostly residential, but for some reason there was no library building in sight. Not even a foreign language bibliothèque.

"So why's it called the library plaza?" I asked after we sat down beside eachother.

Ray smiled. "Well, you see there used a library here. Then it blew up."

"...What do you mean, "blew up"? Was there a gas leak?" I questioned him.

"So, there was this centaur who'd been imprisoned in Tartarus, dark lord of evil or something like that. Anyway, he was a centaur and got out and started sucking out magic from everypony. He was gonna suck all of Equestria, but Luna and Celestia and that new one from up north? They all gave their magic to the other new one, from here in town. I didn't actually know her, but she ran the library. Evil centaur guy comes to town, blows up the library, wrecks some stuff, then gets shot with rainbows."

"I suppose a lot of things get shot with rainbows around here, then." I commented.

"Used to be every few months something got blasted with rainbows. Now I haven't seen anything big get blasted with rainbows since just before the coronation, except of course when that old hot shot from Flight School wants to set new speed records for cloud clearing, but that doesn't really count does it? Not that it matters, but last I heard she'd gotten into the Wonderbolts." Ray babbled.

I crinkled my brow, "Are you nervous or something, Ray? You're awfully talkative."

He blushed a little. "Uh, maybe? Hey look, I've got some sarsaparilla. In my bag."

With his wings, he opened up his side pocket and removed two bottles of Sunrise Sarsaparilla, the red, orange, tan, and black logo giving it a slightly nostalgic feel. Using my new claws, I gripped the bottle and popped off the bottle cap effortlessly.

"Listen, just relax," I said, taking a sip of the foamy brew. Delicious. "Forget about what's troubling you, just sit right there and drink your pop while we talk about things that mean absolutely nothing."

"Okay," Ray frowned. "You call it pop?"

"Yeah? I guess I could call it soda, but that doesn't sound right. Not enough consonants." I shrugged.

"What do you mean? It has plenty of consonants, it's got two of them." Ray objected.

"Yeah, but an equal number of vowels, and I should have said cacophonous instead. Pop has a sharper sound that more closely resembles the sound that the bubbles make when popping."

He shrugged and quietly said, "It's more of a fizz, isn't it?"

I cracked my neck and stretched a little, using it as an excuse to take a quick look around. I settled back on the bench and smiled at my companion. "Alright, cut the act. I can tell you're not Ray."

"I was hoping you would," Not-Ray nodded, "You'll forgive me for not dropping the facade. We're not alone. Not entirely."

"I know. They've been following me since I left Gyro's."

"You shouldn't have left the castle. It would have been easier for me to find you there." Not-Ray chastised me softly.

"Gyro had other ideas," I defended.

"Always the wildcard, huh? It's not safe to talk out here, any moment now they'll notice that I've put a sound dampening spell on us so that they can't listen in."

"Where we going? Your place?" I asked.

"Not an option. I've been gone too long, they could have planted another Sending Scroll and I don't think I'd have enough time to remove it. No, we're going to a safehouse I prepared, when I first arrived here. I check on it once a month, and the alarm wards haven't been tripped. Follow my lead. On my mark, we make our move. And leave the goddamned soda behind."

I nodded my understanding. I took one last quick swig of my sarsaparilla, and set it on the ground beside the bench, where it would be easy to grab but out of the way if I had to move quickly.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. I breathed deeply, willing my muscles to relax, to untense. I needed to be focused on the task at hand. It was something I'd done hundreds of times before, willing myself to be flexible when my body wanted to be stiff. Tensing your muscles in bad situations would only raise stress, lock up your joints. When the time finally came for action? You'd have a moment of almost impeceptible hesitation before beginning to make your move. When you were dealing with a matter of seconds, even such a small fraction was important.

So I sat there, breathing deeply, muscles loose, using all of my senses as I waited for the moment.

I saw a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. The observers were moving. Not-Ray looked at me with a nod...

And he broke into a dead sprint across the library plaza! I reacted quickly, and followed right behind him as he charged down an empty side street. There was a commotion behind us, but I didn't look back.

Never look back. It slows you down.

Not-Ray ducked down a narrow alleyway, even smaller than the sidestreet. I followed. Trash bins and detritus blocked our path, which he deftly leapt over. I was not so deft, knocking down one or two bins and nearly tripping over myself, but a small burst of emerald green magic lifted me to my feet. The alley exited out onto a thoroughfare, which was currently full of ponies going about their late afternoon business. We squeezed through a stall and into the crowd, hoping to lose the observers, before ducking into another alley.

This one twisted strangely between buildings that had been butted up against one another, going this way then that. My heart sank as Not-Ray led me into a dead end.

"We're not done yet, I'll boost you!" he said urgently.

He crouched down, creating a platform with his forelegs, which I stepped onto. With in-equine strength he thrust me upwards, onto the straw thatched roof of the buildings above us. I scrambled for purchase, my hooves digging into the weathered thatch, and Not-Ray flew up beside me. He turned, and built up speed before leaping across to the balcony of a nearby building. With no other option I followed, rolling from my hooves onto my side as I landed. He kicked in the balcony door's lock and rushed inside.

The balcony led into a bedroom, which thankfully was empty. The lights were off and I assumed that the owners were away. Not-Ray wasted no time, and rushed through the rest of the house, and out its back door.

I hadn't noticed earlier, but he was leading me into the old town, which was as quiet as it ever was. This back street was obviously disused, with a few ramshackle sheds and hovels dotted around. He carefully closed the door behind him, and took me across to what looked like an old warehouse. With his magic, he formed an emerald green key, which he inserted into a locked door. The door opened inwards, ghosting on deceptively well oiled hinges. He guided me inside, then closed the warehouse door.

"Is this the place?" I asked. It was old and rundown, the roof sagging slightly, smelling strongly of some kind of mold. Discarded shipping containers littered the floor, in various states of disrepair.

"Not quite. This is the first layer of secrecy. This place was last used 50 years ago, when the railroad went in and the river trade dried up. Used to send boats and barges full of trade goods, get offloaded and stored here. The rights to it are owned by the Rich family, who haven't been able to do anything with it because it's a heritage building. Word on the down low was that it was going to burn down mysteriously, but it had something very convenient for me." Not-Ray explained, his disguise beginning to flicker.

"And that is..?"

Not-Ray's disguise lowered, revealing the insectoid face of Quill the Changeling. He led me into a side room, that once served as a cleaning cupboard. He lifted up a section of floor -- a trap door hidden under the cleaning supplies. "Access to the old underground network. Tunnels all over town, built by Diamond Dog bootleggers during the three decade long Cider prohibition. What I cared most about is the deep tunnel, that goes under the river to the Everfree. There are hidden rooms and access points across most of town, though a lot of them have been blocked up and forgotten. I know because I checked them from this side."

"I'll bet that one goes directly to the Apple family farm, and one to the Speakeasy." I commented.

"Those are two of the only ones left open, though they're hidden pretty well. Very few ponies know about them, but the ones that do think that they're unsafe and unstable. Not true, the Duggi build their tunnels to last."

"Are the Duggi and the Diamond Dogs the same people?" I asked.

"Yes, and no. They call themselves the Duggi, while the Diamond Dogs is just the pony name for the local outcast clan. If you ask a Deep Duggi, they'll decry the Diamond Dogs as rakes and wastrels, always after the next payday. If you ask a Diamond Dog, they'll call the Deep Duggi uptight and conservative, unwilling to take risks."

"Ah, I see."

Quill carefully lit an old, dusty oil lantern, and lifted it above us with his green magic. "We're heading for what used to be a basement for the old town hall, before it burnt down and they built a park on its foundation. Funnily enough that one was actually a gas leak. When I found the basement I spent a year fortifying it with everything you could need to survive, changeling or otherwise."

"It never hurts to be prepared." I replied approvingly.

"I also prepared a bug-out tunnel from the basement, in the unlikely event that we were followed."

The dark, earthy tunnels seemed to go on forever. It occurred to me that I would have become totally lost without Quill to guide me. It also occurred to me that if he wanted to get rid of me, this was the place for him to do it.

I don't know how long it took us to get there, but we eventually arrived at the old basement. It was musty, and the floor was crooked on an angle, causing everything to tilt towards one of the corners. Despite this, a few raised platforms had been constructed, to provide a level space. If you ignored the droopy ceiling you could imagine that it was an unorthodox floorplan. Various supplies were stashed inside crates and barrels, and in the far corner there was a sleeping area made up.

I stopped at the entrance as Quill went inside. Something about this felt wrong. I didn't trust that Quill, only having known me for a short time, was letting me in on this kind of secret.

"Inks? Come inside, I need to reset the wards."

I shook my head. "Quill, why are you doing this? Why are you showing me this, bringing me here?"

He sighed. "I should explain that, shouldn't I? Come in, and I'll tell you everything you want to know. Nothing kept secret. Not after today."

I still doubted him, he was after all a creature built for deception. What was there to say that he wasn't deceiving me, even now?

Nothing. I'd simply have to trust him.

I stepped inside.

As I watched, Quill seemed to relax significantly. His horn flashed several times, and an almost imperceptible barrier lowered over the basement doorway. One by one, a series of lanterns lit up across the basement, illuminating it. One was set on a side table, with two armchairs on either side. Quill sat in the leftmost one, and I sat in the one that remained.

"Well, the first thing I should say is that I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten you wrapped up in this scene." Quill said gravely.

"...What do you mean?"

"The ones who were trailing you? They were doing that because of me. They think you're a Changeling. They hunt us down."

I frowned, but suddenly it made sense to me. A species of insectoids that could seamlessly blend in with your population, kidnapping and replacing influential figures to affect a takeover of society? Of course they'd have a shadow organisation dedicated to hunting them down and eliminating them.

"How do you know?" I asked concernedly.

Quill produced a small roll of paper stored in a brass tube, nondescript and uninteresting. "This is a Sending Scroll, a magical item that records what is heard and reproduces it on its sister scroll. I know what they know, because I reversed its enchantment. They picked up on what I did, but not before I learned their plan. They were going to kidnap you, Ink Blot. They were going to interrogate you."

Interrogations. Horrible things to be in. Messy, too. Especially when the ones holding you didn't follow the laws of war. Or just didn't care.

"You say that like you know what they were going to do to make me talk."

He sighed, and shut his eyes. When he opened them again, he spoke, his voice wavering. "Ink Blot? When I came to Ponyville, I didn't come alone. There were three of us, one more than standard protocol typically encouraged. None of us answered the call for the invasion. After the wedding, there was a crackdown. They... they took Septum. Tibia and I, we tried to rescue him, but..."

His voice broke, the memories too painful. I said nothing, but extended my hoof, touching his shoulder tenderly, despite the claw boot.

"What I saw that day has haunted me for a long time. A long time. We found Septum, after dozens of others who'd been captured before him, but he'd... we tried to carry him out, but the guard was coming. Septum wanted us to save ourselves, to leave him, but Tibia refused. They bought me time to escape the prison, and so I did. Ever since I've lived in fear, waiting for them to come for me, waiting to join Septum and Tibia."

He went quiet again. Something struck a chord in me, and I immediately knew what he meant. I knew everything that was going unsaid. The emotions.

The fear. The revulsion. The regret.

The guilt.

"I know what it's like to lose a comrade." I quietly said.

"Maybe. Maybe. But us three? We weren't just comrades. We came from the same clutch, we were brothers and sisters. I'd never known what it was like to be without them, until I was too cowardly to stand and fight."

"Perhaps. But you're alive. You said it yourself, you're here because they bought time for you to escape." I rationalised.

He scoffed. "I know that. I've known that from the day they died. But I don't feel that way. Ironic, I know, the creature that's supposed to feed on emotions doesn't know how to manage his own."

"But the conflict with the Changelings is over, isn't it? I read something about a King Thorax last night."

"Thorax? He was never popular in the old hive. When the time for invasion came, he rebelled and was cast out. There's no possible way that he could have taken power legitimately. The way I see it? He's a convenient figurehead that the Equestrian princesses are using to control what's left of the hive, his talk about friendship a facade for them to root the last of us from our holes."

I nodded in understanding. The books on recent history were vague and unconvincing in their portrayals of Thorax, never quite agreeing on anything concrete. "So they think I'm one of you. Why?"

"They've been keeping tabs on me. They keep tabs on everyone in town, really, but I was trained to notice covert surveillance wherever it comes up. I never gave them any reason to suspect me, keeping to myself. I think that once the official conflict ended that were focusing on more overt resistance, not outliers like myself just trying to get by. But when you came to town... you arrived out of nowhere, and I'll bet that they didn't have any sort of files or tabs on you, so they panicked. Then you link up with a supposed Changeling? Not too far a stretch to assume that you might be a Changeling as well. You and I both know the truth, but they won't trust our word."

"Huh," I frowned, then opened up my saddlebags, removing the camera lens, "Gyro said this was for a camera, probably for the astronomical club in the town hall."

"Potentially, and I can see why she might have thought that. Very few amateur photographers need such a long lens, but for taking photos of the night sky you need a lens that's long, and then wide. This one is just long, for close-in shots from far away. Where did it come from?"

I told Quill about the secret room in the town hall.

"That makes sense. A typical post for them is up on that roof with a camera, to get mug shots without attracting suspicion. By taking that with you, they immediately became a lot more wary." Quill thought out loud.

A quiet began to hang over us as we thought about our predicament.

"While we're here, do you have any ideas on what to do with my, uh, memory problem?" I asked after a long silence.

Quill nodded. "I did some digging, and there's something experimental I can try. However, there is a small chance that it will kill you if it goes wrong."

"That's... reassuring?"

"Essentially, it shocks the parasite and causes it to lose its grip on you. However, if it doesn't lose its full grip then it'll come back at full strength. The parasite will then attack previously unaffected parts of your inner self, which would cause irreversible damage and probably kill you. While it's shocked, you'll need to do everything in your power to remove it, no matter what else happens."

So those were my options, then. Live with a parasite eating away at me, while slowly reclaiming bits of myself here and there. Die attempting to get rid of it. Or, be free of it once and for all.

Was it really worth the risk?

Yes. I wanted to know. I wanted to remember. Needed to remember.

"Do it." I said finally.

Quill nodded and breathed deeply. "If you for some reason feel... unimaginable pain because of this, know that it wasn't intentional."

"I understand." I nodded with conviction. I opened myself like I had done before, with Starlight, and with him. It was remarkably easy, though I felt a slight pressure building in my ears. I brushed it off.

Quill stood up from his chair, and turned to face me, lowering his horn to point at my forehead. The emerald green glow of his magic enveloped his horn, and extended outwards in an almost web-like pattern. It began to surround me, to form an ethereal bubble. I shut my eyes, and willed myself to relax in preparation for what was to come.

"You should now be able to hear me inside your mind," Quill... almost said, his voice breaking through my very thoughts "This is the closest any Changeling can be to another creature, a true linking of mind and soul. Normally it's meant for feeding, but today it has a different purpose. I am going to let you see what I can see."

What do you see? I asked. He did not respond, but the world in front of my eyes melted away, to be replaced with a void. It wasn't black, it was just... empty.

But then a light. It illuminated motes of stardust that drifted lazily. And then it came closer. The light came from a crystalline formation, a network of... something. It pulsed, and that's when I saw it.

Coiled around the crystal was some black sludge vaguely resembling some kind of leach or slug. Some parts of the crystal had been overtaken entirely by the creature, in others it had burrowed through like some kind of insidious mole.

"This, is your emotional root. It is found at the very centre of your being, projecting its light throughout yourself. Under normal circumstances, its light can be seen from anywhere inside your being, though it may be tempered by the dark film of logic and reason," I heard Quill say.

It's dark. Very dark.

Quill's voice echoed through the void. "Because the parasite has dampened it, feeding on the emotions. Emotion colours memories most strongly, and is inextricably linked. When you remember something, echoes of it resonate back to your root. The parasite's filth clouds your memories, because those resonations will damage it. By clouding your memories, it creates an environment more suited to its survival."

But, when I have a strong enough emotional reaction, it breaks through, causing a resonation and damaging the creature.

"Precisely," Quill agreed. "What I'm going to do will artificially create a resonation, which will temporarily dislodge the parasite"

Do it. I willed.

A few moments passed as I watched green filaments snake across the void. They began to coalesce on the crystal, pooling around where the vile creature made its home.

Slowly, I began to feel an energy, somewhere deep within. It unnerved me, made me think twice about what was going on. But I needed to do this. I needed to see my past.

The filaments suddenly began to glow, the energy I felt coursing along them towards the creature. The filaments were green, but the energy was blue. I had never seen anything like it!

But something was wrong. The energy reached the parasite, and pain shot through my body like electricity. It hurt, everything hurt. It burned. It felt like my skin was going to boil off. I could barely think!

Just as suddenly as it started, it stopped.

My vision cleared, and I blinked, once again greeted by the old basement.

The green wisps had disappeared, and Quill was cowering. "They've found us, they're here! We need to run!" he whispered with a tremble.

"Get on the ground! Surrender and you won't get hurt!" a deceptively high-pitch mare's voice shouted. I looked towards the entrance, which was blocked by two mares in suits. One of them wielded a strange device, the other's horn glowed menacingly.

I felt... different. Something had changed. I could think clearly, without anything to get in the way. The fog was gone. I was free! Quill had freed me!

But the one who had helped me was in danger, and now I needed to help him.

"Run." I said to Quill, rising to my hooves. I ignored his words as I charged towards the mares, ready to fight. The unicorn sent a blast of golden yellow energy my way, probably some kind of stunner, but I dropped flat to the ground as it passed over me, then sprung to my hooves just as fast as I'd dropped. The strange device fired off a net, but it went wide. I was now in CQC range as I tackled one of the mares, the device dropping from her hooves.

We rolled out into the main passageway, trading blows. With my booted hooves I stomped at her head, trying to knock her out. A powerful energy blast knocked me off of her and down the passageway as the unicorn mare made her move. She was running at me with something, but I rose up and adjusted my footing as she rapidly approached. I suddenly lunged under her, knicking out her legs and slipping past her, throwing her over my back.

The other mare clutched something in her mouth, creeping closer, but I jabbed at it and it jammed against the roof of her mouth. While they were both down, I briefly looked back into the basement. Quill was nowhere to be seen.

And that was what did me in. The two mares leapt onto my back, forcing me to the ground and holding me down. One remained there while the other activated her magic, forcing my limbs to the floor or the tunnel. The unicorn stepped over my head, turning to look at me as her minty green mane was illuminated by her golden magic. It was the last thing I saw before something hit the back of my head. Hard.