Glimmer

Minor priorities tended to perish when a sibling was at risk: the survivors were fortunate to simply be shuffled towards the bottom of the checklist. And Twilight wanted to fully focus, concentrate to the point where every part of her being had no intent other than guarding her brother -- but her mind had a tendency to race away from her, and to do so in too many directions at once.

She had to make sure Spike was protected. Safe. And yet, even as Starlight's corona withdrew the device fragment, returned it to the saddlebag while the community's leader waited for an answer-- the little alicorn recognized something.

A name had recently been offered to Truedawn. Her name.

The results were unexpected.

I heard everypony when Starlight said all of that. Especially the part about Spike.

Fluttershy managed to swallow back most of the gasp. Pinkie's radiating tension. Applejack's forehooves are grinding against the dirt, Rainbow's going to have a dust devil spiraling around her if she doesn't get control back soon, and Rarity's stress is so high that I can scent it. She doesn't know whether to charge the stage or race off towards the right house. If I see a flare of soft blue, she's probably trying to teleport directly there, and she knows she can't. But she'll try, even after she failed that one time. And then we'll have another patch of blue glass on the ground. If we're lucky.

I can also hear the herd.

There are four alicorns in the world. The newest has existed in her current state for less than a year, and I can safely say that she's still adjusting.

Truedawn would have just found out that one of those alicorns is here. And that kind of news should be like kicking a rock into the lake from the top of the tepui, assuming it could get through the stupid shield. There's going to be a splash, and the ripples wouldn't stop for a while. If there was even any water left post-impact.

But I'm mostly just hearing -- murmurs. A few whispers. Ponies talking to each other, trying to pass on news without raising their voices to the point where it would interrupt Starlight.

I don't think most of them know who I am.

Which means that the majority of the community was here before I changed.
...before the wedding? That's when the press first pinned down who the Bearers were...
...how old is Truedawn?

She didn't know and until Spike was safe, it didn't matter.

Trixie's backed up a little. Moving more towards the left edge. Starlight is the focal point for the audience now.
Is there a word for that? Something actors would use in the theater?

Spike would know. He loved the stage...

Focus...

"The dragon," Twilight repeated. It was a way to buy time until she could think of something else.

Starlight's eyes didn't narrow. She simply continued to regard Twilight from her position at the front of the stage.

"Twilight Sparkle," the community's leader evenly stated, "lives with a dragon. He is also frequently found traveling at her side. But -- not always. You could tell me that he remained in your home, and I acknowledge the possibility. However, I would also need to verify. Directly."

If she reached Canterlot, then she can get to Ponyville. Even if she doesn't have a direct arrival point, all she has to do is use whatever site she's got for the capital and then get on the first train going west.

...is that just the device? We know the rod -- rods? -- can shift ponies to different continents, because we used it to get here. And just about anypony could try for a series of relay points, even if the cumulative exhaustion would still mean taking two days to finish the trip. Most ponies are probably going to pass out at least twice.

But when it comes to teleporting on your own... international travel, with a single effort, would require one of the Princesses.

How strong is she...?

The current theory was that the transport would be powered by the device. The alternative was exactly horrifying enough to be temporarily postponed.

"And should I not locate him there, or be able to verify that he is, for example, staying with your parents for the duration," Starlight impartially added, "then the next step would be to determine whether he is hidden within the community." A brief pause. "It should be possible to create a working which tracks dragons. It might even be innovative."

Rarity's face twisted into a full snarl. Trixie shifted a little closer to the far edge of the stage.

"I did not see him enter," the lilac unicorn admitted as she maintained visual focus on Twilight. "But then, in consideration of a sapient's truest visual appearance only, I technically did not see you enter. Something we will be dealing with after the dragon question is answered. His location?"

Think.

He's got the necklace. Luna enchanted it to avoid being picked up by passive feel: the same as the effect on my bow. He could hide for a long time --

-- visually. The enchantments wouldn't do anything to stop a spell meant to find a dragon, and when it came to creating such a working...

...Trixie...

Something else which had to be postponed -- while still being a factor. Because Trixie might have turned on them
on me
truly turned, and that meant Starlight had the option to just ask.

He could hide...

But she knew her little brother. There was no guarantee that they were going to be sent back to the same poorly-built homes: in fact, Twilight was currently anticipating adding Truedawn to her personal list of hosting places for Prison Cells I Have In No Way Enjoyed. (Rarity, who'd picked up on the group's collective tendencies rather early, had been working on a formal ratings system.) If they didn't return, and too much time passed...

...he'll come looking.
The little knight charging off to the rescue. One very small dragon against what's nearly two hundred ponies.
He can't win.
And he'd do it anyway.
Because he loves us.
He would die trying to save us.
He would die.

And Starlight would know if Twilight was telling the truth --

-- would she?
Why isn't she bringing out more Seeds to verify my answers? Was that her entire supply? Or is she saving a few for future interrogations?

It didn't matter. Until proven otherwise, she had to assume the Seeds could be brought into play.

It's my brother.
I don't have a choice...

"...promise..." And then she had to stop, forcing decibels into her voice as feathers shook and her tail did its best to twist itself apart. "Promise you won't hurt him."

The lilac mare came forward a little more. The scoops of the still-worn trowels were now jutting out over the edge of the stage.

"I have a number of perfectly understandable inquiries regarding his biology," Starlight told the night as clouds roiled overhead and Moon slipped that much deeper into vaporous shadow. "But they can wait. So the dragon is present."

I hate myself.

Twilight suspected she was about to have plenty of company.

"Yes." The word burned her throat on the way out, scalded the tongue. And she was terrified, terrified for him, it was rising from her skin in a great invisible cloud and within seconds, the entire herd would know... "But that wasn't a promise."

Starlight was still looking at her, and Twilight forced her body to hold position. The sheer intensity in that gaze...

"My wording was, in fact, insufficiently promissory," Starlight decided. "Very well. As long as he does no harm to anypony here, then no harm shall come to him. However, I would still wish to speak with him at some point. It is always instructive to interview someone from a species which retains their freedom."

Portions of the herd softly sighed.

Free. Freedom.
You mean marks.

It had been the sound of envy.

Overhead, the clouds shifted. Perhaps there was a breeze, and there was probably rain on the way. In Truedawn, it didn't matter. For nearly all intents and purposes, the climate conditions outside the terrarium didn't exist --

-- terrarium?
Why did my mind just kick out 'terrarium'...?

Twilight didn't know. But it felt important. She had to hang onto it --

-- but there was still a certain intensity trying to drill its way through her pupils. From the front.

"Where is he?" Starlight calmly asked.

Which was when Applejack stopped grinding her forehooves against the ground.

The right one lifted, then dropped hard.

After a moment, the community leader's ears twisted towards the sound. It took another heartbeat before the head turned to match.

"A signal for my attention," Starlight conjectured. "This would be a rather poor time for contradiction through denial. And a surprising choice of candidates to make the attempt."

"That's not it," Applejack's harsh tones projected into the dark. "If we tell you where he is, then what's the plan?"

They all watched Starlight breathe. One inhale. One exhale. Second inhale --

"To bring him here," Starlight said. "Reunite the full group."

Applejack nodded. "And you'll send some ponies out to fetch him."

"As would obviously be required, yes."

"Then..." The farmer stopped, then put her body through an exacting half-shake: most of the orange fur settled back into its natural grain. "...have two of us go with your group. Because if a bunch of strangers come into the house and try to tell him what's been going on, he might not take it well. Try to run, or -- worse. But if he can hear from ponies he knows, then he's a lot more likely to cooperate."

Starlight thought it over. It was easy to watch Starlight think. Opportunities for doing so in Truedawn were plentiful and when it came to how Starlight dealt with any situation, few other options were available.

"Sensible," she finally said. "Did you wish to be one of that pair?"

"Yes," Applejack immediately replied. "He'll listen to me."

"Because," Starlight proposed, "he'll know you're telling the truth."

...how much did she learn in Canterlot?
What does she know?

It took a few seconds before Applejack could force her own features out of the hard wince.

"More or less," the earth pony eventually allowed. "And to make sure it really works, Twilight should --"

"-- she will remain here for now," Starlight stated. "But I may dispatch her if additional verbal reinforcement is required. So. You and --" she briefly glanced at all six, made a decision "-- you."

The wince saw its opportunity and quickly migrated to Twilight's face.

...right.
Well, he should listen to her, all right. It just happens to be one of the worst times for Applejack and Rarity to be doing anything together...

"To accompany them..." Corona flares briefly outlined a variety of Truedawn residents. "Go do that now."

The herd began to separate itself. Several ponies, who clearly saw no need to continue sweating their way through a warm summer night, started to shuffle out of their clothing on the spot. Pinkie automatically turned to track the movement, and so Twilight got to hear the sound of fresh nausea being swallowed back. It was probably safe to assume that at least half of Rarity's partially-blocked retching was for the actual outfits.

"And," Starlight added, "search the residences. All of them."

...and there go the signal devices.
And the translator. I don't think that's going to stay concealed for long.
There are five of them in the world and I just lost one.

Twilight dearly wanted to explain that to the Princesses. As the greatest of her problems.

"The rest of us," the lilac mare announced, "shall wait here."

Rarity forced her legs into motion. Applejack waited for the designated miniherd to finish forming, then followed. Trixie faded into the background a little more.

The chosen ones trotted away. The night fell silent again, and remained so for several minutes.
Then more minutes passed.
It was probably over half an hour now.
There was a certain question as to just when Sun was due...

The herd was patient, because they'd been told to wait. Starlight was utterly still upon the stage. Trixie might as well not have existed and as soon as Rarity got back, that was going to be the best case.

It gave Twilight time for more thoughts.

I do my own editing. An act which somepony had once described as the process of 'killing your darlings', and she had to make sure to never tell Rarity that. Rarity was likely on the verge of calling at least one pony 'darling' just to see if it would let her justify the murder.
'Too emotional'...
And in the surest sign of a writer who'd just had their natural style questioned, Bitch.

Which was when Starlight spoke.

It was an act which was initiated as a single unit. The thought was ready to go. There was no need to lead into it. Anypony who wasn't ready could presumably ask her to repeat everything.

"The current theory for your presence," she began, "is that you are investigating his appearance. Clearly you used the device in an attempt to reach the origin point."

She's not using his name. Either name. And none of the Truedawn ponies are asking questions.

"Yes," was all Twilight allowed herself.

"What was your reasoning for not attempting more complex methods of identity concealment for the full group?" Starlight's head tilted, very slightly. "She has fur dye. The simplest explanation for your own current appearance is the use of a persistent illusion. The rest of you appear to have done nothing."

"...we left in a hurry." I am entitled to a sigh. "The fragment was losing the last of its charge. We didn't have time..."

We could have done more once we got here. But the supplies were split, and there was nothing more important than finding everypony else. With no one else around...

...nopony...

...why would ponies do this...?

...no. She'd heard a few of those potential answers: the list of contributors included Luna. The real question was why they were doing it as a group.

Or -- a community.

"If you have notes on the thaum leakage," Starlight calmly said, "then I would appreciate the opportunity to review them."

"I didn't get to bring that," said a decidedly miffed alicorn.

"Pity," offered up no audible sympathy. "However, as a substitute, we can discuss your own concealment method. I did not believe you were keeping an illusion going on your own. Short-term concealment from passive feel would have been possible, but you have been posing as a pegasus for some time now --"

The news was apparently still traveling through the herd: Twilight had just picked up on multiple notes of muttered confusion.

"-- without slippage or a single sign of active casting, for an effect which would require near-constant adjustments to retain the appearance of veracity," Starlight continued. "This suggests a device. Placing it in direct proximity to the head would save a few thaums over time. I verified your hat as being normal while we were entering the community."

She paused, and Twilight briefly waited for the waterproofing treatments to be offered again.

"And where the hat has not been present on multiple occasions -- such as the current one -- you have yet to remove the mane bow," formed the actual follow-up. "This more than suggests the actual source of the spell. I wish to inspect the bow. Levitate it towards me."

So constantly wearing a bow means somepony's an alicorn.
I wonder what you'd make of Flitter.
Then again, Flitter might try to lead you on for a few minutes, just for her own idea of fun. Apple Bloom would probably just decide you were insane.
...she might not be wrong...

There were multiple reasons for Twilight to be frightened. Just about as many existed to justify the anger. At least some of the irritation came from the fact that her time as a perfectly ordinary pegasus was about to end.

No more being treated as if she was normal.

For the Truedawn definition of 'normal'.

"You are not levitating the bow," Starlight noted. "To have it completely negate all use of unicorn magic would make a rather limited degree of sense for a disguise, but does create the risk of leaving you partially helpless in an emergency. Additionally, it would be an incredible advancement in restraints --"

"-- give me a few seconds," Twilight muttered.

Don't start a fight.
We need to find out what's been going on here.
Did she do something to Trixie?
Any fight hurts our chances.
...and if Spike has one scratch on a single scale, then there's going to be a lot of hurt.

"I could negate the effect for you," Starlight didn't quite offer.

Luna enchanted this. I'd like to see you try.

There would be a certain amount of dark humor in watching Starlight make the attempt. The results from potentially witnessing her succeed started at 'terror'.

"It's behind my neck," Twilight's irritation announced. "How well do you manage with fine manipulation on something you can't directly see?"

Starlight thought about it.

"Fair," the unicorn acknowledged, and waited.

Pinkie, moving more unsteadily than Twilight wanted to hear, forced an approach.

"I can try to help."

"I..." Twilight swallowed. "...I should try to do it myself."

"All right," the baker softly said. Then, so much more softly, their empath offered up "I'm sorry..." And stepped back again.

It took three tries, none of which had her field produce any light: even the weakest unicorn in the world would have only needed a partial corona for this, and the illusion was designed to hide that level of effort. However, the first two found most of Twilight's frustrations leaking into the casting, and multiple hairs were nearly yanked out.

The bow finally came free. She floated it up to Starlight --

-- the illusion broke when the bow was three hoodwidths over Twilight's head.

Truedawn saw.

I can hear them. A lot of them didn't know there was a new alicorn. There's some shock, and more than a little confusion. But it still feels muted.

How long have some of them been here...?

Somepony was at least semi-regularly making supply runs, and perhaps that was Starlight. If so, she obviously wasn't passing along much in the way of current events.

The lilac unicorn looked down at the living conjunction of magics, and simply nodded. Then her head tilted towards the floating bow. Twilight receded enough of her field to allow the start of a turquoise grip, then released.

Starlight turned the little device over in her corona a few times.

"Ingenious," she finally pronounced. And then she floated it back to Twilight.

The youngest alicorn blinked.

"You're -- giving it ba --"

"-- as I am satisfied that its sole purpose is horn concealment, I have no need to study it more extensively at this time," Starlight said. "Should that change, I will ask for it again."

Multiple ears perked up, rotated. Hooves were approaching. And there was another sound, the sort of thing you had to know how to listen for: scales sulkily shifting across stone.

Twilight immediately turned.

Her little brother didn't look at her. He simply marched up, eyes focused on the ground with arms rigidly straight at his sides and handling claws tightly clenched into fists. And then he sat down directly in front of her forelegs, folded those arms in front of his chest, and relentlessly glared at the tiny patch of night which was being hosted by innocent soil.

Applejack and Rarity, neither of whom was really looking at the other, glanced at Twilight's revealed status and then returned to their positions in front of the stage. The Truedawn ponies who'd been dispatched to fetch Spike trailed well behind, laden with full saddlebags and back-balanced trays.

Starlight nodded. Turquoise casually took up multiple burdens, and then moved each in front of her eyes for inspection.

"These?" she asked as the first of the signal devices paraded by. "What is the purpose of carrying a high-yield firework?"

Rarity took a breath.

"They are for emergencies," the designer said.

"More specific."

"We were starting at different places within the rainforest, as separate groups," Rarity stated. "In an emergency, we would have needed to be capable of telling each other where we were."

"So a visual signal," Starlight considered.

...does she know about Spike? Hardly anypony knows what he can do unless they've been on the receiving end of a scroll. I don't think it's ever been in a single article --

-- it didn't matter. Spike was trapped inside the shield with the rest of them. And when it came what her brother could do with messages... it was the same as the palace's attempts to watch for a signal, along with nearly every other secret and the reason why they'd arrived as separate groups. All Starlight had to do was ask Trixie.

Or perhaps the performer would simply volunteer the information.

Another pony stepped forward. Starlight's corona brought silver wire and a central black opal into inspection range.

"Sensible," she immediately concluded. "You obviously had concerns about whether there was a new species in play." The translator was carefully lowered to the stage, with the glow winking out once it was next to her left foreleg. "As this is the only specimen I've ever had the fortune to see, I'll be keeping it --"

Twilight felt individual fur strands go rigid.

"-- for at least two nights," the community leader finished. "It is not an opportunity which can be allowed to casually pass. Preliminary studies and sketches, at a minimum."

Which was when she decided to smile.

"No disassembly," Starlight added. "I'm not about to risk damage. Not when there's so few specimens available for study."

She looks -- happy.
And that's how you're supposed to look when you smile. But this time, it feels like she is happy.
...I would have been happy to get a chance at studying it...

More items were brought out, inspected in turn. The tent got a long look. There was some attention paid to their canteens. Two books were declared as being out of date. The bundled raft wound up being rotated several times. Every dress, every foodstuff --

-- wait.
Where's --

"Is this all of it?" Starlight asked one of the stallions.

"It's everything we found," he replied. "And we were taking everything apart." A little abashedly, "We came back here before we put it all back together again. I'm sorry about the beds --"

"-- so they didn't bring the Elements."

"The what?" asked a stallion whose lack of knowledge for Current Events had just been matched by a failing grade in History.

Starlight steadily described them. The herd listened.

"No," arose from multiple ponies, and the original stallion finished with "Nothing like that."

"Pity," Starlight very nearly sighed.

Especially for the shield. It would have been interesting, finding out what happens when we all hit it full blast --
-- hold the reins.
I didn't see --

-- Starlight was looking at her again.

"How did you bring the dragon in?" she asked. "I know when the lockdown is being tested. There was no failure in the defenses."

"Illusion," Twilight replied.

I didn't see Linchpin's blueprints.

"Which you cast."

No. I'm not very good with illusions. I can duplicate something I've seen. Mostly. It's better if I have the original right in front of me. Illusion skill is based in artistic talent, and that's why Rarity is better than me.

But you just went through nearly all of the items we brought with us.

And I also didn't see Spike's necklace.

Maybe it didn't matter. Trixie could give that game away too, and the price for lying might be horrifically high. But any information they could keep away from the community, even for a little while...

"He entered with my group," Twilight sighed. "He was the bedroll."

Starlight nodded.

"Which adequately reframes your packing process," she acknowledged. "Very well."

She looked out into the night. Cast her gaze over the herd, and then refocused on the Equestrians.

"As your assigned quarters are temporarily disrupted," Starlight announced, "each of you will spend tonight with a member of the community. No more than one visitor in any given residence. Who has a bed available? Show of hooves --"

Applejack blinked.

"-- you're -- just spitting us up?" the earth pony broke in.

"For tonight," Starlight clarified.

With open disbelief, "That's it?"

Starlight looked her over. Applejack didn't flinch.

"I would," the community leader said, "appreciate your collective, continued contributions."

The blonde tail lashed. "...say what now?"

"'Agronomist'," the unicorn quoted. "An alternative means of saying 'farmer'. But you have clearly been studying the subject, and on a level well beyond what most earth ponies would ever care to learn. I've been told that your presence has been extremely beneficial to the community's efforts. Ideally, this should persist for as long as it can."

"You are not," Rarity's disbelief openly questioned, "going to do anything to us --"

"-- you're guests," Starlight cut her off. "And not only that, your presence may, in the best case, represent a fully unique oppor --"

The designer briefly reared up, and a herd which was already well behind her pulled back that much more. White hooves crashed into the ground.

"Can guests leave?" Rarity demanded.

Starlight's head tilted very slightly to the left, and did so as a measured response. It was almost possible to see her decide where to stop the movement, how long to let the silence linger before speaking...

"You learned of something new, and you came to investigate," she finally said. "That's the logical response. If you wish to learn why the community exists? Remain within it. Be part of it. For a time. And perhaps you'll learn. Because to depart without answers, especially those gained through personal experience, would be -- bad science."

Another smile, with this one lasting for a mere two heartbeats. And then she looked around. Surveying the herd.

"Volunteers for hosting duties," she quasi-repeated. "Solely for a night, if all beds and the rest of the search disruptions can be restored by tomorrow evening. It is decidedly late and nopony who is not on the Lunar shift should be awake for too much longer -- yes, good. Normal work assignments will resume in the morning. Somewhat later than usual, as everypony requires their normal degree of sleep. And until she and I can speak with each other properly, nopony should give Twilight Sparkle any duties which bring her too close to the shield. Or, for that matter, my workshop. So we have one bed offered up. Several more are required. More volunteers, please."

It all got sorted out. Bearers were led away. A little dragon, flanked by strangers on both sides, fumed his way down the road. The herd broke up, headed off to bed. Some discarded outfits were taken along, with others left behind.

And then there were two.

Trixie, silent and still upon the stage, watched Starlight approach her.

There was something strange about how the other mare was moving. There was a hesitance to it. Hooves dragged somewhat, broke off little splinters as keratin skidded across the wood.

The lilac mare stopped, about two body lengths away. Took a breath.

"You were right," she carefully began. "About the problems which arise when you try to learn from publications."

Trixie waited. The other mare, just a little bit smaller and considerably more uncertain-seeming, gave the breathing thing another try.

"I... can't expect you to improve on a process you've never seen," Starlight continued. "Much less one you don't truly understand."

The performer nodded.

"When it comes to learning how it's done, from a direct demonstration," the lilac unicorn went on, "there will be opportunities. They regularly present themselves. I was hoping for one in no more than a few days. And when it comes to the why of it -- you understand something of that already." A brief glance at Trixie's right hip, and then Starlight went back to regarding grey-tinged eyes. "But it's not enough. Education for the whole... it's a long process, and you are too tired to begin tonight."

Trixie managed a sigh. "Yes," she admitted. "It's -- been a rough night."

"Acknowledged," Starlight said. "I also don't want you staying with those who may need some time to reconcile your choice. And any given member of the community..." It took a second for the smile to appear. "...might keep you awake until Sun was lowered again. The welcomes for the new tend to persist for some time."

"So where do I sleep?" Trixie asked. "I'm getting a new house to myself for the night?"

Starlight shook her head. "I feel it is in everypony's best interests if you stay with me."

Trixie's eyebrows went up. Then her hips and shoulders subtly shifted, and the streaked tail slowly swayed.

"Why, Miss Starlight," Trixie half-trilled. "This is so sudden..."

This time, Starlight's head tilted to the right.

"Did you feel I needed a longer period of time to render the decision?"

Something in Trixie did its best to falter. Stage experience stepped in, tried to prop the patter up.

"You haven't even bought me dinner first!"

Then she waited for the entire thing to collapse anyway. Because Starlight had just --

-- it was as if the muscles were no longer fully connected to the skin. All four legs vibrated, and the body swayed slightly over the hooves. Ears had dropped down, flattening against the skull as if trying to listen for thoughts. And the eyes were unfocused. Trixie kept waiting for them to roll back, if only so they could see what the brain was up to.

Something -- no, everything about the mare felt... disconnected. Lost.

Trixie, who wasn't sure that making physical contact in an attempt to literally bump the other mare out of it was anything close to a good idea, with no idea of what she was supposed to do -- found a creative mind sending concepts out in all directions.

Has nopony ever...

And then she found herself using the strange moment to evaluate Starlight.

Sexually.

It was rather like evaluating the artificial aid potential of a well-shaped piece of wood from a tree growing on the side of the road. If the wood, in the middle of the actual act, started talking about all of the factors which led it to grow into that exact configuration. Followed by arranging for a formal botany lecture, just in case you needed the extra background information.

Was Starlight attractive? Factor out the inexplicable difficulty in pinning down the mare's age, and there was something about the unicorn which could have been appealing -- if she had wanted it to be. But everything about her suggested that she mostly cleaned herself because dirt could contaminate experiments, mane and tail received basic care due to the world expecting such, and when it came to personality...

There was a surprising degree of sexiness built into confidence. The powerful movements produced by the conviction of truly owning one's body and looks. Even before this, Starlight had frequently moved as if she was secretly subletting her own form. It almost felt as if the brain was currently being evicted --

-- the mare's skin seemed to tighten. Limbs steadied as ears lofted, and Starlight blinked twice.

"Upon consideration," she said, "it is possible to recontextualize my offer." Paused. "Is... that what you thought I meant?"

"No," Trixie quickly responded. "I was just kidding around."

"Kidding," Starlight carefully said.

"I wasn't trying to offend you --"

"-- you didn't." A shrug, delivered through pulses of societal pressure, was effectively birthed into the world. "Some research suggests a certain amount of humor can be beneficial to a working relationship. Or... other kinds. In either case, I'm..." The pause went on for what felt like a little too long. "...somewhat out of practice. Do you need anything to help you sleep? Strictly for tonight."

"I'll be okay," Trixie tried to assure her.

"I hope so," Starlight quietly replied. "I hope for you to be many things. To be -- free." A moment of silence, and then, "Follow me. We're going to my workshop."

"Your home is nearby?"

"I live there." Starlight carefully turned, began to trot towards the stage's off-ramp as turquoise fetched the translator. "But I never have long-term guests. So I'll need to prepare a room for you. Make it more -- suitable. Accordingly, when we reach the destination, wait outside. Please."