Glimmer

by Estee

While Loop

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Most ponies who had the chance to observe any initial flaring of the white mare's temper would make a mistake, and that was to assume that the fast-approaching avatar of death, doom, and destruction was only a minor incarnation.

The unicorn wasn't particularly large. She had inherited approximately none of her build from her physically-imposing father: her somatotype was merely a pleasant one. In terms of direct resemblance to the male parent, it was fur and eye hues, nothing more.

It means she didn't have a lot in the way of raw mass. (Still larger than the smallest of her friends, but just about every adult pony could claim that lack of distinction.) And physically, unicorns were the weakest of the three major Equestrian species. There were individual exceptions, and the mare's father was one of them -- but even the retired hoofball linebreaker (and now coach) had needed to put in three times the work in order to achieve seventy percent of the results.

Still, he looked intimidating -- if it was his desire to do so, and he preferred to amble along: a long career as a professional athlete had put him well over the normal quote for Impacts Landed, Lifetime. Neither of his daughters had the raw physical presence to intimidate a fly, and when it came to the elder of the two...

...it usually didn't matter.

Her field strength was strictly average. (The Ponyville contingent usually didn't get very far into a fight before their opponents learned about the mare's decidedly non-average field dexterity.) She didn't really know any major offensive or defensive workings. She would never have the strength of an earth pony or access to pegasus techniques. In terms of base ability to inflict physical damage... even with the horn and a full-speed charge on her side, she was the single weakest Bearer.

And so she'd compensated through becoming the single dirtiest fighter anypony had ever seen.

The mare's field strength was fully incapable of levitating an adult mare. It was more than sufficient to momentarily seize somepony's leg and adjust the position to have the hoof raised and facing outwards. This gave her a clear view of the sensitive frog at the center, and she always had sewing needles somewhere.

She twisted joints. Bit down on ears, hard. Her enemy's eyes? The minor injuries produced by kicking sand into them would heal and several moons after the blindness wore off, so would the major ones. The mare had heard about the supposed rules of combat and in the absence of any referees, had decided to ignore everything below #1: Survive. Several of the defeated had initially used a portion of their prison time to try and turn the tables, but it hadn't taken very much research to learn there was no such thing as a Brawl Crime Trial.

The mare was out of her environment. Out of sorts. The current situation had her emotionally tangled, intellectually distressed, and sleeping on sheets with a thread count of Maybe. And now she was marching through Truedawn, hooves doing their best to slam into the streets and finding both body mass and echoes unwilling to cooperate on Drama, as her eyes narrowed their focus on the target.

She needed a target. Something she could take it all out on. And the glass of the shop window, along with every travesty falsely protected behind it, was right there.

The purple tail lashed with sufficient force to straighten curls. Nostrils began to prepare for what would be lied about as the most ladylike of snorts, and the next step brought her that much closer to the door --

-- pinkish radiance coated white fur. Lifted the mare in mid-hoofstep, just a little. Carefully rotated her body by roughly a hundred and eighty degrees, and then set her down before the full-body tingling sensation of being held within a corona could finish manifesting.

The field winked out. An increasingly-shoddy hoofticure found itself pushing off from the street in what was now precisely the wrong direction, and the white mare's next hoofstep was taken at her friend's side.

"Somepony," Rarity's poorly-repressed fury failed to truly whisper, "is enjoying having her corona back just a little too much."

"We need to talk --"

"-- I was about to launch my own discussion," the designer stated. "One which had been postponed for some time, strictly due to the necessity. Because if it was not for what turned out to be our rather comical attempt at concealing our identities, I would have been inside that inexcusable lie of a clothing store on my first day here. Providing -- constructive criticism. About styles. And fabric choices. Color selection. Not leaving unwashed white cotton exposed to Sun's light in a display window because it yellows, Twilight: steadily, unstoppably, and toward a hue most suited for the contents of a toilet trench."

The little alicorn, who'd been watching Rarity's rib cage, noted the fresh inhale and seized her chance.

"-- because I just spoke to --"

"-- of course, I undoubtedly would have needed to explain why I am in a position to offer corrections," the designer half-sighed. "I did notice a number of things last night, and one of them was that very few of the locals seem to know who you are. And as you're the one most likely to be recognized -- in fact, when outside Ponyville, you're usually the only one who is -- I anticipated that I would wind up detailing who and what a 'Rarity' was. And the Boutique. Probably not where I'm from, though. I've only seen one senior so far. So the count of those who potentially could have been here long enough to predate Ponyville is rather low."

Another breath, and the librarian tried again. "-- Snap --" Stopped. Blinked. "You saw a senior?" She'd seen young adults, middle-aged ponies, and there still hadn't been a single foal or child -- but the elderly...

"Mare. Somewhat younger than Granny Smith. Perhaps a decade, which still places her fairly well along." Another half-sigh. "She was part of my work crew this morning. Light tasks only. They are -- very careful with her. And when it comes to her lack of attendance at the concert, she simply prefers her rest. I suppose the most amazing part is that she's capable of sleeping through that. Or perhaps the local earplugs actually work. Somehow. Twilight?"

"...yes?"

"Why are you alone?"

They were still trotting together. Twilight always had to push slightly in order to keep up with longer legs.

"I'm not," the little mare said. "I'm with you." Which was followed by "I'm sort of surprised you went after the store today. It's actually been a little easier for me to look at everypony now that the overalls are gone."

"...really?"

"As long as I don't look at their hips. Or stare. Or... go near the hips at all. But not having the overalls around is a relief." Much more softly, on the border between murmur and whisper, meant for Rarity's rotated ears alone. "It's not something I expected to get from you. But it's there. Or maybe you just taught me to have taste."

Another breath. "How did you get away from your own assignments?"

Purple eyes darted, checked to see who was in listening range. "...used a restroom excuse and didn't go back. You?"

A little too evenly, "I complained."

Twilight just looked at her. A steady, unflinching gaze held across the little jolts and bumps of a normal pace.

The designer didn't take the silent bait. "Briefly. To the proper parties, until they decided it was easiest to let me go off for a while. Believe me, I could have gone on. For some time. A truly detailed grievance count would have required checklists. Plural. And possibly charts." In lower tones, "I've spotted Spike and Applejack. Yourself?"

"Rainbow, Pinkie, and Fluttershy. Plus Spike."

Rarity exhaled. "Good. Everypony worth caring about has been confirmed. So as the 'clothing' store is starting to become somewhat distant, I'd like to resume my original educational journey at this time --"

"-- can we talk?" the little mare carefully pushed out as they both passed under a streetlight. "Please?"

"Twilight, that so-called store has been getting on my nerves since arrival and I assure you, I simply wish to instruct --"

"-- we just had one really bad incident with a local," Twilight stated. "We don't need any more."

The designer blinked.

"Something happened."

"Yes."

"Is it our -- usual primary suspe --"

"-- Rainbow. Yeah."

"Is she all right --"

"-- I would have told you if she wasn't. Before anything else. And then --" She took a quick glance around, trying to see if anypony seemed to be paying attention to them. Checking the rotation angle of every visible ear. "-- that led to something else. Rarity, I need to tell you things. A lot of them. And then you have to pass them on to anypony you see. Can we please talk?"

The "Of course, Twilight!" emerged with a genuine note of surprise. "Did you really feel there was a true need to ask?"

Her own smile felt oddly weak. "Okay. We need privacy. Just follow --"

"-- but not about her."

Twilight's left foreleg hitched in midstep.

"Although I realize it may be inevitable," Rarity added. "If she was directly involved in whatever happened." Thoughtfully, "I suppose it's too much to hope that Rainbow got a direct strike in. Of the electrical variety. But if she is no true part of what you learned, Twilight -- then please leave her out of this. As much as you can."

We have to talk about Trixie --

-- but not now.

She'd just denied Rarity one chance to -- as words went, 'vent' really wasn't qualified to be the world's largest understatement, but it was more than willing to put in some major work. Bringing up too many topics which were guaranteed to make her furious, when there were other things to discuss...

I lost one friend already --

"Twilight?" Very carefully, "Your expression suggests a hoof just hit you. From the inside. I assure you, if there's no way to avoid that unpleasant subject, I'm willing to deal with the words. And the mare who necessitated them."

What would you say, if I told you that I really thought she'd been my friend?
Probably smile. That little wistful one, except it's thinner. And then you might do that sad laugh, and say how I'm still learning, the scrolls haven't exactly stopped yet, and the important thing is to avoid that level of mistake the next time.
And if you thought I was hurting... you'd nuzzle me. The one meant for friends or, if you slip, the big sister variant. Because that's the one which says you care about me, you love me, but you know best and really, if I'd just listened to you a little more...

"It's just been a long day," Twilight wearily said. "Already. Trixie was there when Rainbow -- acted. But she wasn't really part of it. And she didn't have anything to do with what happened after."

The designer nodded. "So where are we going?" she softly inquired. "One of our assigned residences?"

"No," Twilight whispered. "That's where they'll look second. Stay close to me. I'm going to make contact with your right flank right after we slip around that corner. The one with the really bad angle. As long as there's nopony on the other side to see us, then the light will be blocked."

"...the light?" Rarity managed just as they skirted past the lurking splinters.

I'm not allowed to go out to the shield border. When it comes to me, that's where they'll look first. And the longer I'm gone, the more likely it is that somepony might order a full search out that way. 'Somepony' being Starlight.

Except that she might have also set up a proximity sensor. Something to tell her if I get close.

I thought of that. So she might. But she isn't necessarily going to assume that I could spot the possibility. So they'll probably start the search along or near the border, hoping to intercept me. The houses would be next.

They'd gotten lucky: nopony was watching. She made contact --

"-- Twilight? Where are we? I don't have a good view on a window , and -- I can't see very well right now. All of the turquoise --"

"-- get down!" the little mare hissed. "Belly and barrel against the smoothest part of the floor you can find! I'll check the windows!"

"...why?"

"Because as everypony insists on reminding me pretty much every single time there's a chance to raise the subject, I'm short. And easier to overlook! But we just teleported into a gatehouse which has light coming out of windows as the first sign that it's in use, so I need to make sure nopony saw us arrive."

The awkward rearing-ups began. It didn't take long for the tactic to be abandoned.

"...Twilight?"

"...you'd think jumping would be easier than trying to hold that position," the alicorn muttered between landing jolts. "Except now I have to worry about somepony seeing a horn bouncing in and out of view."

"But we teleported --"

"-- it's like Trotter's Falls," Twilight sighed. "I still haven't gotten to completely analyze everything Starlight did to the shield. But I do know this by now, Rarity: it's all part of the shield. None of the effects radiate in. I can't get us out of here. But a lockdown stops teleportation from going in and out. We can still teleport within the lockdown zone."

Although there were going to be some side effects, most of which centered around a need to keep blinking until the spots cleared from her eyes. They'd only been within the between for a moment, and a realm which normally offered nothing more to the senses than total deprivation of input had fully surrounded them with the crackling hue of Starlight's field.

No matter where we go, there she is.

"Tactically important," Rarity acknowledged. "Do you see anypony?"

"No. I think we got away with it."

"What was the backup plan if the flash had been seen?"

You couldn't eliminate the light from a teleport. Hundreds of stealth-oriented researches had tried, and none of their suits had even been as good as Twilight's. (Which still didn't explain why the stupid thing had never worked.) "There's a copse of trees near the shoreline, with a decent hollow at the center. I was there earlier today. But there's a lot of vegetation there and some of the thicker pieces could have recoiled us. Plus there's the risk of having other ponies use it." With open frustration, "Still, at least I know he's gone. Probably. At least, I don't think he would have gone back there after I did --"

"-- Twilight?" was projected up from the floor.

"Yes?"

"Our time may be limited. Push the pronouns aside. 'He' who?"


Snap Shutter had allowed Twilight to talk without interruption, and perhaps that had been a means of manipulation. Show that he was willing to let her have some degree of say, right up until the moment where it became somepony else's turn and at that point...

Rarity had questions. And the designer was capable of truly listening -- but she also wanted to make sure her voice would be heard in any argument. Quickly-aborted bursts of inquiring half-syllables repeatedly tried to escape white lips as Twilight talked, thrusting themselves into the scant spaces between words -- just before the unicorn cut herself off, frequently with a mutter of 'Not yet..."

Twilight pushed on. Talking her way across time, until the recent past had just about been welded to the present.

"And that was the last you saw or heard of him?" Rarity checked. "After leaving the copse."

"It wasn't for lack of trying," Twilight sighed. "Because I only got about a hundred body lengths before I turned around and tried to go back."

Rarity blinked.

"Twilight -- you are certain that you made no contact with anything unusual? Perhaps one of the native plants at ground level does something upon touching skin --"

"-- what are you talking about?"

"You tried to go back," the designer stated as the curled tail began to lash. "And the very nearly directly stated reason is that you wished to deal with that stallion again. Why? Other than 'I'm sure he'll tell me all of the real things if I just pretend to take a sip'."

"Because," the scientist patiently explained, "all of the things he was going to use were in the saddlebags. He might have even had one of the teleportation devices in there!" She paused. "Probably not. I mean, it's not a guarantee that he didn't. Even if there's something which only lets it do large-scale movements, being able to teleport out when just about nopony else can is a good way to get out of a fight. So he might have been carrying one. The point is that I didn't look, Rarity. I trotted out on him. I should have tried to get at the saddlebags. And when I realized that, I just about kicked myself on the spot. So I went back. But he'd already left."

She paused.

"And," Twilight's lecturing instincts added, "some of that stuff gets absorbed through the gums. So faking a sip is really stupid."

The designer let her have that one.

"Directly confiscating his possessions," Rarity pointed out, "creates its own issues. You would need to keep him from reporting the theft, and we hardly have a secure place to keep a prisoner. And given that those two have only recently returned to the community, I would expect at least a few ponies to come looking for their -- 'friend'." The word had nearly been spat. "One would hope that if somepony knocked on their door and called out a given name, he would eventually recognize it as being his. Twilight, taking those saddlebags would have been a direct assault. I suspect that would have drawn a response." Thoughtfully, "Although possibly not a severe one. You and Rainbow left the scene without true punishment. And Rainbow attacked one of Starlight's recruiters. I feel as if that should have resulted in somewhat more retributive action than she actually took."

"She just stood there for a few seconds," Twilight reported. "When it all started. And from what I've been able to see of her field strength..."

She trailed off, because the effort required not to picture it clearly needed to draw extra calories from the larynx.

(The effort failed, and phantom splashes of pegasus blood covered Truedawn's streets.)

"Yes," Rarity slowly said. "The mare who presumably created the shield does not need our police chief's trick to break up a fight. If she wishes for a physical conflict to end and nopony is landing kicks on her as a means of breaking focus? Then the fight reaches its end."

And possibly the ponies --

-- no. The most violence they'd seen in Truedawn had been from Rainbow. They didn't know what Starlight would do. Just that... when it came to the initial stage of the assault, she'd done nothing at all.

Twilight sighed. "Rarity, I'm not sure what I was going to do if I'd found him in the copse. I'd like to think I would have spotted the problems before I went for his saddlebags." There had been a few lesson-bearing scrolls sent off along the way. "But he'd left. Right now, my big hope is that those two keep their supplies in their own house. And since I know where they live, we also know where to look."

It got her a steady nod. "It does create the issue of getting inside. And if they return everything to Starlight at some point for replenishment and recharging, we might find ourselves needing to get access to the workshop." All four legs tensed. "Currently, that particular touch of privilege is -- not ours."

"And I'm not supposed to get too close," Twilight reminded her.

Rarity's lips quirked. "Not if anypony can see you doing so, at least."

"That would be the key," the little mare noted. "But I'll need to check her place for defenses first. More than I did the first time, and that's going to mean getting close in itself."

Another nod. "We have -- several problems to be solved," Rarity sighed. "Leave it at that. 'Several', Because I need to get my own questions in and if we begin reviewing every issue which needs to be dealt with, then we may find the Allgoods needing to use the gatehouse for their way out --"

"Why did you just frown?"

"-- thinking," the designer carefully said. "We don't know how many ponies are using the rods. Starlight, obviously yes."

Unless she can cover that distance herself --

"And those two," Rarity added. "But we don't know how many ponies are trusted enough to -- just come and go. The longer we stay here, Twilight, the less this feels like a community. Criticize my reading material as much as you wish: it would hardly be the first time. But I do intersect with Rainbow in this: her adventurer, and my pirate captains, have a near-equal tendency to come across cults. And there are very few in such a system who can be allowed to depart. It's possible that they are her only means of bringing others in -- and if so, then why do three ponies need a full gatehouse? It could just be a private space in the workshop. Their own basement, for that matter."

It was a legitimate point. Twilight thought about it, and came up with nothing.

"...tradition?" was all which the I Feel So Stupid editing would allow past her lips. "They see it as a pony community, and -- a community has a gatehouse...?"

"Perhaps," was, even for Rarity, extremely generous. "On to the next bit, then." She shuffled a little against the floor -- then winced: the gatehouse was seldom used, and dust had built up on the floor. "This may be rather scattershot. Let's see how much we can get through. And if you have a strong memory of your assigned residence, try to bring us to the emptiest space you can picture." With a faint shudder, "Although recoil may be guaranteed. Searches tend to scatter debris into unexpected places."

The wince migrated across the small gap between mutually-facing mares, then doubled in intensity. "Maybe if I try to bring us in over the beds and we just drop a hoofheight or two..." But she'd never tried for a midair arrival before. "What else are you thinking about?"

The designer organized her design.

"If Starlight is the key," Rarity observed, "then there is a certain need to keep her fully intact."

Twilight nodded. "The process can be reversed. Getting that verified may be the most important thing I learned --"

"-- disagree," Rarity cut in.

"...what's more important than that?"

"On a personal and immediate level? The absolute need," Rarity stated, "to both gather and prepare all of our own food. And drink, for that matter. And we must pass that information to the others as soon as we can, while asking them if they have consumed anything unusual --" paused "-- other than in its typically-poor taste. And monitor their behavior, because it's not impossible that somepony did get a dose. But with Starlight... as long as she is the only one who can restore a mark, then she cannot be injured to the point where she would lose the ability to cast. Because I rather feel it would take some convincing before she agreed to teach you the trick, and -- the one who may be set to learn it is unlikely to use or relay that spell for our benefit."

I thought she was my friend.

"...right," Twilight said. She'd thought of the food problem earlier and had been planning to bring it up all along, but there was no need to try seizing credit for the idea.

"I imagine the Allgoods will be used for that lesson," Rarity considered. "A pair of subjects to observe. But let's focus on the so-called stallion. Did you recognize anything else in the -- kit?"

"I didn't get a very long look," Twilight reminded her. "And I think he probably worked out what I did. He's married to a pegasus: it can't be the first time somepony's tried to look over his back. I can guess at some things which he might want to use, but I didn't get the chance to see if they were there. I can describe them for everypony, though. But just how they look and smell. I've -- never exactly..."

I answered your question, Rainbow. Who do I trust less as a pharmacist than Starlight? Snap Shutter.

She currently didn't think much of him as a mixologist, either.

"I would never wish for you to experience a taste test," Rarity firmly declared. "But how do you even know what to look for?"

"The Gifted School," Twilight admitted. "Partially."

The resulting silence collected its own degree of stun and stumbled into a splintery corner to recover.

"If that makes up the vital contents of the typical chemistry course," Rarity carefully voiced, "then I am suddenly rather glad for my lack of raw power. And when it comes to whatever the other 'part' is --"

Very quickly, "No. There's some classes on monsters. Trying to figure out how to fight them, and -- how they do the things they do. The right kind of snake can make venom in its body. The orange compound... that's distilled from a spray which jonlexias generate." Darkly, "Victims are probably a lot easier to deal with when they agree to be eaten. Rarity, just based on what I saw of the kit -- and I didn't recognize the red powder or the vial next to it -- these are things which were mostly discovered from monster sourcing. Because some of what monsters can do isn't magic, and it can take chemistry to fight chemistry. Looking for antidotes, neutralizers.. it all takes having the original compounds close to hoof. But nopony is supposed to use them. Not the way the monsters do. Because it just..."

She swallowed. Compulsively checked the windows for observers. Just in case.

"...if... if somepony used that stuff, any of it, the same way the monsters do... then that just -- makes more monsters."

"Or," Rarity softly told her, "reveals what was already there. Would an explorer know about those compounds?"

Trixie loves chemistry.

"Some of them, for the known hazards in an area," Twilight considered. "But they're usually the ones who run into the new stuff first."

"And if they passed any of that on to Starlight," the designer considered, "then we can't be certain as to what she has. In addition to describing vocally, you can write up a checklist of the known hazards? Appearance and scent -- good. We simply can't risk the assumption that the familiar is the whole of it." Another shudder. "Not here."

"I don't even know what she used to prime the Seeds..." And why had the bloom's colors been off?

They were both silent for a time.

"And the rest of your familiarity?" Rarity finally asked.

"The Princess. A personal instruction session. She took the display case out of the security spells herself. She -- wanted me to know what the worst of it was. In case anypony ever -- tried to..."

The white right forehoof gently touched her trembling shoulder.

"She does care about you, Twilight," Rarity gently told the little mare. "I do feel she has a rather difficult time in finding ways to express it. But she cares."

Who does she really care about?
Me?
Or the stallion I don't want to remember?

"Something I do need to check," Rarity broke the renewed silence. "From what you said regarding the discussion, you were rather careful in what you told him."

"Too many reasons for that," Twilight sighed. "Starting with the fact that anything I say to him, I probably said to Starlight."

I wanted to give Scootaloo her parents back.

"Did you say, specifically, that Applejack currently has custody?"

"No. But it wouldn't be hard to find out."

If Trixie talks...
...when...

"Let's hope to avoid that discovery for a time," Rarity darkly considered. "He might not visibly care. Or care at all. But there is still a mother to deal with. She may not necessarily share the perspective."

Twilight nodded.

I wanted to give Scootaloo her parents back.

Snap Shutter had never spoken his daughter's name.

Maybe she's better off without them.

He'd also never said he loved her.

Sun's light shifted its angle through the nearest window.

"Luna... asked me to consider that some ponies might wish for their mark to change," the little alicorn finally said. "I guess you can include 'be removed' in that. It's a decision I'm trying to understand, and... the more I think about it, the easier it becomes to realize how somepony could feel that way."

The designer was quiet. Almost completely still. But in time, her head shifted position: once up, once down.

"Recruiting those who -- want this," Twilight forced herself to continue, "is one thing. It's a decision being made and even if we don't understand it -- even if we're repelled by it -- if the results aren't hurting anypony, then it's their decision. I can understand recruiters, Rarity. For a cause, or a cult. You're looking for the ones who agree, or can be talked around. Into making that decision. But I saw the contents of that saddlebag, and..."

The little mare's strength ran out, and a friend hitched herself to the burden.

"And now you don't know if anypony here is truly present of their own will," offered subdued tones.

"..,yes."

"Then consider," Rarity gently said, "that such a total might include the Allgoods. This all goes through Starlight, Twi --" and stopped.

"Rarity?"

"It is just oddly awkward to have both of your names within close proximity in the same sentence," the miffed unicorn decided. "It's the matching terminal sound. I may need to borrow from Applejack for a time, if I can manage to use 'Twi' without too much wincing. But back to the Allgoods. It's been years, Twilight. We don't know how they were drawn into this. Simply that it was most likely Starlight who recruited them. This may not have originated with her --" the shudder count reached three "-- and I would rather not dwell on the possibility of her being somepony's -- student just yet. Another layer to deal with. But with the Allgoods, there is a chance that they initially learned about some of those compounds through being made to drink them."

Twilight wanted to believe it.
She wanted to believe in anything which meant normal ponies were incapable of such cruelty...

"And for that matter," Rarity continued, "if Starlight is following the plans of another..."

"A community of victims," Twilight summarized. "And the actual cause could be somewhere else. Or hiding in Truedawn, watching."

"A possibility only," Rarity acknowledged. "The Allgoods could simply have been caught before most. But with Starlight... there's something so odd about her..."

This reaction was more of a shiver. White fur rippled.

"So in the best case," Twilight made herself say, "Snap is using the same thing which was used on him."

"And while I acknowledge the chance," Rarity stated, "I'm not quite ready to rely on it." And sighed. "I... do wonder if when word of this will reach Miranda. The hunt has turned up prey -- or, for a pony, borne fruit. It did work, Twilight. Those two trotted into the wrong bank, at a time when the right pony was clearly on alert. And they were nearly caught. If not for that Tartarus-chained device..."

"What do you think she'll tell Scootaloo?"

"Miranda?"

Twilight nodded. Rarity thought it over.

"I'm -- not sure," the unicorn admitted. "I mostly witnessed the Crusade from a slight distance, Twilight. One which I was constantly trying to increase. But I feel that Scootaloo is rather quick to embrace hope. The Crusade itself was a demonstration of that: every fresh attempt a guaranteed mark -- I... just thought about that. Truly thought about it. The filly, compared to her parents..."

"The irony scale can probably take a few more dents before it falls apart..."

"Your pardon?"

"...nothing."

Their most frequent liar carefully looked Twilight over before visibly deciding to let the alicorn get away with it -- for now. "In any case, Applejack has said that on the bad days, every new voucher is treated as a sign that her parents truly love her. Are trying to take care of her. To hear that they were seen..."

She sighed. The curled tail slowly swayed, then flicked off a micro-lash at the end.

"He didn't say where they tried to purchase the voucher?" Rarity asked.

"I can guarantee you it wasn't Ponyville," Twilight darkly noted. "But no. He didn't. And I might have some trouble asking him now."

"Then the news will require time to travel," Rarity considered. "The only true way for Miranda to know by now is if the voucher purchase was made in Canterlot. Twilight... I feel that the most Scootaloo might be told is that her parents are confirmed to be alive. And possibly not even that, because -- hope can be a rather reliable source of torment. Our police chief may decide to hold on more information."

"I don't understand why they haven't tried to see her," Twilight insisted. "I don't. From what Applejack's said, from what I've seen -- Scootaloo would believe anything they told her, and love them all the more. Even once a year would have been enough for her. Once a moon, out in public with her, and maybe nopony ever asks a single question about her living situation. Why stay completely out of Ponyville?"

"...I don't know," the designer confessed. "Perhaps we'll find out." Thoughtfully, "Although I can at least think of a reason not to use Ponyville's bank."

"Oh?"

"The supposed stallion," Rarity expertly pronounced, "is not exactly wrong about Mr. Croesus. I would know, because that is the bank which holds my mortgage and if it wasn't for one of my father's friends having gone into the profession after the hoofball days, under that employer? I likely would have been trying to sell the Boutique's sales plan to a Canterlot loan institution. Mr. Croesus does not speak 'understandable payment delay'. I believe he may have responded to the Summer Sun Celebration through trying to put his tellers on permanent night hours. Likely at a lower salary. I have at least three mortgage payments set aside at all times and, since our Bearer days began, three ponies on standby to drop them off." With a slow head shake, "I'm not that far away from full ownership of the Boutique, Twilight, and I have been seriously considering having the traditional document-burning party on his lawn."

Dust swirled within the gatehouse. Distant sounds of pony laughter bounced off the glass.

"We shouldn't stay here too long," the designer considered. "Even if we can maintain privacy indefinitely, we need to get into Truedawn and warn the others about the possible use of drugs. If there's nothing else for the moment, shall we try to go find them?"

"Yes." Twilight stood up. "That's crucial. And then we should..." Reluctantly, "...find a work crew. And give them a good explanation for the absence before we join in." It might make it easier to leave again.

"Oh, I may make one additional stop before that," Rarity airily declared. "Or find just the right crew to join. As I believe there's a matter I need to discuss with a certain member of the community. Nira, you said?"

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