Two Generations Past

Merry awoke.

She wasn't exactly certain where she was.

She remembered Basalteus shouting, and an explosion. She remembered snatches of...

She groaned. How could I? Poor Scratch...

But a part of her was not sorry. It felt better, to have the lie exposed.

She was in a soft bed. It felt like actual stuffing, not hay.

She opened her eyes.

She was in Basalteus's guest room again. The room was barren, as before—nothing but her, the bed...and Crab Apple. The earth pony was sleeping nearby the bed.

She blinked, then smiled wearily. “Oh, hey.”

“Hm?” Crab Apple's eyes opened instantly. He looked around. “Oh...wow, it mornin' already? I'd swear I just closed my eyes for a second...”

“Were you here all night?”

Crab got up and stretched. “Urgh. Well, yeah.” He glanced at Merry, shrugging. “Don't let it go to your head. The Acres ain't currently free to trot over.”

“What?”

“Yep. A dozen guards've made themselves at home. Smith an' Smoky are downstairs, but someone needed to watch the patient.” Crab smiled, and Merry noticed dark circles under his eyes. “Y'had us worried, Merry.”

“What...” Merry reached up, to her head, feeling a faint pain. “...what happened?”

“I wouldn't touch that, if I were you.” Crab caught Merry's hoof. “You got hit on the head pretty hard. Agitatin' it's probably goin' to make it start hurting.”

“Oh.” Merry reached up with her other hoof, and carefully felt around. She felt a cloth bandage, apparently wrapped around her head. “Wow...okay, what happened?”

The door opened. “An earth pony known as Rosin Wheel.”

Crab and Merry turned. Crab quickly released Merry's hoof.

Basalteus stood there, eyes narrowed. He was bandaged around his torso, and one of his legs was in a cast. “We know next to nothing about her, but we were able to extract her name. She is currently being kept in the Ponyville jail, until we can decide what to do with her.”

Merry stared. “We...have a jail?”

Basalteus tipped his head. “Undercut Wraps has a cellar. It suffices for now.”

“We really don't know anything else?” Crab asked.

“No. The Mayor's attempts at interrogation yielded only her name. We do not know why she sought to detonate the club, or where she found the supplies, or where she comes from.”

“And how are we going to find out?” Merry asked.

Basalteus turned to her. “You must rest. You were severely injured.”

Merry raised an eyebrow, and found that this hurt. “You look like you fell into a toffee-pulling machine.”

Basalteus shrugged. “And yet.”

He turned and left, closing the door sharply behind him.

Dizzy sat on Basalteus's roof, watching the entrance intently.

She had been waiting for at least ten minutes now. Dizzy was a fairly disciplined mare, but this was starting to get to her.

Just as she was starting to consider just going in, though, the front door opened.

Dizzy leaped down, flapping her wings and landing beside Basalteus. “Hey.”

Basalteus nodded, not slowing. Dizzy entered a trot, keeping pace with him.

“So,” she ventured, “how've you been?”

Basalteus shrugged.

Dizzy glanced at his bandages and grimaced. “Sorry, anserine question. Um...where are we going?”

Basalteus shrugged again. “I do not know.”

“Are you...alright?”

Basalteus said nothing for a moment.

Dizzy decided to prompt him. “Basalte--”

Basalteus turned to her. “I very nearly killed somepony last night, Ms. Hooves.” His eyes closed. “I do not believe I am alright at all.”

Rosin sat in her cell, staring without any expression at the wall.

Her 'cell' was a cage. From the smell, it had been devised for holding fruit.

It had been repurposed.

She heard somepony coming down the stairs, but didn't move. She heard what sounded like a crate being dragged over.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw somepony sit on the crate.

“Hi.”

Rosin didn't move.

“Are you alright in there?”

Rosin stayed still.

There was a silence. Rosin could see the mare without looking over, but only just.

The visitor spoke again. “Have you ever seen things that weren't really there? Heard things that didn't sound?”

Rosin stared at the wall.

The visitor spoke once more, her voice a bit quieter. “Have you...ever been afraid, and...not known why?”

Rosin blinked.

“What do you mean, Basalteus?” Dizzy frowned. “It was self-defense. Hairtrigger said so.”

“Hairtrigger lied to help me,” Basalteus said, his voice low and weary. “I fought in self-defense, correct. Then I continued to fight. Had it not been for the young Miss Redheart's quick thinking, Rosin Wheel would be dead.”

Dizzy stared.

The two ponies exited the rock farm, and began down the path to the apple orchard.

“Wh-why...” Dizzy's voice was more frightened than she'd meant it. The idea of violence disturbed her, as it had ever since the fight with the timber wolves. “...why?”

Basalteus bowed his head. “You spoke harshly to your friend.”

“Wh...what?”

Basalteus turned to Dizzy, scowling. “Undercut Wraps. Your words were warranted, but volatile. You must think about this, as I must think about my own failings. If you find that you still feel for her, you will have to act. Everypony can change.”

Dizzy tilted her head, frowning again. “You really believe that?”

“I will have to.” Basalteus pointed south. “Find a place for your thoughts, and I will do the same for my own.”

Dizzy hesitated. Basalteus seemed very serious. He also seemed very intent on Dizzy's departure.

She looked at Basalteus, and felt a severe misgiving. “Are you convinced you'll be alright?”

Basalteus nodded.

Dizzy slowly took a step away, then leaped into the air and took flight.

She watched Basalteus walk off into the orchard, as she made her way to a cloud.

Basalteus had been right about one thing. Whether or not her words had been harsh, she truly needed to think.

It was time to stop dodging the question she'd been quietly asking herself ever since last night:

Is Wraps my friend?

Doc sat alone, by the outskirts of the small village of Ponyville, staring at her home.

The club had been torn to pieces.

That the fire and explosion had failed to destroy had been wrecked by the ponies seeking to avoid road hazards.

There was nothing left. Only a few splinters remained of the lopsided beverage rack. The billiard table—Scratch's favorite heirloom—had only a leg and a few strips of cloth left. The record players had shattered into hazards for the careless walker.

“It's all gone, isn't it?”

Scratch glanced to her side.

Wraps was there. The blue-haired earth pony looked over the remains of the club, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah,” Scratch said.

“So much lost in one night.” Wraps sighed. “I heard a bit of that.”

“Yeah.”

Wraps pawed the rubble. Then she shrugged. “Sorry.”

She turned and walked away.

Scratch bowed her head.

So much lost. Her club, Merry...

She closed her eyes. She'd already decided not to cry any more.

“She said such horrible things...” she whispered.

“Well, can you blame her?”

Scratch spun around. Wraps was still there. Her expression was calm and calculating, but Scratch noticed that the earth pony's eyes were a bit red.

“Excuse me?”

Wraps glanced around. “Well, can you deny that what she said was true?”

“I—of course!” Scratch glared. “She was just—I don't know what her problem was.”

“Arrogance. Treating others like dirt so you can feel superior.” Wraps raised an eyebrow. “Miss your shades? We don't.”

Scratch wanted to say something. She was a combative mare.

But she didn't know what to say. So she just glared. That's when she thought of something to say. “And you're better? I heard what Dopey was saying about you.”

Wraps's expression turned to anger quickly. “Don't call her--” She stopped, flushing. She went on, calm again. “I...don't know--”

“--what her problem is? Huh. See, that sounds like what I said.” Scratch shrugged. “Anyway, see you later.”

Wraps glared. “You think what you say to me makes what she said to you any less true?” She turned away, scoffing. “You're just as stuck as I am.”

“I'm telling you, Crab.” Merry glared. “I'm fine. I want to get out. I want to see the clubhouse. I want to see--”

She stopped.

“You want to see Scratch?” Crab asked.

“I...” Merry shook her head. “I don't know. But I want to get out of here.”

“Sorry. Basalteus said you're to stay put.”

“Fine.” Merry rolled her eyes, waving dismissively. “Then just get me a glass of whiskey.”

“Ain't it a bit early?” Crab looked a bit nervous. “'sides, what makes y'think there's any here? Basalteus is hardly the drinkin' type.”

“There's a bottle of whiskey hidden right outside in that upside-down plant pot,” Merry snapped.

Crab stared.

“I needed some, alright? He told me not to drink, and I only drank a bit, anyways. Just get it!”

Crab shook his head. “Sorry. No can do.”

“What?”

“Merry, you're done drinking.”

Merry blinked. “Excuse me?”

“It was Basalteus's call.” Crab Apple sighed. “I'm sorry, Merry. It's time you face things.”

Merry's eyes widened. “But--”

“Everypony has problems, Merry.” Crab waved a hoof, scowling. “I've got crimes to cover up. Basalteus has whatever's making his mane even flatter than usual. Smoky's got her—and that insane mare in Wraps's basement has plenty of problems, I'm sure.”

He pointed to Merry. “You're the only one who thinks she needs to poison herself. You know the drink ain't healthy. So you ain't drinkin'.”

Merry stared. “But...”

Crab's scowl lessened, and he sighed. “I'm sorry, Merry. I wanted to talk this over. But you're done drinking.”

“I...”

“I'm gonna go check up on our resident foalnapper.” Crab turned and opened the door. “I'll see you--”

“Thank you,” Merry said. She'd meant to whisper, beneath Crab's hearing range, but her voice came out quite clearly.

Crab looked surprised. “I...”

Merry sat up, ignoring the pain. “I appreciate what you've done for me. But I really want to move, alright? I can't stand lying here.”

Crab hesitated. “I'm...not sure.”

“Can I at least come with you?”

Crab tilted his head. “Hm. Well, Basalteus is out. He won't know. But don't leave my side. Your head ain't quite perfect yet—I don't want you passin' out an' fallin' off a cliff.”

Dizzy looked down from her cloud at the barren earth of Ghastly Gorge.

This was a good place. It reflected her mood.

She lay back in the cloud, and considered.

She tried to remember.

Wraps closed her eyes and hit her head against the wall of the baking hut.

Then she did it again.

And again.

The thought occurred to her that she might get a concussion. Wouldn't Dizzy be sorry then?

She quickly cast the thought aside. Injuring myself over that...traitor...would be ridiculous. Who cares if she's sorry? I don't need her. I only saw her once a week, anyways.

And the rest of my week was miserable.

She shook herself. Ridiculous. Idiotic. I helped her out. It was more charity than anything.

But she remembered her meeting with Dizzy. It had been Dizzy's birthday. Dizzy had seen her, lying alone on the hilltop, and had brought her a slice of cake.

Wraps had rebuffed Dizzy initially. As a freak.

But Dizzy had stayed.

Wasn't that charity?

How much does--did Dizzy rely on me? Wraps wondered. In truth? She had the Apples for company. Not to mention those new friends of hers.

She rolled her eyes. But that lot. Worthless. Who needs such friends? I actually helped Dizzy. She was dead broke.

Then, she blinked.

Dizzy has been dead broke for a long time. I only helped her once. She hasn't otherwise asked. Was somepony else helping her?

No. Of course not. Dizzy was not the sort to request charity. She was a sensible mare.

Dizzy didn't need Wraps for monetary aid.

And she had other friends to talk to.

Why does she need me?

Wraps tried to remember.

“And you're certain of this?”

Old Principal Standard peered at the two young fillies through his glass monocle. He was an odd character—his other eye covered by a black eyepatch. The earth pony wore a black suit and a bowler cap, in addition to the two pieces of eyewear. He chewed a pipe as he listened.

“Yes, sir,” the little yellow earth pony said dutifully. Her curly blue hair was very clean and clasped with a white bow. Her front right leg was in a cast. She looked up at him as she went on, her voice breaking. “Th-they grabbed me, and they sh-shoved me off the cliff.”

“Why?” Standard demanded. “Why would those three colts do such a thing, Ms. Wraps?”

The filly turned to her friend, an askew-eyed gray pegasus. The pegasus started, then looked up at the principal with wide eyes. “They...they said she'd pay f-for not g-giving them help on their h-homework. I w-wanted to stop it, b-but...”

Principal Standard held up a hoof. “I have heard enough. I knew those three were trouble, but I did not know their bullying was this severe. Breaking the legs of my students?” He gave a grim chuckle. “And their family is not exactly prestigious. Attacking a member of the Wraps family? No. Rest assured, this will not stand. They will go.”

Inwardly, Wraps smiled.

A few minutes later, Dizzy and Undercut left the office.

Undercut Wraps was smirking. “See? I told you. They're gullible as griffons, that lot.”

Dizzy felt unsure. “Well..din't seem--”

“Did not, Dizzy.” Wraps patted her friend on the head. “Remember the enunciation. Nopony will take you seriously if you talk like a bumpkin.”

Dizzy had a feeling Wraps had struggled with 'enunciation', but at least she'd gotten it right. She nodded sheepishly. “Well, it didn't seem quite...I mean, broken legs—appendixes--”

“Appendages.”

“Appendages. They hurt a lot, don't they?”

Wraps rolled her eyes. “Well, yeah. Jumping off cliffs hurts.” She jabbed Dizzy in the side. “Don't try that until your wings are working.”

Dizzy laughed, still feeling nervous. “Yeah...”

“Look, relax.” Wraps grinned. “I couldn't let those three push you around.”

“C-couldn't I have fallen, though? I mean...”

Wraps growled. “Standard wouldn't help you. Your family isn't rich enough. I know how it works with him. It's all 'shenanigans' until the parents threaten to sue.” She smiled brightly. “We could still sue.”

“Please don't.” Dizzy felt a bit alarmed.

Wraps giggled. “I'm joking, Dizzy. Don't worry. What matters is that those three won't push you around again. I'm guessing nopony will.” She put an arm on Dizzy's. “Nopony messes with my friends, got that?”

“Come one, come all,” Smoky muttered to herself. “Come to witness the majesty of the Mighty and Fearsome foalnapper.”

She sat against an old apple tree, glaring at her knees.

She'd been here for a while.

She heard somepony coming, and she looked up. A yellow pegasus with a long pink mane was walking up to her.

“Yes?” Smoky snapped.

The pegasus mare flinched from Smoky's hostile tone, and Smoky felt chastised. “Sorry. What is it?”

“D-don't...be so hard on yourself.”

“Beg pardon?”

The pegasus shrugged. “You made a mistake. You need to move on. You know what you did was wrong. Crying won't help anything, and won't even start to m-make up for it.”

Smoky stared. “How do you--”

“You have been talking to yourself for a while.” Basalteus stepped out from behind a nearby pear tree. “I expect she overheard.”

Smoky looked at Basalteus. The earth pony looked haggard. Even ignoring his injuries.

“You wished to speak with me, Ms. Rye,” Basalteus said, looking away from Smoky.

“Oh! Yes.” Rye nodded minutely. “I—we need to talk, I think.” She looked back at Smoky. “You should probably leave.”

Smoky glared. “Why should I leave? I was here first.”

“Um...” Rye cringed.

Smoky rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She got up and stalked off.

She supposed she had nowhere to go but Ponyville.

Rye had been right about one thing, Smoky decided.

Moping would accomplish nothing.

Rosin looked over, at the mint-green unicorn addressing her. It was the unicorn who had helped capture her.

“Sometimes,” she whispered.

The unicorn blinked, seeming surprised to get an answer. “I, um...I'm Hairtrigger. I'm afraid all the time, and I'm never really sure why.”

Rosin stared.

“I mean,” Hairtrigger went on, “I just don't, um...sometimes, I wonder if my brain is right. There are just all these horrible ponies around me. M-my...my cousin murdered my twin sister, and my older brother. Destroyed the bridge the three of us were on.”

Hairtrigger looked at Rosin, tilting her head. “She blew it up. Sort of...well, anyways, I survived. The others...didn't. And then there's this...this horrible mare, who just loves to make me miserable.”

Rosin blinked.

“Like, really miserable. Not in a joking way, or even just a mean way. It's like she loves watching me suffer. Like I did something horrible to her, and now she's paying me back for something I didn't do.”

Rosin did not respond.

“And...” Hairtrigger laughed nervously. “My parents don't want anything to do with me. They think I'm turning out like my cousin. They said so. They think I should be in the s-same asylum.”

Rosin hesitated.

Then she reached through the bars.

Hairtrigger started, but Rosin laid a hoof on Hairtrigger's knee.

Rosin tried to smile, but she wasn't sure she'd even made an expression.

“S...sorry,” she said quietly.

“I used unnecessary force.”

“Yeah...” Buttered Rye nodded nervously.

Basalteus glanced at her. The orchard was thick in this area, and she was watching the area around with the wariness of one who had been through one or two hazardous woods.

“But...” Rye cleared her throat. “You got mad. Nopony's perfect.”

“Rosin Wheel was very nearly slain.”

“Yeah.” The yellow pegasus shuffled beside Basalteus. “But...well, you feel bad about it. You need to make sure it doesn't happen again.”

Scratch scowled, as she stomped through the bushes. Stupid candymaker...what do I care? Merry's just...

She searched for the word to describe the earth pony.

...worthless. Drunk. Stupid. A liar.

She paused, looking around at the orchards she'd wandered into.

“My friend,” she muttered. “What the buck is wrong with me?”

“What?”

Scratch turned. A blue unicorn appeared to have overheard. The unicorn had a silver mane, and wore a black cloak.

After a moment, Scratch recognized her. Smoky Mirror. That showmare working with the Apple family.

“Nothing,” Scratch said. She scowled. “Why are you listening in? Don't you have some fireworks to set off, or whatever?”

Smoky tilted her head. She didn't seem offended. “Hm.”

“What?” Scratch stomped the ground. “What's so funny?”

“Just...well, what is wrong with you?”

Scratch blinked. “What?”

“Well, I kidnapped three children and sold them to the nobility.” Smoky shrugged. “You?”

Scratch blinked again.

Smoky waited.

“Uh...I guess I...”

What was wrong with her?

Do I still care about Merry, or not?

“...I kind of...upset my friend. I guess.”

It wouldn't matter if she told this mare. Smoky wasn't connected to anypony. She was an outcast. The Apples humored her. Nopony else.

Scratch scratched her head. “You kidnapped three children? Seriously?”

Smoky looked a little antsy. “Well...yes. Sort of. I sort of...well, it was an unwise choice.”

“Huh.”

Smoky looked quizzically at Scratch. “How do you plan to make amends?”

Scratch hesitated.

Was she going to?

“I, uh...I dunno.”

“Hm. My recommendation? Apologize.”

Scratch glared. “What about you?”

“Me? Um...I...”

“How about you get those kids back, right?”

Smoky stared.

Then she nodded. “I suppose you're...right. I just...” She fell silent. “I need to talk to my friends first. Good day.”

She turned and ran off.

Scratch sighed. Well, now what?

Was she going to apologize?

Merry was the only thing holding her to the town now. If Scratch left, nopony would miss her.

Scratch's heart dropped. Least of all Merry.

She began to pace.

This could not stand.

Something had to be done. Something to win Merry back.

Because without Merry, Scratch realized, she would be alone.

She began to form a plan.

Basalteus looked at Buttered Rye. He frowned. “Who are you?”

Buttered Rye looked at her hooves. “I, um...I'm nopony.”

Basalteus noted Rye's somewhat warped wings. “I see.”

Rye squeaked.

“Well...” Basalteus bowed his head and closed his eyes. “Ms. Rye. I will have to have a talk with...Rosin Wheel.”

“Yes.”

“Despite her efforts to kill us all.”

“For your own sake, though.”

“Correct.” Basalteus looked up. “Then I suppose we must go to Ponyville.”

“Oh, no.” Rye shook her head.

Basalteus looked back at her, blinking. “I do not...” He cocked his head. “I am not the only pony you wish to speak to? Or are you--”

“Yeah. Yeah. I...well, we...we've got work to do.” Rye smiled sheepishly. “Where's, um, Merry?”

“I just...” Merry sighed. “I just don't know, Crab.”

Crab nodded stiffly. Merry had been unable to easily walk, and she was leaning on him. It was making him a bit nervous. “Yeah.”

“I mean, I don't love Scratch. But...well, she's my friend.” Merry laughed hollowly. “She's awful, but...well, she cares about me. She just needs help. And I should be giving her that help.”

“Here.” Crab gestured to the pond they had come to. He recognized it as the pond he and Dizzy had faces the timber wolves by. “Let's, uh, sit here.”

“Okay.”

Crab sat down, and Merry sat down beside him. To his increased agitation, she leaned on him again. “I guess...I need to talk to her. If she'll talk to me.”

“If she won't accept help, you can't give it.” Crab shrugged.

“I just...” Merry put her hoof on her forehead. “I just messed up so badly last night.”

“You were drunk. You weren't in your right mind.”

“No...” Merry murmured. She sat up straight and turned to Crab. “Thanks again for that, by the way. For taking the drinks.”

Crab shrugged. “Wasn't my idea. 'sides, Smoky reckons you won't be feelin' so grateful in a short while. She seems to know a fair bit about these drinks of yours.”

“Yeah...still. I appreciate it. And I appreciate you letting me walk with you. And rant at you.”

Merry leaned in, and kissed Crab on the cheek. “So thanks for that.”

Crab could tell he was blushing very visibly.

How did he feel about this?

This was a first for him. His mind was racing. How did he feel? Merry's my friend, sure, but...well, do I...

“Ah. There you are, Ms. Punch and Crab.”

Crab turned, feeling simultaneously relieved and embarrassed. Basalteus and Buttered Rye stood there. It seemed they'd been around for a while. Certainly long enough. At his side, Crab could see that Merry was blushing about as badly as he was.

Crab recognized Buttered Rye from around town. The flightless bread baker, with the panic attacks.

“I hope we are not interrupting anything,” Basalteus said, “but Ms. Rye and I felt it best to contact you two. Last night was somewhat...” The rock farmer seemed to weigh his words. “...volatile.”

“Uh, yes.” Merry scooted a few inches away from Crab. “Right. What about it?”

Basalteus peered at her. He said nothing.

“Um...” Rye kicked the ground. “Um, if you...don't mind...well, we're going back into Ponyville. If there might be...um...somepony you want to talk to...”

What are those two playing at? Crab wondered. And since when does Basalteus know Rye? Is this new?

“Yes,” Merry said after a pause. “Yes, I need to talk to somepony.” She glanced at Crab. “Sorry. Um, if you want to--”

“I need to go, too.” Crab got up. “Remember that kidnapper?”

“Uh, yes.” Merry frowned. “What was--”

“Well, I gotta go talk to her.”

Rye whispered something.

“What?” Crab and Merry asked at the same time.

“Rye expects that Smoky will be on the way,” Basalteus said. “She wishes for our group to remain in one place, to keep things simple. She feels that this will make a full recovery for all involved easier.”

Crab stared at Basalteus suspiciously. “She couldn't've said all that. Have you two been discussin' this prior to--”

“Well,” Basalteus said with unusual haste, “we had best be moving. The days are short.”

Wraps looked up from the wall she'd been giving herself a concussion with.

Is that why she needs me? Is that what I do to help? We haven't been in school for a long time. The game has changed. And...

She looked up at the sky. ...she's winning this round. She's poorer, certainly, but I only smile when I'm with her. I see her smile all the time.

She turned around, towards the path leading back to Ponyville.

Then, she froze.

The realization had hit her out of the void. She hadn't even been consciously thinking about it.

Her eyes. Aren't normal.

She closed her eyes. “Her eyes aren't normal,” she said to herself.

“I haven't taken that into account since I was a filly,” she announced to the forest. “I forgot. How can somepony forget what she constantly sees?”

She hesitated. Then she started down the road to Ponyville.

If only I'd remembered sooner...

Smoky saw the others before they saw her. They were coming nearer to her little shelter in the orchard.

Out of reflex, she began an invisibility spell.

Just as quickly, she released it. Calm down, Smoky.

And she stepped out of the bushes, onto the path and right in front of the approaching ponies.

“Hail!” she said loudly. “I...I must talk to you.”

The Canterlot Guards turned slowly to her.

Their leader's eyes narrowed.

“Where are we even gonna find her?” Crab asked. “Either of 'em, come to think of it. Smoky's stayin' well away from the farmhouse right now, an' Scratch...well, Scratch's only home burned down.”

The four ponies were walking down the path through the orchards toward Ponyville. This road had seen a great deal of use lately.

“I'll...” Merry shrugged. “I'll think of--”

She stopped. Crab nearly bumped into her.

“What?” Crab stepped around Merry, trying to make eye contact. “What—oh.”

Right by Merry's hooves was a bit of broken purple glass.

“Can't be...” Crab muttered. “Not all the way--”

“I, um, have to go.” Merry pointed off the path. Crab saw another shard beyond, among the shrubberies.

“What?” Crab blinked. “Are you sayin'--”

But Merry was already running off.

“Just wait,” Rye whispered. “She'll be back soon enough.”

Merry ran through the bushes and tall grass, weaving through the trees, following the trail of the remains of Scratch's sunglasses.

Scratch had done things like this before, though of course never with anything so precious. Merry had a feeling that whatever lay at the end of this path, it was meant for her.

She leaped over one last shrub and found her outside the orchard. Still the trail led onward, though it was getting thinner—Scratch had been running out of parts.

And Merry was in the town. She saw Undercut Wraps trotting around nearby, apparently looking for something, but there was no time for such matters.

Because now she heard something.

What is that? she wondered. It sounds like...no. No, it can't possibly--

She entered the town square. A small crowd had formed around something at the center. Desperate, Merry pushed her way through and came face to face with...

Scratch.

Doctor Billard Scratch.

Balancing on her hind legs, and playing...an accordion.

Not just any accordion.

The accordion.

Scratch was playing it with great gusto, though she did not seem happy. The assembled ponies seemed a mix of confused and uproariously amused.

Scratch was facing the opposite direction. But just then, Scratch turned, seeming to be having trouble staying upright...and saw Merry.

She hit the wrong note.

She tripped.

Merry ran over, and found herself unable to stop laughing. “Scratch, you swore you'd throw that thing away!”

Scratch lay on the ground, panting. She looked up at Merry, and opened her mouth, but said nothing.

“I mean...” Merry rubbed her eyes with a hoof. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just...hee hee...”

Scratch got slowly to her feet, as the crowd started to disperse. “I'm gonna throw it away,” she said. “Maybe give it to the sheriff, or something.”

“Scratch, you...you didn't have to do this.” Merry realized there were tears in her eyes, but she wasn't sure if it was from amusement or sorrow.

“No, I...” Scratch sighed. “Look, Merry. I was wrong. You were right. I figured getting this stupid thing out—I can't believe it's the only thing that survived the fire—I figured it was the only way I could show you...uh...that I'm sorry.”

Merry stared at Scratch.

She had a feeling that Scratch didn't quite understand what she was saying. She was pretty sure that Scratch still didn't really get it.

But she grabbed her friend, and hugged her tight. “It's okay, Scratch. I'm sorry I can't be that for you. But you're my best friend. And if you're sorry, then...well, it's a start.”

She heard Scratch laughing. She heard the laugh turn into a struggle to hide sobs.

She hugged Scratch tighter.

“Dizzy Hooves.”

Dizzy opened her eyes.

She'd been lost in a memory.

The voice she heard was of the present.

She rolled over on the cloud and looked down.

Wraps stood on the ground, next to Ghastly Gorge. Dizzy noticed her saddlebags—which she never went without[author's-note-establish-earlier]--were full. There was also an old satchel slung across Wraps's back, equally full.

Wraps looked up at Dizzy calmly. “This will go better if you are on the ground.”

Dizzy hopped off the cloud and spiraled down beside the salesmare. “What is it?”

Wraps was looking over the edge of the Gorge. “This is a dangerous place, Hooves.”

Dizzy cocked her head, frowning. “Yes? I guess? I mean, not for a pegasus. But cliffs are kind of a hazard.” She shrugged. “Somepony could break their leg.”

Wraps glanced back at Dizzy. “Or their neck. This is a very deep ravine, Hooves.”

“Um...”

Wraps rolled her eyes. “I am going to explain this quickly, Hooves.”

“Why do you keep calling--”

“I am not much of a speaker on these matters. My specialty lies in selling merchandise. So I am going to keep this brief.”

Dizzy cocked her head the other way. “Okay?”

“Your eyes are askew.”

“Yes.”

Dizzy scratched her neck. Wait, what?

Wraps pointed at Dizzy. “Just as Heartstrings has her madness, and Punch has her alcoholism, you have your eyes. What makes you different?”

Oh.

“Uh...well...” Dizzy looked away from Wraps's strangely angry gaze. Was it supposed to be Dizzy's fault this had only occurred to Wraps now?

Dizzy found herself growing angry. She did her best to contain it, but she knew bits were seeping out. “I'm sorry you took this long to notice my...” She almost swore. “...eyes weren't 'normal', Wraps. But how's that my problem? You're the one who didn't detect. It's not like I concealed anything. How would I? A pair of buckin' sunglasses like Scratch's?”

Wraps dipped her head. “I acknowledge that it was my fault in not noticing.” She reached into one of her saddlebags. “And I plan to rectify that error now.”

Dizzy took a step back. She had a strange feeling of foreboding.

...or their neck....this is a very deep ravine, Hooves....

Then Wraps pulled out a checkered red-and-white tablecloth.

Dizzy cocked her head back again. “...what?”

Wraps flapped the cloth, and laid it down flat on the sand. She reached into her saddlebags again and pulled out a small brown bag with her mouth.

“Uh...what's your intention, Wraps?”

Wraps laid the bag on the cloth. She looked at Dizzy, still looking calm. Her voice, however, had a faint tremor to it Dizzy could just detect. “We are going to have a picnic, Dizzy. There is no difference between you and them. You are not stupid, and you are my friend.”

She paused. She quickly reached back into her saddlebags, and Dizzy had a feeling it was just to hide her face. “Even if I am not yours. And I am going to make amends here and now.”

Dizzy stared. Wraps pulled out a pair of cups, and a flask. She began pouring lemonade with one hoof as she took two sandwiches out of the bag.

“Wraps.”

Wraps ignored her, setting the sandwiches down and reaching back into the bag.

“Wraps,” Dizzy repeated.

The blue-maned earth pony pulled out a slice of cake in a glass cake, which she slid over to Dizzy. “This is from the Apple family farm. You said once you liked their cakes. It was hard to persuade Smith to sell it to me, but when I agreed to shut down the--”

“Wraps!” Dizzy said.

Wraps fell silent. She looked at Dizzy.

Dizzy put a hoof on her friend's shoulder. “It's okay, Wraps. I...” She sighed. “Look, Wraps. I meant what I said back there.”

Wraps wilted.

“I mean,” Dizzy quickly went on, “I meant what I said about your being cruel to Hairtrigger. But...” She looked down at the picnic. “I didn't mean what I asserted about us. About us not being friends.” She looked at Wraps, smiling. She could tell she was crying, but she didn't mind. These weren't angry tears like before, nor were they guilty tears. They belonged. “You are my friend, Wraps. You always have been.”

Wraps stared.

Then, she reached over the picnic, grabbed Dizzy, and hugged her. She didn't say anything.

Dizzy returned the hug, chuckling quietly.

Then, she pulled back. “Now...I think we need to go have a talk with the others. Especially Hairtrigger.”

“I'm not going to press charges,” Wraps said quickly. Her eyes darted back and forth. She didn't seem sure if she'd said the right thing.

She never had been good at that.

“I know.” Dizzy ran her hoof down Wraps's mane, as Wraps had done for her in the past. “But I think there's more to talk about than ethics, right?

“It's time to remember morals, Wraps. Those stories the teachers read us back in school?” Dizzy started folding up the tablecloth. “They're a lot more relevant than we realize.”

Crab, Basalteus and Rye met up with Scratch and Merry halfway to Ponyville.

The question remained: where was Smoky?

They arrived at the town shortly after, having still failed to find their wayward mare.

“This ain't good...” Crab muttered.

“I'm sure she just went for a walk,” Merry said.

Scratch rolled her eyes and opened her mouth, but quickly closed it, looking guilty.

“She, um...” Rye winced. “She really should have been in the orchard. I don't know where she's gone.”

“All the same,” Basalteus said, “I believe Doctor Scratch may have a point. Even if she is too tactful to say so—a reasonable act of caution—it is important to consider, without jumping to conclusions...”

“What?” Crab scowled. “That she's run for it? Ain't she your friend?”

Basalteus actually looked a little hurt. “I...am Ms. Mirror's friend. But if we ignore the truth--”

“Yeah, back off,” Scratch snapped. “Rocky's right. What if she did run? We just gonna ignore that possibility?”

Crab hesitated, then nodded. Can't believe I just got scolded by Scratch. “Sorry, Basalteus. It's just that I'd really rather not have to consider that...”

“That Smoky betrayed you.” Merry put a hoof on Crab's arm. “If she runs, suspicion might fall on you. She knows that. She won't run.”

“Indeed. The Mighty And Fearsome Smoky Mirror does not run!”

Crab turned, along with the others. Smoky stood there, in her black cloak, grinning her demented showmare grin...accompanied by three guards.

“Smoky!” Crab's eyes widened. “Did--”

“I am fine.” Smoky put up a hoof, blocking any queries. “I have indeed come to a decision, with the help of the esteemed and wise innkeeper you know as Doc Scratch.”

“Uh, it's Doctor Scratch,” Scratch snapped. “Or Scratch. Or--”

She fell silent as Merry looked at her askance.

“Anyways!” Smoky went on. “I have spoken to these excellent law enforcement officials, and we have come to an agreement. I will help in the recovery of the three eggs. Even if the mother is long gone, they can at least be placed in environments known to be safe and healthy. Schools, the houses of certain royals...”

Crab blinked. “Does that mean--”

“In exchange for my generous assistance,” Smoky went on, “charges will not be filed against the Apple family. And once the fell fool felons are found, the following disfavor filed on me will be significantly less aggressive than it would have been otherwise.”

“...as in?”

“What this mare is trying to say,” one of the guards said, scowling, “is that if she helps us track down and apprehend the criminals by way of her divinations and personal knowledge of their plans, we will reduce her charges and make certain the sentences are much less unpleasant. If she's lucky, she'll only spend a few years.”

“We realize that she regrets what she did,” another guard said, “and that she could have tried to escape. She possibly could have succeeded—we scarcely even knew she existed until she approached us. While this does not negate the severity of her crimes...”

“...it does cause us to look upon her with significantly less hostility,” the third guard finished.

Crab and the others blinked.

“Ooookay,” Scratch said. “So what you're saying here is she's gonna help you guys if you make her sentence smaller. That could've been way shorter, you know.”

“Smoky,” Crab said, “can Basalteus an' I speak with you in private? That alright with your new friends?”

Smoky glanced behind her. The guards shrugged.

She trotted off with her two friends.

“Are you sure about this?” Crab hissed. “Short or no, you'll be spendin' time in prison. That place ain't for laughs.”

“I am certain.” Smoky nodded. She didn't look happy, but she looked...relieved. She had shouldered off a burden. “I...bucked up. I must undo my wickedness in whatever way I can.” She smiled, tearing up a little. “I will return, Crab. Basalteus. You two and Dizzy are my friends. My only friends. When I leave prison, I will return here. I will.”

Basalteus nodded. “Very well. When must you leave?”

“In the morning.” Smoky sighed. “I am being given time to say my goodbyes. They seem angry, but they seem to understand. The law is not as harsh in Equestria as it is where I am from.”

Crab blinked. “Where you're--”

“Do not fear.” Smoky wiped a tear off her cheek. “I will explain to you when I return. It is a story for another time.” She hesitated. “If...I do not return...”

“Don't say that!” Crab said. “You don't want to see me cry. It ain't pretty.”

“...ask Gustava Le Grand. You'll find her in Canterlot. She can explain, if you really want to know.”

Basalteus chuckled.

It was a sound rarely heard, so Crab and Smoky were both a bit stunned.

“I am confident that you shall return, Smoky. The prisons are not an unpleasant place.” He reached over and squeezed Smoky's hoof. “Do not worry. Most of those there are similar to you—ponies who made mistakes and chose to atone.”

Smoky nodded mutely.

“Do not fear, Smoky Mirror.” Basalteus smiled slightly. “I expect the food has improved since my final sampling.”

Smoky blinked.

Crab turned to Basalteus, staring.

Basalteus turned and walked back to the others. Unsure, Smoky and Crab followed.

It was not long before Dizzy and Wraps arrived, each munching cucumber sandwiches. Little explanation was given, and none was asked for—even Scratch seemed to have an inkling that tact was called for.

And it was not long from then that the group arrived at Wraps's house.

“What are we going to do?” Merry asked. “Turn her over to the law?”

Wraps looked at Dizzy, and said nothing.

“I dunno...” Dizzy said, looking nervous. “I mean..well, they'll put her somewhere pretty unpleasant, I'm guessing. Somewhere like that, uh, asylum. I can't see her getting better there.”

Smoky nodded. “Ponies have a great deal to learn about mental health yet. The asylum is reserved for those who have no hope.”

Wraps looked at Dizzy again. Dizzy shrugged.

Wraps looked around. “I don't want to be the 'wet blanket', but can we not assume that this 'Rosin Wheel' has no hope?” She gestured to her injured leg.[author's-note-clarify-this-earlier] “She tried to kill us all, for no clear reason. I hate to be the one to say it, but perhaps she belongs behind bars.

Nopony answered.

The ponies looked between each other.

Wraps sighed. “Alright. I will go down and gauge her mood. It is my house, and I will not be afraid to enter it. If she is willing to be receptive, perhaps something can be done.”

She opened the door, went in, and closed it behind her.

The house was dark. The curtains had been drawn—something about creating a more 'calming environment'.

Wraps didn't like to admit it, but she was nervous.

She went around the sales stall, and to the trapdoor in the corner.

After a moment's hesitation, she reached down and opened the trapdoor.

Descending onto the stairs was always a little hazardous, and never before had it been this nerve wracking. The prison had been very makeshift. If Rosin had escaped...

Wraps walked down the stairs, and came to the floor of the basement. The stairs almost went up against the wall of the far side. Rosin was beneath them, around the corner.

She heard talking.

“And...well, I didn't know what to do.”

Wraps froze. Is that Heartstrings?

“I just gave her all she needs to really kill me. I got mad, and now...well, I'll be lucky if I make it into a normal jail. Wraps is a really good lawyer, from what I've heard. She'll destroy me.”

“What will you do?” This voice Wraps didn't recognize. It sounded hoarse, like just speaking was a major struggle rarely attempted.

“I...” Heartstrings laughed nervously. “I guess I'll run. There's nothing for me here. Even if those humans never come—I mean, I know they won't, but even though I know, I can't...convince myself, right? I know the shades I see are just that. Silhouettes I'm looking at wrong. But...they're always there. But even if it weren't for the humans...I have to leave. It's either that or join my cousin. I'll break, I know I will. I'm not strong.”

“So you will run.”

There was a silence. Wraps assumed Heartstrings was nodding.

“Please don't,” Wraps said.

Her eyes widened. Had she just spoken?

That was probably the stupidest thing she had ever done.

The ponies beneath the stairs were silent.

Then, “...Undercut?”

The jig was up. Wraps shuffled around the corner, and came face-to-face with Heartstrings and Rosin. Rosin was still in her cage, Wraps noted. “I...I'm sorry, Heartstrings.”

She took a deep breath. “I...know that this will not suffice. It will never suffice. I don't know why I developed this vendetta against you. I don't know why I pursued it so vehemently. The reasons I gave myself no longer make sense. They never did.” The words were escaping her frantically, as if they had been held prisoner for years and had finally gotten their chance. “I knew you weren't dangerous. Maybe I even knew you weren't really insane, just...paranoid. Because you aren't, you know. You aren't insane. You're paranoid. It's an obsession. Nothing more. You can get the help you need. I can even pay for it. Or somepony else can.”

Wraps found herself struggling not to trip over her words. She was an articulate pony by careful practice, but maintaining this emotional burst was almost beyond her capabilities. “But I th-think that I mostly bothered you because I was—and possibly am—a cruel pony. Dizzy isn't normal. I leave her alone because I've known her since we were fillies. How is that fair? I act like morals are beneath me. They aren't, and it's time I...remember a-all those rhymes and stories my teachers taught me, because the lessons they imparted clearly did not stick. Dizzy isn't normal, and you aren't normal, and you know what?” Wraps had completely lost control by this point. Her voice was wavering with terror—and perhaps a bit of guilt, a new emotion for her—but she kept going. “It doesn't matter. I'm not normal. I'm selling the shop. No, I'm donating the shop. You can have it, if you want, or I can give it to somepony else. That Rye is a breadbaker, I'm sure she would appreciate a dwelling.” What am I saying? Donate the shop? That's excessive, I'm certain of it. “Perhaps this time spent like a...well, spent without all that I've gotten used to will remind me. Cruelty is cruelty. Why would I live to cause pain? I need a better purpose than that. So--”

“Wraps.” Hairtrigger's eyes had narrowed. “Shut. Up.”

Wraps shut up.

“Leave. I don't want to see you.”

Wraps nodded numbly. She turned and started to head back upstairs.

“Wait,” Hairtrigger suddenly said.

Wraps turned back.

“You're dropping charges, right?”

Wraps nodded frantically. “Of course. And there are actually charges you can file on me, you know. What I did qualifies as harassment. I can refer you to a few lawyers who would probably take your case pro bono. I have a list--”

Hairtrigger held up a hoof, closing her eyes. “Just...okay, whatever. I'm not going to..well, whatever. Get out. I can't think about this right now.”

Wraps started up the stairs.

“Wait!” Hairtrigger called again.

Wraps stopped. Hairtrigger was out of sight now, behind the wall.

“...I'd say thanks, but you know what? You don't deserve it. So just...whatever. I appreciate you saying thanks. It's not enough, but it's...somewhere.”

Wraps's eyes widened, despite her efforts to regain control.

She ran up the stairs, climbed up the ladder and closed the trapdoor.

Only then did she realize she was giggling like a schoolfilly.

“You...your father. He kicked me off his wagon.”

Scratch blinked. “What?”

Seven of the eight ponies had entered the basement. Wraps had chosen to stay upstairs.

Rosin had been silent for a moment. Then she had singled Scratch out.

“I thought you. Were him.” Rosin cleared her throat. It sounded a bit painful. “He. I was starving and injured. He kicked me off his wagon. Left me to die.” She paused. “His driver gave food.”

“She's been through a lot,” Heartstrings said to the assembled ponies. “Her parents abandoned her in that forest. Just like...well, she spent most of her childhood there.”

“What forest?” Crab asked.

“Shade.” Rosin cocked her head. “Hollow Shade. Forest to...east. Stole food from the Alchemist. He caught me. Gave me work.”

Smoky frowned. “I...know of that Alchemist.”

Rosin looked at Smoky, eyes suddenly widened.

“He was an enemy of mine,” Smoky went on, looking a bit nervous from Rosin's stare. “He tried to steal some of my secrets. He wanted to use them to rule the world. I heard he blew himself up in a work accident.”

Rosin stared. Hairtrigger looked at her. “Tell them what you told me.”

“I...” Rosin cleared her throat again. It sounded just as painful this time. “I killed him.” She bowed her head, and a tear hit the floor. “I blew him up. He starved me. Hit me sometimes. I needed the powder. I knew I could sell it.”

Smoky was the one staring now. “But...I understand about killing him. He was an evil stallion. He had a lot of blood on his hooves. But you never did sell the keg.”

Rosin shrugged, still looking down. “Needed it. Scratch...he expected me to die. I...I just wanted to escape.”

More tears were falling now. Hairtrigger reached through the bars, patting Rosin on the back. “No,” she whispered. “It's okay.”

Basalteus tapped the ground, clearing his throat.

Everypony in the basement turned to face him—even Rosin in the cage, and Wraps hiding around the corner, trying to seem inconspicuous.

“There is precedent for this,” he said. “Rosin Wheel clearly was not in her right mind. If a mental professional can be--”

Merry tapped the ground as well.

“I, um...” She looked around, and realized she had everypony's attention. She hesitated.

Crab put a hoof on her arm. He himself seemed surprised at this act.

Merry smiled at him. “I...I think I could convince an old friend of mine to pay a visit. He's in Trottingham, but he sort of moves around. His specialty isn't in psychology, but he's pretty good at it.”

“An 'old friend'?” Scratch asked, frowning.

“Yes. Sort of.” Merry shrugged. “I don't know him very well, but he's always hanging out with my sister. He's nice. Oldish unicorn. Kind of confusing cutie mark, but that's not really..” She coughed. “Anyways. I think I could get him to come down. He's really good at a lot of things, from what I hear. Among those things is reading ponies. I'll bet he could help.”

“Well,” Crab said, “I'm inclined to trust your judgment.”

He looked around. Dizzy stood out of the way, talking quietly to Wraps. Scratch was eavesdropping, but trying to be subtle about it.

Basalteus was saying something to Rosin he couldn't hear, and Smoky and Heartstrings were nodding at whatever it was.

Merry stood right beside Crab. She was leaning on him again, but he found that he didn't mind.

Rye was crouching on his other side. She hadn't spoken. She'd done what she could.

Crab smiled at her. “Hey. Buttered Rye, right?”

Rye nodded nervously.

“Would you like to try some of our cider back home?”

Rye's eyes darted about. “Um...okay.”

Crab looked around. “I think everypony here could do with a cup of cider an' some pie.”

Merry looked at him, smiling. “Any tea?”

Crab considered it. “Maybe a little. Well? Who here's game?”

Basalteus reached over and unlocked the cage. “I believe such a get-together would be healthy for Rosin, if she wishes.”

Rosin hesitated. She looked at Hairtrigger, who smiled and nodded.

“Okay.” Rosin stepped out and stood beside the mint unicorn.

“Alright. Let's get out o' this basement 'fore it gets any more crowded.”

Scratch nodded, grinning. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

Wraps was already hurrying up the stairs with Dizzy.

The others filed after them.

Everypony but Merry, Crab and Smoky.

Smoky cackled. “Then let us throw The Mighty And Fearsome Smoky Mirror a goodbye party like no other!”

Her horn glowed, and she vanished in an explosion of colorful smoke.

Upstairs, Crab heard an explosion, and Smoky shouting, “Sorry! Still getting the hang of that trick!”

Shaking his head, Crab turned to Merry. He found that Merry was smiling widely at him. “Are we going to go, then?”

Crab shrugged. “I guess it'd be best to go. They're gonna make a mess of the farm if we don't hurry.”

Merry nodded, still smiling. She walked over to the stairs, then glanced back and beckoned. “Come on. Let's make sure they don't eat all of that pie.”

Crab trotted after Merry, chuckling.

He had good reason to chuckle. Friendship was a funny thing.

Sometimes, it seemed so fragile. Like the merest breeze could collapse the oldest of bonds.

But in fact, the bond was only flexing. A moment later, it could be restored.

Things didn't always work out like that.

But pride and spite aside, things often did.

Friendship was magic that way. And two generations later—many generations, in fact, more than could be easily counted—it would still be thus.

And Mighty and Fearsome or no, magic's wielders were not forces to be trifled with.