Hēafodweard, Sē Ōþer: Sē Bōchorsling

Heya everypony!

Ponyville’s getting fresh faces! You know what that means!

Surprise party!

No, just kidding! Everypony’s had one too many surprises, and so we’re welcoming Lyra and Holright with a good old-fashioned regular, non-surprise party!

Come to the park at 6:00 P.M. sharp (hee hee, a rhyme!) to join the fun! Because the Guards are being a bunch of ███████████ ponies, only 50 ponies can come, so it’s first come, first serve!

See ya there!

Pinkie Pie

“They had to censor the party invitation too, huh?” Etheigh read the letter through his reading glasses, both of which were being held in Gorthy’s green levitation aura as they approached the rail line checkpoint. “Everything in the name of public order.”

“If what thou toldst me about Trottingham is correct, ’tis needed in some places.” That statement ground against both of their politics, but it was a fair point. “Before thou ascribest our attitudes to Lady Pie, however, she wrote ‘grumpy lumpy’ in the invitation.”

Typical Royal Guards.

A stark contrast, however, was immediately presented. When they got to the checkpoint, true to Lieutenant Hold’s word, Lieutenant Hold made the now-unreal act of simply stepping aside. Even had the civility to wave and bid Etheigh, “Have fun at the party, Mr. Holright!”

He respectfully bowed his head, and Gorthy did as well. “Thank you, good Lieutenant,” Etheigh replied.

Think not I notice not the black ink for the most polite descriptors of what ye are.

When they passed through, Etheigh sneaked a sight at Gorthy. After he’d given him his cloth, Gorthy had showed him around their house, which included a small library that doubled as Etheigh’s own study. When he'd brought him upstairs to tour the rooms, and they reached their room, they’d... Well, afterwards both had needed to get a wash. Together.

Ever since they were six year old foals in Lady Speechcraft's had always represented something he never really found in anypony else. Somepony who, defiant of those who bullied Etheigh, had stuck by his side, who cared for him when others did not. Who defended him when others would not. Etheigh still had a foalish nickname for Gorthy after all these years: his Guardspony. Not Guard, Guardspony.

Even now, his Guardspony’s visage set his heart aflutter.

“I love thee,” Etheigh said.

Those red eyes, Etheigh, were as his own heart. “And thee.”

After their fun in the bathroom, Gorthy had given him the party invitation. That a party was to be held right now, as Royal Guards occupied the streets of a farm village, boggled Etheigh's mind. Back in Coltchester, they were just beginning to open public places such as businesses or parks to limited numbers of the public. Even if the party had a capacity of 50, that Lieutenant Hold would allow it, when Ponyville was so intensely occupied, was as unusual as it was...

“...Thou’rt sure the party is safe, Gorthy?” Etheigh asked.

“Yea, I’m sure.”

“But there may be unsafe ponies there.”

“Yea.”

“Why are we going, then?”

“Because it’s safe.”

In all the time since Etheigh had started seriously taking Gorthy’s advice about safety, Gorthy had never once said a party was safe. Not once. Why, then, was he considering a public party safe, at which ponies there would be unsafe ponies, at a place that, if he understood correctly, was but a short distance from the very unsafe Everfree, at one of the most unsafe times in Equestrian history...?

...

...Ah, well. Gorthy wasn’t a careless pony like Etheigh could be. There had to be something he was missing because of that. After crossing the bridge into town, Etheigh watched a two-by-three column of Guards march through the market square, moving in lockstep. Both Etheigh and Gorthy slowed, not wanting to get too close.

“Hopefully,” Gorthy said. “The librarian will be there. I can assure thee, Etheigh, they are safe. In fact, they are even more safe than the party, or even anypony else who liveth here. Except for me, of course.”

“Why talkest thou about the librarian?”

“Oh, no reason.” Gorthy looked off towards the sky as they started through the square. “No reason at all.” Etheigh wasn’t going to ever manage to get Gorthy to tell the truth about whatever it was about the librarian. He had his reasons, though, so he wouldn’t question them.

Trying to get further advice, Etheigh inquired, “So what am I supposed to do at the party, if there’s unsafe ponies?”

“Talk to ponies. I’ll stop thee if thou talkest to an unsafe one.”

Etheigh had to admit, that brought the teensiest bit of unease. Nevertheless, it was fair. A thought crossed his mind, and he excitedly asked, “Canst thou introduce me to Lord Order?”

The excited grin on Etheigh's face slowly spread to Gorthy's eyes. “...Of course, Etheigh!”

As they exited the square and trotted down the road, Etheigh's excitement only swelled.

This was it. Today was the day he was meeting Tall Order, former Realm District Attorney for Her Radiant Majesty's Prefecture in Manehattan. A legend who had brought down corruption, organized crime rings, and had fought against fundamental rights violations by the Manehattan City-Provincial government. Somepony who only ever lost a legal battle after gargantuan efforts by the other party in a case. When Tall Order had finally said he was done after six decades in his position six years prior, like the pegasus dictator of old, Cincinneightus, he had retired to the countryside.

Doctor Groundlaw was a personal friend of Order, which was why Etheigh was going to his apprentice-

Something smacked into Etheigh's seasonal mask, and he instinctively shrieked. Immediately, Gorthy seized Etheigh. “What's wrong!?” he shouted.

“Nothing! Something hit my muzzle!” he yelped.

A few ponies were giving him stares, including a Royal Guard. That was not good. Not safe. If they knew Etheigh was a scared little pony, that put a target on his back. Gorthy stepped back, shaking his head, his eyes about saying as much. “...Be more careful, Etheigh,” he said. He focused on Etheigh's nose, and a green aura enveloped something that was brought before Etheigh's eyes. “‘Tis but a feather.”

He started to relax. Just a feather. A small feather that looked it had come from a pegasus, judging by...

“...Etheigh?”

“There’s... blood, on the feather.”

Etheigh’s gaze was directed at his coltfriend, but it focused on the building behind him. It was a two-story house, of the same architecture as most of Ponyville. There was, however, one glaring difference between it and its surroundings: a pony sized hole in the wall. A suspiciously fresh-looking coat of paint lined the intact walls nearest it.

“...Gorthy...” He looked at his coltfriend, talking in a hushed whisper. “I told thee they just ordered everypony to get indoors and keep warm in Coltchester. What happened here?”

Gorthy blinked from behind his own mask. “...Right now, ‘tis the time for thy welcome party and blissful ignorance. Thou’lt find out soon enough, I wager.”

That feather was incinerated before Etheigh’s eyes, collapsing into a pile of ash at his hooves. His jaw slightly parted. “Gorthy, that was-”

“Blissful ignorance, Etheigh.” He nudged his head down the road towards some building with a carousel on top. “Come thither.”

He bit his lip, then nodded and started trotting alongside his coltfriend. It was only by the time they had reached a sign for the carousel building, reading its name was Carousel Boutique, that conversation began again. “I am going to keep an eye on that ‘Lyra’ mare thou sawest before. I am unsure of her safety, Etheigh.”

He knew it. Once again, his judgement was faulty. Even though Gorthy hadn’t outright said she was unsafe, which was an important distinction, the fact that he’d just trusted her from the outset displayed how much of a careless pony he was.

Sadly, he sighed, “...Okay...”

A weight of magic pressed upon the back of his neck, massaging him. “Be not saddened by thy lack of sight, Etheigh. There are several ponies at this party, hopefully including the librarian, who are safe.” Gorthy’s voice was warm as they headed onto a dirt path leading through the trees behind Carousel Boutique to a small mass of ponies in the distance.

Anxiety built in Etheigh at that sight. Gorthy was a remarkably talented unicorn because of his familiarity with older literature, having been the star of arcane clubs in both high school and university. But parties meant lots of ponies, and if everypony found out just how much of a weakling Etheigh was, what could Gorthy do? All it took, all it would take, is a single unicorn noticing how awfully slow and restricted Etheigh was with his own magic, and it would all go downhill-

“Relax, Etheigh.” He put up a hoof to stop him, and his eyes had a greater confidence than Etheigh had seen in a long time. “I would not have thee come here if I believed this party was unsafe.” Etheigh started to nod, but then the horseshoe of the hoof halting him was brought up against his chin. “I would not have thy hoofsome face come here if I believed it were to be blemished.”

He slightly blushed. “Okay,” he affirmed more resolutely. “I love thee, Gorthy.”

“And I thee.” The blue unicorn pressed his horn against Etheigh’s. “I cannot give thee my horn no matter how much I wish at times, Etheigh, but I vow that I should not leave thy side as has been the case.”

“...Thank thee.”

Gorthy parted from Etheigh, glancing down the road. He looked back at the unicorn, and simply said, “I think I see the pony thou wantest to meet.”

It took every bit of the cultivated Coltchester manners and restraint in Etheigh not to charge forth like a little foal. There, standing at the edge of the treeline talking with a lime green terran mare, was the now grey-coated, blue-grey maned terran stallion, clad in a sharp business suit. Not a trace was left of his brown coat, which, as rumor had it, had greyed because of the stress of his work.

Trotting forward with a near bounce in his step, he approached one of his living idols. When he got within earshot, he immediately bowed and slowed his walk over, approaching him as he would a mare of a house.

“...I’m telling you, Justice, I’m hoping she doesn’t come.” He’d never heard his voice, although the Canterbury tilt assured him this was not just the pony of his hopes and dreams, but one who might provide another safe anchor in this place where the military patrolled the streets, and ponies waved bare hooves and would come to be nude.

“I think it’s important we just have this moment...” The mare’s voice briefly drifted off. “Why, hello there Mr. Eldwrit,” the mare greeted.

“Oh, Mr. Eldwrit!” Etheigh halted, hearing the stallion approach. “Hello!”

“Hello, Lord Order.” There was an angle in Gorthy’s voice. Something that, for the briefest of moments, rose before vanishing without a trace. It was there and gone so fast that Etheigh could not be sure it had been there at all.

“And this must be Mr. Holright.”

He’s saying my name! He’s saying my name!

“Lord Order,” he greeted. He kept his head bowed. Much like a mare of a house, he, as a good Coltchesterite, had to profess honor of the granter of hospitality, and give thanks for that generosity. “I am honored that ye should take myself as your apprentice. After your storied career, I can only grant your gift of a lifetime my deepest, and humblest gratitude.”

“Thank you, Mr. Holright.”

He’s thanking me! Me!

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been in Albay. It’s good to see that, even with the world as it is, Coltchester still finds its manners.” Etheigh’s head rose, meeting the golden-eyed gaze and warm smile of the legal celebrity. “I’ve been eager to take somepony Groundlaw is so confident in.”

He fought to not burst into tears. He...!

Gorthy was giving Tall Order the unsafe glare. At least until he noticed Etheigh had risen, and he suddenly looked just as happy and confident as before. Though perturbed, Etheigh responded as if he hadn’t noticed it. “I am indebted to Doctor Groundlaw, good Lord, as I shall be to you.”

“Please, Mr. Holright." Tall Order offered a (horseshoed) hoof, and Etheigh had to fight not to try and imitate the vigor of a terran when he shook it. “I’m sure your debt will be outweighed by others’ debts to you.”

He thinks I’m...!?

His eyes went past Etheigh, and his hoof raised to wave. “Oh, hi Deerie!” He gestured to Etheigh to turn around, and he was met with three pegasi mares. A blue one with a rainbow mane and a wing that had been put in a cast, a yellow one with a pink mane staring at the ground, and a light brown mare easily twice their age, judging by the greying mane.

The brown mare smiled. “Hey, Tall!”

The stallion in question sidled past Etheigh, who stuck by his idol’s side. “Etheigh, this is my wife, Deer Lore.” Deer Lore. Etheigh recalled her to be Tall Order’s second wife (his first wife, a unicorn named Scope Carve, having passed of old age a decade and a half prior). Odd name for a pony. “Along with Ms. Fluttershy here, she studies the wildlife of the Everfree.” Etheigh’s eyes widened, and Tall Order, who had been looking at him as he said that, grinned. “See, Deerie? Another pony who thinks your idea of ‘retirement without retiring’ is worse than mine,” he teased.

Etheigh had to prevent his jaw from dropping. Even in teasing jest, a good Coltchester stallion did not talk to his mare in such a manner so publicly. This mare just giggled and shook her head.

Truly, Equestria was a vast realm.

“...um...hi...Councilpony Order...” Fluttershy, whose voice was barely audible, seemed to hide behind her mane. She, for a split second, chanced a peek at Etheigh. “...hi...Holright...”

“Lady Fluttershy.” He lowered his eyes out of respect for a second.

Deer Lore looked at the younger mare, and warmly smiled, rubbing her with her wing. “See, Fluttershy?” she quietly spoke. “That wasn’t so bad.” That tone reminded Etheigh of somepony from college. The notecard pony. Somepony who...

...

...Gorthy said they were extraordinarily unsafe. The most unsafe pony at the University of Coltchester. Even though Etheigh was foolish enough to not think that at the time. Besides, Gorthy sort of made him feel as the notecard pony had, and he was far more certainly safe.

“Uh, hey Holright.” The rainbow mare tried to wave a wing towards the party, but winced in pain. “Come on Flutters,” she grunted. “Let’s go say hi to Lyra.”

“...o-okay...”

The rainbow mare pointed a bare hoof at Tall Order. True to Gorthy’s mad advice, Tall Order didn’t seem to take any sort of offense from it. Even though that hoof had been who knew where. “She’s not coming, right?”

“I hope not.”

The rainbow mare sighed, and walked down the path towards the crowd. Fluttershy meekly followed her, and, with a nod to her husband, Deer Lore did too. Gorthy was expressionless. “Ms. Fluttershy, Ms. Dash, and their friends have been through a lot the past couple of weeks,” Tall Order quietly informed Etheigh. “...Don’t ask them about it.”

“I’m going to go ahead, Holright, Lord Order, and find some ponies I think Etheigh would want to meet.” Gorthy, who had been near expressionless, turned towards Etheigh with a smile. “Take thy time with Lord Order, Etheigh.”

“Good seeing you, Mr. Eldwrit.” The way Tall Order was saying that, it sounded like it was almost forced.

Gorthy glanced back, his eyes slightly narrowing. “And you, Lord Order.” He trotted off without a bow or another word.

What was the problem? Gorthy said Tall Order was safe.

“Here, Mr. Holright...” He turned and walked back to the terran mare he’d been speaking with before. “This is Justice Gavel. She’s the local judge.”

He respectfully bowed. “Judge Gavel.”

The mare chuckled. “Polite as a Coltchester stallion, indeed!”

“Normally, she - we - don’t have a particularly full plate, but, well...” Tall Order didn’t need to say the rest. Coltchester was the same. “On the bright side, though, you’ll have plenty of work from me, Holright...”

Again, he looked behind Etheigh. The unicorn glanced back to find a grey-maned, but paradoxically young-looking tan terran marching towards them. She did not look happy in the slightest. “...Why don’t you go on ahead to your welcome party, Mr. Holright? I think I need to have a word with the mayor.”

Although it was disappointing for Etheigh to part from the rock star, that mare’s look did not make him feel safe in the slightest. Respectfully, he bowed to Tall Order, and hastily made his way down the path.

“Now hold on, Mayor-”

“Get out of my way,” the mare growled.

Yep. Definitely hurrying down the path. When he reached the end, he entered a small park with a fountain in the center. About ten Royal Guards were sparsely interspersed along the edges, statuesque as ever, their cloaks blending with the various shades of green the grass and trees had. He began to look over the crowd when, from nowhere, a pink terran bounced up in front of him.

“Hey there!” a cheerful voice greeted. He yelped, falling back onto his flanks. “Ooh, sorry, sorry!” A hoof was offered to him by a mare whose smile seemed infectious. “I forget, no surprises right now!” she giggled.

“...’Tis fine,” he breathed. He quickly searched for Gorthy. A brief nod from the unicorn, and he relaxed. Safe. “Ye are, good Lady?”

“Silly pony, I’m not ‘good Lady’, I’m Pinkie Pie! I put together this party!”

“Er... Holright, Lady Pie.”

“That’s why you’ve got the old-timey clothes!” She spoke as if she had made some grand discovery. Then, as if a fire had been cast in her mind, she jumped up. “Ooh, I should get Rarity!” With a speed only a terran could wield, the pony zipped off. He stared at where she had been for a moment, before shaking his head.

Trying to get a sense of who was here and potentially safe before the pink one came back with “Rarity”, he surveyed the partygoers. As expected in a town founded by them, most were terrans. He caught sight of Lyra, though he hesitated about deciding to go over to her after Pinkie came back. Gorthy still had to make his decision about her. There was some grey, blond-maned pegasus who seemed safe enough as well-

The pink pony again appeared from nowhere. This time, he merely jumped instead of falling over. “Ooh, sorry-!”

“Oh, by Her Radiant Majesty!” a mare called. In an instant, something white was upon him. A mare with makeup, a very well-kept blue mane and tail, and a far better sense of dress than most ponies there was suddenly in front of him. For a second, the “piece of meat” look in her eye led him he to believe he was about to get felt up by a mare whose heat was getting to them.

Then, she said five words which made it clear that she was something far, far worse.

“This is traditional Coltchester costume!”

She was the horrific, terrible beast that good Coltchesterites called “a tourist”. In the periphery of his vision, Gorthy smirked at him with the most evil grin. Pinkie didn’t seem too far behind him, cackling as she bounced away.

“Good-” He tried to stop the inevitable. He really did. Yet every good Coltchesterite knew that “the tourist” was an annoying, but safe creature that would not leave somepony alone until they had had their way, or a good Coltchesterite snapped and lost their politeness. Not all tourists were actually “tourists”, but both were only tolerated because of the business they brought.

“The cloak - oh, I love the red, and the redder inside...!” Against his will, his cloak was lifted up. “This must have been stitched by Pin & Hoof!”

Oh no. She wasn’t just “a tourist”.

She was “the tourist” who bothered to read about Coltchester.

Silently, he began to pray that something, anything, would get him out of this. There was nothing one could do for this type of “tourist”. Even if you started openly commanding them to leave you alone, they would find something you did in that act to become fascinated about and further pester you about. The best one could do is hope for divine intervention, so that half of one's day was not wasted with them.

“Oh, and I love the grey of the leggings and undercoat!” The way her head was bending down, to look the clothes beneath his cloak over, it took a good Coltchesterite to know that she wasn’t eyeing him up. In “that way”, at least. A hoof suddenly played with the clothing upon his neck. “Oh, and the frills! The frills-!”

“Damn it Rarity, get off ‘em! He ain’t no poniquette!” Oh, Her Radiant Majesty was merciful! Saved, by what sounded like a country farmer - a rare demographic of tourist, but one which never was “a tourist”.

The mare flushed and embarrassedly smiled, backing away. “Ahem, apologies.”

His terran, orange savior limped over, pointing her bare hoof at the mare. Like any good tourist-hating Coltchesterite, Etheigh wished the terran was using that gesture to mean what it should mean. “If ah didn’t know better, ah’d say ya were trahin’ t’ jump ‘em!”

Both Rarity and Etheigh blushed. “Forgive me, Holright, isn’t it?” the unicorn coughed.

“Yea, good Lady,” he answered. With a slight snark, he responded, “‘Tis fine. I’m used to tourists.”

The terran snorted, and the unicorn was now red. “I, um, I’ll talk to you later!”

The mare trotted off, and the terran rolled her eyes. “Ah’ll just introduce mahself raht quick so ah don’t holdja up. Ah’m Applejack, and ah help run Sweet Apple Acres.”

Great. Wonderful. His country farmer savior was also one of the Apples. Forcing a smile that couldn’t be seen, he tortured himself into politely responding. “Good Lady,” he replied. He even slightly bowed.

“Ya want some good Apple-family quality apples, jus’ look in the market.”

The sales pitch. Spoken like a true Apple. She tipped her cowpony hat, slightly wincing. He noticed that her clothes, which weren’t anything fancy beyond a basic skirt and front clothes, weren’t covering her left foreleg. The upper part of it was bandaged. It had to be some bad farming accident. It took a lot to make terrans physically display pain, much less induce pain to begin with.

Again, he forced a bow. Her eyes briefly turned towards the path to the village proper, and she snarled. “Ya better not come here ya fuckin’ bitch,” she hissed. It was quiet enough that Etheigh only just heard it, but the vulgarity made him flinch. The terran noticed, and gave a smile. It wasn’t like Rarity’s. It looked like she was proud to think and say what she did. “Ahem, pers’nal business between me an’ the mayor.” Again, she tipped her hat, and began to limp off.

He, meanwhile, gained further insight as to why politicians didn’t mess with the Apples.

Tall Order and the mayor looked entrenched in a fierce argument. He smirked, walking towards the rest of the party. If this small-village mayor thought she could win an argument with Tall Order, she was beyond mistaken.

Deciding to chance the grey pegasus, he started towards her, only to be intercepted by Lyra, accompanied by the cream-colored mare from before. “Hey, Holright,” she greeted. “Sorry about not talking at the platform, but...”

The three silently agreed to not finish that sentence, or discuss it further. “This is your marefriend, good Lady?” He slightly bowed.

“Bon Bon,” the terran shortly answered. “I-”

“Hey, Holright, I just found somepony I think thou wouldst truly wish to meet!” A hoof wrapped around his neck, and Gorthy gave the two mares the “unsafe glare”. “Why comest not thou hither?” A slight tug on Etheigh. The feeling that Lyra was safe, despite Gorthy’s apparent judgement, was overwhelmed by an internal sense of shame at his own carelessness.

“...Of course, Eldwrit.” He bowed to Lyra and her marefriend. “Good Ladies.”

Etheigh moved with the same swiftness as Gorthy. He had long stopped needing him to pull him away. Etheigh knew to get away as quick as he could.

“Etheigh,” Gorthy hissed. Even though Etheigh knew the speech before Gorthy could even utter the first word, having long internalized it, Gorthy still gave it. “That mare-”

“I’m giving you five and your disgraced friend one last chance!” The speech died, and Etheigh, Gorthy, and everypony else turned to find the mayor marching into the park. To Etheigh's shock and awe, Tall Order trailed behind her eyes downcast. “One last chance! I want to know what happened two weeks ago that Her Radiant Majesty is hiding, or I am going to force you to talk by getting subpoenas for you and you and you and you and you and especially her the second I can!” The mayor pointed at Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and then back into town.

Fluttershy huddled into her own mane, but the others looked about as pissed as the mayor. Especially Applejack.

“Now that’s just a bunch of horseshit!” The injured terran pointed her hoof right back at the mayor. “Ah an’ e’rypony else have told y’all that we ain’t talkin’ with yer fuckin’ attitude!”

“Mayor, ma’am,'” a nearby Royal Guard immediately interrupted. “Please keep your interaction civil-'”

“And I have told you to stop standing with liars and outsiders when Starlight, Sunflower, Purple Heart, Desert Storm, and others are dead!” Etheigh’s sense of awe deepened - she really had to rival Tall Order to just ignore the Guard like that. “You, Applejack, insist on lying to us!”

Applejack stomped on the ground, and the earth slightly shook. “Ah’m not defendin’ any murderer, an’ ah sure ain’t lied t’y’all neither!”

“Mayor, ma’am!'” The Royal Guard repeated themselves with an open threat in their tone. “Cease-”

“Is that why your ‘friend’ from Canterlot isn’t here, Applejack? Because she’s got nothing to hide? Have we all forgotten how she spoke-”

“Ah’d suppose she ain’t here ‘cuz y’all don’t make her feel welcome!”

“MAYOR-”

“She ISN’T welcome here!”

“ENOUGH!” Lyra’s voice boomed into the conversation, and she had the audacity to come between the two mares. The Royal Guard didn’t react. Etheigh began to understand why she was unsafe. She pointed a hoof at Pinkie Pie. “This is my welcome party, right?”

“Yep, Lyra.” The cheer in Pinkie Pie’s voice was, if not gone, extremely restrained. She pointed at Holright. “It’s also his.”

“Well, Holright, do you agree that neither of us have reason yet to make anypony unwelcome to our welcome party?” Etheigh was about to disagree vehemently, coming up with some excuse about how “he didn’t want to cause trouble”. The reality was, answering “yea” meant involving himself in a conflict which could make him unsafe, and was, on top of that, siding with an unsafe pony.

Then Gorthy jabbed his hoof into his side, and hissed, “Yea.”

What? He confusedly looked at Gorthy. He glared at Etheigh and hissed again, “Yea.”

Well, if Gorthy said so...

“...Yea. We haven’t reason.” He mouthed words at Gorthy. “Why art thou saying this?”

“You have no idea who you are standing for in that library, Lyra-” the mayor growled.

“No, I don’t.” Lyra began to trot towards the path. “And I’M going to find out!”

“Lyra!” her marefriend called.

“You’re not stopping me, Bonnie!” Lyra entered the treeline.

Okay, he definitely saw why Gorthy thought she was unsafe-

“It’s your welcome party, and you agreed that there’s no reason for the librarian to not come,” Gorthy hurriedly hissed. “Go with Lyra, now. I’ll stay here.”

“What?” he audibly yelped.

“She is safe. Go with her. Now.” Gorthy quietly spoke with that sternness he used when Etheigh refused to see how he was being a careless pony. Hadn’t Gorthy- “Now! And remember the librarian is safer than this party, or anypony in Ponyville, except me! Not that the safe ponies aren’t safe!”

The reflex of following Gorthy’s advice overrode his confusion as to why his coltfriend had gone from starting “the speech” to now saying Lyra was safe. With a practiced manner, he turned to the mayor and bowed, “Good Mayor.” With all eyes on him, including those of the Guard, he felt extremely unsafe, but he hurried off to catch up to Lyra.

What was it Gorthy was seeing that he was not? Why was Lyra unsafe, then safe? Why did he... Oh, he got it now. That was Gorthy, a much more careful pony than Etheigh could ever be. Gorthy knew the party wasn’t the safest place for Etheigh to be, and so he was taking the calculated risk of sending him off with Lyra so he could go to the very safe librarian, who wasn’t welcome, and stay with them safely as the party was happening.

...That was what Gorthy was thinking, right?

He caught up to the mint-green unicorn, who looked a bit surprised to see him. “Oh, hey Holright.”

“Good Lady.”

They caught sight of the Carousel Boutique, and the silence began to get awkward. He was in enough of a state of confusion that he didn’t know whether it was more safe to talk or not talk. That dilemma intensified when Lyra asked, “...What’s the deal with your friend?” He knew that tone. That was the “Gorthy is trouble for Etheigh” tone. Why did Gorthy think- “Never mind. I just thought he was... Weird.”

The two got into town. Against his better judgement, he followed Lyra as she began to navigate, her apparently having a better sense of Ponyville than he did, despite being there as long as he had. The silence started to get to him enough that he eked out something, anything, he could think of. Like the careless pony he was, the first thing that came out wasn’t quite the best question to ask. “Why are ye, a mare, wearing a seasonal mask?”

The mare stopped and looked at him, and he froze. He was far away enough now that, no matter how much he screamed, Gorthy could not come. He could only rely on Guards standing in the streets. He- “You know what?” she laughed. “That’s a pretty good question after all that!”

Half genuinely, half out of fear, he laughed as well. She waved a hoof at the red mask covering her muzzle. “There’s some research that pheromones can apparently affect mares. Not like stallions like you,” she giggled. “But it can affect us.”

“...Oh.”

She started off again, and he, hesitantly, went with her. Just a bit more, he supposed, to the library, judging by their entrance into the marketplace. Where the safe pony was. “With those sorts of questions being asked, I like you, Holright,” she said. “Too many ponies ask questions they aren’t seeking an answer for, and too few those they are.”

“...’Tis not the best question for a good Coltchesterite to ask,” he thought out loud.

“Eh, too many ponies don’t mean what they say, or don’t say what they mean.” She shook her head. “I’m willing to bet half of the ponies at that party are silently asking that question.”

The two passed a place called Sugarcube Corner.

“They said ponies died here...” Lyra sighed. “What do you think?”

Gorthy’s reaction had made him forget that he now had confirmation that ponies had died here two weeks ago. That the mayor had, in seeming insanity, accused Her Radiant Majesty of wrongdoing. “...I...” Should he talk, or shouldn’t he talk? “...I wit not.”

“...That’s fair. Bonnie’s not really been talking about it, so I don’t know anything.” Another depressed huff. “So I’m not jumping to conclusions. I can’t imagine whoever’s in the library is so bad.”

“...Me neither.” Gorthy had said they were safe, after all. With the tree now visible and drawing closer, every step forward was a step closer to safety, and away from the confusing mess that was Lyra.

Well, at least until he caught sight of the six Guards still standing in front of the library. His sense of nearing safety was shaken, but...

...

...He supposed that, like Lyra, Gorthy was taking a calculated risk.

“Why don’t you be the one to go in first? You seem like the most polite one here.” She grimly chuckled, “Surprised the Guard didn’t get me after I joined into that mess.”

First towards the Guard? Normally, merely for being a good Coltchesterite, he would say the mare should go first. Now, though, his feeling of uncertainty was becoming so intense the desire to just have somewhere to stop and think was interfering with his politeness and regard for his own safety. The best chance of him satiating that careless want was him doing the good Coltchesterite, and safe, thing to do and be polite. He didn’t, however, get ahead of Lyra.

Instead, he appraised the sun, which was now approaching the horizon. Its motions now inspired him with a sense of security that could help him do that, though he silently uttered a prayer that it would rise again in the morning. Lyra caught what he was doing, and looked at the sun too. “Heh... I can’t believe there was a time when the sun rising was a guarantee.” Saying what everypony thought there. He just...

Ah well, they were here at the library. Lyra slowed, gesturing him forward. He tried to slow as much as he could without being too noticeably slow. He didn’t know whether he supposed to turn his back to her or not. Whether it was safe to turn his side to Guards who, strangely, were not looking at him as they were earlier that day. Whether it was safe...

...

...Well, safety was right in front of him. Surely, if he turned his back to her, and his side to the Guard, he could call the librarian for help if anything went wrong. Gorthy had said the librarian was more safe than anypony but him, after all.

His heart thundering, he approached the door. Then, he almost stopped. He was going to have to hoof open the door. There was no way his horn was going to work right enough right now for him to open it. But that meant Lyra and the Guard would know that he could use his hooves like a terran. Or would it? It-

The door opened under a magenta magical aura. “I’m just going to say hello, Sergeant Sentry.” That voice made his heart stop. “I don’t want to cause trouble, but they’re my...”

Standing in the doorway was who Gorthy had insisted was the most unsafe pony for the year she was at the University of Coltchester. The pony Etheigh had been foolish enough to never think was unsafe in the time he knew her.

Twilight Sparkle.

Author's Note

Terrans are well-known to be the most hardy of the three tribes as a result of their arcana largely being passive augmentations of the body. Drop a boulder on a pegasus, and they'll be crushed, but drop a boulder on a terran, and they will be crippled for the rest of their life at worst. When Etheigh thinks Applejack had to be in "some bad farming accident", he means it. The average lifespan of a terran is 150 years, almost twice that of a pegasus (the shortest-lived of the tribes), typically only beginning to show signs of old age after the first century. Tall Order is a full 108 years old, and, like many terrans who don't marry another terran, has taken a second wife; Deer Lore is 56, over fifty years younger, but this is socially acceptable in light of the differences in life expectancy.