Love Will Set You Free / L'amore è femmina (Out of Love): Side Stories

Chapters

Love Is Blind
Love Unlimited
Would You?
Waterline
Love Me Back
I'm a Joker
Zaleilah
Aphrodisiac

Love Is Blind

"Where do you think you're going?"

Gilda froze. She had been absolutely certain she hadn't woken her fellow partygoer. My instincts aren't what they used to be.

The griffon turned and saw Scootaloo approaching, still swaying slightly. Gilda had been through this kind of morning often enough to recognize what the pegasus was going through. She smiled inwardly. Not used to the good stuff, hm?

"What happened? Why are you here? Why are you leaving at this uncelestial hour?" Scootaloo staggered closer to Gilda with each question, until they were beak to muzzle and Gilda could see the bloodshot eyes and smell the mare's breath. She quietly thanked the Lords of Virtue for making the griffon sense of smell as blunt as it was. She needed her senses about her right now.

"Well, in order: You drank way too much at the party last night, until RD and I had to carry you home; I'm here because RD worried about you and wanted someone around; and I was leaving because I could tell you were sober enough again. Can I please leave now?" Gilda turned her eye away at that last question.

"Anywhere in particular you have to be? At 9 on a Sunday morning?" Scootaloo shook her head slightly. "This doesn't make sense. Besides," her voice dropped a little, "there are a few things I wanted to try with you."

"Stop." Gilda winced at how panicked she sounded, a far cry from the resolve she'd been aiming for. "You went far enough last night, and who knows where we'd have ended up if you hadn't passed out."

"What do you mean, 'far enough'?" Scootaloo looked confused. "You wanted this just as much as I did. What changed all of a sudden?"

"I had time to think." Gilda found she still wasn't able to look Scootaloo in the eye. "You deserve better than me."

Scootaloo laughed in disbelief. "What in the hay is that supposed to mean? I thought you were over all that self-loathing. You said so yourself, back at the hospital."

"This isn't about me, kiddo. It's about you."

"Like Tartarus it is!" Scootaloo shouted. "I'm not a foal anymore, you know. I've seen my friends go on dates, while I was out training, always training. I know how these things go, and I want someone awesome to share my life. And I think you just might be that someone."

"Awesome? Me?" Gilda laughed bitterly. "Are you mistaking me for another griffon, by chance? I'm anything but awesome. I was stupid enough to go claw-to-hoof with an insane evil goddess, even provoke her, and I've got this," she pointed at her eyepatch, "to remind me of exactly what a bad idea that was. I'm an old hen no tercel would have looked at twice even before I was crippled, at least five years past my sell-by date. And you have the gall to call me awesome?" Gilda fixated Scootaloo with a withering stare. "Be quiet, grass-eater. I won't weigh you down."

Scootaloo held Gilda's gaze. "And you still say this isn't about you? Don't make this out as some kind of noble sacrifice, beakface. You're still beating yourself up because you're not what a griffon is supposed to be." She pointed to the necklace around Gilda's throat. "That element chose you for a reason. You can make your own way, but you first have to come to terms with who you are."

Slowly, the pegasus stretched out a hoof and touched the knot of scars on the griffon's head. "To take a page out of Sweetie Belle's book, I believe in you. You pulled me out of my dream. Perhaps I can finally repay you for that."

Gilda lifted a claw and gently pushed Scootaloo's hoof back. "I'm not ready for that. Not yet. I'm not a good griffon to be around right now, much less be with."

"You know where you can find me once you change your mind." Scootaloo hesitated for a moment, then she threw herself forward and hugged the griffon. "No matter whether you need a friend or something more."

"Thank you, Scootaloo." Gilda softly released the hug and stepped back, an impish grin curling up the sides of her beak. "Perhaps I'll take you up on those things you wanted to try. Someday."

***

Two years later

Scootaloo had just lain down for her afternoon nap when the bell rang. I told everypony a dozen times I don't want to be disturbed at this time of day. Will they ever learn?

As she made her way to the door, the bell rang a second time, more insistently. "Sheesh! Alright, I'm on my way!" Scootaloo threw the door open, ready to give whoever was waiting outside a piece of her mind, but the words died on her lips when she recognized her visitor.

"Hey, kiddo." Gilda smiled. "Long time no see."

"What...?" Scootaloo pressed one hoof against the doorframe to keep from keeling over. "That's it? For two years you vanish off the face of Equestria, and all you have to say is 'long time no see'?"

The griffon lowered her gaze, and Scootaloo noticed that she wasn't wearing an eyepatch. "I'm sorry, Scootaloo. I had my reasons, but could we talk this over somewhere else?"

"Sure. Come in." Scootaloo turned and led Gilda into her kitchen, where she pulled a bottle of cider and two glasses from a cupboard. "Sorry, I don't have anything else here right now. I just came back..."

"...from the Trottingham games. I know. I was there. You were fantastic."

Scootaloo took a sip of her cider, desperately wishing for something stronger. "Why are you here, Gilda? Now, after all this time?"

The griffon still wouldn't meet her gaze. "Shortly after the party, I learned that my mother had died. We'd never been really close, but as the eldest surviving hen, I still had to go back home and take care of everything." Slowly, Gilda turned her good eye towards the mare. "And when I came back, I heard about you and Storm Eye."

Scootaloo understood. "You kept your distance because you didn't want to see me with another mare." She felt bile rise up in her throat. "And now that she dumped me, you come in as the white knight and save me from my lonely fate?"

A low hiss escaped the griffon's throat. "It's not like that, Scootaloo. Besides, you split up over four months ago."

"How do you...?" Scootaloo stared at Gilda. "You kept an eye on me. Why would you do that?"

"What, I'm not allowed to keep up with what my friends do? It's not like I broke into your house and went through your stuff to get this info, kiddo. I've been in touch with RD and Derpy all this time."

"Derpy?" That little tidbit managed to push back Scootaloo's anger for the moment. "You and Derpy?"

"We've become friends - nothing else, before you get any ideas. After all, if the Elements of Diversity are needed again, we need a way to put the band back together." Gilda smiled. "She's a really nice one, once you get to know her a bit. Anyway, I thought of barging in when I heard about what Storm Eye had done to you." The smile vanished abruptly, and Scootaloo heard Gilda's claws unsheathe.

"I wanted to pull her wings out feather by feather until she had learned her lesson. You do not hurt my friends like that." Gilda threw a quizzical look in Scootaloo's direction. "Why did she do it, anyway?"

"I...if I'm honest, I provoked her. I thought I could get her to change her mind, and I did some really stupid things to show her I still loved her." Scootaloo hung her head. "She probably had to do what she did to finally get it into my thick skull that it was over."

"She dumped you in full view of the entire town, Scootaloo. No matter how dumb you were about it, no one deserves that." Gilda drained her glass, still trembling slightly.

"Water under the bridge, Gilda. The question is, what are you doing here?" Scootaloo forced the thought of Storm Eye back, focusing instead on the griffon before her. One thing at a time.

"RD is worried about you, Scoots. She told me..." Gilda broke off as Scootaloo descended into a fit of giggles. "What's so funny?"

"You..." Scootaloo fought for breath. "You called me Scoots. You've never done that before, and it just sounded weird. I liked it."

Gilda blushed, turning her gaze away again.

If there was one word Scootaloo would never have associated with the griffon, it would have been 'cute', yet there was no other way to describe her right now. For a second, the bitter, hurt hen vanished, leaving just a bashful little chicklet.

"Gilda? Why are you really here?" Scootaloo stepped around the table and looked the griffon in the eye. "Did you come as a friend, or is there more to this?"

Gilda sat upright and held Scootaloo's gaze. "I'm here to be whatever you need right now, Scootaloo. RD told me you've been hiding in here, only coming out for your competitions, and that's not the Scootaloo I know."

"That's not what I was asking." Scootaloo pushed closer to Gilda until their faces almost touched. "If this was just about Dash worrying, she would have come herself. Why are you here?"

"I'm here because I made a mistake two years ago," Gilda answered, so quietly that Scootaloo had to strain to hear her, even this close to her. "I had a chance with you, and I blew it. If all you want to be is friends, that's fine, I can live with that. But..."

"But you want more." Scootaloo's voice had dropped as well. "How much more, exactly?"

"I'm not sure." Gilda pulled her head back a few inches. "I've never done this before."

"You..." Scootaloo took a few seconds to realize what the griffon meant. "You've never been in love?"

"Not since RD. I'm not even sure if this really is love. Perhaps..." Gilda was abruptly cut short as Scootaloo darted forward and pressed her lips to Gilda's beak. The kiss was exactly as awkward as one would expect a meeting of muzzle and beak to be, and Scootaloo was fairly certain she'd cut herself on the beak's edge.

After Celestia knew how long, Scootaloo finally withdrew, tasting blood. "Did that help?"

"I don't know," Gilda panted. "Are you sure you want this?"

"I wouldn't do it otherwise." Scootaloo went over to the sink and spat out a little of the blood. "How do you griffons kiss, anyway?"

"Hey, it's not my fault your mouths are so soft and sensitive, you know?" Gilda grinned, but it faded quickly. "Where do we go from here, Scoots?"

Scootaloo turned back to Gilda. "I have no idea. Where do you want to go?"

Gilda rose and hugged Scootaloo, running her claws through the pegasus' mane. "It doesn't matter, as long as you're there."

Love Unlimited

Sweet Apple Acres, 4.30 a.m., 9th March, two and a half years after the Doubt incident

"Hey, AB. Going anywhere?"

Apple Bloom turned around in alarm. After her and Spike's reconciliation the day before, she'd spent the night at the library, none too eager to see either of her siblings. She'd snuck out in the very early morning, hoping to arrive back home before anypony else was awake. Those four words had dashed that hope.

She slowly turned towards the kitchen, where she could dimly make out the shape of her brother by the table, half shrouded in darkness. Anger boiled up inside her - granted, Applejack had been the main force behind her break-up, but Mac certainly had supported AJ in this. "What do you want?" she spat.

"To apologize." The words were just whispers, but they seemed to resonate in the otherwise deathly quiet house.

"Apologize?" Apple Bloom kept her voice down as well, fighting an urge to scream at her brother. "You and AJ nearly destroyed what Spike and I had, Mac. How do you think you can apologize for something like that?"

"I don't know." He rose and stepped out into the hall, and in spite of herself, Apple Bloom gasped. Big Macintosh's eyes were bloodshot, and he was trembling slightly. By the bags under his eyes, he hadn't slept very well this night - or the night before. "I could say a lot of things, but they wouldn't really make a difference. I screwed up, and it's your call if you forgive me."

"What were you thinking?" Apple Bloom stared into his eyes until he turned away. "Why did you do it? How could you do something like this to me?"

"I wasn't thinking," Mac admitted. "That was the problem, I guess. I thought AJ knew best. I had no idea that she was getting to you because she was afraid of Spike."

"What was that?" Apple Bloom could hardly believe her ears. "AJ is afraid of Spike?"

"She's scared of what he might become. Remember his birthday three years ago?" Mac finally managed to meet Apple Bloom's eyes again.

"Sure, but we know what happened back then, and it's not gonna happen again." Apple Bloom was still trying to wrap her head around all of this. "There's gotta be something else. That alone wouldn't have gotten her to do what she did."

"I think so too, but I honestly have no idea what else there is," Mac said. "You're gonna have to talk to her to get to the bottom of it."

"Oh, I will." Apple Bloom's eyes were blazing. "I never would have thought you two could do something like this to me. You were just being an idiot, but Applejack knew full well what she was doing, and I'm not gonna let her off the hook easily."

"First, though, you should get some sleep." At Apple Bloom's quizzical stare, Big Macintosh actually smiled. "Apple Bloom, I swear by all that I hold dear, I'll never meddle in your love life again. But I am still your big brother, and right now, I can tell that you need rest." He yawned. "Come to think of it, so do I." He turned away.

Big Macintosh was already halfway up the stairs when his sister's voice drifted to his ears again. "I believe you."

He turned his head and saw that Apple Bloom was still standing at the foot of the stairs, eyes wide and a thin smile on her face. "You really meant well, didn't you?"

"I thought so at the time." He found he couldn't bear her gaze, lowering his head.

The next thing he knew, Apple Bloom was holding him in a tight hug. "I couldn't forgive you if this had worked as AJ planned, but it didn't. You're still my brother."

"And you're my sister." He released the hug. "Thank you, AB."

"Don't count your chickens before they're hatched, Mac." Apple Bloom looked at a certain door. "The worst of this is still to come."

***

Six hours later

Apple Bloom woke.

The dreams that had haunted her sleep for the past six weeks were no longer troubling her, but now others had taken their place - one in particular, where she was ... somewhere, certain that she would never see Sweet Apple Acres ever again.

A glance at the clock confirmed that it was already mid-morning. Sunday or not, the family should long since have shaken her out of bed, ready for the day's work. She looked out the window and saw Applejack at work in the western fields, while Big Macintosh was just a speck of red on the northern horizon. They're working. Why am I here?

She made for the door, but was interrupted by a knock. "Bloomy? You awake?"

"Gran?" Apple Bloom opened the door and saw Granny Smith standing there. "I'm sorry I slept in. Why didn't you wake me?"

The old mare smiled. "These old ears don't hear everything anymore, but I saw you and Mac this morning, and I thought you could do with a little more sleep today."

"Thanks." The smell of roasting apples reached Apple Bloom's nostrils. "You're cooking? On a Sunday?"

"I'm not letting Applejack or Big Macintosh near their mother's kitchen until this whole mess is sorted out." Granny Smith fixed Apple Bloom with a stare that would have done Fluttershy proud. "And you will get this sorted out, one way or the other. It's poisoned the ground and the air round here for long enough. AJ will be coming in for lunch at midday, and she knows I want her to talk to you then."

Apple Bloom was speechless for a second, then anger boiled up inside her. "And I don't get a say in this?"

Granny Smith's gaze softened slightly, yet she didn't give way. "What kind of a grandmother would I be if I let this hang over the family for longer than it needs to?"

Apple Bloom sighed. "You're right, it's just..."

The older mare waited for a few seconds, finally realizing that a little prodding was needed. "What is it, Bloomy?"

"I don't know if I can forgive Applejack for what she did, Gran. How can I ever trust her again?"

"She'll have to work hard for that, true enough," Granny Smith replied, gazing past Apple Bloom and out the window. "In the end, it's your decision. You're not a little filly anymore, Bloomy." She hesitated, and her next words came haltingly, as though she were stumbling over them. "You're growing into a fine young mare, and your ma and pa would be mighty proud of you." She turned and shuffled down the stairs, gone before Apple Bloom could think of an answer to that.

***

One and a half hours later

"Apple Bloom? Can I come in?"

Granny Smith had told her to wait in the old living room, the one they rarely used anymore - the kitchen was big enough for the four of them plus guests. At the sound of her sister's voice, Apple Bloom raised her head and swallowed, steadying herself. Here goes nothing. "Yeah."

The door screeched open - that one needs some oil -, and there she was, stetson drawn low over her face, head bowed in obvious shame. "Hello, AB."

"Don't call me that." Apple Bloom launched the words at her sister like throwing knives, each one sharper and more cutting than the last. "That's what my friends and family call me."

Applejack shrunk back, wincing visibly. "I did you wrong, Apple Bloom."

"Oh yes, you sure did." Apple Bloom found that she couldn't face the older mare, keeping her gaze fixated on the old, dusty photograph over the mantelpiece. "I know I'm young, and I know how love goes at my age - all the fillies in my class are still searching for that special somepony." She gritted her teeth. "You thought it was only puppy love, a little filly crush that goes away, didn't you?"

Applejack just nodded, which made Apple Bloom angrier for some reason. "Two and a half years, Applejack! I've been with Spike for two and a half years now, and you never guessed that that might mean it was more than that? I love him!" Those last three words came out as an anguished scream, a release for all the fear and despair Apple Bloom had gone through in the past month.

"I know that now." The strange shift in Applejack's tone made Apple Bloom finally look at her again. All traces of her usual accent were gone, replaced by an artificial Manehattan sound. "Twilight and Rarity were here yesterday, and they..." She pointed to her face, and Apple Bloom saw a bruise on her sister's lower jaw, a sight that filled her with vindictive glee for a second. "They made me realize something."

"Oh?" Apple Bloom decided it was time to take a page out of Spike's book, adding a layer of bitter sarcasm to her voice "And what was that? That meddling in your sister's love life was a bad idea? As Pinkie Pie might put it, duh! You should have known that from the start."

"How?"

Apple Bloom took a second to work through the meaning of the simple one-word question. "What...you really didn't know it wasn't a good thing?" She suddenly realized why her sister was putting on the old Manehattan accent - Applejack was trying to keep it together with all her might.

"How should I have known?" The country accent began to slip through again. "I've never had anything like that, Apple Bloom. I really thought you'd be over it soon."

The last piece of the puzzle slid into place. "You were jealous."

"Yes," Applejack whispered. "Celestia forgive me, because I know you can't, but I couldn't take it anymore. I tried to break what you had because I couldn't have anything like it."

"Oh, this is rich!" Apple Bloom approached her sister until they were face to face. "You're a hero of Equestria, Applejack. You've saved the world, twice if not more often. How in the world could you be jealous of me?"

"It doesn't make sense, does it?" Applejack smiled weakly. "But it's true. I lied, even to myself, about why I really did it, but Rarity knocked a bit of sense into me and made me see the truth, and doesn't that sound weird?"

"You bet it does." The tension seemed to lessen a bit. "You mean Rarity did that to you?" Apple Bloom pointed to the bruise.

"That mare has one mean right hook, let me tell you." Applejack rubbed her jaw. "Don't ever get on her wrong side."

"Wasn't planning to." Apple Bloom laughed briefly before snapping back to reality. "You know what the worst thing about this is, Applejack? I can't trust you anymore." She bit her lower lip, tears rising to her eyes. "I always knew I could rely on you. You were my big sister, the best in the world, and you went and tore that down." She stared into Applejack's eyes. "How can I be sure you won't try anything like that again?"

"Never." Applejack managed to hold her sister's gaze. "I'm not perfect, but I do learn from my mistakes."

Apple Bloom could tell that there was no ulterior motive behind it this time. Applejack was baring her soul, and the feeling of barren despair emanating from her was enough to cut through the anger Apple Bloom still felt. "You better hope you do. I'll never let anything get between me and Spike, ever again, family or not. I promised him, and the Apples keep their promises."

She forced a smile. "You're still my sister, AJ. This isn't done with, but it will turn out alright." She stretched out a hoof and pulled Applejack into a hug. "If you manage to avoid getting killed by Spike, that is."

They broke the hug, turned, and left the room.

Would You?

Five thousand years ago, Vindoponia

The scattered remains of the earth pony army had taken shelter in the ruins of the once-proud city. Shortly after the great battle, a fierce storm had moved in from the south - the pegasi had been too busy fighting off the Darkness to really take care of the weather, and vast swathes of the land now were reverting back to their natural climate. Icy rain beat down on the blackened rubble, driven almost horizontally before the wind.

Cor Angeli, bearer of the Element of Trust, and Vox Communitatis, keeper of the Element of Confidence, had their hooves full. Keeping morale up in the face of this pyrrhic victory over Fear, Doubt and Regret would have been a monumental task even for the full complement of six Elements of Community. Now that the other four lay dead, the load on the survivors was all the heavier. Cor Angeli had just lain down to get at least a little rest when the voice of his fellow Element cut through the howls of the storm.

"Do you think we'll ever see them again?" Vox Communitatis' voice was rough, close to giving out by the sound of it.

Cor just shrugged. Whatever that last splinter of the Ancient Darkness had done to him in its final moments, it had burned out his vocal cords. He grabbed a quill and a scrap of parchment and jotted down a few words. Who can tell?

"This isn't over yet." Vox looked out of the window - one of the few untouched by battle and storm - before turning back to Cor. "The griffons have withdrawn, leaving only a single emissary. They won't fight again. We haven't heard from the unicorns in weeks, and last we heard, the pegasi were preparing for a final stand at Vallis Nubium. And nopony knows what the dragons are..." He broke off, his eyes widening. "Cor, look!"

Cor turned his head, and his eyes fell on the shelf where they had placed the burnt-out remains of the copper necklaces worn by the other Elements of Community, as well as the dust and stone splinters left of the griffon Elements of Virtue.

They were glowing - so softly that it would have been imperceptible even under a full moon, but in this darkened room, there could be no doubt. Tiny motes of orange light were rising from the four copper necklaces, while equally small pinpoints of greenish light danced around the remnants of the marble ones.

What is happening? Cor quickly jotted down.

"I have no idea." Vox sounded as awestruck as Cor felt. "Do you remember the old legend of the Elements, where it says nothing dies?"

As long as there's somepony who remembers it. Cor stared at Vox. Look. They're rebuilding. Indeed, the motes of light seemed to try out new shapes, extremely slowly. What are we going to do?

"We will have to wait for the others. This affects us and the griffons at the very least, and I think several of the Elements of Discipline and Power have fallen as well, so this might be happening in pegasus and dragon lands as we speak." For the first time since the battle, Cor saw Vox smile. The Element of Confidence opened the door, startling the guard placed outside. "Guard, spread the news. The other Elements may have fallen, but they're still with us."

***

Hall of the Stewards, Vindoponia, six months later

"I must ask your forgiveness, esteemed stewards." Tachos Iris, ambassador of the Pegasus Courts, bowed. "Pegai Pyros took some time to recuperate from his injuries."

"We understand," Vox Communitatis replied from the right of the two bronze thrones. "But may we take from this that he's finally recovered?"

"He has, and in fact he arrived a few minutes ago." Iris smiled. "He is waiting in the Chamber of Memories."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Vox tried to get up, only to fall back into his throne. He cursed his weakness silently - ever since the battle, his hind legs had started to refuse service more and more, to the point of complete uselessness. A gesture to his co-steward, and Vox and Cor Angeli were walking towards the back end of the great hall, nothing apparently wrong with either.

***

A surprise was waiting for the earth pony stewards in the Chamber of Memories.

"Greetings, noble stewards." The black dragon bowed. He was young for his species, but still taller than all the ponies in the room. "My name is Aculeus," he continued, drawing down his robe at the neck so that an obsidian necklace set with a green, quill-shaped gemstone became visible. "I am the bearer of the Element of Resolve."

Next to Aculeus, a pegasus slowly dragged himself into the light. Vox and Cor exchanged glances - from the white mane, the dark blue coat and the iridescent wings - or what was left of them - , this could only be Pegai Pyros, bearer of the Element of Courage, and he looked like absolute Tartarus. Vox marveled that he was even alive in this state. "I don't have all that much time left, honoured fellow bearers," Pyros began. "You asked in your last letter whether our destroyed Elements had started to show signs of regeneration." He pulled a wooden case from under his robes and threw back the lid. "See for yourselves."

Vox peered into the case, at first only seeing five twisted heaps of silver wire. But the longer he looked, the more he thought he could see tiny motes of light dancing about the ruined Elements of Discipline, similar to what was happening to the Elements of Virtue and Community stored in the glass case in the centre of the room.

"Here are the broken Elements of Power," Aculeus chimed in, retrieving a box seemingly carved from a single diamond and opening it. The heaps of broken obsidian showed the same reaction. "The question is, what do we do about this?"

"The griffons and the unicorns have already withdrawn from our Alliance, or are threatening to do so. My own people will certainly follow suit if the unicorns leave." Pyros' face hardened. "I'm not leaving these in the hooves of my government. I don't trust them any further than I could carry them."

Tachos coughed. "Are you sure this is the right place for these sentiments, bearer?"

"You think exactly the same as I do, or they wouldn't have sent you to a peacemaker court." Pyros gave an apologetic look to the earth ponies. "Their word, not mine - certainly not with the contempt they place behind it."

"Well, we might..." Vox broke off as he realized something. "Did they do that before?" He pointed at the Elements of Power and Discipline. Between the two cases, a narrow stream of light had formed.

"No. But then, they haven't been in close proximity to other Elements until now." Aculeus turned to the glass case. "They're doing the same."

Vox followed his gaze. "Are you certain? I can't see anything."

"It's too weak for pony eyes to perceive yet." Aculeus grinned, a decidedly unsettling show of teeth. "Dragon eyes, on the other hand, are made to see more than most. They're linking."

"Is there more to this than just the connection?" Tachos asked. "What exactly is happening?"

"One moment." Aculeus closed his eyes and focused. When he opened them again, they were pools of deep blue light. He stared at the cases for a few seconds. "Oh, now I understand."

"What is it, Aculeus?" Vox asked impatiently. "What is going on?"

"They are trying to rebuild, but much has been lost," the dragon replied, as if from very far away. "The servants of the Darkness were created to combat order, and that's what they destroyed in these. But there was more to them than just pure law - they had a chaotic side to them as well, and that side mostly escaped the Darkness' onslaught, and is trying to reconstruct the Elements." Aculeus closed his eyes. "Yet there is too little left to rebuild them all. And since they're forces of chaos now, it will take time before anything comes of this."

"How long?" Pyros asked. "And what will be the final result?"

"A long time, even as dragons measure these things." Aculeus bowed his head. "I'm sorry, but none of you will live to see the end results of this process. I'm not sure if I will. As for results, they're forging something new - they couldn't do anything else, they're forces of chaos. I don't think more than four new Elements will come of this, though. There is very little magical power left in most of the old Elements."

"Then what do we do?" Vox asked.

The scratching of quill on parchment made them look at the fifth person present. Cor Angeli held up a piece of parchment. We will place all of them in shared custody, because neither pegasus nor dragon trust their own people in this, and I have no idea whether we can trust the earth ponies once Vox and I are gone. We shall propose to make it a grand exhibit in the Grand Meeting Hall of the Alliance, and we shall watch over them as best we can. Perhaps the existing Elements can accelerate this process somehow.

***

Grand Meeting Hall of the Alliance of Five, ten years later

"Vox Communitatis is dead."

Cor Angeli stared up at the young black dragon in front of him for a second, then he pulled out his parchment. Then we're the last ones, except for the unicorns.

"Yes." Aculeus, bearer of the Element of Resolve, turned his eyes skyward. "When you die and I go into my next Big Sleep, the Alliance will break apart. We've barely managed to keep it standing even with Vox' help."

We can't allow that to happen, Aculeus. Cor's hoof was trembling as he wrote. What will become of the prisons?

"Their guardian is in place and knows his duty," Aculeus answered. "The more pressing question is, what will happen to the destroyed Elements?" He pointed to the great glass showcase in the middle of the room. Motes of light were dancing around shattered and twisted remnants of the old Elements, slowly weaving together the essences of obsidian, marble, copper and silver. "They will need time to finish their work, wherever it may be leading, and no one knows how long that will take. Even I might not live to see it."

Then we will do what Vox and the others did. Cor's face set in grim determination. We will not pass our Elements to new bearers. They shall watch over their fallen kin, where we cannot.

"How do you imagine that to work, Cor?" Aculeus made a sweeping gesture with his right forelimb. "This place will be open to scavengers as soon as the Alliance breaks apart. The Elements will need to remain undisturbed. Who is to take care of that?"

Cor managed a smile. You will. Even in a Big Sleep, no one is so foolish as to attempt intrusion in a dragon's lair, and you will pick this very hall as yours. Even the Grand Arbiters of your kind will not deny the last surviving Element of Power his right to choose this symbolic place to rest for the next few centuries.

The dragon grinned. "I see how you managed to keep your earth ponies in line, Cor. Your cunning would have done a dragon proud." His face turned serious again. "But what if this takes longer than my lifespan? I'm young by dragon standards, true, but I shall not live forever."

We shall let this place be forgotten, Aculeus. Cor's hoof was trembling again, tears coming to his eyes. No one must remember that this Alliance even existed, for if they did, they would want to visit the places of power, and none more so than this one. The greatest weight of all shall bury this memory - time.

"So we must..." Aculeus broke off as the full weight of Cor's words hit him. "We will destroy that which we helped build against the Darkness. You will make the earth ponies withdraw to their lands, and I shall do the same with the dragons. All that we did will come to nothing."

No, old friend. Cor forced himself to look the dragon in the eyes. We already managed to contain six of the greatest evils this world has ever seen, but we can't forget our responsibility to the future over our concerns for the present. He pointed at the case. They need our help. They can't take care of themselves yet, and it might be millennia before they are able to. They're depending on us, and on the essence of the ones who survived the great battles.

"Sometimes I envy the unicorns." Aculeus stared out of one of the great windows. "Their Elements have been preserved, and yet they were second to withdraw from the Alliance."

They don't know what they could have lost. But their Elements, powerful as they are, are but a part of the whole. Everything shall be needed in time. Cor Angeli took off the copper necklace with the orange hammer-shaped gemstone and placed it atop the glass case, and Aculeus followed suit with his obsidian necklace.

"They will not remember who we were." Aculeus' claws dug into the stone floor. "Is this what Stargazer meant when he spoke about the 'Alliance that Never Was'?"

Perhaps. But if his visions of the Dawn of the Seventh ever come true, all of the Elements will be needed.

"Then let us leave. We have a lot of work ahead of us." They turned and left the Hall, leaving the Elements to continue their rebuilding work.

***

The same hall, about five thousand years later

Time had taken its toll on the once-proud hall. The forest on the hillside had clawed and broken its way through the marble walls and even the floor, leaving hardly any trace that there ever had been a building here.

The huge heaps of gold and gemstones at the far end of the room were still intact, if covered in a thick layer of dust and grime. Their owner had gone to his last Big Sleep almost a thousand years ago, and he had been doubtful whether he would ever wake from it.

A single clear note ringing out from the middle of the room dispelled those doubts. The air seemed to waver for a second, and then the ancient glass case was there again, the illusion masking it from prying eyes gone in an instant after holding up for five millennia.

Aculeus slowly managed to pry his eyes open, the debris of a thousand years of sleep falling from the lids. The glass case was glowing brightly, almost painfully so to eyes accustomed to darkness for so long.

The glow intensified by the second, until even a dragon's nictitating membranes couldn't block it all and Aculeus had to turn away, finally giving out one last brief flare that even managed to penetrate a dragon's outer eyelid, and then darkness fell again.

The ancient black dragon stared at the case, fearful of what he might see.

It was empty. No trace remained of the Elements, intact or not. The glass lay on the floor in shards.

The ancient mouth curled up into a smile. "Their time has arrived, then. I only wish I could see who they are."

As if in answer to that, light flickered up around the case again, coalescing into the image of a dragon whelp barely into his teens, with purple scales and light green spines running down his back.

The smile faded. "That baby? This is the new bearer of my Element?"

Just then, the young dragon turned, and Aculeus could see his eyes for the first time. The deep green was only too familiar to the old Element bearer.

"The eyes of a Bladerock." The smile returned. "Well, grandson many times removed, I wish you all the luck in the world. You will need it."

Waterline

Sweet Apple Acres

"Are they gone?"

The dragon turned at the unexpected question. The old earth mare lying on the large double bed, almost vanishing beneath the covers, smiled weakly. "You thought I was asleep, didn't you?"

"You know me too well." He returned the smile. "But what do I expect after all these years?"

"How long has it been, Spike?" Apple Bloom's brow creased as she tried to remember.

"Since our first kiss? Eighty-nine years, six months and twelve days."

She raised one eyebrow. "That's oddly precise."

"I grew up with Twilight. 'Precise' is what I do."

Apple Bloom forced her eyes completely open. She'd told Spike more than once that the fatigue was the worst thing about it all - that feeling of exhaustion that no amount of sleep could cure.

He forced himself to look at her and felt a familiar pain in his heart. She was ancient, over a hundred now, yet he could still see the young mare - the filly - he'd fallen in love with. It was a lifetime ago for a pony, yet for him, it was barely a blink of an eye. He had grown over the decades, yet he was still small by dragon standards - which meant that he was about the size of the princesses now, towering over most other ponies.

"It's not looking good, is it?"

"No," he whispered. "They've tried everything, but..."

"They can't cure old age."

"You're not old." He tried to smile again. "You're barely into young adulthood."

"As dragons reckon these things, perhaps," she countered. "Spike, I won't be around for much longer, and I..."

"Don't." The low growl escaped him almost against his will.

"What's the use in lying to yourself?" she asked heatedly, and for a brief moment, the energetic young mare flared up beneath the wrinkles. "I'll be gone soon, Spike. It's good that way. I've had a great life, a wonderful family, and the best husband a mare could wish for."

A slight hiss told Spike that a few tears were making their way down his face, turning into steam upon hitting his teeth. He'd known this day would come. He'd known it even back at the wedding, and before that. Dragon lifespan was measured in centuries, if not millennia. She wouldn't always be around.

He coughed. "Did I ever tell you about the talk I had with Princess Luna, back at our wedding?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

"She told me that time was equal in power to love, and she asked me what I would do once you were..." He cleared his throat. "Once you were gone."

"What did you say?" A glimmer of interest shone in Apple Bloom's eyes.

"Over eighty years ago, and I remember it all. I said I couldn't live with losing you unless I knew I'd made you happy." Spike looked her in the eyes, and he knew how utterly un-dragonlike he had to appear at this moment. He was pleading with her.

"You have." Apple Bloom looked at him with a very familiar frown on her face, as though he were being especially dense. "You really need me to tell you? Look at what we made together, Spike. The little farm filly and the dragon among ponies, and we made it work." She stretched out a hoof, and he carefully closed one of his claws around it. "We saved the world, more than once. Look at the family we built, you and I. Look at what we did for this city, and for Equestria." Her eyes were glistening with tears. "You're my very special somedragon, my Spikey-Wikey, and I love you. Yes, Spike the Dragon. You have made me happy."

"I don't want you to go." He almost choked on those words, knowing even as he said them that he didn't really mean them.

"I have to, Spike. They're waiting for me. I can almost hear them." Her eyes seemed to glaze over slightly. "Big Macintosh, and Applejack, Granny Smith, my parents, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo..." She frowned and looked directly at Spike again. "There's one last thing I need you to do, Spike."

"Anything." He evaded her gaze.

"Live."

That was enough to make him stare at her in wonder. "Live?"

"Yes, Spike. Live. Live a good, draconic life, whatever it is you dragons do when you're over a hundred. I couldn't go if I thought you'd just cry over me for centuries." Beneath her joking tone, Spike perceived an undercurrent of deadly earnestness.

"I won't." He leaned in a little closer. "Don't ask me not to cry over you, because I will. You were mine for almost a century, and if there's one thing we dragons are really bad at, it's letting go. I'll cry rivers, lakes, entire oceans over you. But I said it to Princess Luna back then, and I'll say it again: I can live with it. Not just because I made you happy, but because you made me happy too." He almost choked on the words, but he had to get them out. "I'll need the memories. The good ones, the bad ones, even the really sad ones, but most of all, the happy ones. I'll keep them with me, and as long as I live, Apple Bloom of Sweet Apple Acres, Bearer of the Element of Confidence, a piece of you will live on in my memory."

***

Gavel Peak, Dragonspine Mountains, thirty years later

"Who is she?"

Spike turned at the growled question. "Who's who?"

The light blue dragoness released a puff of smoke from her nostrils. "Don't play coy with me. I've seen the photograph you keep in your hoard. A rare place of honour for something of no intrinsic value."

"It's of great value to me, Lightwing."

"A pony?" She stared at him in wonder. "I've heard of that happening, but it's rare. So, who is she?"

"She was my wife." He reached for the frame and held it up into the light, revealing an old, faded picture of himself and Apple Bloom on their wedding day. She had been so proud to wear her mother's dress for the occasion.

"Your wife?" Lightwing's astonishment seemed close to boiling over into anger. "Don't you think you should have told me you were married before we took the Vows of Power?"

"Lightwing, I said she was my wife." He closed his eyes as old feelings he'd thought long vanished resurfaced.

Her face softened. "Of course. You were barely more than a hatchling when you married her. How long ago was it?"

"Over a hundred and ten years." It seemed surreal - he knew that it was a long time, and yet the memory was as clear as day to him, as if it had happened only yesterday.

"I'm sorry." Lightwing approached him and wrapped a wing around him.

"You don't have to be." Spike smiled through his tears. "I loved her with all my heart, but she didn't want me to pine after her forever, and so I don't."

"Is that what I am?" Again, it wasn't quite anger - yet. "Your proof to yourself that you can still get it on?"

"No!" Spike gritted his teeth. "No, Lightwing, please believe me, you're far more than that. You're special to me."

"And you're special to me. The dragon who grew up among ponies." She chuckled. "I should have guessed, really. Who could resist their wicked charms?"

"Lightwing, I understand if you don't want to deal with all this." He couldn't bring himself to look at her. "I bet most of the young males out there don't have this kind of baggage. Perhaps you should take one of them for yourself."

She whipped her tail across his back, just enough to be a little painful. "I don't want any of those striplings. Have you looked at some of them?" She smiled. "I could tell you were different. I just didn't know how different."

He grinned impishly. "Perhaps I should introduce you to your step-grandchildren."

This time, no anger tainted the pure astonishment on Lightwing's face. "My what now?"

"I was married to a pony for over eighty years. Did you honestly think we didn't...procreate?"

She raised a claw to her temple and slowly started massaging it. "Thank you, Spike. There's a mental image I didn't need to have."

"You're welcome." The grin faded. "Seriously, though, if we continue this, you'll need to get to know them someday. They're a part of my life."

"I..." Lightwing seemed lost in thought for a few seconds. "Actually, I kind of like that thought. How many of them are there?"

"Nineteen." At the surprised look, he added, "Six children, five of them with families. I'm honestly not sure how many great-grandkids I have."

"Fantastic." She slumped to the ground with an exaggerated groan, reminding Spike uncannily of a certain unicorn he once knew. "I'm not just getting with a dragon, I'm getting with a clan."

"You'll enjoy it."

"Of course I will." She grinned. "Can you imagine the looks on their faces when Grandpa Spike shows up with his new wife?"

His heart seemed to stop for a second or two. "Oh Celestia, I haven't even thought of that. What are they gonna think?"

"Your wife knew that when she married you, didn't she? You just told me she didn't want you to pine after her." Lightwing looked at the photo again. "I'm sorry I didn't get to know her. She looks nice."

"She was." Spike took the photo and returned it to its place of honour. "But I shouldn't ruin our first date by talking about my first wife."

"Are you kidding? I want to know all about this. I want to know who this pony was that managed to win a dragon's heart." She looked up to the photo again. "What was her name?"

He hadn't had cause to say it in decades. He was surprised to find it didn't hurt much.

"Apple Bloom."

Love Me Back

Blackspade Funeral Home, November 9th, 9 a.m., five years after the Conformity incident

"I'm very sorry for your loss."

Applejack took a deep breath and managed to actually look at the pony opposite her for the first time since entering the room. "Thank you, Mr...?"

The olive earth pony stallion seemed to avoid her gaze for some reason. "Shovel Blade. And you're Applejack, of course."

"You know me?" After all that had happened over the years, this shouldn't have surprised her anymore, but it still felt strange whenever somepony recognized her.

"The Element of Honesty, saviour of Equestria on several occasions?" A thin smile spread across Shovel Blade's lips. "Don't play down your deeds, please. Of course I've heard of you."

"We did what we had to do, Mr. Blade." Applejack had had this conversation far more often than she cared to count. "We weren't heroes, we just fought for what we believed in."

"If hero mean sincere pony, why may not every one of us be a Hero?" At Applejack's surprised look, the undertaker again turned his head away, almost as if ashamed. "Sorry. I just thought it appropriate."

"It was," Applejack replied without thinking, then she caught herself. "But could we talk this over another time, maybe? There's arrangements we need to make."

"Of course." Shovel Blade pulled a pen and a clipboard from beneath his desk.

***

Sugarcube Corner, three hours later

"You actually spoke to that weird pony?" Rarity stared at Applejack in disbelief. "I never could do that."

"Whatever is that supposed to mean?" Applejack asked. "He seemed a nice stallion from what little I could tell."

"Oh, he is always perfectly polite, but he just seems..." Rarity paused, struggling for the right word. "Shifty."

"Shifty? Are you serious?" Even as Applejack was saying it, she remembered the strange way Shovel Blade had avoided her gaze. "You mean because he never looks you in the eye?"

"That's part of it," Rainbow Dash interjected. "He's also never at parties..." She broke off as everypony's heads turned towards Pinkie. "Come to think of it, why isn't he?" Dash asked. "You never let up until everypony's your friend and comes to your parties. What's so special about him?"

Pinkie bit her lip. "I can't tell you."

"So you do know something." Rarity's eyes were gleaming with curiosity. "Why would you let anypony get away with not being your friend?"

"He is my friend. He just doesn't like parties." It was a sight to behold - Pinkie was speaking very slowly, as if weighing every single word.

"How in the world could you ever be friends with anypony who doesn't like parties?" Twilight asked. "They're what you do best."

"Girls, I learned a long time ago that not everypony enjoys the same things," Pinkie said. "Shovel Blade doesn't exactly have it easy, and I really can't say any more, and would you look at that, we need a fresh pot of tea!" She took off towards the kitchen, a little faster than strictly necessary.

"That was...weird, even by Pinkie's standards," Twilight finally said, breaking the stunned silence around the table. "What was that all about?"

"I don't know, and honestly, I don't care that much," Applejack replied, rising. "Well, thanks for the company, girls, but I need to get going. I have a wake to plan."

"Are you sure you don't need help with that?" Rainbow Dash asked.

"Thanks, but this is something me and my brother and sister have to take care of by ourselves. It's a family thing." Applejack pressed her hat down over her eyes and left.

***

The kitchen at Sweet Apple Acres, two days later, 7 a.m.

The wake had gone off as planned. It had been a sad day, naturally, but they hadn't let it get them down too much. Granny Smith wouldn't have wanted everypony to just sit around and cry all day.

Applejack sighed as she let her gaze wander over the messy kitchen. The foals had been the most difficult part. Applejack was secretly glad that she hadn't been the one to explain to them why Gran was gone and wouldn't come back.

Don't lie to yourself, Element of Honesty, a voice seemed to say in the back of her head. You did that once before, and it nearly tore apart your family. You would gladly have explained all this to your own foals - because that would mean you had any.

She sighed deeply. Her brother had Fluttershy and the twins, and Apple Bloom and Spike were slowly getting to the point where foals - or hatchlings, whatever you'd call them - were more than just a possibility. Applejack would very likely have a third nephew or niece before the end of next year.

I never thought I'd be the one who gets left behind, she thought. The farm takes a lot of time, but is that really all there is?

A voice cut into her thoughts. "Excuse me?"

She whirled around, and her eyes met the intruder's. She had a brief impression of deep, dark red - almost black - before the other pony drew in a long sharp breath and collapsed against the doorframe.

"Oh my goodness!" Applejack jumped up and hurried to the door, only dimly realizing that the pony looked vaguely familiar. "Are you alright?"

He looked up, and she recognized the undertaker, Shovel Blade. "Yes. Sorry about that - I haven't had such a strong impression in quite a while."

Impression? "You're not making sense."

He stumbled to the table and sat down. "Could I have some water, please?"

"Of course." Applejack went over to the sink and filled up a glass. "What are you doing here anyway at this time of day?"

"I was about to go to sleep when I noticed my coat was missing. I must have left it here." He raised his head and looked at Applejack, though he avoided direct eye contact. "But that's not the issue at hoof anymore, is it?"

"What do you mean?" Suddenly Applejack shivered. Something about this stallion just was ... off.

He sighed. "I must ask you not to tell anyone about this."

"About what, exactly?" Her confusion was rising by the second.

"You've probably noticed that I avoid other ponies." He stated it matter-of-factly.

"I haven't seen you around much, and Pinkie said something about you not liking parties or somesuch," Applejack said. "Is there anything wrong?"

"'Wrong' isn't exactly the right word." Shovel Blade took a deep gulp of water. "I work mostly at night, so I'm usually asleep or at work when Pinkie throws her parties."

Applejack felt a twinge around her neck. "You're dodging my question."

"Sorry. This really isn't easy for me. Pinkie is the only pony I've ever spoken to about this." He drained the glass, then he raised his head and looked directly at her. "You are lonely. You dream of having a family, of raising your own foals, rather than just being Aunt Applejack to your brother's colts."

She felt as though somepony had tightened a noose around her throat. "How...how do you know that?"

He smiled, though she could see the sadness behind it. "I just do. It's my special talent. I look at anypony, speak to them for a few minutes maybe, and I can tell their deepest dreams and wishes."

Applejack was speechless. She had heard of unicorns with talents for abstract things - Twilight was one of them, after all. But she'd never heard of an earth pony with this kind of ability. "Then why don't you speak to ponies more? You could do a whole lot of good with a talent like that."

"You don't understand." He bowed his head. "I can't control it. I speak to anyone, and I know. I feel what they're feeling, I see their dreams, and it breaks my heart, because I've seen too many of those dreams shattered and torn. That's why I'm an undertaker. The dead don't dream."

She tried to wrap her head around that. What would it be like to live with a talent like that?

Shovel Blade stood up. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you all of this."

He was almost at the door when she finally managed to speak. "How do you do it?"

He turned in surprise. "How do I do what?"

"How do you manage to live without other ponies?" She stood up and slowly walked over to him. "Don't you feel anything yourself? Friendship?" She hesitated. "Love?"

A strange expression flickered across his face. "I loved, once. She's gone now."

"What happened?"

He smiled wistfully. "Life happened, as it does. She's with somepony else now, and I'm happy for her."

"Does she live here? In Ponyville?" Applejack couldn't have said why she was so interested in this, but the stallion fascinated her because she simply couldn't understand how anypony could live so alone.

"Of course she does. You know her quite well, I'd say. She's your sister-in-law, after all."

She took a few seconds to realize what he was saying. "You mean ... Fluttershy? She was the one you loved?"

"I never could tell her." A strange undercurrent crept into Shovel Blade's voice. "She deserved - and got - so much better than me."

Applejack recognized the emotion. She knew it all too well. Self-loathing. He really means what he says.

"I'm isolated from others." His voice was quiet, and Applejack had the impression that he was talking more to himself than to her. "It's okay. I've learned to live with it."

"It's not." At Applejack's forceful words, the stallion raised his head in surprise. "Don't try to lie to me, Blade. Or to yourself, because that's even worse. I should know."

"What do you mean?"

Applejack realized that she was opening up quite a bit more than was reasonable with this near-stranger, but she felt she owed this to him. "I tried to get my sister away from her husband. Years ago, when they were barely teens."

Shovel Blade's reaction to that was unexpected, to put it mildly. He threw his head back and laughed. "You did what? The Element of Honesty tried to break up a happy couple? Is this some kind of joke?"

"Stop that!" Applejack realized she was shouting, but she didn't care. "I didn't just try, I managed. They separated for over a month before some ponies knocked some sense into me. I almost destroyed her happiness."

"No, you didn't." Shovel Blade sounded calm, reserved. "You never could have done that."

"I ought to know what I did!" Applejack shouted.

"I didn't mean it like that," he countered, seemingly realizing his mistake. "I believe you tried, but you never would have managed that, not permanently. I've seen Spike and Apple Bloom. I know their dreams. There is only one who could separate these two, the black pony with the scythe and the hourglass, and even then, I suspect they'd find a way to stay together."

Her breath caught in her throat. "Are you serious?"

"Rule Number One: I never lie about the things I see. Oh, and by the way, I just broke one of my other rules, Number Two: I usually never tell outsiders anything about the things I see." He stepped closer. "But I saw how this is still cutting into your heart, even after all these years, so I had to do this for a mare I like."

The words took a few seconds to really sink in. "What did you say?" she finally asked, raising her head to meet his eyes. The shock on his face told her everything she needed to know - he'd let slip more than he'd intended with that last sentence. "I thought you loved Fluttershy."

"That was a long time ago, Applejack." He forced a smile. "You might as well say that Spike loved Rarity once - it's true, but it has no bearing on the present."

"Why?"

The single syllable made him frown. "Why what? Why do I like you?"

"Yes. Why me?" She stared at him, challenging him.

"Because you're honest. You don't begin to guess how many ponies in this town hide behind masks." His gaze was fixated on the doorframe. "For years, even your dreams were modest and down to earth. They never really took flight, and so they never were in danger of crashing. But then something changed. You wanted to find your special somepony, to raise a family, and when years went by and you didn't find anypony, it started to poison you, as unfulfilled dreams often do."

He stepped away from her. "Something shook you to the core and drained that poison. I never knew what it was, until now. But it won't do, Applejack, not forever." His gaze finally found hers again. "I've seen you torture yourself with this for years, and I won't stand for it any longer. Find the one for you, Element of Honesty. I'll do what I can to help you, because I don't want to see you suffer like this anymore." He took his coat from the rack beside the door and left without another word, leaving Applejack to her thoughts.

***

Blackspade Funeral Home, 10 p.m., two weeks later

Applejack took a deep breath. She still wasn't sure whether she was doing the right thing.

Oh, just go for it. What's the worst that can happen? The little voice in her head sounded uncannily like Rainbow Dash tonight.

She knocked on the door, which creaked open after a few minutes to reveal a rather surprised-looking Shovel Blade. "Applejack? What are you doing here at this uncelestial hour?"

"I've thought a lot about what we talked about the morning after the wake." She looked around. "Can I come in?"

"Of course." He stepped aside and let her walk in, leading her up a staircase. "The ground floor is for business only," he explained as they made their way up. "I'm afraid it's a bit of a mess up here. I don't get a lot of visitors." He sounded perfectly controlled, yet Applejack knew better. She had seen behind the mask, and she knew that he was alone by necessity, not by choice.

He opened a door and led them into a small living room. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, thanks, I'm good." Applejack looked around. Even for one pony, the room was small. She had grown up on a large farm, and this would barely qualify as a storage room at the Acres. It was also austere to the point of sterility - a small sofa, a low table, a glass cupboard with two or three bottles in it, and a small bookshelf did little to make the room feel lived in.

Shovel Blade seemed to notice her gaze. "I rarely use this room. I do all my work downstairs, and I usually only come in here to read a little."

"It's a pity. With a little work, this might turn out really nice." Applejack smiled. "My sister knows her way around a toolshed. Perhaps she could help you make this into a real living room."

"What would be the point?" The quiet bitterness in Shovel Blade's voice hit Applejack like a punch. "Who would ever see it? Who would appreciate it?"

"Who knows?" Applejack's voice had gone just as quiet as Shovel Blade's. "My gran always used to say that there's a special somepony out there for everypony."

His mouth curled up into a smile. "My mother used to say the same thing."

"Is she...?" Applejack couldn't bring herself to finish the question.

"Hm? Oh, no. But my parents live way out in Vanhoover. I see them once a year at best." He cast a glance in her direction. "But this isn't really about me. You wanted to talk about something."

"Yeah. I've had a lot of time to think about what you said, and I believe you were right." Applejack swallowed hard. "It's time I got me my special somepony."

"I'm glad to hear that," Shovel Blade said, still smiling. "If I may ask, do you have somepony in mind?"

Applejack got up and walked over to the window, looking out into the darkness. "I think I do. I want somepony who knows what hard work means, not some Canterlot sissy who's never done an honest day's work in their life. Somepony who isn't afraid to say what they think, even to me - especially to me." She turned around and looked at the undertaker. "And I don't care what the rest of Ponyville or Equestria thinks about them. Let everypony believe that he's a strange pony, a shifty one, because I know better."

Shovel Blade raised his head and met her gaze. "You can't mean that."

"I'm done with lying to myself." She stepped closer, until their muzzles almost touched. "I'll be completely honest with both of us, Blade. I'm not sure if I love you. This isn't what my sister feels for her dragon, I'm pretty sure of that."

"Of course it isn't." Shovel Blade was still holding her gaze. "You're not her, and I'm not Spike. But I can tell you one thing." He blinked. "I have no idea what you're feeling right now."

She frowned. "What does that mean? You said you could always tell."

"That's actually not quite true," he replied. "The impressions I get are strongest with ponies I've never met. With friends and family, I can tune them out. And right now, I don't get anything from you at all. This has only happened to me once before."

Something seemed to fall into place in her head. "With Fluttershy?"

"Exactly." He leaned closer. "I love you, Applejack. But are you really willing to share your life with a gravedigger? What will the other ponies say?"

"Let them talk all they want." She closed the distance and pressed her lips to his. A strange warmth seemed to erupt somewhere inside her chest, as if something had been waiting for this moment for all her life.

She broke the kiss and grinned. "I've never shied away from hard work."

I'm a Joker

"They accepted me.

After I nearly destroyed their town.

After I tried to make myself into their supreme ruler.

After I ran away twice without so much as a backward glance.

Why? Why are they doing this? Why are they so nice?

Granted, I helped save the world from a corrupt Harmony, but that came later. They accepted me even when they had no way of knowing I'd be important to them, or to anypony in the world.

The Great and Powerful Trixie. How utterly self-absorbed and vain does that sound? Yet believe me when I say it's a necessity in my business. You've got to advertise yourself, make yourself out as the best thing in the world, or nopony will ever pay any attention to what you do, no matter how good you're at it. I've seen performers that brought tears to my eyes with how good they were laid low by an inability to sell their act, either to audiences or to promoters. It's a jungle out there. Only the strong survive.

You might wonder why I sound so cynical. The world rewards the good ponies, doesn't it?

Well, it might. But I've seen the opposite happen far too often to still believe that. The world doesn't really care either way. Sometimes, cynical frauds reach the highest heights of recognition and admiration. Sometimes, genuinely nice ponies get left behind. Life's like that, it's uncaring and painful, and anypony who's trying to tell you different is probably selling something.

That's what I used to believe, anyway. I'll never be able to repay Twilight Sparkle and the others for what they did for me.

Tartarus, she forgave me. I nearly destroyed her town, twice, and she just forgave me. I might sound a tad redundant here, but even now, I still have trouble wrapping my head around that. Spike managed to push through the walls I had built, walls I wasn't even aware of, and liberate the potential I had buried beneath my anger, hatred and regret.

Why did I ever bother with that stupid amulet, anyway? Why did I save up every last bit I made on that rock farm in the hopes they would buy me something useful for my revenge? Why didn't I listen to the shopkeeper's warning?

It was the dumbest thing I've done in my life, and believe me when I say there's no lack of candidates for that particular list.

Come to think of it, no, it probably wasn't the dumbest thing I've ever done. It comes close, but still, getting myself involved with that pegasus stallion still ranks as dumber.

I wonder where he's got to. Or where she is now, for that matter.

Do I need to spell it out for you? I was a stupid young mare - still a filly really - and I was curious. My mother was livid, but my father was worse. He was so calm about it all. He turned me out onto the streets with just enough bits to not starve to death within the week.

Oh no, I certainly won't tell you. No matter how much I hate them for what they did, they're still my family. I couldn't do this to them. Also, I don't want them trying to ride the coattails of my newfound success and popularity, and doesn't that sound bitter and vindictive?

Thoughts like that make me realize I still have such a long way to go. I don't think Twilight could ever think about her family like that, even if they did to her what my folks did to me. I'm not even close to being as good a pony as she is.

I still marvel that an Element would pick somepony like me. Again, I have to wonder why. Was I just the closest thing Respect could find?

Or perhaps that's the whole point. The Elements don't make you special, and you don't have to be all that special to be found by one. I just had all the respect I could ever feel locked away somewhere inside, and it must have felt that. But I'm certainly not a better pony just because there's a shiny colourful metal necklace with a blue gemstone with my name on it somewhere in the palace at Canterlot. Twilight is a good pony, but that doesn't have anything to do with her being the Element of Magic. Spike has his faults, Element of Resolve or not.

I'm sorry. I shouldn't bother you with all of this. Besides, there's something I need to do. Thank you for your patience."

***

The shattered remnants of Zecora's old doorstop didn't answer. They never had, of course, not once in all these years that Trixie had used them as a silent counterpart in these one-sided conversations. But there was a difference this time, the first time she had held one of these sessions since she'd unexpectedly become a hero of Equestria. She felt relieved, and resolute.

She stared at the night sky. It was barely past new moon, and the thin yet waxing crescent struck a chord inside her.

I let you go. Perhaps I was right, perhaps I wasn't, but it's time I finally faced the music for what I did.

She picked up the letter lying beside the doorstop and slowly read the sender's address for what felt like the hundredth time.

Manehattan Adoption Office, 325 Long Street, Manehattan

"I want to know who you are."

Trixie levitated the paper knife over and cut the envelope open.

Zaleilah

"Happy Hearth's Warming Day, Spike."

He turned in surprise. Apple Bloom was closing the door to the large living room where they had celebrated Hearth's Warming Eve, smiling at her husband. "You're not as sneaky as you think."

"What are you doing up at this time of night?" he asked, walking up to her.

"I could ask the same question." Apple Bloom sounded strangely nervous, almost evasive.

"Well, if you insist ... I wanted to see this room in the dark."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I love winter nights." Spike walked over to the window and looked out at the falling snow. "I always have, ever since I was a hatchling. And we worked so hard at decorating, I wanted a quiet moment to see the results, before we take it all down again."

"We don't have to do that right away, you know," Apple Bloom said. "We can leave them up for a few days."

"Yes, but these are Hearth's Warming Eve decorations, and I wanted to see them on their day." He grinned bashfully. "That sounds stupid when I say it out loud, doesn't it?"

"I don't think so." Apple Bloom lay down on the sofa, and Spike sat down next to her. "But why are you doing this now? This isn't your first Hearth's Warming Eve here."

"Well..."

The sheepish grin on Spike's face told her everything she needed to know. "This isn't the first time you've done this." It wasn't a question.

"I've been doing it as long as I can think back, even when I still lived with Celestia, and then with Twilight." He lowered his head. "But no one's ever caught me."

"Spike, you make it sound like something shameful. It isn't." Apple Bloom smiled. "A little strange, perhaps, but I'll chalk that up to growing up with a princess for a mother and a bookworm for an older sister."

He bared his teeth in an exaggerated parody of a threat. "Don't badmouth my family to my face on Hearth's Warming Day, Apple Bloom."

"Or what?" she teased. "You'll eat me?"

"I might," he growled. "You certainly look tasty enough."

She pressed a hoof to her forehead. "Oh, woe is me! The evil dragon wants to eat me. Please don't do it, dragon, I'm far too young to die."

Spike leaned in closer. "Not good enough, my damsel in distress. You look like a meal fit for a king, and you'll have to do better than that if I am to leave you untouched."

He saw her swallow hard. "Alright." She looked up to him with huge pleading eyes. "If you won't spare me, what about my child?"

"Your...?" He broke off as the full force of what she'd just said hit him.

She nodded, taking his hand in her hoof and guiding it to her belly. "Our child. Will you spare him? Or her?"

Spike sank lower into the cushions. "How long have you known?"

"Two days. Right before Pinkie's party."

"I'm going to be a father." He said it tonelessly, barely louder than a whisper, and for a second, Apple Bloom's worst fears took hold of her.

Does he want it? Is he ready for it? Am I ready? Do we want a family when we're still this young?

And then his voice pulled her out of her dark reveries. "I'm going to be a father!" He managed - just - to keep his voice down, but the wide, silly, happy grin on her dragon's face was enough to dispel all her dark thoughts. "That's why you seemed so nervous all day, isn't it?"

She felt a smile tug at her lips. "Yeah. I wasn't sure..."

"Shh." He hugged her. "We'll be a great little family, no matter what."

Something caught her eye. "Look, it's stopped snowing."

"So it has." They looked out the window at the clearing night sky. "Hey, a shooting star!"

"And another." Something inside Apple Bloom's chest seemed to stir at the sight of the two bright lights.

Spike's eyes suddenly flared up with green light. "Whoa." He shook his head, but the light vanished as quickly as it had come.

"What in the hay was that?" Apple Bloom stared at her husband in alarm.

"They're happy."

Two simple words, yet she felt tears rising up. "Who is happy?"

He turned his head towards her, and she saw tears in his eyes as well. "I think you know, Apple Bloom. I know you felt it just as I did."

She leaned against him. "Yeah, I did. But how do you know?"

He pointed at his eyes. "Dragon sight. I've read a lot about it, but I never understood what it meant. Not until now."

"Will you ever stop surprising me?" she said half-jokingly.

He grinned. "Consider us even. Though I don't think dragon sight is quite in the same league as your little surprise."

"Let's get back to bed." Apple Bloom yawned. "There's a long day ahead."

At the door, Spike stopped and pointed. "Well, would you look at that."

Apple Bloom turned her head and saw the sprig above the door. "Mistletoe." She grinned impishly. "Not that you need an excuse."

"Oh, look who's talking." He returned the grin and briefly pressed his lips to hers. "Happy Hearth's Warming, AB."

"Happy Hearth's Warming, Spikey."

Aphrodisiac

"Twilight, dear, is there anything the matter?"

Twilight Sparkle looked up at the question, wondering for a moment how anypony could say something like that. The look of true worry in Rarity's eyes made her realize that she'd let her guard down quite a bit more than she'd intended.

"Why would there be?" Twilight forced a smile. "This is one of the happiest days of my life. My little brother is a father now."

Rarity smiled knowingly. "Just as I thought, then."

Twilight bowed her head. "Was I that obvious?"

"To be completely frank, yes, you were. Certainly to someone who's known you for as long as I have." Rarity sat down next to Twilight. "You've picked a nice place to sulk, I must say."

Twilight looked around, taking in the sights of the royal Canterlot gardens at sunset. It had been a beautiful day. Images flashed before Twilight's eyes - Spike and Apple Bloom, nearly bursting with joy holding their firstborn; Big Macintosh giving tips to Spike, at least half of which were utterly ridiculous, always with a straight face; Sweetie Belle tentatively holding her sundaughter for the first time, lips drawn into a smile she was patently unaware of.

She sighed. It had been a wonderful, perfect day.

"Exactly the kind of day you've always wanted for yourself, is that it?" Only Rarity's question made Twilight realize that she'd spoken that last sentence out loud.

She struggled with herself for a moment, finally giving in. "Yes. Did you see my mother's face? She was happy, yes, but she also wants little Twily to finally get in on the fun."

Rarity laughed. "Trust me, Twilight, it's not all fun and games." She turned serious. "Is this what you want? Or do you just feel you have a duty to fulfill?"

"I'm not sure," Twilight admitted. "There are days when I feel I only need my work and my books to be happy, and then there are days like this, when all the old friends come together and I see everypony with their families." She bit her lip. "I always feared I'd be the last one standing."

"Last one standing?" Rarity stared at Twilight for a second or two, then she frowned. "Oh darling, please don't put it like that. You're too young for that kind of self-pity."

"Am I?" Twilight let her gaze wander upwards. "Six friends, five of them married, two with children, a third with a foal on the way. What does that make the sixth?"

"The one who has more obligations to fulfill than any two of the others combined, perhaps?" Rarity sounded curiously stern. "Everypony finds somepony eventually. Some of us are lucky enough to get their special somepony when they're very young, and some take a little longer. Do you think Shining Armour is less happy than Spike, just because he didn't find Cadance as early as Spike found Apple Bloom?"

"No, of course not. But..."

"Stop." Rarity pressed a hoof to Twilight's mouth. "He - or she - is out there somewhere, and you will find him or her, and that's final."

The certainty in her friend's voice managed to lift the gloom on Twilight's heart ever so slightly. "You're right." She managed a genuine smile. "Sorry. I didn't mean to bring you down."

Rarity returned the smile. "You have no idea how often I've had this kind of conversation with my sister. Compared to some her worse - shall we say, episodes, you're practically bouncing with happiness." She gazed intently at Twilight. "Still, I can feel that there's something else. You're not just wallowing in self-pity. What is it?"

"Little Spike is all grown up now." The words escaped Twilight almost against her will. "I mean, yes, he's been with Apple Bloom for ages, and they've been married for so long, but now that he's got a family of his own..." She choked, trying in vain to suppress her tears. "I'm scared he'll forget me."

"That has got to be the most unfounded fear I've ever heard of." Twilight stared at Rarity, taken aback by the dissonance between the harsh words and the gentle tone the fashionista was using. "What have you been through together, Twilight Sparkle? Need I even mention Sombra's Door? His greatest fear was losing you forever. Why in the world would he give you up just like that?"

"I know that he won't do it, Rarity!" The anguish that Twilight had built up over the years broke loose. "But I can't help it. My brother has his family and his duties in the Crystal Kingdom, and now Spike has his family too. You and Fluttershy are mothers, Applejack soon will be, Rainbow Dash and even Pinkie Pie have tied the knot, and I'm the small-town librarian stuck in time while everypony else is moving forward."

Rarity shrank back for a second, then steely resolve crept onto her face. "You're the saviour of Equestria, several times over. You're the Element of Magic, and the favourite student of Princess Celestia herself. You teach at the School for Gifted Unicorns, the most prestigious post any unicorn could dream of. And you deserve every last bit of praise you get for all that."

"And what use is that during those long winter nights?" Twilight retorted. "You can't hug a career, or cuddle with it."

"Perhaps not." Rarity refused to budge. "But this is not a permanent state. You will find love, probably when you least expect it."

Twilight turned away. "I hope you're right, Rarity." She looked back over her shoulder, and Rarity shuddered at the forlorn look in her best friend's eyes. "I already sound enough like a bitter old mare. I don't need to actually become one."

***

"Not there? What do you mean, it's not there?"

Golden Dawn, head librarian at the Canterlot Royal Archives, raised one eyebrow at the young mare in front of him. "I am truly sorry, Magistra, but Transformative Thaumaturgy, Volume One is currently lent out."

"Lent out?" Twilight had to suppress a nervous twitch, staring at the dusky golden unicorn in front of her in frustration. "Who in the world would want that book in the first place? Even I hadn't heard of it before my current assignment."

"Well ... I'm not supposed to tell you, but if this is as important as you said ..." Even so, Golden Dawn hesitated.

"It's a direct mission from Princess Celestia, Dawn. I do think that qualifies as 'important'."

"Let me check the records." Golden Dawn dove into his filing cabinet, emerging a few minutes later. "Here it is. Lent out two days ago to Magister Icy Night."

"Icy Night?" Twilight was growing more confused by the second. "I thought I knew the names of all Court Mages, but that one doesn't ring a bell. Do you happen to know who that is?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, I do." Golden Dawn smiled. "He was only recently promoted to the rank of Magister, at the newly founded faculty of ..."

Twilight mentally slapped herself. "Theoretical and Applied Ritual Magic. Of course." She turned and moved to the door, throwing a quick "Thank you, Golden Dawn!" back over her shoulder.

"Don't thank me yet, Magistra Sparkle," the librarian muttered to himself when she was gone. "You don't know what you're going up against."

***

The faculty for Theoretical and Applied Ritual Magic resided in one of the old astronomy towers on the campus of Canterlot University. Naturally, it had to be the one farthest removed from the library. By the time Twilight arrived at the foot of the tower, the sun had set and the first stars were glittering in the night sky.

She thought for a moment to leave and come back the next day, but then she saw light from a window on the top floor. Princess Celestia's voice seemed to resonate in her head. This is important and can't wait. She pushed the door open and began her ascent, eventually emerging from the winding staircase into a small bare room with only one door that proudly bore an inscription in golden letters:

Magister extraordinarius Icy Night, magica thaumaturgica et ritualia

Extraordinarius? she wondered. Not a regular professor, then.

Not that it matters. He's got my book, and I need it. She knocked on the door.

"A moment, please!" somepony called from inside - a male voice, with an undercurrent of exasperation. Hoofsteps followed, and then the door was abruptly yanked open. "Yes, what is it? I thought I'd left explicit instructions to not disturb me tonight!" The figure was barely more than a silhouette to Twilight; the room behind the door was almost completely shrouded in darkness.

Twilight instinctively shrank back from the other pony, but then her resolve kicked in - and perhaps just a hint of her sarcasm as well. "I'm sorry, nopony told me. Just a few seconds of your obviously precious time, and I'll be gone."

"Very well. Come inside; I need to keep an eye on the circle." He turned and marched back into the room, and Twilight followed. Once her eyes had adapted to the gloom, she saw that she was standing in a huge, austere room, bare except for a large bookshelf on one wall, a writing desk on another, and a huge circle on the floor in the middle of the room that immediately drew her eye. Six large candles were spaced around the circle, forming a hexagon - or perhaps a hexagram. Only one of the candles was currently lit, and not much else seemed to be happening, yet Icy Night watched it intently for a second or two before turning back to Twilight.

"So, what is it? And who..." He broke off as he seemed to realize who he was talking to. "Oh. Forgive me, Magistra Sparkle, I didn't recognize you at first. What can I do for you?"

Oddly, Twilight felt that the temperature in the room had dropped when he realized who she was, but she chose to ignore that. "I have an assignment from Princess Celestia. Research into the field of thaumaturgy. I need a book for that, and the librarian told me you had it."

"Transformative Thaumaturgy, Volume One, I presume?" When Twilight nodded, Icy Night stepped over to the bookshelf and pulled a large, rather heavy-looking tome from the bottom shelf with both front hooves. "There you go. I only borrowed it out of nostalgia anyway. If you don't mind, I'm rather busy at the moment, so if you could leave now?"

"Doesn't look like it." Twilight immediately wished she could take those words back - you never criticized another professor's work to his face unless asked to do so.

"What was that?" Icy Night turned towards her, and she finally got a good look at him. He was a unicorn - naturally, for a professor at this branch of the university. His coat had a slight yellowish tinge to it, but Twilight presumed that that was only the candlelight; he was probably pure white. The disheveled mane falling to either side of his face was the colour of the night sky, pierced here and there by lighter blue spots.

And then her eyes fell to his cutie mark, and she gasped. A tower, surrounded by a circle of seven stars. The sign of Magic. He had to be an enormously powerful magician. Why have I never heard of him?

"Hey!" Twilight realized that she'd been zoning out. "Who do you think you are, barging into my office this late at night and making light of my work? Magistra or not, Princess' pet or not, that's just not done!"

What did he just call me? "What do you think you're insinuating here, Magister extraordinarius?" she shot back, lending a particular stress to the last word.

"Oh, don't deny it, Twilight Sparkle." Icy Night was now completely focused on her. "You have the greatest magical potential of any unicorn ever born, and you let it go to waste unless the Princess tells you to do something. No guts, no initiative, no sense of what you could achieve if you put your mind to it!"

"Who are you to judge me?" she shot back. "How dare you question the Princess' judgement?"

"I'm not questioning her. I'm questioning you." He turned back toward the circle, picked up the lit candle and used it to light one of the others. "You have quite the record in saving Equestria, and don't think I'm not grateful for not having to live under nighttime eternal or the rule of chaos, but what have you ever done with your magical potential? You aged a dragon, for crying out loud, and you were barely more than a foal at the time. How much good could all that power have done?"

"And how much chaos and destruction could it have wrought?" Twilight couldn't believe she had to explain this. "What would have happened to Canterlot had Princess Celestia not been on hoof to reverse what I did to Spike? I need to harness my power carefully, or I might accidentally blow all of Canterlot sky-high." She narrowed her eyes. "Besides, you're one to talk considering your cutie mark. What have you done lately?"

He stumbled and nearly knocked over the candle. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Magistra. Leave. Now."

Twilight had the feeling that the puzzle pieces were coming together in her head, slowly. Him pulling at the book; him lighting the candles by hoof. A memory surfaced, of the classes under Magistra Curativa Mind Eye, and something clicked.

"You have a channeling issue, don't you?" she whispered.

He turned in alarm, staring at her with wide, panicky eyes, which was all the confirmation she needed. "Which one is it? Narrowhorn?"

"No," he returned hoarsely. "Worse. Mana storing deficiency. The worst case ever recorded."

Twilight drew in a sharp breath, barely suppressing a gasp. MSD was an extremely rare inherited disorder. Simply put, unicorns affected by it might have all the magical potential and knowledge in the world, but they were unable to supply the raw magical energy to power their magic. Simple tasks, like telekinesis or lighting a candle, must be as taxing to him as an age spell would be to her.

"I'm..."

"Don't." Icy Night was shaking all over, and the word had burst out of him. "If there's anything in the world I don't need, it's pity from a waste of potential like you."

She decided to ignore the insult. "That's why I've never heard of you. And that's why you have the ritual circle. It's the only way you can actually do anything."

"I do have weak telekinesis, but otherwise, you're right." He seemed to have given in; his voice was flat and spoke of resignation. "I found the old books on thaumaturgy and ritual magic years ago, and it showed me how I could be of use to anypony." He looked up. "Do you understand now why you frustrate me so much, Twilight Sparkle? You have all the potential I have, plus the ability to actually power it, yet you let it go to waste. Powerful unicorns like you have a duty to Equestria, to make life better for everyone."

Twilight smiled. "But I have. I don't have to run around all day working flashy magic to make life better for everypony around me. I've done that simply by being their friend."

"Oh, is that so?" Icy Night's lips curled up into a sneer that looked disturbingly familiar to Twilight. "I've followed your career, Magistra, because I wanted to see whether you'd ever wake up and smell the coffee. Where is your family now? Where is your faithful assistant?" He leaned in closer. "Where is your special somepony?"

The last question pushed her over the edge. She did not need a reminder of that hole in her life so soon after that party.

Icy Night never knew what hit him. One second, he'd been standing there next to Twilight and taunting her, and the next, he crashed painfully into his desk, thrown across the room in a purple aura of telekinesis.

Twilight stood there for a second or two, frozen in shock, then she stormed over to the other unicorn. "Oh Celestia, I'm sorry! I don't know what came over me!"

Icy Night scrambled to his hooves, relieved to find nothing broken or bleeding. "You don't need to apologize. I was completely out of line."

"But you were right."

"Excuse me?" She'd whispered that sentence, and he apparently wasn't sure he'd heard her right.

"You were right," she repeated at a normal volume. "That's why I got so angry just now; I just recently talked this over with a friend of mine. My duties simply don't grant me the time to find anypony, and all my friends are moving past me."

"Then you're doing it wrong." At Twilight's surprised look, Icy Night grinned. "I needed to have that knocked into me by force as well, so I should know what I'm talking about. If it's really important to you, you will make the time for it." The grin widened. "Though hopefully not literally. I think temporal magic is still banned by royal decree."

Memories surfaced. "And rightfully so, I guess." Twilight forced a smile. "Thank you, Magister. This has been a most enlightening conversation." She picked up the book and headed for the door.

She was almost there when she heard a whisper behind her. "Perhaps we could do it again?"

She turned and had to fight a giggle. Icy Night was standing there like a schoolcolt, front hooves crossed, peering downward, and even in the gloom, his blush was impossible to overlook.

"I would love to." He managed to raise his head and look at her in wonder. "Though perhaps not the part with the hurtful remarks and the telekinetic throwing."

"Oh, no, no, no," he hurried to reply. "Once is plenty for that, thank you very much. But we could ..."

"Talk?" Now Twilight was grinning impishly. "I'd love to. You probably know more about ritual magic than anypony else in the world."

"I should think so, yes." He returned the smile. "Until we meet again, then."

"Good night." She walked out and pulled the door shut.

***

"And so it begins." Princess Luna giggled.

"So begins what, sister?" Princess Celestia had just entered the observatory where Luna had spent the evening, utilizing her private telescope.

"Oh, don't play coy, Celly," Luna said. "I know why you gave your student this particular assignment, and I was just making sure it worked out."

"By your reaction, I presume it did?"

"They're taking their first steps, yes." Luna sighed. "I cannot tell whether this will lead to friendship, romance or just a professional relationship, but it will be sufficient to draw her mind away from the shadows."

"Good." Celestia cast a look upwards, at the starry sky. "They will need to be at their very best."