Delightfully, Dynamically, Dubiously (Deviously!)

by B_25

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Comedy, Starlight Glimmer, Romance, Adventure, Twilight Sparkle, Princess Celestia, Alternate Universe
Length: 17072

"You'd be more useful if you were a rug beneath my hooves." Seconds passed. "If it meant you would step all over me? I would gladly transform into a carpet." A groan. "Shut it, jerk." And then Starlight and Spike went off to rule the world.

Starlight Glimmer!

The village fears the filly who turned the mayor's son into a broom!

Left by her family, banished by a princess, all for beating Twilight Sparkle.

Thankfully, on her dubious, evil trek, a dying, enamoured dragon, vows to assist her. Quiet and competent, Spike is everything she needs. However, all his calm, electrifying quips about her and her body are enough to deck him through a wall!

And Starlight can't tell who she hates more: him, or the world!

Commission for Barbarity!

Want a story for yourself? Then check out my commissions page!

[Cover by Mutter_Butter!]

Published 2021-07-02 01:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2021-07-02 01:10:02 UTC

The Prologue

Delightfully Devious
B_25 & Barbarity

The house on the hill bore a lawn of dead grass and a tree stripped of its branches. The bark creaked at the blow of cold winds. Over this hill loomed the majesty of a distant village.

The buildings radiated vibrant colours.

While the house decayed to dullness.

The door to the home leaned from one hinge. Behind it opened the living room that lacked anything living. It did, however, consist of a couch missing a cushion, a lamp without a bulb, and two standing, arguing husks.

These living husks had once been parents.

And before they had been parents, the two had been a happy couple.

"I am DONE with that filly! You hear me? I’m done with her—done with all of this!”

One of the husks, a violet pegasus, stood by the hanging door. Dull light flooded through its gap and fell on her back. The mare stepped forward to jab her husband with a hoof. “Should have left her at the hospital the second we saw her horn. WHY DIDN’T YOU LET ME LEAVE HER? What kind of unicorn comes from an earth pony and a pegasus? SHE WAS BAD NEWS THAT WE REFUSED TO DO ANYTHING ABOUT!”

The stallion huffed. "And how many times, dear, will I have to tell you this? Genes can sometimes skip a generation! You met my mother, and she was a unicorn!”

“SO HER CURSE IS BECAUSE OF YOU!”

“...isn’t your father a unicorn?”

"I THINK YOU SLEPT WITH ANOTHER MARE!"

"Dang it, Sunlight!" the father growled. "That isn’t how that works! You’re just throwing accusations around because you’re angry!”

Sunlight thrust her muzzle upward. “Damn right I’m angry, you useless, good-for-nothing husband! I’m upset because I have to have that thing as my daughter! That we have to keep on moving, that we have to keep being hated because that girl refuses to be anything close to normal!”

Ground Hawk stomped his hoof through the floor, snapping a plank as its splinters flew upward. "And what do you suggest we do? Return her like you would a toy at a shop? Maybe ship her off in a box to an orphanage short of orphans? Why don’t you go on yellin’ and tell me just what I should be doing right now?”

"We used to be loved in that village, and then that girl went and—"

Something knocked at the door. The couple glared at each other as their shoulders rose, and their breathing slowed. Shuffling and composing themselves, they began toward the door with the veneer of being ordinary.

Ground pulled on the knob gently so it wouldn’t break off like usual.

On the other side, sitting on a wooden square meant to be a porch, was a mare cradling a broom to her chest. She delicately stroked the wooden pole and shushed it like a mother would a baby. Next to her, standing, was a huffing filly with her head turned.

Violet sparkles consistently sprinkled from her horn.

And then the parents stopped playing pretend.

"Not again! DEAR CELESTIA, NOT AGAIN!” Sunlight laid the weight of her foreleg over her forehead, storming back inside the house. Her husband would deal with the trouble as she indulged in the drama. "SICK OF THIS! SICK OF THIS, SICK OF THIS, SICK OF THIS!”

Ground watched his wife leave behind him, sighing, before turning his attention to the guest. “Yes, Miss Mayor?

The mayor glared up at him from the broom. "Your daughter.”

There was a cry from behind. “DEAR CELESTIA, WHATEVER DID WE DO TO DESERVE THIS GIRL!?”

Ground growled over his shoulder. “That’s ENOUGH outta you now. Git upstairs! We’ll discuss this later.”

Seconds after that, the sounds of violent hoofsteps stormed up the steps—then a door slamming.

With a sigh, Ground turned back and looked at the coddled broom. "Now then, miss, do you care to explain what that broom has to do with my daughter?

She scowled at his words, and he flinched.

"This is not a broom!"

He squinted. "Right! Sorry… does this broom go by some kind of special name or something?”

The mayor thrust the stick right before Ground’s muzzle. "This is my son!"

He clenched an eye at it as the other peered across it. "Your son is a broom?"

"No, you hillside trash!" The mayor returned the broom to her chest, sweetly stroking it again, before glaring at the filly at her side. The filly turned her head away as well, deciding to glare at the distant tree of the hill.

The mayor fumed at this. “Your little monster turned my son into a broom!"

"WHAT WHAT!? SHE DID WHAAAT!?" The stomping of a titan echoes from the ceiling above, as splashes of dust fell from the overhead planks. Soon hoofsteps stomped down the steps, and a blur shoved aside her husband. Sunlight flexed out a wing on approach, pinching the ear of the turned filly.

Starlight whimpered at the sudden vice grip as she finally faced the scene. She cried the more her ear was lifted, forced to rise onto her back legs—and still being lifted from them. Inches above was the face of a mare set on fire.

“YOU WORTHLESS CHILD! TURNING OTHER CHILDREN INTO BROOMS NOW? DO YOU JUST ENJOY WASTING YOUR GIFTS? DO YOU JUST LOVE GETTING THE WHOLE WORLD TO HATE YA?”

Starlight twisted on her little hooves, forced to jump around to alleviate the grip on her ear. "Ack! M-Mom! C-C-Cut it out! He was picking on me! He didn’t stop even when I asked, so I—”

“SO INSTEAD OF JUST LEAVIN’, YOU HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO TURN HIM INTO A BROOM!” Sunlight raised her grip higher, forcing the filly to be on the tips of her hooves. “WHEN ARE YA GONNA GROW UP AND QUIT MAKIN’ EXCUSES FOR YOURSELF? YOUR DADDY HAS BEEN TELLIN’ YOU ALL THE WRONG THINGS OVER THE YEARS!”

The filly squealed as tears raced from her eyes. She growled and barked up at her mother. "YOU DON'T HAVE T-TO SHOUT IF YOU'RE ALREADY G-GONNA YANK MY EAR!"

And then the filly cried as she jerked into the air by her ear. She hovered, dangled, and started to cry uncontrollably.

"YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, YOUNG MISSY!"

The mayor, on watching all of this, finally decided to clear her throat. "Enough! Release your daughter this instant, miss Sunlight!"

"BUT SHE’S MY—"

"DO AS YOU PLEASE AFTER MY SON IS SAFE!"

All of the shouting drowned into the harsh winds. Cold rain started to pelt the property. Sunlight sighed as drops attacked her mane, lowering it, and singing her scalp in coolness. Her wing released the filly, who crashed onto the porch, scampering back while cradling her swollen lobe. She didn’t feel for the end of the porch, and fell over, splashing into a puddle of mud.

Starlight laid in the grossness as three heads appeared above, peering down at her cold, dirtied, and crying form. The filly shivered and sniffled and wiped the tears. Richer blue sparks trickled from Starlight’s horn.

"Just look at yourself now, Starlight Glimmer.” Her mother no longer glared at her as the anger in the mare calmed. Rather, disappointment consumed Sunlight’s expression. The mare shook her head and walked away. “And look where you’ll always be if this keeps up.”

Starlight had stopped the tears as emptiness swirled inside. She removed her itty hooves from her ear, enduring the sting, as they went to wipe the streaks of mud from her coat. While doing this, the filly looked at the remaining adults.

Her father sighed as he looked on, too weak to do anything before, but now, lowering his shoulders. He fished down an arm for Starlight to grab, which, after some hesitation, she latched onto. Pulling her from the puddle to the porch, Ground nestled her beneath his frame, protecting her from the rain, the mayor, while offering a faint warmth.

Ground looked to the mayor. “Please forgive the episode. This family… ain’t quite what it used to be like.”

“I could tell.” The mayor smiled to be snide, and could not smile for any other reason. "Certainly the stallion of the house, aren’t you? Can’t even protect his filly from her own mother.” Her gaze fell on the child with idle amusement. “Maybe that’s why she’s so aggressive.”

The father swallowed, nodded, and had nothing more to say on the matter. “Miss… why are you bringing this matter to us first? Shouldn’t you look to restore your son before laying down the law?”

A wet smack across his face was the response to those words.

“The audacity! If I wasn’t already aware of the absence of your intelligence, I would have spit on you next!” The mayor returned her hoof to the bristles of the broom, unsure as to the area that would comfort it. “I should have pushed your family back to the swamp! A mere relocation to this clearly wasn’t enough to protect this town from your daughter!”

Another voice rasped beneath the stallion. Starlight’s head poked out underneath his chest and between his strong forelegs. They closed, gently, to contain her wiggling outburst. "That doesn’t matter to us! I could teleport this house anywhere in a flash!”

“Then how about you teleport it as far away from this village as possible!” The mayor stuck her snout into Starlight’s. The two glared at each other. "And don’t talk back to your superiors!"

"You're not my superior!" Starlight chimed loudly as her voice cracked. "You can't even turn your son back! Nopony can!” She then proudly tapped her chest twice. “Nopony in all the world… except for me!”

The mayor growled and pulled away.

Ground, however, tightened his lock on his daughter and, together, waddled a few steps back. Starlight struggled but went with it. The mayor scoffed, stepping forward—but Ground placed a hoof on her chest. “That distance should suit you fine for now.”

The mayor bared her teeth. "Give me your daughter, now."

Coldwater pulled Ground’s messy mane over his face, his hair, horribly cut, as strands of different lengths split into different directions. The covering hid one of his eyes, leaving half of the other exposed. “Afraid I can't do that, ma'am."

“What? Now you’re pretending to play the stallion? You’re a bluff to what it means to be a male.” The mayor slapped down his hoof as the rain pattered against the wood. She, however, didn’t move. “Give me your daughter. Or else I’ll have to bring my son to Princess Celestia herself.”

She glared down at the filly. “The other pony, in all the world, that can easily fix this.”

Before her glare resumed on the stallion. “So give her to me now to correct this.” The mayor smiled again as viciousness dripped from her lips. “Or else Princess Celestia will be coming to take her later.”

The father strolled forward, leaving his daughter behind, who, without the living ceiling, was assaulted by the rain. Ground stopped before the mayor and laid his hoof on the broom. His lone eye carried from it and to the mare herself. Her smile froze like the tiny puddles at their hooves. "Threaten my daughter again, and that broom gets snapped.”

"I-I... y-you… you wouldn't dare!"

"Some folk believe my daughter is a witch or somethin’ of the sort.” Ground pulled his hoof back as he spoke, but not moving from his spot. “But they won’t think her capable of something’ like trans-mu-tat-ion or other just yet." Next, Ground groaned. "And seeing this vendetta you’ve waged against us, the village might be swelled to think that you’re just makin’ the whole thing up!”

Even with an open mouth, the mayor struggled to breathe. "T-This town's e-e-experience with your daughter would suggest otherwise!"

"You willin’ to risk that broom on it?”

"That's my son!"

"That broom’s a broom until my daughter’s horn gets involved.” Ground’s voice softened. "So, what’ll it be? You gonna let us fix this for you? Or are we all gonna have to start doing some unnecessary things?”

The mayor looked down and froze. After a while, she sat down, exhaling steam, seeming to have calmed down. She held her foreleg and balanced the broom on them. "Please give me my son back, and I’ll forgive this incident.” Her eyes settled on them, and although they burned, there was no hatred in them. “But make no mistake. Princess Celestia must be summoned to examine your daughter.”

Ground’s mouth opened, but the bouncing of little hooves on wood had drowned his voice. Looking to his right, he saw Starlight, with her mane slipped from its twig-tails. The muddy hair hung adorably over her face. She beamed up at her daddy.

“That’s perfect! That means the most powerful pony of all can see how strong I am—and take me away from this place!” Starlight turned to jump and, in the air, stuck out her tongue at the mayor. She then landed back on the porch. "And you."

Ground kept his silence. His hoof hooked around his daughter’s neck and pulled her close. He lowered from his height and whispered into her ear. "Now go on, then. You know the right thing to do is to bring that boy back to normal.”

Starlight pouted and tapped at her daddy’s face. "But he called me a witch! That the princess would come and lock me away! That you were dirty and smelly and—”

Ground chuckled. "Well, I might be dirty and smelly, but you don't mind being close to me.” He ruffled her mane and leaned in close. “Do you?"

Starlight stuttered. "N-No!"

"Then what that colt said doesn’t matter to me.”

"B-But I'm not a witch, daddy!"

“Except you’re my little witch.” Ground brushed their snouts, brushing them together, indulging in the affection before pulling back. "And do you mind it when daddy calls you that?”

"Of course not!” Starlight squealed and furiously blushed. “But t-that's because you're my dad!"

"Exactly." The edge of Ground’s hoof stroked at Starlight’s cheek, which she flinched at, as she wiped away the mud from her coat—and staining his own with it. "And I also know you're not an evil filly. Or even a witch, for that matter.”

“Sunburst called me both!”

"Hurts to be called something horrible, doesn’t it? Especially when it’s not true." Ground stole the last traces of the mud, coming to smile, and tapping on the underside of her chin. Starlight was still sulking, but let her muzzle be lifted—right into a noogie. "But turning him into a broom wasn’t the right thing to do. You know that. I know you do.”

Starlight didn’t want to laugh—but she did. Giggling as she tried to twist out from his attack. Her father laughed as well, slowing his assault. “Now, what is that little boy going to think after all of this?”

Starlight's horn sparked green at the question—burning into the hoof poised at her scalp. Ground yanked his hoof away and patted at the lingers charged. His face contorted into pain.

"He's going to think to never mess with me ever again!" Starlight triumphantly shouted and stood as her father composed himself behind her. "And the rest of those dumb ponies are gonna think twice before calling me names!"

Ground swallowed the anguish and returned his hoof to the ground. The burnt spot flared in its contact with the cold rain—a patch of skin, exposed, where there had once been his coat. He was muddied, frozen, and hurt. An upset wife was still left to deal with back inside the rundown house. That, and the ire of the mayor awaited the weakened stallion now.

“But that ain’t the way to go about it, sweetie... please... listen to me now.” Ground pushed onto the hoof and through the sting, feeling it buzz as it splashed in the water. "Those villagers may have been callin’ you an evil filly, but them sayin’ all that doesn’t make it true. When you went and actually changed the boy, though, those empty words now have some merit to them.”

Starlight shook her head as her wet mane fell along her neck. "But none of that matters! All that counts is what you think, right, daddy?"

Ground became awash in hopelessness. He squealed on a hitched breath. Swallowing, he tried to speak again. "And darling… what’s gonna happen… in the moments daddy isn’t there?”

Starlight turned away from him with a shrug. "Then all that matters is what I think! Everypony else is stupid, anyway."

Ground couldn’t bear to push this topic anymore with his daughter so blissfully unaware of the point he was trying to make. But the mayor was still watching, silent for the first time in their company—and he didn’t like what kind of notes she might have been taking. His voice croaked, but he carried on. "But what if those other ponies kept saying all those things… and brought the incident to Princess Celestia herself? What’s gonna happen there?”

Starlight was struck by a shiver upon hearing that name. She turned back around, swallowing, before thrusting her face upward to stare proudly at her father. "Then I would just tell her how stupid and mean everyone else has been being!” She raised her little foreleg when Ground opened his mouth to speak. “And if she wouldn’t listen, I would just beat her, and become stronger for it!”

She then crossed a foreleg over her chest. “I plan on becoming the greatest magician to have ever lived, anyway. And defeating Princess Celestia would be the ultimate proof of that!” She then dreamily sunk into herself. “That isn’t if she isn’t so impressed that she takes me for a student first.”

Ground clenched his eyes as he could not bear to see the happy face of his daughter. "S-Sweetie... now that’s… n-now that a-ain’t the way I want you to be with others now.” His voice crumbled further in every word. "You need others to be happy in life. You don't want to be seen as awful. You want—"

"But I don't wanna be like you!" Starlight’s squeal caused Ground’s eyes to open to his little filly. Her expression was a mixture of confusion and embarrassment. It was worse than any insult or splash of mud by a local. "You're a good stallion! But everypony spits when they talk about you—and mommy even spits on you! You shouldn’t let them get away with all that! You shouldn’t. YOU SHOULDN’T!”

Ground froze.

The rain slowed in its pour, warm or cold, he could no longer feel. Everything within him vanished, the violet of his daughter, imploding as she turned away from him. And then there was nothing for the moment. His heartbeat echoed in his skull, slowing, quieting, ticking.

Nothing could be done.

So Ground defaulted to what he always knew.

Doing the right thing.

Or.

Doing what needed to be done.

“Dear… can you please… bring him back?’

Starlight huffed from far ahead. "Fiiine."

The filly stepped before the mayor and, in closing her eyes and igniting her horn and the sparkles at its base surged upward in a consistent, magical swelling. Then a flash blinded the scene for a moment. The power infused was more than what was needed for the spell, but Ground soon found himself able to see again as the light waned.

Something warmed the end of his snout. Ground’s eyes focused on the edge of his muzzle, seeing a resting cherry blossom. Its scent was sweet as it teased there was more of it to be. His gaze carried off into the distance, where more of them fell, their gentle sway replacing the rain.

On either side of the porch, the grass leaned with the breeze, rich and emerald, unlike how it’d been before. On the center of the hill, the dead tree stood thick and tall, the life behind the falling blossoms.

And then Ground felt the need to check behind him.

The house had been restored with a rich bark of stained black. The windows, before shattered and fogged, were now clean and complete. There was a prancing from inside the second floor. Either it was glee or hatred at the sudden transition.

Looking back at the mayor revealed a colt resting on her outstretched forelegs. The mare had been so amazed by the change that only the struggling in her arms returned her attention to them. She at once pulled the boy to her chest, cradling him against it, as he was still frozen to the world.

"My baby! My sweet little baby!" The mayor lowered her muzzle to his and rubbed the two together. "Tell me you’re okay! Does anything hurt? Where do you need mommy to kiss to make it aaalll better?”

The colt blinked as everything came at a delay. His shocked expression barely shifted as his eyes broke upward. He choked. Fighting to speak. He barely managed a suffocated whisper. "I-I... I couldn't move... c-couldn't speak! Always needing to breathe, but n-never being able to! I felt so squeezed, l-like I was rolled up, a-and—”

"Oh, shut up, you big baby!” Starlight fell on her rump and crossed her diminutive forelegs over her chest. Her head turned away in a huff as she spoke. “It wasn't that bad. You just need to grow up. That’s what you need to do."

Ground’s attention was taken beyond the bickering as his eyes rested on the bubble that now encompassed the hill. Everything inside of it was warm, nature restored to its richest beauty, as the climate within was set to perfection.

“Duh! Because I’ve already turned myself into a broom!”Starlight sat and crossed her forelegs. "I wouldn't cast a spell I’d never tested first. Sheesh!” She glanced away, huffing and pouting. “Besides, the spell only lasts an hour anyway.” Then, she mumbled. “I’m just glad mom didn’t use me then.”

“ENOUGH OF THIS POINTLESS SQUABBLE!” The mayor shot to her hooves as her boy stumbled onto his hooves, steadying himself on four legs as though for the first time. His mother pulled him by the neck, and he struggled off the porch with her. “The two of you better be ready for when I summon Princess Celestia!”

Starlight raced to the front of the porch and, unexpectedly, happily waved the two of them off. "Will do! Oh! And tell the princess that I'm excited to see her!" Her hoof dropped a few moments afterward, and the filly came to jump from side to side. “I'm going to be the beeest. I'm going to be the beeeest. Nopony will be better than meeeee!"

Ground looked over his daughter to the mother and son in the distance, as they phased through the bubble set on the hill. They were assaulted by the wind and rain as mud splashed from their stomping hooves. The mayor glared back at them, dirtied and angry, while her son stared back, confused but not so mad.

Then the two returned to the real world beyond this place.

"See, daddy?"

He looked down at his daughter as she turned and looked up at him—even though she had no reason to look up to him anymore. "That mean old mare can move us as much as she likes! I can teleport the house anywhere in the world, and make it nicer than Princess Celestia’s castle!”

Her horn sparkled in a flush of violet.

Until Ground's hoof rested upon its tip.

"That’s an awfully kind offer there, dear." The vibration in the horn softened as its sparks subsided. They were still overflowing—but now at their usual amount. His foreleg slipped from the horn to around Starlight’s neck, coming to hug her against his chest. “But it might be better off, for all of us, at least, if we return everything to how it was before, okay?”

Starlight planted her face into his chest, rubbing into his coat, not caring for the dirt or the smell. She looked up at him through his caramel fluff. “But isn’t it better like this?”

"Better is usually… well… better but… when it comes too easily… you’ll… you’ll attract the wrong ponies with it.”

"But mommy always complains about how much she hates this place!" Starlight planted her chin, upward, on his chest. "Wouldn't mommy be nicer if we made this place nicer?”

Ground breathed deeply. "She’s one of those ponies that you should worry… I-I mean… this… all of this… this isn’t the way things are meant to be…” Out of breath, he looked down at her. “It’s just not normal, baby girl.”

“That’s because I’m not normal!” Starlight squeaked. "So normal things don't apply to us! We can have what we want, when we want it, thanks to me! Shouldn't that be better than normal? Shouldn't we want better?"

Starlight shook her head as she kept blathering. "This... doesn't make any sense! You don't make any sense! Everypony should be wanting to get better! Just look at me! I learned how to change ponies into objects in a week!"

Her voice struggled with the excitement at the greatness of her accomplishments and her father’s apparent disappointment with them. His disapproval won out as its weight crushed her lungs. "A-Aren't you... p-p-proud of m-me?"

"Always proud of you, baby doll.”

"But... you don't sound very proud."

"I-I am… I promise you that I am but… s-some things are complicated in this life.”

"But I solve complicated problems every day!"

"It's—"

"GROUND! THE WINDOWS ARE BACK AGAIN! GET IN HERE NOW!"

Starlight backed away from her dad as though he suddenly were not there. She looked up at him in confusion. “M-Mommy? But w-why is mommy mad? I made those windows b-better! Shouldn’t she be happy? Why—”

"IN HERE. NOW. GET IN HERE NOW!"

Ground huffed as he retreated through the door behind him, taking a moment to lean on the frame. He looked down at her as she looked up at him through watery eyes. “I’m sorry, Starlight. We can talk about this later. I promise.” He turned and disappeared a step into the house—but not without glancing back at her. "And don’t you ever forget. No matter what happens, I’ll always love you. You’re my little witch. The best little filly a dad could ever ask for.”

Then the father disappeared into the darkness of the home.

Starlight took one step into his shadow before it left too.

"I… love you too, daddy.”

Her quiet voice went unheard.

Starlight lingered on the porch. Seconds passed until shouting came muffled from inside the house. Sighing, she sauntered to the edge of the plank, and took a seat, cupping her forelegs, and laying her tired muzzle onto her forehooves.

Splendour surrounded her. It was a pink Spring, able to restore a beauty not even known to this land—and all from a filly. The air was warm, the grass, green and healthy, with a tree not only brought back from the dead… but fundamentally altered altogether.

It should have evoked wonder and praise from everyone.

Yet the filly basked in her greatness alone.

Without taking her eyes from the ground, Straight lit her horn, and then there was a flash, with the pink bubble on the hill—popping. Time and space resumed within the realm. The tree hardened and dried before cracking apart. Cold rain zapped life from the grass. And the yelling from behind grew louder.

Starlight submerged her face into her hooves.

Whimpering.

Y'know, I-I might not h-have acted l-like it but… I h-heard… everything you g-guys said… b-before we knocked. Starlight sniffled in the fight to hold back her tears, repressing that familiar burn. Her puffy eyes lifted to see afar, over the hill and across the valley to the great beyond—where a castle stood on the highest mountain of them all. But there. That’s where e-everything will change! Once I’m accepted into Canterlot, I’ll be taught everything I need to know! I’ll be recognized for my greatness! Ponies will be amazed at my tricks! Even the princess will be impressed, and I’ll have everything I’ll ever need.

And more.

The sun was bright, and the sky was clear, as warmth awash the village the next day. In the center of the town, ponies amassed the streets, standing before a wooden stage. Royal Guards, dressed in gold, stood at attention to keep the peace. Behind the platform, a long, red carpet was laid toward it.

“Will she be coming soon, daddy?” Starlight asked upon peeking out from between her father’s forelegs, coming to snuggle into his chest fluff. Sparks burned from her horn, but the coat was thick enough to take it. “She should be here by now, right? Aren’t princesses always early? Or are they always late? I forgot which one it’s supposed to be.”

Strong forelegs squeezed and wiggled her petite shoulders. Starlight retreated underneath him, snugly held. Ground’s hoof raised and ruffled her mane. “Calm now, little witch. You’re on the opposing sides of the correct answer.” He chuckled and turned his head to cough out a spit. He cleared his throat. “Now here’s how the sayin’ goes! Princess is always on time, yes-sir-we, unless an important matter requires her to be more on time elsewhere!”

Starlight frowned. “Aren't we important?”

“Why, ‘course we are, baby girl!” His hoof left Starlight’s messy mane in peace. returned to the ground. “Just not urgently important.”

Starlight still huffed, blushed, turned her head and grumbled. “I want to be the most important, urgent thing in the world.”

“Wish no more, because to daddy, I’d float in space if it meant you over the world.”

The chatter of the surrounding crowd murmured about Princess Celestia’s appearance. They gave up their day, one of the few free of work, to stand, waiting for hours, all for some pony to show up for a moment. Not only that, but to have to see her from a distance, to listen to her speak, all so the town can talk for a week about whatever she had said.

Starlight glanced around at sad ponies. Their lips spelled Celestia. The princess commanded their attention without trying. Her subjects gave it without request and with full respect. There were even new faces in the gathering, those from out of town, willing to travel, no matter the distance, without being asked.

All just to see one pony.

The stage enveloped the filly in a warm feeling. The princess hadn’t even done anything special as of late. No war won or a powerful spell was discovered. Everyone simply celebrated her bare existence.

What if it could be Starlight up on that stage?

The way she could transform the world if she so chooses; all the things she could do and show to her subjects.

That everyone, anywhere, would want to come and see her.

It wouldn't be me waiting for someone else, the filly thought as she snuggled out from her father's hold. It would be everyone waiting for me.

“Sweetie?”

Starlight turned around and looked up at her father. “I have to go to the bathroom!”

“Alright.” Ground nodded as he glanced around. “Here, I can walk you—“

“I can walk myself, dad!”

“But there's a lot of ponies here.”

“Geeze!” The little girl rolled her eyes. “It’s not a maze to get to the washroom and back.”

Ground sighed as he lowered himself to all fours; his muzzle brushed the furs of her snout. “Are you sure you'll be okay?”

Starlight sighed. “Going to the bathroom isn't anything special, dad.” She pounced forward and rubbed their snouts together. “Besides, if any other meanie boys try anything—I'll just turn them into a broom!”

Ground, even though he wanted to address that immediately, focused on wiggling their snouts together. “Okay.” Once they were done, he pulled up, taking a more stern expression. “But remember: rules of escalation first. And they are?”

“Um... do everything in my power before turning someone into a broom?”

“Yes.”

“But if I turn them into a broom first, then I don’t have to do anything else!”

“Starlight.”

“Fiiiine!”

Starlight started to disappear into the crowd, waving to her father. “Bye, daddy!”

Ground waved back.

Starlight passed beneath the bodies of shuffling ponies, matching their hoofsteps as she crossed through the crowd, coming into a clearing on the other side of the street. She snuck into a barren alley as \, behind, the chatter rustle whispered into the distance. Looking around to see none nearby, Starlight tapped her head to the ground.

The electricity at the base of her horn discharged into a thin layer across the ground.

Her eyes closed, and she saw a million dots of violet in the darkness, spreading outward throughout the land. It passed beneath the walking ponies, which became defined the same in her closed eyes. Then the stage grew out from the ground, as well as the guards set around it.

The magic traced the pathing of the active units.

Starlight raised her head and, when her eyes opened, they were dilated. Everything was silent, except the clacking of metal. The world had become an abyss, with only the critical elements defined in violet electricity.

The private section was square in nature with five guards, evenly spread, on each side. A few golden units pathed inside the space, on a set route, clearing the land, it seemed, for a landing.

Starlight nodded. Waving her hooves, the dots cleared from her eyes, returning the world to normal—except for the glowing guards. She looked out to the area to see a thin blue shield set over the space.

They only used a thin defence barrier to guard the parameter? It seems… weak to element magic. Maybe it’s needed more for detection? Starlight ceased the spell, and violet flushed back into her eyes. She looked upward at the flanking buildings. The caster must be in one of these in case of an emergency. Doesn’t seem like they're too focused. Hehe, think this is a village like any other, do you?

Starlight smiled upon backing into the shadow of a corner. The quickening of her heart, however, drained that smile. The quick and powerful burn swirled throughout her. It was fear.

Fear of attempting the unknown.

Something that a filly should not be doing.

At the base of her horn, those ever producing sparks had started to twirl to its tip, the dots merging into a stream, which thickened and dulled into grey. It spun and whipped and thinned like the wind. The effect carried downward, the girl’s horn, disappearing, as did the rest of her as the spell moved downward.

Starlight was erased from existence and, if it weren’t for the prideful squeaking and leaping of hooves on pebbles, none would know the filly was still there—much less unchanged. She danced in place as rocks shot away and patches of grass sunk beneath an invisible weight.

It worked! It wooorked! Hahahahah! I'm still alive! I'm the best, and the best is still alive!

Leaving the ally was easy as she spied out from its end. Across the street, a guard stood on the post, set to refrain the crowd before him should they dare to cross the line. It was a bunch of eager ponies hoping for an early peek at the princess. They were so happy to abide by the rules, forced to grind shoulders as they fought to look over the stallion—whom none dared cross.

Loooosers! That’s no way to see the princess early—much less become her next student!

Everything went to plan as walking between stationed guards evoked a different sense of superiority. Starlight strolled with her shoulders high, her head, more elevated, in a commanding gait as though the soldiers were set to guard and honour her. She was, however, mindful of the sound and effect of her walking.

And so, she walked on the tip of her hooves, as confidently as such a thing would allow.

Reaching a lone oak tree, Starlight fell onto the bark, sliding down and resting against it. Everything rushed to the forefront of her mind. The casting of a possibly fatal spell; the infiltration of Royal Guards; the leaving of her father, and now being moments away from seeing the princess.

Her hoof settled over her chest to repress the beating of her heart.

You have nothing to fear. You’re already better than Celestia's current student. She needs to be instructed and taught. You already know most things—and how to do them. You’re willing to break the rules to get things done. Her student lacks such a will.

You have everything it takes to be the greatest.

Now all you have to do is get Princess Celestia to see that.

Starlight smiled and then heard a rattling in the sky. She looked up through the branches to see a chariot afar in the sky. It descended, and within seconds, its wheels touched and rolled to a slowness across the ground. It came to a stop before two posed guards.

The filly leaned up at seeing the pilots unlocked themselves from their harnesses. The door of the carriage opened, and a mare hopped from the platform to the grass. Turning, she bit a handle beneath the opening and pulled out a series of steps—with the last settling onto the rolled-out red carpet.

She then stepped aside, bowing, as the snowy goddess appeared from the frame. Starlight held her breath as she tingled inside. Her chest burned, and her belly twisted. She warmed in nervous energy at finally glimpsing something beyond expectation.

Something beyond comprehension.

Princess Celestia ducked through the door before returning the sky with her stature, an angelic radiance warming the air around it. It was as though she bathed the surrounding air in personal sunlight. Unseen, but felt. Gentle, but consistent.

Starlight's breathing slowed as the tension in her chest waned. Bathing in the distant essence of the princess, everything terrible, melted, and Starlight set at ease. It feels as though she would be accepted. That, if she were to lose to spell, and to approach the princess, that maybe, everything could be talked out after all.

Starlight slowly rose with a bend in her foreleg, bowing not out of custom—but in the respect that was evoked. The filly lacked manners because most didn't deserve them. Yet, the princess’s presence compelled her—without the latter even knowing the little girl was here.

If... if there was anypony who c-could... help me... it would be her.

Princess Celestia daintily carried down the steps as she looked serenely upon the scene. Everything about her was calming, from her sweetly narrowed eyes to her slight smile, the way she could grace nature itself with her presence.

There wasn't even a mass rustling or chatter behind the parameter. Back where the guards were, all the ponies had become still and silent, evenly spaced, looking on to the princess that was great enough to be seen from everywhere. It was as though they were being descended upon by a goddess.

And Starlight finally rose, intent on meeting that goddess, ambling toward her...

...and slowly, on catching the door of the carriage, when some purple appeared from out of it.

What the heck is that?

Starlight watched on as the breeze blew her back a step. Over at the chariot, a lavender filly was hopping down the steps, invested all four hooves at every jump, and kept them tucked together on each landing.

The princess was just about to glance in Starlight's direction before she glanced back, watching the other filly, and coming to smile bigger at her. Once the other reached the bottom, she looked up only to have the princess's hoof rub at her head.

“It looks as though someone enjoyed the trip,” Celestia said while pulling the filly closer. “The world outside the library isn't so bad, is it?” Little hooves clung around her leg, and the princess gently laughed. “And you still had plenty of time to study in the chariot, didn't you, Twilight?”

Twilight rubbed her face into the princess's fluffy shin. “Mhmmhm.” She pulled back to beam up at her. “Was a little bit bumpy, though!”

“Now, isn't that a terrible shame,” Celestia replied. “Would you care to pilot it next time?”

“I don't mind a little bumpy! Makes it feel like a ride at a park!”

Celestia rubbed Twilight's mane a final time before stepping back. “That's my little magician. Now then, there is the matter of giving a little speech to the ponies of this village.” Celestia's mouth kept open as to say more—but didn't follow through on it. Instead, she looked aside. “How about you enjoy some more reading by that tree over there? If you promise to be well-behaved, we can do a bit of exploring afterward.”

Twilight twirled and jumped back before looking back up. “Without the guards?”

Celestia nodded. “Without the guards. It'll just be you and me.”

“Hurray!” Twilight's stubby horn flashed and, on her back, manifested a hard-covered book. “I better get to studying, quick, so we have more time to spend together.”

Celestia turned away as well as she started toward the stage. “And I'll try to shorten my speech.” She stopped and turned back, flexing out a wing, pinching two wingtips an inch apart. “But only by a little bit.”

“Okaaay!”

Starlight watched the exchange in watching the princess, becoming flanked by guards, forced to lower her head to listen to them speak. Not forcing them to start shouting, but rather, even in her greatness, bending down for their sake. It confused Starlight as to why she would lower herself to her inferiors—but the gesture touched her all the same.

I wonder if daddy has a crush on Princess Celestia at all. Everypony lovers her—so that should mean that daddy loves her too. If he got with her instead of mommy, then maybe he would be happier for it.

She couldn't help but smile as a spark inside started to warm.

And then we all could be one happy family!

There wasn't long to enjoy this excitement as the crunching of grass had softened. Starlight glanced to her side to see the other filly standing several feet away. Twilight's eyes were open wide, blinking, as her mane was swept back by the breeze.

Starlight stopped breathing.

And then Twilight stuck out her tongue.

Starlight choked. W-What the... s-she can see me!?

Starlight's response to this was, of course, to pull down an eyelid and stick her tongue back. “Thbptttt!

Twilight's face recoiled in disgust—before thrusting back forward, pulling down both her eyelids and spitting with her tongue at Starlight. “Thbptttttttttt!”

Starlight met this threat by doing precisely as Twilight had done, except wiggling her ears while she was at it. “Tthhbbpptttttttttttttt!”

Then Twilight starting doing the same.

Except louder.

“TTHHBBPPTTTTTTTTTTTTT!”

“TTTTHHHHBBBBPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTT!”

Both, in trying to go louder, ended up panting instead.

“I'M STARLIGHT!”

The other filly matched her.

“AND I'M TWILIGHT!”

Breathing, and glaring at each other.

“H-Hooow...” Starlight swallowed her next breath, fighting to keep it down, as she went on speaking. Her spell dropped as her form appeared on the grass. “H-How did you... know... I was...”

“Cause... because... you're a rookie!' Twilight limply threw a hoof forward, trying to lift it, weakly, to point at Starlight's mane. “Can't... even... conceal your magical production!”

“The... the guards couldn't detect it!”

“Yeah! But... they're just the Royal Guards!”

Both girls caught their breaths. They stood in the shadow of the tree, opposing each other, out of view from anyone. Everyone was focused on the princess on the stage, which left the twins to themselves.

“Seriously though,” Twilight went on as she leaned to the side, sliding the book off her back. “You finally learned invisibility, but you couldn't even control your raw, magical output?” The other filly blinked. “That's, like, the first thing they teach you in school!”

“And how did you learn it, then?”

Twilight wiggled her muzzle upward in utter self-satisfaction. “Me? That's because I was too powerful on my entrance exam.” She then pointed a hoof to the sky. “Do you remember the sonic rain boom that tore across Equestria?”

Starlight hesitantly nodded.

“Yeah, well, that's my magical influence, right there.” Twilight's hoof dropped back to the grass. “For something so powerful to reach so far without losing any of its volumes? Princess Celestia was impressed enough to help control my raw magical output.”

Starlight was impressed, but her first instinct was to lie about it. “Pleeease! That's as far as you got?” She rolled her eyes. “We barely have a library here—much less a prestigious school. Everything I learned was from figuring it out.” She snorted. “Not by needing to read what every trained expert had to say about it.” And then she grinned. “And, despite that, we're still on the same level.”

Starlight then rubbed at her chin. “Scratch that. I'm a little better than you are.”

“Pfft!” Twilight rolled her hoof in the air. “You might be smart enough to work out the invisibility spell, but you couldn't even figure out how to control your magical pouring.” She then laughed. “Doesn't matter how well you cast that spell—if something so little gave you away.” Twilight shook her head. “Aren't country ponies supposed to be focused on small and simple things?”

“That's because I'm not a country pony!”

“Yet you live in the country.” Twilight chuckled. “So what does that make you?'

“A filly where she doesn't belong!”

“Currently? I would agree.” Twilight looked aside to the distant guards. “Y'know, I should have called one of them by now.” She then glanced back at Starlight. “Get you thrown out of here. Or maybe I should tell Celestia you've been bullying me.” She snickered. “Then you could say hi to Nightmare Moon for me!”

Starlight scrunched her little muzzle and flipped her head away. “Nightmare Moon? She would be nooo problem.” Satisfaction radiated from her coat. “Fight her. Beat her. Question her. Consume her.” She tapped her hoof across the length of her other foreleg. “Then use all that power and knowledge, with me added, to come back, and impress Princess Celestia.”

The filly now circled around Twilight, who had seemed to retreat into herself a bit, the other filly becoming the prey. Starlight's head tilted up as her eyes looked down at the other. “Getting rid of—no, eliminating Nightmare Moon would be one less problem for Celestia.”

Starlight's hoof stomped the ground, flattening the spades of grass beneath it, as her sole twisted into the dirt. Twilight had been staring at it. “But... n-no! That's not the way Princess Celestia likes things done! She...” Twilight's snout scrunched into itself as her hoof struck and pointed at Starlight. “...s-she would think you were nothing but the next big-bad-meanie!”

Twilight lifted her muzzle to feel another at its end. Starlight was opposite of her, the two, snout to snout. Their eyebrows started to narrow as the geniuses entered a lock.

Starlight grinned. “There's something you'll learn living out in the world that you won't find in the safety of a castle.” Her lips parted to reveal the glint of a fang. “And that, sometimes, you have to be a meanie, first, before someone else can be an even BIGGER meanie!”

Twilight's head recoiled as her hoof jabbed at Starlight's chest. “That doesn't even make sense!”

Starlight scoffed. “Yes, it does!'

“No, it does not!”

“Does too!”

“Does not!”

Twilight violently shook her head and stepped back. In the sky above them, grey clouds had started to roll in, obscuring the view of the sun. “Princess Celestia would never take you over me! Not when you're weaker, meaner, and smellier!”

Starlight stomped the ground as a splash of sparks blew from her horn.

“I DO NOT SMELL!”

“YES, YOU DO!”

Anger consumed the little fillies as both of their horns started to glow. Each stood a couple of feet away as they stared each other down. Winds came and lifted their manes off their faces. In the next coming seconds, Starlight heard the voice of her father.

Remember, even if they deserve it, ponies shouldn't be turned into brooms.

Promise me.

You won't turn ponies into brooms.

Promise on your love for daddy.

A lone tear streaked from Starlight's eye as they shut, and her horn blew forth a spell, one that was a jolt that tore through the air. Twilight gasped as a glint of a sphere surrounded her. It was a protective bubble that could block most matters—physical and magical.

And the bolt phased through it, easily, and struck at the filly.

Twilight reared back on two legs as the lighting tapped into her arm. It phased beneath the skin and bounced around, morphing the genetic makeup of the arm, that was until the foreleg inverted unto itself—producing wood in its place.

And then the filly's shoulders dropped as she looked down at her woodening body in disappointment. Then she lazily glared at Starlight with a shrug. “Really? Turning me into a broom? That's your powerful attack?”

Twilight's horn flashed as a violet bolt huddled at Starlight, who cowered and covered herself, shooting up a bubble—that the magic phased through as well. The purple lightning struck the filly on her arm, which became the shaft of a broom.

The two glared at each other.

Starlight looked over her foe to spot a lone tree far behind her. With a grin, her horn glowed, as the distant tree did the same—so too did the one behind her. Both fillies waited a second more—before screaming.

The trees groaned as they tore from the ground, as the snapping of roots was audible. There was the slow pouring of dirt—before it was whipped. The floating barks soared forward, aimed at the other filly, as the two didn't need to glance over their shoulders.

Both girls hopped and rolled to the sides as the oaks collided, their bark, cracking and crashing into one. Starlight was rolling onto her hooves by the time her magic captured the many branches of both trees. Each snapped from their source and hovered in the air like awaiting missiles.

“AAAHHHH!”

Starlight rolled her head with the weight of the world in charging the spell with the propulsion it needed. Her stepped forward was met with a crater forming beneath her hoof as she cast the branches ahead.

Twilight was standing and looking unfazed. Her expression was confident—even eager for the fight. Several hurdling branches blipped toward her, and yet, without flinching, she stood tall on a wooden peg.

The collection of branches clattered into sudden combustion that burned them from existence with a fire that couldn't be seen. Starlight's mouth was open as she stepped back, already panting. Twilight, however, was smiling, cool and composed. She even raised her wooden leg to the air and, on tapping it to the ground, twice, it morphed back into her fuzzy foreleg.

Twilight then raised an eyebrow from beneath her heavy mane. “Is that all?”

Starlight growled as the winds started to whip. Energy infused the air as sparks and flashes phased into existence around her. Lifting into the air, she was brought into the epicentre of her miniature storm.

In the distance on either side, on the upward curves that led out from this valley, the trees stacked across them were suddenly captured in the magic. Winds tore their leaves and crunched their essence into matter that fuelled the power of the coming attack.

Those trees started to tear from the ground as lightning struck. Bolts flashed as though part of some symphony, a tree lit on fire, one after the other, as it was lifted into the starting hurricane. Everything in the air twirled, circling around Twilight Sparkle.

And Twilight Sparkle didn't have to do anything.

Except pretend to be scared.

“Cease.”

There was a golden bolt that shot into the sky as it pierced the thick clouds. The blueness of the world returned, as did the brightness of the sun. Soft rain poured for but a moment, which struck the ground, streaking a rainbow behind the one who had entered.

Starlight's hooves had touched the ground in time to feel it quake from the weight of the other. The little girl was forced to look up enough to crane her neck. Even that only glimpsed to the underside of the coming giantess.

The bottom of a long muzzle appeared above, blocking both the sun and the sky before it tilted downward. Two massive eyes bore into the filly with a brilliant, violet, and violent glow. It was the act of an ant earning the disrespect of a goddess. The sun, crashing like a meteor as it swallowed the little one.

Starlight shivered as she stood before the size and might of the princess.

“And just who might you be?”

Those hovering eyes watched her without blinking, without expression, without any kind of detonation. Yet there was fury behind them. A cold burning that smouldered in the princess's stoicism. There was no correct answer.

In fact.

There was no answer to give at all.

“She's the meanie who started a big fight with me!” Twilight raced in from outside the scene, at once taking refuge behind her ruler's legs. She hid behind one, daring to only peek out her head from there. “Tried turning me into a broom and set all those trees after me!”

Celestia looked down at the blathering filly with a raised eyebrow. Twilight, twitching and choking from the pressure of the stare, thrust a hoof to the sky. “S... Starlight even said she'd consume Nightmare Moon to become even more powerful!”

Starlight choked and stepped back. “O-Only because you said you'd get the princess to send me there!”

Celestia glanced from each filly as her attention rested on whichever one was speaking.

“Because you were intruding on somewhere you weren't supposed to be!” Twilight yelped back without daring to leave the ground beneath her protector. “And you were the first to make a threat! Just... just look at her horn.” All eyes came to the object in question. “It sparks the angrier she is! I bet she didn't even mean to cast that much power!”

“I! I...” Starlight scrunched her eyes and muzzle and fought down a hiccup. “It's... I'm... I-I'm still learning, okay?!”

The constant breeze then spoke.

“Enough.”

Both fillies ended their glare and looked up to the princess. Celestia had closed her eyes as she stood there emotionless. After a few seconds of peace, her gaze returned to the world and set onto Starlight. “What Twilight says is true in some respect.”

Starlight swallowed and, even in her shaking, fought to stand tall. She was a child by herself, in trouble, and set to answer the greatest adult of them all. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw guards and strangers, other towering, dumb, and malicious beings.

Everything scarred into her fragile being. The cold grass on her hooves and, to her, the never-ending openness of this place. How, all around, disapproving strangers stepped closer, tightening their circle around her.

Even if they were dumb, the encroaching ponies in armour were still guards, with strength and magic, and the ability to detain her. All of them could take her away, without a change in her expression, no matter how much she fought.

Because no matter how weak the world around her was.

Filly Starlight was still weaker than it.

“Did you intrude on these private grounds and disrupt my student?”

Princess Celestia didn't even need to command the child, as her voice was enough to drag Starlight's head, as her narrow view couldn't take in all that there was to the goddess. The towering mare was a creature that, no matter Starlight's power, it would be an iota of a fraction compared to the causal energy rolling off the celestial being.

“Y-Yes...” Starlight answered as the oncoming winds whipped into her snout. “Although she started it.”

Another voice spoke in.

“Do not listen to that child for another moment!” All parties drew their gazes to the crowd, where a line of guards held back the villagers. At the crossed spears of two guards, the mayor stood. “She is the rascal that I wrote to you about! Responsible for various destructions of the village, the unauthorized magical testing of my villagers—and even the harming of my boy!”

The mayor struck a foreleg through the gap between the weapons, wagging her hoof around, as her eyes narrowed in anger. “She is a menace that, no matter how much further we push her family out of town, that the edge of her destruction still touches our homes.”

Starlight turned at the mayor and proceeded to jump in place. “I am not a bad filly!”

“YOU'RE A LITTLE WITCH! THAT'S WHAT YOU ARE!”

Starlight gritted her teeth as an explosion of sparks flared from the base of her horn. She no longer had to jump, as a force lifted her up, and winds sliced around her. The grass beneath became cut as various, severed spades, started to float upward.

“YOU WANT TO SEE A WITCH?! DO ALL OF YOU J-JERKS REALLY THINK I HAVEN'T BEEN CONTROLLING MYSELF!?” Starlight's voice boomed with the bass of exploding magic. In the space around her, trees and branches blew back at the blast caused by her every syllable. “WHY SHOULD I EVEN BOTHER PLAYING NICE—IF YOU WON'T EVEN TRY TO UNDERSTAND ME AT ALL?!”

Starlight curled into herself as zaps of electricity bolted into the sphere of her ball. As the seconds ticked on, collections of violet formed pools in the magical orb, and from them, powerful tendrils started to grow outward. Each extending in their thickness as they constantly sizzled from the power.

“ALL THIS TIME, I'VE BEEN DOING MY BEST TO KEEP NICE TO YOU ALL!” Starlight then unfurled from the epicentre of the floating sphere, high enough to look down at the ponies. When her forelegs moved, so did the tendrils of the thing. “AND FOR WHAT? SO YOU CAN MAKE FUN OF ME? TATTLE ON ME? SPIT ON MY DADDY AND SAY THAT HE SMELLS?”

Starlight thrust her arms back and her chest forward, the tendrils, slapping onto the ground, a high sizzle of electricity exploding into everyone's ears. The arms then swept back, pulling the ground and phasing through trees.

Any matter was sucked into the tendrils, burnt into a purple liquid, which seemed to thicken them both.

On the ground beneath the spectacle, however, the other filly had retreated further beneath her mentor. Taking solace in a shadow, where Twilight would be safe as another handled everything. Over the fluffy underside of a white chest, she saw the bottom of the floating ball and was teased with the power it discharged.

How magical residue infused into her horn, a power that had served its use, and hinted at its total capacity. The filly squeaked and fell into herself at sensing the potential in this magic. That, and who it belonged to.

But Twilight did not have to look at Starlight for long.

Back above the lands, the filly hovered in her bubble, her eyes, a blinding light. She was empty on the inside. Worn and tired and not knowing what to do. Starlight wanted to take revenge—but that, itself, was vague.

Do I... want to hurt these ponies...

...no...

...but they hurt you...

...hurting them back isn't right!

So they can harm you, without good reason, and that will be okay? But should you choose to hurt them back, with a good cause, suddenly it's wrong? For a filly fallen in the depths of logic, you know this to be an illogical way to live.

Daddy doesn't want me hurting ponies!

Your father is walked upon for that reason and lives a dismal existence for it. His potential is also unlike your own. Do you wish to live on a hill, in a crummy home, with a world that hates you for no greater reason than being yourself?

So long as it's with d-daddy, then may—

And what happens when daddy leaves you? Didn't you just break his promise just now? And anger a princess who can take you away from him?

Tch tch.

Why don't you just give in, Starlight?

Give in to me.

Give in to all that you were meant to be.

Look over there.

That Twilight is afraid of you now.

And the rest of the village is worse off than her.

The princess could prove to be troublesome.

But you'll be strong enough to beat her.

To take her castle.

Be able to set the world as it should be fixed.

And then you and your daddy can live happily ever after.

...all of that is... doing anything wrong is... is...

Is what? Don't speak from the resistance that is flooding through you.

Speak the truth.

Express the depths of your heart.

Stop struggling.

And let yourself be who you were meant to beat.

Fighting your nature is, after all, a lifelong, losing battle.

There would be no more of that conversation as Starlight slipped back into existence. Her eyes returned to the world as she, herself, was suddenly cold. Freezing and alone, in the center of power, above the world, and away from everyone else.

And she did not enjoy looking down.

Her eyes swept across the village to the frozen, terrified expression of villagers. No longer screaming or shouting or even saying names. Rather... it was horror on their faces. They'd known the filly could be a trouble maker and a hassle and dealing with power above their comprehension.

But now, it looked as though this was their first time seeing evil.

Her evil.

Starlight was lost in the depths of being looked on as a monster. Others were scared for their lives at the might of maliciousness. Just as she was about to feel the magic implode onto itself, Starlight caught movement out in the crowd.

There was a lone stallion, wading through the standing bodies, and fighting to reach the line of guards.

“DADD—“

And then there was a golden bolt called upon from heaven itself. Slim and quick as it appeared and disappeared like that. Suddenly, there was nothing. No hovering ball or whipping tendrils or slashing winds.

Starlight found that a subtle force was guiding her to the ground.

The rain started to pour in the surrounding area, composed of dark pink droplets, which never touched the ground. Starlight's hooves did, though, as she settled where there had once been grass. She checked her sides before looking forward—and looking up at the princess.

Princess Celestia's eyes were closed as her horn was surrounded in a golden glow. Around them, the pink rain had been frozen, ranging from droplets to logs of sap. Each one soon started to vibrate in their frozen state. The colour of yellow infused them all.

And then gravity resumed with a snap.

Starlight watched in terrified amazement as every droplet of gold—regardless of its size—patterned into the earth. In its impact washed out a heavenly aura that, from inside the brightness, manifested rolling grass.

Her head whipped around to far away, where a tree grew out from the ground, some, though, missing their branches. Others suffered bites of missing bark across their base. The world was returned. However, what Starlight had burned through was gone.

“The fundamental prowess of your power is destruction.” Princess Celestia spoke as her voice carried overhead, but the filly was still looking around, seeing her 'marks' on the world. “It consumes anything, so you can destroy everything. Your magical essence is a reflection of your deepest self.”

There was a pause.

“What you truly are beneath it all.” Starlight didn't hear the wind or feel its touch on her coat. Looking down showed the grass bending to some invisible sway—except for the burnt, smouldering patches. “Beneath our thoughts and feelings, and underneath the guidelines that struggle to make us do right.”

There was then a shadow, the size of a field itself, that cast over the filly.

Starlight looked up at the princess and the encroaching guards behind her. There was nothing for her to do. Even though everything in her fizzled, a slicing churning in her stomach said for her to run, to hide, to teleport out of here and run to the furthest sea...

...but the goddess before her, and the impression of the full magnitude of a walking sun, caused any life inside to cease. Starlight's tail swung to her forelegs, caught and being stroked. Everything was coming to an end. Tears were starting to burn in her eyes. And there was only one pony on her mind.

Before anyone could advance further on the fragile girl, there was a rattling of armour to the right. Everyone turned in time to see a duo of guards fall backward, to a clunk of their armour, as a stallion was strewn over them.

Starlight blinked as a tear dripped from her cheek. “D-Daddy?”

Ground was laying on top of the two guards after having thrown himself at them, coming to thrust his forehooves into each of their chests, rising, enough, to see his little girl. Mirth dressed his face as he rose at once. “Little Witch!”

He sprinted forward and lowered and swallowed his daughter in a hug that enveloped her against his chest. He was shushing away her whimpers, stroking a hoof through her mane. While her head leaned against his throat—Ground didn't raise a fuss about the stab of her horn—he looked to the army before him.

And too looked up at the towering princess.

“I'm so sorry for everything that has occurred this last little while,” Ground said with a bent head, unable to bow due to holding his daughter. His eyes scanned left and right on the grass before him. He seemed to be taking in the scene. “She excused herself to use the washroom and snuck off after that. I should have kept a better watch on her.”

He swallowed his next breath. “Please forgive her. She isn't a bad child. Just... the whole situation is complicated.” Ground shook his head and dared to raise it to the blank stare of the goddess. Celestia's lone eye was on him—but didn't regard much of him. “I don't have what it takes to show her the proper path. She's my perfect, little girl. Yet I can't... can't...”

Ground leaned back to bury his face into his daughter's mane, kissing her scalp, and rocking them in place. The filly snuggled against his chest as he looked back out to the crowd. “But you have what it takes to show her what's right, right? How to control and use her magic? Guide her the way I'm unable to.”

There was a long silence where nothing was said and, thankfully, nothing was done. It passed after a time. The princess, who had long been quiet, finally, broke her silence. Celestia was done looking at him, fixating more on the child in his arms. “I'm afraid it all depends on the denotation of your daughter's essence.”

Ground tightened his hold on Starlight. “How do you mean, princess?”

“I can see the love and affection you have for her filly has influenced her well in this stage of life.” Princess Celestia's eyes closed as the winds pulled back on her mane. “However, throughout the century, few have wrecked a world in a way that their harm still remains.”

Celestia's eye reopened, and gentleness faded from her voice.

“I'm sure it doesn't need mentioning the greatness of your daughter's magic.” Celestia stepped forward, and then did so again, doing so after every break in her speech. “Without a doubt, she is one of the chosen few that will leave her mark on the world.” Her wing then flared out and gestured to the surroundings. “But as you can see, unchecked, what kind of mark that will be.”

Starlight had to be tucked behind her father, which ended their hug, as the stallion came to stand.

Princess was a hoof away from them now.

“Your daughter manages to sow all this ruin in under a minute and not even at the age of ten.” Celestia's head finally shook. “I cannot allow such a possible threat not to be caught early.” There was a pause. “Do you understand what I am saying?”

Ground, even though spoken to by a princess, refused to talk.

“I will take her into my custody and do everything within my power to train her well.” Princess Celestia returned her wing to her side. Behind Ground, Starlight peeked out at this offer.

However, her father's hoof blocked her way. “She will have a fitting room in the castle with all the service a filly of her calibre will need. This will include textbooks safe to be in her possession as well as personal tutoring."

Ground's shoulders lowered at the offer from heaven. However, his face kept stern. It was a hopeless kind of stern. One where the corner of his eyes was filled with the face of his filly. With a heavy sigh, he looked back up at the goddess. “And what if Princess Luna?”

It was a twitch, but scorn flashed from Celestia. “Just how do you mean, sir?”

“Your sister was, if I'm not mistaken, as powerful and as well-meaning as my Starlight here.” Ground shivered in everything but speech. This wasn't a subject to be discussed, much less with the most powerful entity it was about. “Yet she fell onto a dark path. Unable to help her, you banished her to the moon for a thousand years.”

Celestia couldn't suppress the narrowing of her eyes.

Even Twilight, who had been standing behind her, and with the rest of the guards, fell a few steps behind them.

“And what is your point here, sir?”

“If you are unable to 'convert' my daughter,” Ground went on with the absence of breath, “what, then, will you do with her?”

Starlight had been watching all of this from behind the back of her father. She knew it wasn't anything special—that he wasn't anything special. That he couldn't hold back all those guards. Much less the princess.

The filly was actually stronger than him, so it didn't make much sense that he was protecting her.

That was the logic of it all.

And despite that.

Starlight felt safest, even in standing before the rage of a goddess, when her daddy was protecting her.

The princess hovered, in her slender, bulking mass, over them. Her slowing breathing was louder than the winds that tore grass from the ground. After a few seconds of composure, the princess announced their sentence. “She is not an immediate threat like my was sister, and so, such a punishment is not required here.”

She continued on. “Nightmare Moon had to be locked away for that amount of time, as her power, even now, would swallow and consume the world.” Celestia lowered her muzzle. “Your daughter wouldn't need such treatment. We would be able to place, for both her and the world, a series of protective procedures before then.”

There was another pause as the princess was done talking. There would also be no more dealing with this. Ground rose and stepped away from his daughter, that step, taking him a mile away from her.

Starlight stood in the open once more, no longer close to her father, as he seemed to be leaving her too. Ground stepped even further away—before glancing back. He was smiling at her. A tired kind of smile. One where the wrinkles near his lips came to flex.

“Well, if that's the way it needs to be,” Ground nodded at her before looking back to the princess, “then that's the way it needs to be.” He came to bow before the alicorn, who glanced down, confusedly at him. “It's the best path for my little witch. Will I still be allowed to see her?”

The princess smiled as her features lightened. She laid a hoof on his shoulder, before it came to his chin, inching it up to rise. Ground did so as he looked up and into her eyes.

Then Celestia spoke. “I'm sure, no matter the future, that we can discuss an allotment for that.”

Starlight started crying. Hyperventilating. Unable to see or breathe as snot started to clog her snout. Everything burned coldly within her as she stood in a world that was away from them. Giant, uncaring adults, who spoke as though she were not a pony.

That she was nothing at all.

...they're... going to take me away... from home... from daddy... from here... they'll take me and do things... they'll...

Starlight couldn't finish that sentence as sparks started again from her horn.

The tears pooling from her eyes and rolling down her cheeks, suddenly, started to reverse. Being sucked backward as her hyperventilation slowed. Soon she wasn't breathing at all. Not feeling any of the horribleness. In fact

She felt nothing at all.

Do you see now, child, the careless maliciousness of this world? Crying and shivering? What good does that do you? Look around you, now. No longer are those ponies scared of you now. All they see is a weak, whimpering child. But seconds ago—they did not even see you as a kid.

S-Stop it! STOP IT, STOP IT! Please... just stop.

Why should I stop—when I can show you better use for the energy behind those tears?

I REFUSE TO BE A B-BAD FILLY!

WITNESS GREATNESS!

At the base of the filly's horn, there was the pouring of blue sparks that froze the surrounding air. It contained, at its center, the anxious element that had frozen the filly before. Instead of her feelings affecting her, however, that pain was now to be cast on those who caused it.

“I suppose that if my little witch were to become a threat to the world,” Ground began as the princess's hoof started to leave him, “and harm to herself, that it would fall upon a powerful princess to construct the best situation for her to be in.” He was smiling, even as his hooves grasped the princess's foreleg—something that was a crime. “Which leaves this as a mystery.”

The tip of Starlight's horn, flared, at the same time that Ground whipped around, yanking the princess's foreleg over his shoulder. Before the princess could light her horn or flex her wings, the filly screamed, exploding a cool, burning blue that swept over the scene.

The blast swept the scene, and it encrusted ice on the princess's horn, at the tip, enough to cancel her spell. Beneath her, the stallion had entered a buck, and suddenly, there was a violent force on her chest.

The impact was discharged through the wobbling thickness of her coat. However, her foreleg was pulled on next. Celestia's eyes went wide as the stallion yelled his guts out. Her back legs left the ground as she was flipped in the air.

Starlight finished her spell and the roar that went with it. She panted in a cool sweat, looking around, seeing the frozen ponies around her. They were awash in a fear only a child could feel. It was enough to lock most in place.

And then she looked to her dad, Starlight's own eyes, widening in amazement, as he tossed a mare twice his size over his shoulder. Celestia hit the ground and, before she could hope to do anything—Ground threw himself on top of her.

The approaching guards, in seeing their princess attacked, something never witnessed in tier duty—rushed to her. Ground lifted his head in time to spot the little love of his life. And then he smiled as though it were the end of his life, a sudden peace, becoming him, at seeing his daughter for the last time.

The power of his love outshined the sun itself.

“I love you, my little witch!” The guards were behind him in a second as they ripped him backward and onto the ground. Bodies of armour dropped on him as his figure disappeared underneath their mass and might. Yet, he was still smiling, laughing. “Now go! And be good!”

Before anything else could happen, that blue splash came back, returning the ponies from their frozen state as the power seeped back into the filly. She launched herself forward, screaming, reaching out a hoof to the dad buried the royal guard.

“DADDY!”

And then her horn discharged again, disintegrating the filly into a million blue dots that then extinguished. On the ground, the princess rolled back onto her hooves. Glowing, her horn snapped the block of ice on its tap.

A golden glow flew out to capture the lingering sparks, but nothing was caught in the thick, wavering, magical net. Soon it burnt itself out of existence as the princess looked back at her guards. Few were already standing in a salute behind her.

“Arrest that stallion and ensure he is brought to the castle for trial.” The princess traced the direction of the wind, looked over the valley, and went to the mountainous horizon beyond here. There were woods set on the sides of the mountains. “Leave two stallions to return him, and the rest to block the parameter around that forest. That filly is not to be harmed—even in detainment.”

Princess Celestia turned to face all the guards that had joined the salute. Her eyebrow arched. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma'am!”

It was the period between afternoon and darkening evening inside the forest's depths, which, at its center, opened a clearing beneath the dense foliage of trees. On a lone, fallen log, a frog hopped across its length. It stopped after its next hop, though, in feeling a sudden change in the air.

It turned to see a collection of blue dots floating in the air, and, as its tongue shot out to collect a few, the poor thing buzzed in a flash. Its tongue retracted and slapped into its face, the item, falling back, knocked out behind the log.

The sparks hovered together as a floating wind pushed back the nearby plants. In a flash, there was a gasp, and the sound of hooves hitting the ground. Starlight fell out from the air and landed on her front. Slumped from the surviving of a nightmare.

“...mhfmhm... dad... d-daddy...” Her eyes were closed as her stumpy legs slid forward and back on the ground. “...daaaad... mhmm... daaaaaaaaad... where... nhm... are you?”

There was no response, and so the filly rose, on sore muscles, onto her hooves.

Starlight could barely stand as she wobbled in place, her sleepy face, looking around for her father. Coming to glance behind her, she widened her eyes, seeing the edge of the forest. There was a sudden slice in the ground, a view from a cliff that showed the low, sweeping lands from here.

The filly swallowed as she walked to the edge of the cliff. Standing in the opening of the forest, she looked out, seeing nothing but empty lands spanning outward. Her gaze carried out and up, that was, until spotting a particular mountain in the distance.

Once perched with a city and a castle.

And then the towering Celestia, and her fallen dad, entered her mind.

“N-No... NO! NO NO! NONONONO!” Starlight growled louder and louder as it sliced at her vocal cords. “NO! NO, NO, NO!” She bent a knee, smacking the ground with her other hoof, not caring for flaring pain. It hurt far less. “THIS... NO! NO! NOOOOO!”

Her voice squeaked as all power gave out. Her dirtied hoof lifted to her throat, needing to massage it. It felt like pins and needles scratched inside of there every time she tried to speak. Starlight was crying again. Breathing as though she were seconds from death. She was alone out here, in the woods without a home, no longer having her daddy—or anything at all.

They... they took him away... wanted to take ME away... were going to do... do...

Starlight swallowed painfully as the beating of her heart wouldn't allow her to continue that thought.

And I can't go back. I can't go anywhere. They'll be looking for me. Daddy can't protect me now—nopony can. Nopony ever wanted to help me. Now, they'll...

All those dumb, fearful villagers, she would no longer have to hold back against.

Starlight thought she was going to be scared, that she would curl into a ball, hide away from the world, and have nightmares of all that it would do to her—once it caught her. But before that all-consuming fear could take hold of the filly, she felt the influx of something else, the call of something that had been guiding her through life.

Anger.

“Why... why should I have to be the one that needs to be scared?” Starlight was talking through her fears as, to her, that was the only way she knew to overcome them. She swallowed and went on. “So what if common ponies try to report me? If they try to restrain me?”

The filly walked from side to side before the ledge.

“All of them were too scared to do anything before! And I didn't even need to do anything!” There was a click in her head and a flush of warmth in her heart. “Not only that, but when ponies hear of me, they'll hear how dangerous I am! They'll be as terrified as me as they would be Nightmare Moon!”

Starlight proceeded to hop on all four hooves, in a circle, with every jump, punctuated, by the following verse.

“I'm going to be a villaaain!”

“I'm going to be a villaaain! “

“I'm going to be a VILLAAAIN!”

Starlight stopped hoping before the edge of the forest as she looked out to the world before her. Smiling, her hoof swept back through her mane, as she raised onto two legs. “First, I'll become strong! The strongest anypony has ever been! I'll consume whatever I need to become the greatest!”

Violent winds crashed into the scene, but they did not push the filly back, as she kept firm.

“Forget a crummy home on a hill! Or holding myself back to be liked by ponies THAT I DON'T EVEN LIKE!” Starlight spat at the view itself before leaning back, and crossing her arms. “I won't restrain my powers anymore. I'll use them to make the best, villainous lair that this world will ever know! Then... I'll knock that castle down... and rule this world with my daddy!”

Her forehooves smacked back onto the ground as her head reared to the sky. “AND NOTHING WILL GET IN MY WAY!”

And then there was rustling in the tall bushes. Starlight hopped and flipped at once, her heart, racing, as her horn was already charged. Glaring at the bush, the rustling came closer, though there were no sounds of footsteps.

Starlight, without breaking her stare, used a hoof to wipe the sweat from her face.

Have those guards already caught up? Or is it some animal? Whoever or whatever... I'll consume whatever it is...

Something fell from the bush when Starlight went to fire, and she would have, if the body hadn't fallen onto the dirt. Starlight peered quizzically at the creature, coming to glance around, expecting a scam.

The magic around her horn thinned as it zipped outward before flushing back inward. It was millions of dots that stuck themselves to anything breathing entity. There was nothing close to them. Starlight loosened a bit as her focus returned to the fallen.

There was nothing to be said at first. Only for her to step a bit closer, on the tip of her hooves, with a face raising higher from every step. Her lips pushed outward and upward in suspicion. Coming close to the thing, she reached out a hoof, slowly, and then quickly tapped its back.

It was cold, smooth, and hard.

Starlight bounced back at hearing a groan from the thing. Her head cocked at seeing the mass of purple twitch, its scales, flexing easily with the movement. Patches of them were missing—revealing blood and ripe flesh beneath.

A juicy kind of pink that reminded Starlight that she had missed lunch.

“You're... near death, aren't you?” Starlight said as she lowered her shoulders and rose, starting to leave her guard. “What are you, anyway? Some kind of lizard?”

Its head rubbed against the ground to the sound of rolling pebbles. Its face twitched from the ground, enough for a closed eye raised from the dirt. It clenched at first, its eyelids struggling to relax. Slowly, and barely, its eye opened to her.

To the reveal of the most brilliant shade of green.

“D-Dragon.”

“A... dragon? But you're... your kind... you...” Starlight swallowed a million questions down her throat, all to make space for the ones that counted. She ended up rolling a foreleg in the air. “How... how did you get here? Your kind doesn't usually dare this close.”

The dragon laid there on his stomach, with a face buried in filth, an eye barely lifted from it. His focus wasn't on her—or anything at all. His stare was blank and set on nothing. It didn't even seem like he was breathing. Perhaps he had already died?

But then, the corpse wiggled, enough to free the arm pinned underneath himself. Slipping it free, he laid his claw on the grass in front of him, shakily raising a digit to point above. Starlight glanced up to see a dense ceiling of the woods but, in lighting her horn, engulfed the area in a sea of her magic.

In a second and in a crunch, the magic ate at its existence itself, leaving a perfect hole above. Starlight looked through the opening to the sky where, overhead, a lane of dragons flew where there were clouds.

“The dragon migration!” Starlight uttered as though it were obvious, hating that, despite surviving a traumatic experience only moments ago, that she was already berating herself for being stupid. “So... what happened then? Did you get lost? Where are your parents?”

The dragon drew in a long inhale, a wheeze that was barely swallowed, before he spoke again. “Dead.”

“Oh no! Did something happen or—“

“N-No.” Something unexpected happened. The dragon started to push on his claw, slowly lifting the rest of his body. It barely leaned off the ground, but he kept at it, enough to flip onto his back. Lying like that, he gasped for another breath. “They died a long time ago. They were weak. That's what all the other dragons told me.”

“O-Oh.” Starlight looked aside in awkwardness as confusion settled in. Wasn't she supposed to consume this dragon? Inhale his power for fire and acquire the defence of his scales for use in a spell? Why was she suddenly listening to him now? “That must have been rough.”

The dragon barely nodded.

“So...” The filly traced a hoof in the dirt, looking down, sometimes risking a glance at him. “How did you end up here?”

The dragon wheezed a bit more.

Then, with a clench and a groan, he pushed himself up, barely coming to sit. He was panting again by the act. Coming to tuck his knees against his chest, he hugged them, curling into himself. It seemed as though that pressure was to repress a pain in his stomach.

“The other dragons... didn't like me... keeping with them.” His face scrunched in dealing with a sudden blow. Once it had passed, though, he gasped and kept talking on. “I took from their piles. Not a lot. But enough for them to...” He looked down at himself.

Then looked to her as his face leaned on his knees. “They threw me out during the migration. I've been following them, still.” He went to breathe, then wheezed at a sudden blockage. He choked and coughed and started gasping as he spoke. “Towns... treated me like a pest... someone called me a vermin... I... I guess ponies don't like me either.”

The filly came to step before the dragon, the villain standing before the hopeless, the strong before the weak. He seemed to be on the same page as this as he smiled. “I heard... your voice... from... far away!” His claw slapped onto his chest, and tightened, squeezing at the pain beneath his scales. “That you were looking to consume!”

Starlight's jaw lowered a little. “W-Well... it's cause... I... just came out of something... and...”

“It's okay.”

Starlight blinked.

“You can consume me.”

There were a few seconds of silence.

“Consume,” Starlight began as she walked around the dragon. “You know what that means, don't you? That I'll take you. Everything that you are. That I'll swallow it for my own power.” She stopped at his side, looking at the missing gaps in his spines. “You'll be dead. Nothing.”

The dragon nodded. “That's okay.” He then closed his eyes, smiling, and planting his face into his scrunched knees. “I'm already dead.” Seconds passed before he had his last laugh. “And I was nothing before that.”

Starlight stood beside him for the longest time, as the only sound was the wind in the air. She lifted her hoof to her muzzle to look at it. This was the path of a villain, no?

To take.

To consume.

To destroy.

This is everything ponies said you were... and everything you were meant to be.

So then.

Why don't I want to hurt him?

Because some borders, at first, are hard to cross.

Starlight zapped out from her thoughts, panting. Looking over the dragon, she was worried for him, coming closer. She extended a foreleg and, tentatively, laid it on the side of his head. It recoiled at being stabbed.

She pulled her hoof back and turned it to see a lone, pointed scale, sticking out from it. “A spike? Really?” Plucking it out with her teeth, Starlight spat it out to the side, and instead lit her horn. Closing her eyes, blue magic washed off her form.

Soon the blue waves rolled around the dragon, engulfing him, and he did not move. Red mist expanded out into the water, as well as blobs of purple and yellow, and collections of thorns and other such things.

After a few seconds of the standing whirlpool being active, the whole thing lost its form, splashing down and out onto the ground. Filth and bile, blood and sweat, all washed away from the dragon.

He continued sitting there, clean with brighter scales, a richness of green to his spines. His head lifted and, although it struggled due to soreness, he was able to raise it much easier. He then glanced at the filly. “But...”

Starlight turned her head to the side and smiled, a cheeky kind of grin, as she looked down at him. “What? You think any great villain would consume just anything? You were too weak.” She then started to walk forward. “You would have done nothing for me.”

The dragon sat there as he watched the filly leave, amazed, and not saying anything more. Despite being insulted, his legs still rose and, limply, with an initial stumble, he started to walk after her.

Starlight clocked the lurking creature over her shoulder.

When she stopped.

He did the same.

“Just,” Starlight looked back at him from over her shoulder, “what do you think you're doing?”

The dragon shrugged from far behind. “Following you.”

Starlight sighed. “Why are you following me?”

“Because I had no one else to follow.”

Her eyes twitched. “Well, stop following me.”

She then looked forward, took a step, and heard the same from behind. The winds rustled the branches overhead, the ones outside the last cone of destruction. Starlight then huffed while looking ahead. “What did I just say?”

“To stop following you.”

“And what are you doing now?”

“Following you.”

Another groan. “Fine! I can see that telling you won't make you stop.” Then, with a grin raised from horribleness, she flexed herself in place. “Then how about this!” Starlight bolted forward through the woods, running on all fours. “Catch me now!”

She ran and ran as trees blurred on her sides, and bushes appeared and disappeared all around. After a few seconds, she slowed before stopping. Waiting. Wondering if she heard footsteps. With an ear flexed to above, she waited for a sound and came to listen to a thud.

Uh oh.

She waited. Should she go back to check on him? But what kind of villain does that? Starlight turned and took a few steps away, that was, before grunting, and walking back the way she came. The trees and bushes, this time, passed much more slowly at her sides. I'm the worst villain, ever.

But the filly stopped in her tracks at seeing the dragon crawling across them. He'd fallen again, but this time, he threw his claw forward, each into her hoofprint, and dragged himself across them. It removed her trace and covered it with his.

Starlight felt a burning in her chest, which she chose to ignore. Looking away from him this time, she floated an air of annoyance and disinterest. “Are you seriously going to follow me wherever I go?”

The dragon rolled his face from the ground to look up at her. It was the first time anyone—especially a stranger—had done so. Starlight never got to talk with other ponies. She was amazed to be speaking with another that him being a dragon was too far back in her line of interests.

And then he nodded to her question, his claws, pushing on the ground, as he started to stand. Dirt rained off him as he wobbled in place, and he stood in her shadow. Starlight pouted in considering this.

“What if I'm a bad filly? And I do something really horrible?”

“I'll still go where you go.”

“What if others start hunting me down?”

“Then I'll run away with you.”

“And if they take me away?”

“I'll come find you.”

“And if they take you away?”

“I'll come find you.”

Starlight's face narrowed. “Why do you want to follow me?”

“Because I have no one else to follow.”

“Will you ever stop following me?”

The dragon laid a talon on his lips, forced to think. “Maybe if I'm dead?”

Starlight looked at him for a long while, and then looked over to the opening of the forest, to the edge that fell off the mountain. She then pointed at it. “Ponies hate me because I'm special. The only pony that ever loved me is being taken away. I suddenly do not want to live anymore.”

The filly turned and, without pause, broke into a sprint, over the ledge and entered a free fall. Seconds later, the dragon took into a lazy jog, following the mare, and stepping over the ledge. He fell as both disappeared from the view.

Then the filly reappeared on the ledge, bent down it, holding out her foreleg and snagging the dragon by the arm. He hung there as the mare strained herself to hold him. Despite this, though, she barked from above. “You jumped! You IDIOT! You're not supposed to jump!”

“But you jumped.”

“To see if you would jump.”

“I'll jump if you jump.”

“Enough with that!”

Starlight thrust the two of them backward, pulling them back over the ledge, as her back was the first to hit the ground. Seconds later, the dragon fell on top of her, coming to snuggle into the softness of her coat. Her face grew in pain before unleashing a scream.

“AAHAHAHH!” She rolled in place. “I THOUGHT I REMOVED YOU OF ALL YOUR SPIKED SCALES!” She then hissed through clenched teeth, controlling her breathing, as the dragon took only a fraction of her chest and stomach. She glared down at him. “That's what you are, you know that? A spike.”

His face lifted from her coat, cute and confused, as he waited for Starlight to clue him in.

She groaned.

“A spike is something that sharpens as it goes along,” Starlight idly explained with a roll of her hoof. “It's end is used to stab or penetrate things. So the closer you get to me, the more you sharpen, until you end up stabbing me, somehow.” Her hoof fell on her face as her head fell back on the ground. Her mane was a messy pool beneath her. “Oh, daddy. I'm not even making sense anymore.”

But the dragon stirred. “So I'm a spike, then?”

Starlight closed her eyes in frustration. “Do you have a name?”

“I don't think so.”

“Then your name is Spike.”

“What's yours?”

“Starlight. Starlight Glimmer.”

“Where are you from?”

“A village.”

“What was it like there?”

“It was terrible.”

“What—“

“No more questions.”

Spike stopped talking.

And then there was peace.

As the breeze rolled in.

With wings flapping above.

Starlight's ears twitched at hearing the chariots pass overhead and, throwing a foreleg over the dragon, started to cast a spell over them. She leaned up, seeing, from the clearing before them, the chariots that entered the view. A couple of them were flying back to the castle on the horizon.

Her horn was glowing blue to hide them but, on seeing the celestial sea, the magic turned red. Suddenly, its essence split, pools of blood, streaking forward, toward the individual carriages. Soon the red blob consumed them, slowing them in the air... before they fell from it completely.

“Stop! Stop it!”

Starlight snapped from her trance by the shuffling on her torso. She looked down to see the dragon rolling off. He landed next to her. “You'll hurt them!”

The filly snickered. “They hurt me.”

“But... but... but maybe they didn't mean to!”

“They tackled my father and were going to go for me next!”

“Maybe they had a reason!”

“The order of the princess, maybe!”

“Then blame her! They were just doing what she had to say, right? So they don't deserve to be hurt like that!”

Starlight growled and bared her teeth. “And what of you! Wouldn't you want to tear off every scale of the dragons that abandoned you?”

“No! I wouldn't!”

“And yet you want to keep around me?”

“I'll do whatever you need! But... but...” Spike was sitting on his knees as the carriages dipped beneath the edge, and his shoulders fell with them. “Is this what you need to do now? When you... when you beat the princess... wouldn't... not doing things like this... make it easier to win over her guard.”

Starlight blinked at that. “Y'know, that's awfully smart for a dragon.”

She then looked forward and, with a sigh, ceased her channelling of red magic. In the next few moments, the chariots soon flew from below, retaking to the sky. The pegasi at their fronts looked around, confused.

And glad to be alive.

“Maybe... you might be worth keeping around after all.” Spike heard the voice from his side, and turned to look up. The filly stood before him, above him, and lorded over him. “What say you, then? You don't have what it takes to be a villain.”

Starlight then lowered a hoof to him, offering it. “But perhaps you'll work out as a sidekick.”

Spike looked at her hoof, then at her face, finding it softer now. The harshness of Starlight's words didn't seem to match her expression. It was far too nice, far too kind, far too excited to have him. That complex pulled him. How she both took an interest in him—and then wanted nothing to do with the dragon.

He took her hoof, and the two shook, starting their partnership.

The image waned as consciousness regained. Dreams were memory's way of making the past into the present once more. It allowed for an experience to be lived again. It whirled one decade to the past, in a different state, a new kind of life—until shocking them back to their true present.

Which, for Starlight, was at her desk, drooling, with something nudging at her shoulder.

“Staaarlight,” the voice whispered, as rich as a cup of coffee. “It's time to wake up now, my little villainess.” There was a groan from her, a refusal to awaken, that drew a chuckle from him. “Making me your alarm clock. How could you be so cruel? A mare is prettiest when she's asleep, and you're beautiful when you snore.”

She limply kicked at him in her dazed state, which really was just a swing of her legs.

“Mmhmm.” Starlight wrestled in place. “I... swear.” Her head lifted from the desk, a page plastered to her cheek. “You'd be better transformed into a rug.”

“If it meant you would step all over me?” The page was gently peeled from her cheek, removing the sheet from her view. “I would gladly turn into a carpet for you.”

“Shut it, jerk.”

Spike stepped back from the desk so he may bow. He'd become taller, older, and far more annoying. Still detached from the world around him—and basing his entire existence on her. He lowered, smiling, so the two would be at eye contact. “As you wish.”

Starlight then looked back to the desk as the dragon stepped away from the scene. She watched him from the corner of her eyes, seeing him walking to the wall of the lair, as he then pulled down his jacket. Then he picked up a sword leaned against the wall, coming to flick it around in his wrist before turning to a dark hallway.

There he goes off training.

Her eyes blinked at looking down at the drafting desk she was seated out. Staged before Starlight were blueprints, one of the various buildings, the kind found in Canterlot. With a shake of her head, she focused on the pages and the plan behind them.

And he'll need to train a little harder if this heist is going to go well.

Twilight will know we're coming.

She just won't know... where.