A World Without Rainbows - Act III: The Grandfather Paradox

by uberPhoenix

Rating: teen
Tags: Main 6, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Trixie, Spike, Adventure, Wonderbolts
Length: 92598

The mane 6 are invaded by a world where Rainbow Dash failed her Rainboom and Nightmare Moon rules.

- Act I - Act II - Act III (You are here)

Applejack has found her farm, but it's hardly the way she remembers it. The Apple family is struggling to get by, managed by a version of Rarity who isn't afraid to get her hooves dirty.

Rarity finds herself in high society with a most unexpected host, a prim and proper version of Applejack. Together, they must track down the only pony that can save Equestria, if she's even still alive.

Twilight Sparkle has set sail to the Aurora to find Celestia, the memories of an ancient tapestry flittering in the back of her mind and a sense of desperate urgency driving her.

A pony will face the ultimate test, a test she is doomed to fail, at great cost.

Act I Here: http://www.fimfiction.net/story/92
Act II Here: http://www.fimfiction.net/story/96

Picture by stellarina. She's a talented artist that doesn't have nearly enough pageviews. Show her some love here: http://stellarina.deviantart.com/

Published 2012-02-04 09:23:40 UTC
Last updated 2014-06-22 04:24:15 UTC

Gilda

Act III: The Grandfather Paradox
Part 1: Gilda

BURAQ ACADEMY FOR PEGASI
YEAR 994 OF CELESTIA'S REIGN
(6 YEARS BEFORE NIGHTMARE MOON)
MOONSIDE

Gilda the griffin flew over the lawn, examining all of the other students, her plate of asparagus casserole held tightly in her beak. What they were doing wasn't really any of her business, she knew. Besides, most of them were just eating in small groups without talking, which was hardly the kind of thing worth spreading rumors about. Yet Gilda watched anyway. She considered it her job to know what was going on around the school, the good and the bad. Especially the bad, which was a lot more fun.

Unfortunately, they were all just eating asparagus. Gilda's stomach turned at the thought, and she wondered if she would have time to hunt before lunch period ended. She would have to be discreet about it, like always, and she couldn't be caught leaving or returning to campus. None of the teachers took the news well when they figured out what she had been doing. And it wasn't something she could ever easily explain to them, either. She wasn't even sure she understood it herself. But she knew what was food and what wasn't, and asparagus wasn't.

Having flown the entire length of the field, she prepared to circle back around and find a good spot to preen when she noticed the pony eating alone. Gilda recognized her from that morning; she was the transfer, the new kid. It wasn't sympathy that made Gilda change her plans, but curiosity. The new kid had transferred halfway through the semester, which had struck Gilda as a bit odd, and worth investigating.

The pony was too busy eating to notice Gilda as the griffin touched down behind her. All of her attention was on her food; she had managed to tune out the world around her. Gilda briefly pondered the best way to frighten the pony but then paused. She wanted to learn about the newcomer, and watching her, undisturbed, was definitely the least bothersome way to do that.

Her rainbow mane stretched down the whole length of her neck, but the hairs themselves were cut short, sticking out like the bristles on a pine cone. She ate her hay sandwich with her head lowered, oblivious to her new surroundings, not even caring to explore her new home. Her stillness, almost like death, unsettled Gilda.

Figuring there was nothing else to learn, Gilda tapped her on the shoulder. Her original plan to startle the pony and make a fearful first impression had been forgotten. When the pegasus turned, however, she nearly dropped her food.

Gilda laughed, and the filly's eyes narrowed in anger. She had a certain spunk, an attitude that Gilda didn't see very often and made her smile. A plan formed.

“I bet you're not that good of a flier,” teased Gilda. Instead of reacting as expected, the rainbow pegasus's attitude vanished as she clenched up, shutting her eyes and turning away. The response caught Gilda completely off guard.

“You okay?” she asked, not sure what to make of the newcomer. The filly, however, had already recovered.

“I'm okay at flying,” she said. “Not the best.”

Gilda smirked. “Well, aren't we modest? How about a race to the bell tower and back? I need to stretch my wings anyway. Bet you can't beat me.”

The thought of competition seemed to bring about a sudden motivation in the filly, who rose out of her chair and set her food down. Gilda made a mental note of exactly what had caused this reaction. She wasn't sure why, but she knew she would want to see it again.

“We'll see about that,” taunted the pony before she took off to the sky.

In the filly's absence, Gilda took the hay sandwich and began chewing on it. It wasn't as good as meat, but it sure beat asparagus. She counted off the seconds until the pony realized she wasn't following.

Eventually, the pony returned. “What's wrong?” she began to tease before she realized what was happening to her lunch.

“This stuff is terrible,” complained Gilda. “Don't you have anything better?” She watched the pony's lip quiver. Was she about to cry? That would certainly make things interesting. But a pity, too. Gilda's high hopes were about to be dashed.

Instead, the griffin felt the filly's hoof strike her face, the blow knocking her to the ground. She groaned, rubbing the spot to soothe it and check to see if she was bleeding.

And then Gilda began to laugh. The new kid had that spunk after all. She continued to laugh for a while, while the new kid stared. “Name's Gilda,” she finally managed to get out between guffaws. “I think we're going to get along just fine.”

BURAQ ACADEMY FOR PEGASI
YEAR 996 OF CELESTIA'S REIGN
(4 YEARS BEFORE NIGHTMARE MOON)
MOONSIDE

“I'm fine,” insisted Gilda for the fifth time as Rainbow Dash slowly brought the damp cloth out of the water. The pegasus wrung it, squeezing out the water, and examined her friend's face, trying to figure out how to best apply it to the numerous cuts.

“I think you've got some gravel in there. We need to get it out.”

“I've been through worse,” Gilda insisted, but she relented. To prove her point, she didn't utter a single complaint as the cloth stung against her skin. The chill of the water made her tense, and the cuts, although small, were many, causing her face to itch. Still, Gilda forced herself to sit quietly while Rainbow Dash cleaned her.

When Dash finished, she felt immensely relieved and began to laugh, casting her smile up at her friend. “You're crazy, you know that?” she said through her giggles, and then her voice dropped. “Why did you do that?” she whispered.

“Because if I didn't, you would have. I saw those looks you were giving him.”

Rainbow Dash glanced over her friend incredulously. “You beat him up so that I couldn't?”

“Well, I figured if I could keep him occupied he'd leave you alone.”

Satisfied with the cleaning job she'd done but not with Gilda's explanations, Rainbow Dash set the cloth down. “You're still crazy,” she murmured, but the humor in her voice was gone.

“What did he say, anyway?” asked Gilda. “I've never seen your feathers get ruffled like that before.”

Dash's eyes instantly fell as the floor became extremely interesting. She was mumbling under her breath, and Gilda could tell she wasn't interested. “Come on,” the griffin teased. “I know everything that happens at this school. If you don't tell me, I can always ask him.”

Rainbow Dash forced herself to return Gilda's gaze. “Don't do this,” she begged. “Don't be a jerk.”

“Hey. Who's the one who just took on a stallion for you?” Gilda raised a talon and felt along her face. “Damn, he could pack a punch.”

“I didn't ask you to do anything, Gilda. And I certainly didn't ask you to beat up Sunburst.” Gilda's interference had actually given Rainbow Dash enough time to rethink her decisions and make her realize the foolishness of her actions. Irritated by Gilda's recklessness, however, she didn't feel like opening up about that. “I don't need your help to get by,” she said instead.

“So we're at the 'I don't need your help' stage now, are we? Must be something pretty serious.”

“And private, thank you.”

Neither spoke. Eventually, Rainbow Dash stood, picking up the bowl and the cloth with her mouth. She gestured toward the door, indicating that she was going to return the supplies to the nurse.

When she finally returned, she appeared to have mellowed out a little bit. “I'm sorry,” she confessed to the awaiting Gilda. “It's just that when I came here, I thought I was leaving a lot of things behind. Things I thought would never find me. But if it could catch up to me here, it could find me anywhere. I don't think I can just keep running from it.”

Gilda was at a loss for words, but she eventually found one. “What?”

“I want to tell you the truth, Gilda. Because you're going to find it out eventually, and I want it to be from me. I trust you, more than I've trusted anypony in a long time. I want to share my secret with you.”

The griffin realized how her intrusive actions must have appeared to Rainbow Dash, and she backed off, feeling weighed down by her guilt. She no longer needed nor wanted to know what could make her friend this despondent. “You don't have to do that,” she stammered, panicking.

“But I want to. It's who I am, really. And I can't be your friend if you don't know me.”

“Does this have anything to do with the reason you don't like to fly?”

Rainbow Dash was stunned into silence. She was surprised Gilda had even noticed.

“Oh, please,” said Gilda. “Don't think I haven't noticed you walk to class whenever you can.”

Rainbow Dash nodded sullenly. Was she really that easy to read? Or was Gilda just a special case? If Gilda could see right through her, read her fears and secrets right off of her face, who else could? Had Sunburst really been told what had happened, or had he just figured things out on his own? Rainbow Dash suddenly felt laid bare for the world to see her for what she really was. A fraud. A forgery.

There was no point in trying to hide the only remaining parts of her history that hadn't already been discovered. Rainbow Dash wagered that the whole school would know everything by Wednesday. “I actually love flying,” she confessed. “That feeling of the wind between your wings, hugging your body tightly. There's nothing like it. It's the best thing there is. Ever. And it's a way to escape, when things get out of hand at home.” She paused, and her demeanor shifted from wistful to pained and condescending. “But that's all it is. An escape. When I fly, I leave the world behind. Go someplace else. And I can't let that happen. Because then I might miss something.”

Gilda waited for Rainbow Dash to continue, but it soon became clear that she wasn't going to. The stillness and silence began to disturb the griffin. And she wracked her brain to figure out what to do. She extended a claw to Dash, who took it, collapsing into her chest, the pegasus's front hooves wrapping around her shoulders and locking her into her friend's embrace.

“I killed somepony,” said Rainbow Dash, trembling.

Gilda had long since recognized that her friend was hiding something. The symptoms were obvious: a sensitivity regarding her personal life and a blanket that was spread over her history, concealing the offending topics but leaving glaring holes in the record. Gilda had spent nights wondering what had happened, but none of her theories had even come close to the truth.

Now, thrown completely out of the realm of her wildest imaginings, all she could manage was a drawn-out “Shiiiit.”

Rainbow pulled away from Gilda's grasp and backed away, terrified. Gilda realized that whatever the proper response was, hers wasn't it.

“It was an accident!” Dash cried. “I didn't mean to, I swear!” Now that the barricade was broken down, the details came out in torrents.

“Her name was Fluttershy.”

BURAQ ACADEMY FOR PEGASI
YEAR 998 OF CELESTIA'S REIGN
(2 YEARS BEFORE NIGHTMARE MOON)
MOONSIDE

Gilda walked with her wings outstretched, carrying a bag atop each one and a third in her mouth. As she approached the door to her shared dormitory, she spun, kicking it open with a hind leg. While the doorknob was available and functional, she figured it would not have made for such an interesting entrance.

“Dash!” she called, surprised that her roommate was not immediately in view.

No response. Gilda began to wonder if she was even home. She had to be; the door was unlocked.

Beginning to worry, Gilda set the bags down on the coffee table by the door. The dorm had two rooms, a living room and an adjacent bedroom. The door to the bedroom was closed. Gilda began to make her way to the next door, calling, “Dash? You there?”

The air was thick with the odor of... alcohol?

“Oh, no,” Gilda muttered under her breath as she rushed to the door and shoved it open. “Oh, no no no...” She found Rainbow Dash lying on her bed, limbs splayed awkwardly in different directions, cradling a square glass bottle in her right forehoof. “What are you doing?” cried Gilda in horror. At first, Rainbow didn't even seem to recognize her roommate's presence; she merely stared at the wall, sighing contentedly.

Gilda lunged for the bottle but found Rainbow Dash's grip to be stronger than she had expected. “Give me that,” she hissed as she attempted to wrest it from the pony's grasp. Dash finally let go, and the sudden release bowled Gilda over. “What is wrong with you?” the griffin nearly shouted as she righted herself.

“Don't see why you like the shtuff,” mumbled Rainbow, her speech slurred. “It'sh awful. Could barely shtomach it.” She glanced down at the hoof that had held the empty bottle. “We're gonna need shome more.” She sputtered a bit as Gilda picked her up by looping arms beneath her shoulders and pinning her against the wall.

“Listen to me, pipsqueak,” she said. “I'm not even supposed to have any of this. I hide it because I could get expelled. And now all it takes is someone to see you drunk off your fat ass and I'll take the rap.”

“I'm not drunk,” protested Rainbow. “I know when to quit.” She stumbled over the last word and required multiple tries to get it right. “It'sh jusht one bottle.” She tried to push herself out of Gilda's grasp. When that failed, she began pounding on Gilda's side, but her blows were far too weak to have any effect.

“Yes. One bottle of vodka. You don't even know the difference, do you?”

Rainbow Dash stuck her tongue out. “I'm not a baby,” she protested. “Shtop making such a big deal out of things; you drink it all the time. So shtop being such a buzzkill.”

Physical attacks were something Gilda could handle. Even calling her ugly or stupid were things she could live with, since they were both probably true. But being called a buzzkill finally reached her. “I'm not a buzzkill,” she said. “Who's the one who taught you the meaning of being cool?”

“Then why are you shuch a jerk all the time?” asked Rainbow Dash, making a face as if she had just swallowed something sour. “My best friend'sh a big bully,” she muttered under her breath.

“I'm not a bully, Rainbow Dash. A bully is someone who hurts others for their own amusement.”

“But you do hurt others! How many times have you told me things about the other shtudents behind their backs?”

“I don't say that to their face!”

“Then what about the time last week when you shoved Brolly into the wall?”

Oh. That. “I didn't expect him to start crying! I wanted him to fight back.”

“Not everyone is like you, Gilda.”

“Besides, dude, he was totally creeping on you. He was totally after you, and not in the cool way.”

Rainbow looked hurt, and she snarled. “And what does it matter to you?” she asked. “It was nice. He was paying attention to me. And now he won't even talk to me because he's shcared you're going to throw him off a balcony or something.”

Gilda paused as she thought about what Rainbow Dash had said. “Is that it?” she asked at last. “Is that your definition of nice? Putting up with other ponies' shit? Not saying what you really think? And I suppose a bully is someone who doesn't slow down? Someone who refuses to act helpless because the ponies around her are weak? If that's how you look at it, Dash, then fine. I'm a bully. You happy now?”

Rainbow Dash didn't respond, and merely looked up at Gilda, unamused.

“Let me tell you something, Rainbow Dash. The whole world isn't sunshine and rainbows. Bad things happen, and you have to be tough to handle it. I'm not going to go all soft so that I don't step on other ponies' fragile little feelings. It's not who I am. It's not good for me, and it's not good for them in the long run. They don't need to be coddled, and they sure as hell don't deserve it. Life dealt me a shit hand as it is, and I'm not going to go all charity on a bunch of losers who don't know how to appreciate life without endless praise. You see, I'm not lucky like the rest of you. I don't get to be happy and innocent. That's why I can drink, and you can't. Because you're not me.”

Silently she added the rest of her tirade. You're better than me.

“Well I wish I was you, then,” said Rainbow Dash, still bitter.

Gilda felt like she had just been hit, and she felt herself getting angrier. “No. You don't. Trust me on that one. You don't know what it's like in the Griffin lands.”

“Because you never tell me!” squealed Rainbow Dash, pouting in a manner that reminded Gilda of a small foal. Then again, what Rainbow said was true. “Let me come with you next time you see your family,” continued the pegasus.

“Hay no. There's a parasprite's chance in a bonfire I'm letting you come. It's too dangerous.”

“And why not?”

An endless list of reasons scrolled through Gilda's head. Where to begin?

“Because some griffins eat ponies,” she told Rainbow Dash. Technically, all griffins ate ponies, or were supposed to, but Gilda decided to put off sharing that distinction. “And you don't know my siblings. You think I'm mean? I'm a saint compared to them. Griffith would eat you if he got hungry enough. Giszell would eat you even if she didn't. And Grimm...” Gilda searched for the best way to describe Grimm. Monster. Savage. Plays with his food. “You're not coming,” she announced firmly.

“Grimm?” Rainbow Dash grinned for the first time in their conversation. “You're brother's name is Grimm? Sounds hokey.”

“Try saying that to his face.”

Rainbow Dash giggled softly, and her laughs quickly escalated into hearty chuckles. She was nearly bursting at the seams laughing when she froze, stared right through Gilda, muttered, “Uh, oh,” and promptly vomited over the both of them.

It was times like this, in the middle of an absurd conversation and covered in vomit, that Gilda remembered why she chose Rainbow Dash to be her friend. Even if the girl had her doubts, she was nice. Innocent. Things Gilda could never hope to be.

She just needed to be tougher. And Gilda would be there to help her with that. They would be loyal to each other until the day they died.

BURAQ ACADEMY FOR PEGASI
YEAR 1000 OF CELESTIA'S REIGN
(2 DAYS AFTER NIGHTMARE MOON)
MOONSIDE

Gilda was sitting out on the balcony, watching the moon, when Rainbow Dash returned carrying a plate of lettuce in her mouth. She set in down on the floor and turned to her friend.

“Still imitating a werewolf?” joked Rainbow Dash, trying to lighten the mood. She tried to laugh, before it occurred to her that even she didn't find the joke that funny. “Okay. That was lame. But seriously, dinner's ready. Come eat.”

Gilda swiveled her head halfway, the rest of her body remaining rigidly immobile, and she examined Rainbow with a single eye. Rainbow groaned softly; she was never able to get used to seeing that. Without any expression, Gilda turned back to the moon.

Not satisfied with the response, Rainbow Dash crossed the room, climbing over their discarded uniforms, towels, and other items that neither of them had any plans of picking up. Keeping a clean living environment wasn't among either of their top priorities at the moment.

“You don't need to keep looking at it,” Rainbow Dash tried again. “I mean, I'm pretty sure it's not going anywhere.”

“It's different,” remarked Gilda quietly.

Rainbow Dash made her way out onto the balcony and sat down next to her friend. Even in the unnatural nighttime, the sky was beautiful. The stars were burning more brightly than Rainbow Dash had ever seen them before, dazzling pinpricks that seemed to change shape when she moved her head just right. Bands of green light danced across the sky, and the distorted sight of the stars though the aurora left Rainbow Dash breathless.

“It's beautiful,” she countered. “I know it's wrong, and it shouldn't look like this, but I don't mind. Maybe it won't be all that bad, Equestria under, what did she call herself?”

“Queen Nightmare. And I wasn't talking about the sky. The moon. It's different.”

Rainbow Dash looked and saw that Gilda was right. In her entire lifetime, the moon was one thing Rainbow could count on to never change. Sure, it went through the phases, but the picture it held, the shadows made by what she learned to be craters, that always stayed the same. Until now.

“The Mare in the Moon is gone,” said Rainbow.

“A Mare? I've always been told it was a rabbit.”

The pegasus had to hold back her giggling. “Really?” she asked teasingly.

“That's what the griffins believe. There's a white rabbit that lives on the moon making food. He taught the first Griffins how to defend themselves.”

“Now I know you're pulling my wings.”

The pair smiled at each other, caught in the moment of the absurd image. For the briefest of moments, Rainbow felt like things were back to normal. Then she remembered where she was, what had happened.

“You really should eat.”

Again, Gilda brushed off the request. “Who do you think she is?” the griffin asked. “She seemed to know what was going on. Like she was waiting for this moment.”

“I don't care who she is,” said Rainbow Dash. “I just don't like how she claimed this place for her own. Like it was always hers. 'It's good to see my school again', she said. Blasphemy. She can't get away with this, can she? I mean, she's just one pony. No henchponies or anything. That's why she needs us.”

“You saw what she did to Doctor Burner. I don't think she needs any of us. We're all expendable to her.”

“Well, she won't want me,” said Rainbow Dash, forcing a chuckle as she did so. “I'm a terrible flier.”

Gilda bared her teeth, and then calmed herself. Rainbow Dash knew she wasn't supposed to say that. “Don't try to talk me up,” the pegasus said quickly. “I know I'm terrible. It's nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Don't say that,” muttered Gilda in a chilling monotone. “You're amazing in the air. I've seen you. You just want to be bad. That's why you still don't have that freaky magic ass tattoo, or whatever you call it.”

“Flying is not my special talent.” hissed Rainbow Dash, self-consciously examining her blank flank. “It has to be something else. I'll find it.” She knew it was unheard of for a pony of her age to still not have a cutie mark, but nothing she ever did seemed to work. Whatever her talent was, it continued to elude her. But she knew there had to be something she was good at. Something that wasn't flying.

“Forget it,” said Gilda. “It doesn't really matter anymore. Whatever plans we may have had, they're gone now. This isn't a school anymore. I give her a week before she turns the whole place into a training ground.”

Rainbow Dash understood. The Buraq Academy was no longer going to provide her with her Weather Engineering degree, and Gilda's job as a grounds-keeper, should she be allowed to keep it, was sure to become decidedly less pleasant. “Where are you going to go?” Dash asked.

“Haven't decided yet. Probably wherever you go. There's no way I'm gonna leave my best gal hanging.”

Rainbow Dash was going to have proposed the same thing. Equestria didn't have many griffins, and Gilda was going to be hard pressed to fit in. The fact the Rainbow could count on her hooves the number of times Gilda had left the Academy since they were fillies in the middle school level didn't help matters much either.

“I'll be there,” Rainbow promised. “To help, no matter what.”

“I'm not scared of the outside world, Rainbow Dash,” groaned Gilda, giving her friend a stern look.

“No. But it's scared of you. I don't know what kind of job you can get.”

“Whatever ponies are willing to pay for. I don't care what I have to do, as long we stick together. I can probably find something. There have got to be ponies out there with bigger concerns than whether the girl they've hired has a beak, even if it's stuff that normal ponies won't do.”

“You mean stuff that's illegal.”

“If that's what it takes,” responded Gilda flatly.

“It won't,” said Rainbow, becoming weary from the conversation. “There are other ways to put food on the table.”

“There were. Use your brain, blockhead. Without a sun, food isn't going to grow. Ponies are going to starve. But not you. If we both work together and pool whatever we can get our claws on, there should be enough for you.”

“And what about you?” asked Rainbow Dash, feeling the anger wash over her. “What are you going to do, go hungry?” She once again noticed the lettuce she had brought. “Eat your food, stupid,” she ordered. “I'm not going to bring you food if you won't eat.”

Gilda glanced over the vegetable. She really didn't want to have the conversation now, but there was no way out. “You know I don't eat that.”

“Now is hardly the time to be picky!” Rainbow nearly screamed.

“Now is exactly the time to be picky,” countered Gilda. “I don't need to eat it. You do. I can find other food.”

Hunting. The one aspect of Gilda's life that Dash tried to pretend didn't exist. “That's inhumane,” said Rainbow Dash flatly.

“It's practical. And it's not cruel if the animal's already dead.” There was no way Gilda was going to limit herself to eating carrion; she had no stomach for it, and she knew she wouldn't be able to find enough. The food would have to be eaten fresh. Gilda decided not to mention any of this, however. It would only complicate matters, and Gilda would prefer a little misdirection and implied falsehood to a fight with her only friend any day.

“So what?” said Rainbow Dash, thoroughly disgusted. “That's like eating Doctor Burner. Or what's left of him.”

Gilda was about to harshly respond when she stopped, closed her beak, and thought the claim over. After a great deal of consideration, she began again. “And what,” she said, “would be wrong with that?”

Rainbow, in shock, lost her ability to breathe. “You're kidding me,” she finally managed. “That's sick.”

This level of intolerance was too much for Gilda. “Well forgive me for trying to do my best to save lives by not using up all the food,” she screeched.

Rainbow's gaze had become iced over. She breathed deeply and heavily, and her face was contorted, straining as if it was holding back an explosion. “You know what else would keep you from eating good food?” she asked in a lifeless monotone. Then she abandoned all inhibitions, letting her rage carry her past the boiling point. “If you would just drop dead!” Her energy spent, Rainbow Dash dropped to onto her haunches. “I don't understand you, Gilda,” she muttered. “Maybe it's because I'm not a griffin, because I haven't seen what you have, but nothing you do makes sense. Why are you still here? You've graduated already, so why are you working as a groundskeeper? You hate other ponies being the boss of you, so why in Equestria are you working for them? Isn't that boring? Doesn't that drive you insane?”

Gilda suddenly felt as if she were treading on eggshells. She kneeled down and lifted Rainbow's face so that they were looking into each other's eyes. “You're right,” she said, speaking slowly, the only way to really talk to Rainbow Dash and get the message across. “The world is boring. Dull, mind-numbingly boring, filled with boring folks going about their boring lives. I don't care about it all. Why stay? But why leave, either, when it's all the same old gray, everywhere you go? Don't you get it, numbskull? There's only one reason I stayed here, worked for someone else. I stayed for you, featherbrain. I never cared about others before. They could all just lay down and die for all I cared. Gods, they were dull. And then I met you. And for the first time since I left home, I wanted someone else to succeed. And I wanted to be there to see it.”

Rainbow's gaze was filled with confusion, bordering on the faintest levels of comprehension. “I don't understand,” she said slowly.

“You idiot. You never understand, do you? You're thick. So fascinatingly thick that you can't see what's right in front of you.”

Silence fell as Rainbow tried to make sense of what was happening around her. “Gilda?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry.”

Gilda smirked as she lifted Rainbow Dash up and set her back on her feet. “You ain't got nothing to be sorry for, pal,” she said, chuckling.

“But I do. I told you...” began Rainbow Dash, but she was interrupted when Gilda swept her into a tight hug.

“You don't have to say anything,” cooed Gilda. “Just promise me we won't fight again. We're better than this.”

“Right,” agreed Rainbow Dash quietly. Then she lifted her head, her eyes twinkling with newfound determination. “There's another way, you know. A way we won't have to leave. A way you won't have to do anything rash. Some of us have decided we aren't going to take this lying down. Like I said before, she wouldn't have come here if she didn't need us. If she wasn't dependent on us in some way. Maybe, if enough of us banded together, we could take her. She's only one pony, and we're a school of hundreds.”

Looking up into Gilda's eyes, Rainbow Dash's resolve crumbled as she watched her friend struggle to express herself.

“No,” the griffin managed to utter, and Dash frowned. Was her friend... crying? In all their years of friendship, Gilda had always been the one to pony up, to never back down. Dash had never seen her cry, and she now felt as if she were looking at a different griffin altogether. A griffin that was scared, fragile, and naked for the first time before the world.

“We can do this,” promised Rainbow Dash.

Gilda shook her head. “No, we can't.” She remembered the torn and broken figure of Doctor Bunsen Burner, and despite her attempts to stop herself, she imagined the body with a rainbow mane. “If something happened I don't know what I would do.”

Dash felt her anger start to flare again, and she consciously stopped it, remembering her promise. “What else are you going to do then?” she asked, her voice fluctuating between bitterness and fear. “Run away?”

“Why not?”

Rainbow froze, unable to wrap her mind around Gilda's suggestion. “I don't believe it!” she cried. “The great and fearless Gilda the Griffin is a coward!”

If the conversation hadn't become so serious, the insult would have stung. But Gilda, focused on discouraging Dash, used the words to her advantage.

“Running from an impossible battle isn't cowardice, Rainbow Dash. It's smarts. It's using your brain, which is something you've certainly never done.” She paused, forcing herself to calm down. “There's no harm in running away, Dash. It's a lesson I almost didn't learn. And if I hadn't, I wouldn't be here. Please, Rainbow Dash. I don't want you to die.”

“I know,” said Rainbow Dash, hugging Gilda more tightly. “I don't want to die either. But we can't just sit on our flanks and do nothing.” She squirmed out of Gilda's legs and made her way to the edge of the balcony. “And one thing I think I've learned is this: If we aren't willing to die, then we don't deserve to live.” She flared her wings and prepared to lift off.

“Where are you going?”

Rainbow Dash didn't turn around. “I don't know. But if I stay, you're going to try to change my mind.”

“I will,” said Gilda. “Because this is stupid. I don't want to lose you.”

Rainbow tried her best to maintain her composure. “I'm sorry, then,” she said softly. “I didn't know you were so selfish.” She lifted off the ground slowly, unable to find the energy to move at her normal pace.

“Please,” begged Gilda. “I promise I won't try to change your mind. But I can't let you go like this. This fight, I won't let it be our last conversation. Don't go yet. Just stay the night. For me.”

Rainbow Dash sighed before lowering herself back to the ground. Gilda was right. This wasn't the way to end their relationship. They both knew there was a chance she wouldn't make it out of this alive, and the least Rainbow could do would be to make peace with her friend before she left. She returned to Gilda, who wrapped a wing around her.

“You know I love you,” murmured Dash. “You're my best friend.”

Gilda paused, trying to parse her friend's meaning. “Yeah. I know. Right back at you. Best friends forever, right?”

Rainbow Dash nodded. “Forever.”

“Just one request. Make me proud. Save the world. I expect the sun to be back in the sky by Tuesday.”

BURAQ ACADEMY FOR PEGASI
YEAR 1002 OF CELESTIA'S REIGN
(2 YEARS AFTER NIGHTMARE MOON)
MOONSIDE

Gilda plodded along the wreckage, ducking under the pillars of petrified cloud. The lingering moon shone partially through the material, which scattered the light, producing a hazy image of the other side. She liked to come here often, whenever she was uncertain about what to do. The entire northeast wing of the academy had been completely destroyed by Nightmare Moon's rage and had fallen to the ground in pieces. This particular chunk of the building had been chosen to serve as sort of tombstone, since the erection of any real memorial would have been quickly torn down and those responsible for its creation severely punished.

Instead, one brave pegasus had made sixteen marks into a pillar that stood above the rest. Sixteen. That was the number of pegasi that hadn't turned and run at the first sign of danger. That was of number of pegasi truly loyal to the school.

Gilda stopped in front of the pillar with the notches.

“Hello, Rainbow Dash,” she said, as if her friend were right next to her. For some reason, when she came here, she felt as if her friend could hear her. “I know you probably aren't too happy with what I've done with my life. In fact, I know you aren't. You never would have stooped this low. And I think a part of you rubbed off on me. I can sense your disapproval every time I agree to a new job.” She removed the folder she had been carrying under her wing and opened it, revealing a close-up photograph of a violet unicorn.

“I need to stop coming here. It's not good for me. I need to get over you and move on. But I can't. I got another job the other day. I don't even know who it's really from. Some pony powerful enough to hide his tracks, that's for sure. I'm supposed to kill a unicorn named Twilight Sparkle. She's a scientist, sort of. I'm supposed to steal something from her lab. Don't know why, but it's not my job to ask questions.”

Gilda sat down and watched the clouds rolling by in the distance. She didn't know how much time passed. The moon never moved.

“I know you thought that some ponies would just rise up and take Equestria back. You were always the optimistic one. But it's not going to happen. I hoped, for two years. I believed in your dream because you can’t anymore. But I give up. She's won. There's nothing we can do.

“That's sort of why I came. I hope you're not to mad at me. I just wanted to let you know that I tried. I held out as long as I could. I dreamed like you did. But now it's time for me to wake up. You won't see me again.” She shook her head. “You haven't been seeing me at all. You're dead, Rainbow Dash. Nightmare Moon killed you because you stood up to her. And it's time I accepted that. Goodbye, Rainbow Dash. I don't think I'll be coming back here.”

Part of Gilda secretly hoped that Rainbow Dash was one of the deserters. But the griffin hadn't seen the pegasus in two years now. Besides, after the display of confidence Rainbow Dash had displayed during their final night together, Gilda knew that Rainbow was one of those sixteen.

If there was one part of Rainbow Dash Gilda could trust to never fade, it was her loyalty.

Premonition

If Rarity had any energy left in her, and had the situation been less dire, she would have been humiliated. As it was, however, she was far too focused on survival to care much about appearances. She could feel the rivulets of sweat that had run down her face the day before, only to freeze in the cold night. With the new morning, or whatever accounted for a morning in a land without a sun, they had begun to thaw, leaving a lingering chill as they did so, contrasting sharply with the new lines of sweat already beginning to form. How the temperature changed so drastically with no sun to heat the mountainside, Rarity couldn't even begin to figure out. Perhaps the temperature constantly hung around freezing, dipping above or below, depending on the whims of fate. She saw the Ponyville Light in the distance, hovering above the small town. She wished it would come closer, so that she may feel its warmth. Did the Light even have warmth? Moonlight herself had confessed that she didn't have the first clue what the light was. No other towns had them.

The most embarrassing part of Rarity's predicament was that she wasn't technically trapped. No stone was keeping her pinned in place. Her movement was only mildly impeded, at least as far as physical barriers went. Maybe if she tried again...

The unicorn took a tentative step forward, and her stomach lurched as if she had launched herself off a cliff. While it wasn't painful, it rose and fell with the pain from the burning streaks in her back, where the metal wings connected to her body. Part of the left wing had snapped and was barely hanging on to the base, dragging into the earth whenever she strained against it. She wished it would just detach entirely so she would be free to move, but as it was, the pain involved with trying to move it even an inch kept her rooted where she was.

Downright pathetic, thought Rarity as she waited for the tumult in her stomach to settle. Her chest lurched forward, and she heaved, but nothing came. The scant amount of food in her stomach had already made its way out of her body. The smell of the vomit was horrendous, and she was beginning to feel light headed. Dehydration, perhaps? But there wasn't a good source of water around.

She was going to die. There was no denying it now. Even if her friends were looking for her, the mountain range was large, and she had been moving quickly when the wings broke.

Her wings were broken. She recalled her collision with Rainbow Dash and the terrible sound it had made as metal rent against metal and flesh. Rainbow Dash had to have been seriously injured by that. But, then again, if there was one thing Rainbow Dash had earned a reputation for, it was surviving brutal accidents that nopony had any business surviving, and emerging with barely a scratch. It was almost magical, that girl's ability to take a beating.

Still, Rarity knew her friends needed her. Gilda was still out there, and for all Rarity knew, the griffin had already eliminated both Twilight and Rainbow Dash. If her friends were still alive, they were in desperate need of help. Yet Rarity could do nothing but strain against the wing that was weighing her down, each attempt to move lighting a fire in the two parallel strips down her back. The situation was hopeless.

She caught movement in the corner of her eye. Looking up, she saw a pegasus darting about. Rainbow Dash? No, it had the build of a stallion, and his coat was a dull orange. She had no idea what he was doing here, but he was her only chance of rescue. She shouted as loudly as she could, hoping to catch his attention. He seemed to notice, his head turning to locate the source of the sound, and Rarity swore he looked right at her. But a moment later he turned and darted away. She tried to call after him, but even if he wasn't initially out of earshot, there was no way he would have been able to hear her.

Rarity grunted in resignation. This was perfect. She was trapped in the mountains by a pair of broken wings that had done little but cause her crippling pain. Putting them on really had been a mistake. She should have listened to Moonlight's warnings. Out of all the ways to go, this was really one of the worst, and it was all her own fault.

She saw that the pegasus had returned. Fat lot of good it would do her. Except he looked different this time. When Rarity squinted, she could have sworn the stallion wasn't just one color, but rather... Rainbow Dash?

The orange stallion followed quickly behind, and the two landed in front of Rarity. “Is this her?” she heard the stallion ask.

“Does it matter? You should have helped her when you first saw her, instead of coming to me.”

“I'm sorry, Miss Dash. But Madame Orange placed us under your direction.”

Rainbow Dash huffed in irritation. “New orders then. I order you to help any pony you see that needs it. Can you do that?” Not waiting for an answer, Rainbow Dash stepped directly in front of Rarity and touched noses. “Thank goodness,” she said, smiling. “We were all so worried. Let's get you home.” Then she wrinkled her nose. “What's that smell?” She looked down and realized what she was standing in, a look of horror spreading across her.

Rarity, flooded with relief, let her consciousness drift away.

When she awoke, she was in a bed larger than she would have imagined was possible. She was enveloped on all sides by thick sheets that felt as smooth as satin, but were heavy enough to press down on her comfortably and make her feel almost weightless.

Her back still hurt, but the pain was much less severe. The wings were gone, but the hard metal ridges where the metal had bound to her remained. Her headache was completely gone, and Rarity felt astoundingly refreshed.

The room she was in stretched nearly out of sight, with a single large window covering an entire wall, looking out at an industrial skyline. The sky above the buildings was a pure blue, without a single star. Light pollution, Rarity recalled. Lights from the ground would drown out the stars, making them invisible. She had heard of the phenomenon, but having spent most of her life in Ponyville, she had never really had a chance to witness it firsthand.

One thing was clear. She was no longer in the Swayback Mountains, but she wasn't in Ponyville either. Hoofington, perhaps?

Her eyes lowered to the stand erected next to the bed, from which multiple small bags filled with liquid hung, small tubes connecting them to her front leg. So that was how she felt rehydrated. Now that she was aware of the IV, she could feel the point where the tube entered her body, and the sensation threatened to make her stomach turn again. She felt around the area with her magic until she had a pretty good idea where the needle was, and she forcefully removed it in a single tug. No longer physically attached to her surroundings, she felt a lot freer.

Next was the matter of moving. As pleasant as the notion of lying around in bed was, especially after her ordeal, she knew she had to get a firm grasp on her situation. And a shower. She definitely needed to take a shower. She threw off the covers, and while the movement made her nauseous, the feeling was manageable. She pulled herself slowly to the side of the bed and slipped slowly and deliberately over the edge.

Either the bed was higher up than she had expected, or her legs weren't quite as strong as she remembered, because they buckled as soon as she touched down, and she collapsed to the floor. The bed suddenly seemed like a much better prospect.

She picked herself up and managed to stumble over to the door. It opened easily, but she almost fell over when it did, not realizing how much weight she was putting on it. Past the door was a hallway lined with more doors, all painted the same pure white color.

How in Equestria did she get here from the mountains?

She made her way down the hallway, and near the end she started to pick up another voice. It was definitely a mare speaking, but she was too muffled and far away to make out clearly. Still, the voice sounded familiar. While trying to place the sound, Rarity turned a corner and came to the top of a flight of stairs. As she carefully descended them, the words began to become distinct.

“I suppose that the lesson to be learned here is that when a pony is in need of something, she would do best to handle things on her own, instead of relying on others. As such, after carefully reviewing the offers, I'm afraid that I no longer have use for any services you could feasibly provide for me. New opportunities have since presented themselves that would allow me a much increased level of control and finesse, and the only sensible solution would be to take them. Opportunity, as the popular expression goes, only knocks once.”

The mare finished talking, but Rarity still couldn't place the voice. She knew she had heard it before, but there was something off about it. It seemed out of place. She reached the bottom of the stairs and came to a door. She pushed it open in time to watch Applejack sign a slip of paper held up by a young colt in a telegramming uniform.

Was that Applejack? At first glance, it certainly looked like her. Her coat and mane were the same color, although they were both styled differently. Her coat was cut much shorter than Rarity had ever seen it before, and the hair on her head, instead of the usual ponytail, was up in a beehive. She had exchanged her hat for earrings and a red fringed dress that covered her cutie mark. But her eyes still gave her away. Rarity knew those eyes, wide and honest but clearly showing the determination of a street-smart mare.

As the telegram deliverycolt departed, Applejack turned around, and jumped as she noticed that Rarity was up and about.

“Gracious, honey.” she spoke. “You really should not be on your feet. You've taken quite the tumble, and we don't want to irritate the implants. Twilight told me what happened. You must have quite the gall, to make such a sacrifice for your friends. And to already be back among the world of the able-bodied, you are without a doubt the most tenacious mare I have ever met.”

Rarity stood slack-jawed throughout the entire speech. This couldn't be Applejack. She had never been this florid; she had always been a pony who said what she meant and not a word more. “What was that about?” she asked, gesturing to where the telegram deliverycolt had left.

The mare sighed. “A significant delay,” she answered. “Missing parts. Really, do you have any idea how difficult it is to find thermite this time of year?” She huffed.

“I strongly advise you to go back to bed, but you know your body better than I do. If you're going to stay awake, would it at least behoove you to sit down? I've got some tea I was about to prepare.” The mare that was possibly Applejack gestured to a round table ringed with plush chairs. Rarity nodded, beginning to feel fatigued from her brief journey down the stairs. Perhaps she did need more rest. The other mare grinned at her and trotted off, presumable to make the tea.

The table was by a window, so Rairty took a moment before she sat down to look outside. She hadn't noticed from the window in her bedroom, but she was dozens of stories off the ground. A smattering of smaller buildings trailed off in the distance, ending at a coastline with a statue anypony would recognize: the famous Lady Harmony.

The mare returned, the door swinging shut with a clamor and awakening Rarity from her investigation. She was carrying a tray of tea in her mouth, and she set it down on the table.

“You like the view?” she asked.

Rarity nodded. “I'm in New Yoke City,” she breathed.

The mare sat down and gestured for Rarity to take the seat next to her. “Please,” she said. “Relax. It's not every day I have company from another universe.”

Rarity sat and levitated a cup, trying to make sense of the strange mare that reminded her so strongly of her friend. “How did you know...” she began, but she didn't finish, unable to come to terms with the events of the past day.

“That you're not from this world? Your friend Twilight has already explained everything to me. I imagine that you have a lot of questions, while I only have one. So let's get that out of the way, and then I'll do my best to put you at ease.” She readjusted her position in her seat, trying to look as relaxed as possible. “So, tell me, what's she like?”

Rarity looked up from her drink. “Who?”

“The other me. I've met the other you before, and I'm curious. What am I like over there?”

“Oh.” Rarity tried her best not to choke on the tea. “You're Applejack.”

The mare's face puckered and her eyes narrowed, and Rarity was worried she'd said something wrong. “So you keep reminding me,” the mare said at last, bitterly.

“You don't go by that name anymore?” asked Rarity, unsure what to make of her aversion to the name.

“Names are like cutie marks. You need one that suits you. Like yours does. A Rarity indeed.” Rarity felt her face flush at the compliment, but the mare formerly known as Applejack continued without giving her a chance to respond. “I used to be Applejack. But I'm not anymore. And calling me by my old name just wouldn't be right, because it's not who I am. It's not something I control. Surely you understand.”

“Of course,” Rarity mumbled. She found that she could no longer look into her eyes without feeling intimidated. Where just seconds ago she had seen familiarity, now she saw the eyes of a complete stranger. “What should I call you, then?”

“Madame Orange,” the mare introduced herself. “A pleasure to finally meet you. Now, I asked you about my counterpart. I'm curious to know what I've been up to in the past ten years.”

“Wait,” interrupted Rarity, trying to piece the puzzle together. “Twilight was here. My Twilight. And she told you everything. The rest of the gang was probably with her. So why didn't you ask Applejack herself what she's like?”

Madame Orange looked down, the universal signal for trying to mask a heavy truth. “We don't know,” she finally answered. After I picked your friends up in the mountains, I sent out some of my servants to help Rainbow Dash look for the two of you. They tracked you down quickly enough, but they're still trying to find her. It's funny, like something is trying to keep us apart.” Her voice dropped. “I really want to meet her,” she confessed.

Rarity thought, trying to figure out how to best condense the idea of Applejack the farmpony into a concise description. “She's nice,” she finally said.

Madame Orange raised an eyebrow. “Is that all?” she asked. “I hope she's more than nice. A lot of ponies are nice.”

Rarity, irked by Orange's aloofness, decided to strike back. “She's very hard headed individual. She lets emotions get the best of her, and then she can't think straight. Gets up on her high horse and doesn't come down. I think you'd already be familiar with her, being the same pony and all.”

The earth pony widened her eyes, feigning innocence. “Are you calling me obstinate?” Rarity glared, unamused, and Orange cracked a grin. “There's no point in denying it. I wouldn't be where I am today without that fire in my furnace. I've just learned to keep my cool while I do it. You can tell her that, once my boys find her and bring her back here. I take it she still works at the farm?”

Rarity nodded. “She loves it there. She loves her family.” She forced herself to look at Orange. “Do you miss them? Apple Bloom and Big Mac and Granny Smith?”

Madame stood up quickly. “I think that's enough questions about the life I left behind,” she said, stuttering. “I'll do my best to get you up to speed on what's been going on. But first, I think we should let your friends know that you're awake.”

She didn't have to bother, as the pair was disturbed by voices behind them.

“Rarity?”

“Oh my gosh, Rarity!”

Twilight, her Twilight, had entered the room while Rarity was distracted, a collection of scrolls floating above her head, and a single heavy tome. Fluttershy peeked her head out from behind Twilight. Noticing the white unicorn, she bounded forward and embraced Rarity in a hug.

“We were so worried that something really terrible had happened to you. Even when Rainbow Dash said that she found you, we didn't know if you'd been really hurt, and I didn't know what I would do if you'd been hurt because of me, because I should have stopped you from going out there, it was just too dangerous, but you went anyway because you were brave and you wanted to help and I wasn't brave and I didn't help and I should have and I'm so sorry!” Rarity, sympathizing for the poor pegasus, gently pushed her away, and Fluttershy looked up at her friend. “You are... you, right?”

Rarity chuckled. “Yes, Fluttershy, darling. It's me. There's no doppleganger shenanigans going on here.”

Fluttershy sighed, relieved. “That would be embarrassing,” she said quietly.

Rarity turned her attention to Twilight. “It's looks like you've been busy,” she commented.

Twilight grinned, eager to talk about the work she'd done. “Oh, yes!” she commented enthusiastically. “I'm charting a course for the Mooncatcher that will take it through the Aurora so we can talk to Celestia. Fluttershy is being my assistant, since I'm not very good at visualizing the maps. I'm not really the explorer type. But that's why I've got Fluttershy helping me. She's filling in for Spike.”

“Spike?” asked Orange. “You never mentioned a Spike. Who's that?”

“Oh, just my dragon assistant,” answered Twilight nonchalantly.

Orange whistled. “You never mentioned a dragon before. Where is he?”

“He stayed behind to take care of Fluttershy's animals,” Twilight explained.

Fluttershy interjected, “And since he's doing my job right now, I'm doing his.”

Twilight froze, confused. “Do I not have Spike in this version of events?” She thought it over, and then berated herself. Of course she wouldn't. She wouldn't have succeeded in hatching the egg without help from the sonic rainboom. But that meant the egg was still out there somewhere, maybe given to another student to hatch.

Rarity used the silence to take charge. Finally beginning to make sense of her surroundings, she asked about the one remaining pony unaccounted for. “Where's Pinkie Pie?”

“She's with Rainbow Dash,” explained Twilight.

Rarity crinkled her nose in confusion. “In the mountains?”

“Oh, no, honey,” Madame Orange corrected quickly. “We forced her to take a break from the search for my counterpart. She was refusing to rest, and we were worried she was going to wear herself out.”

“But she's not taking it easily,” added Fluttershy. “She's really worried and still not sleeping. So Pinkie Pie's spending time with her to cheer her up. I think we could all use some cheering up, though.”

Twilight nodded in affirmation. “Madame's guards are still out there doing their best. There's really not a lot else we can do but wait and make sure we're well prepared for the journey ahead of us.”

“Consider this a reprieve,” said Orange. “A breather. As soon as Applejack is found and brought back to health, we're going to be moving again. We're going to find the Elements of Harmony and kick the Nightmare Queen's flank back to the moon.”

Some days, Soarin just didn't feel like getting out of bed. More recently, those some days had become nearly all of his days. There wasn't much that could beat the feeling of the warm plush clouds enveloping him. The rest of the world didn't matter. While he wouldn't go far as to say the world was fine without him, removing himself from it or putting himself back in never seemed to make it any better or any worse.

The world was gray. At least he could still dream in color.

He felt a rough prod in his side, softened slightly by the thick layer of cloud between him and his attacker. He shifted away from it, hoping it would go away.

“Get up,” a feminine voice commanded.

Soarin ignored it. He got another poke for his efforts.

“I mean it. Get up, Soarin. I don't have time for this. Don't make me angry.”

The stallion and former Wonderbolt cringed. She still hadn't figured out that threatening him with anger wasn't going to accomplish anything. If anything, it would encourage him. He loved it when Spitfire got angry. It was a tiny remnant of the old days, back when his friend was feisty and lived up to her name. Now she spent most of her time moping around. She almost wasn't even the same mare. And so Soarin would take any chance he got to make her emotive, even if that emotion was frustration.

“I'll get up in the morning,” he muttered, well aware of the blasphemy in his wording.

A pause. For a moment, Soarin dared to believe he'd won. Then a sharply delivered kick knocked him out of the cloud and onto the wooden floor. He hated the floor. While he was in bed, he could pretend he back home in Withering Heights. But the wooden floor was an Earth Pony invention, and it was all it took to remind him of the new life he'd been dragged into.

He looked up to find an angry Spitfire was glaring down at him, dressed in her Shadowbolt uniform. “We've been summoned, Soarin. You don't ignore a summons.”

It was true. Soarin had been warned of the consequences of rebellious behavior, and he wanted nothing to do with it.

“Fine,” he groaned. “I'm up, I'm up.” Maneuvering around Spitfire and avoiding looking her in the eye, he reached his wardrobe and fished about inside for a new uniform. He showed it off to her and pretended to gag. The mare didn't react, clearly unamused. Her expression persisted the unspoken order to hurry the hell up already. That seemed to be her general mentality recently. Work, don't have fun, and don't think. Thinking was too difficult these days.

Soarin disagreed. If Spitfire was going to force him out of bed to serve a hedonistic unicorn overlord, he was going to do his best to enjoy himself regardless. Besides, the outfit deserved his derision. The black and violet clashed horribly, and it reminded Soarin of being deep underwater. He always felt bound when he was wearing it. He wished he could show up in his old Wonderbolts uniform. Just tell the Queen off without speaking a word. But even he wasn't that stupid.

Fortunately, he was still stupid enough to tease Spitfire. He lowered each hoof into the outfit with slow, deliberate movements, swaying his hips and giving his partner a sultry look. “Look what you've done,” he chirped. “Have you no decency, Spit? Forcing a stallion to dress himself while you watch?”

Spitfire huffed. This was one part of Soarin's attempts to raise their spirits that she really could do without. He wouldn't win her over, and they both knew this. Thus, reasoned Soarin, there was nothing wrong, so long as they were all on the same page. Spitfire still found it irritating. “Enough,” she said. “Nopony wants to watch your fat ass. Why do we have to go through this every time?”

Soarin, his uniform in place, checked out his reflection in the window. Outside, the darkened spires of Canterlot rose up from below, their peaks obscured by fog. At least it wasn't windy. Without the weather crew, the winds often became downright lethal.

“I've told you why,” he said, abandoning his respite and nuzzling up against her. “Because I love you.”

Spitfire stiffened. “Soarin,” she warned.

“It's true. And I don't care if you don't love me back. If you can't love me back. Because out of all the terrible things she's done, there's only one that I can't forgive. I don't care that she stole the sun. But I care that she stole your ability to smile.” He grinned and chuckled softly. If she couldn't find a way to smile, his would have to be wide enough for the both of them.

“How do you do that?” Spitfire asked, trying her hardest to seem energetic. “How can you smile at a time like this?”

Soarin shrugged. “If I can't laugh, then what do I have left?” he asked. “Let's go see what Queen Meanie wants with us.”

Rarity shuffled the papers laid out on her desk, scanning through them for the relevant pieces of information. Number of potatoes uprooted in the last week, number of new sprouts planted, finding the difference. If managing the farm had done anything, it had improved the unicorn's abilities to do mental math. She wrote some of the larger numbers onto a piece of scratch paper, performing the necessary calculations.

They were going to need more potatoes. Satisfied with her result, she let the pencil drop from her mouth and onto the desk, and she pushed her hat back with a free hoof. Things weren't looking good. A lot of the seeds that they planted just weren't sprouting. Rarity had believed that the lack of sunlight was surmountable if the soil was rich enough, but now she wasn't as certain. Had something happened to the soil? Or was this just the naturally depletion of the minerals in the soil impeding her work. Maybe it was time to rotate the crops again, or fertilize the fields.

A knock at the door to her study interrupted her. She called for the guest to come in, and the door opened, a small orange pegasus filly making her way over to the desk. Rarity turned the chair to address her.

“Yes, Scootaloo?”

Scootaloo had been taken in by the Apple family after both of her parents perished in a flood caused by the unpredictable weather. She lived in the tree house with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, and the three of them had become the best of friends, perhaps because none of them had their cutie marks yet.

The tiny pony looked up Rarity. She liked to think the two shared a connection, since neither of them were members of the family by birth. “Fluttershy is here,” she said. “And she brought another pony with her. She's hurt real bad, and Big Mac told me to get you. They're in the old barn”

So the reclusive Fluttershy had decided to pay a visit. This didn't happen often; the wingless pegasus didn't usually enjoy the company of other ponies. Yet multiple displays of goodwill by both parties had established respect between them, and Rarity knew she could count on Fluttershy for something important.

She thanked Scootaloo and set off for the old barn, which had recently been renovated into a group of additional bedrooms for the members of the extended family who had moved in to help with the farm. On her way, she wondered about the injured pony. Who could it be, if Big MacIntosh wanted her there, specifically?

She entered the barn, checking the rooms one at a time until she found Big Mac. He and Fluttershy were standing on opposite sides of a bed in which slept an earth pony.

“I thought you would want to see this,” said the stallion as she approached. “I haven't sent for Apple Bloom yet, 'cuz I want to get everything sorted out first. Make sure we're all on the same page.”

Even though they had only met a couple of times, Rarity instantly recognized the pony on the bed. Her mane was styled differently, in a single dirty matted ponytail instead of coiled up on top of her head, and her body seemed more sturdily built than Rarity remembered, but there was no mistaking her.

“Is that really...” began Rarity.

“Ah don't know,” confessed Big MacIntosh. “Her cutie mark's not the same. See for yourself.”

Rarity grasped the sheet in her mouth, blushing at the prospect of removing the covers to look at another pony's hindquarters. She pulled back the cloth and got a good look at the pony's rump, and the three shiny red apples that appeared on it.

“Welcome home, sister,” said Big MacIntosh.

Assignments

Act III, Part 3 - Assignments

For Applejack, the first few days were a blur.

It sounded cliché, but that really was the only way to describe it. The memories, at least the ones she could recall with any sort of clarity, had no starting or ending points, simply fading into one another, occasionally separated by the calm darkness of sleep. Everything was hazy until she tried to focus her eyes, at which point the sudden sharpness of it nearly blinded her. Voices were stretched out and distorted, and she couldn't tell who was speaking to her, other than that the voice was uncannily familiar.

Eventually, she began to feel good enough to make sense of what was going on around her. She was lying in a bed in a barren room. Wherever she was, she wasn't in the mountains anymore. Vaguely she recalled her conversation with this world's Fluttershy. The pegasus had mentioned taking her to Sweet Apple Acres, but this didn't look like the farm to her. The room had no windows, either. She could be anywhere.

Deciding that lying on her back wasn't going to get her any closer to figuring out where she was, Applejack attempted to sit up, and instantly regretted it as her body tensed from a sudden, intense, and nearly universal pain.

Okay, so moving was right out. Suddenly lying on her back didn't seem like such a bad idea. Left alone with her thoughts, Applejack tried to sleep but couldn't. She wasn't calm, and she had far too many questions.

Where were her friends? Was Rarity safe? And Rainbow Dash, of course. But what about the others? Did they find the help they were looking for?

Applejack heard a door open behind her, but she couldn't turn her head to look. She called out to the pony, whoever it was. The pony made her way around the bed, and Applejack's eyes bulged in surprise.

“Rarity?”

Or almost Rarity, at least. Her hair was short enough to be kept out of her eyes without any assistance, and her horn was covered by a hat suspiciously similar to the one Applejack wore. Self-consciously, Applejack realized she couldn't feel the weight of her own hat, and she gingerly raised a hoof to check on it. It wasn't there.

Continuing at her head and moving down, Applejack couldn't help but notice more changes. Rarity's shoulders were broad, and her chest was firm. She wasn't the delicate figure Applejack remembered, and the change made Applejack pause, although she wasn't certain why. Shaking her head and moving on, she saw Rarity's cutie mark, a perfectly polished apple. Her tail was cropped too, and straightened.

The biggest change, which had somehow eluded Applejack until now, struck her at last. Rarity wasn't clean. Her coat was dusty, but it didn't seem to bother her. Her entire appearance all worked to embody practicality, but despite this, she still somehow managed to be beautiful. It wasn't a word that Applejack liked to use, and she never would have admitted it if her own Rarity ever asked her about it, but the truth was the unicorn was beautiful, even in this state. Especially in this state. The fact that Rarity looked like she had been exerting herself all day made her natural gracefulness appear more real, more justified.

“Are you feeling alright?” Rarity asked, a small but noticeable hint of irritation in her voice. Applejack shook herself again as she realized she'd zoned out.

“Yer kidding, right?” Applejack answered. “Ah feel like I've been hit by a train.”

“Fortunately for you, the damage is mostly superficial. Bruises and scrapes. Except for your broken leg, but that was broken before if the cast is a clue. Think you can get up?” Applejack shook her head. “Pity. But I won't push you. You really do look like you've been through Hell.” Rarity went to a dresser in the back of the room, where a tray of food had been set out. “You must be hungry, though.”

Applejack hadn't thought about it, but she was. She hadn't eaten since they'd crossed over to rescue Twilight. How long had that been, she wondered.

“You've been here for a day and a half,” said Rarity, anticipating and answering her question. “I wouldn't be surprised if you're famished.” She placed the tray within Applejack's easy reach, and the earth pony saw how scant it was: half a squash and some hay.

“Don't give that look,” said Rarity, even though Applejack thought she had kept expression neutral. “I think we're really lucky to have this much. There's a lot of ponies out there that have it worse than us.”

Applejack, fearful of offending her caretaker, reached to take a bite of the food, but she paused halfway, confused.

“Ah don't get it,” she confessed. “You can barely feed yourselves, and you want to just give this to me? That's awfully...” Generous. Of course. “Ah'm afraid Ah can't do that to ya.”

Rarity smirked, as if Applejack had just told a punchline before the joke was even told. Then her expression straightened out. “You're not going to eat?”

“Are you kidding me? 'Course I'm gonna eat. I'm just not gonna take it from ya, is all. If you're so insistent on taking care of me, least ah can do is scratch your back in return.”

“Not in your current state, you aren't.”

“True. But I'm made of tough stuff. The moment I'm on my feet again, you can expect to see me out there working those fields with you. I'll earn back everything I take, and then some.”

Rarity beamed. “And I was planning to ask that of you anyway. I look forward to that. Goodness, right now you sound just like our last surprise drop in.”

“Last drop in?” asked Applejack.

“Just a couple days ago, we had the privilege of playing host to one Twilight Sparkle. She looked like she'd been in a terrible fight.” She paused as she made a connection. “A pony of admittedly poor reputation, who's made her home in the same mountain range Fluttershy found you in. You wouldn't happen to know anything about her, would you?”

Applejack bit her lip, not sure which answer Rarity was looking for. Not confident in her ability to lie, she fell back on the truth. “Ah was looking for her. She's my friend, and she's in trouble.”

“She's safe now, I promise you. But it's interesting that you know her. She made it seem like she was on her own. Who are you?”

The earth pony froze. It hadn't occurred to her that she might have to answer this question. Based on what Moonlight had told her of her alternate self, she really wasn't sure she wanted to go around telling the ponies of this world that she was Applejack. Instead, she frantically tried to come up with an alias.

“Trixie.”

She wasn't sure what reaction to expect, but Rarity convulsing in laughter and tears was not one of them.

“I doubt it,” Rarity said when she calmed down. “Trixie, the Great and Powerful?”

Applejack panicked. “What?” she cried, defending herself. “There can't be more than one Trixie?”

“Two years ago, perhaps, but not today. Nopony wants to share a name with someone as infamous as her.”

Applejack's face showed nothing but complete incomprehension. Her jaw hung slack, as if she couldn't remember that it was good manners to pick it up. “Bwuh-huh?” she muttered, not sure what sound she should be making.

Rarity was equally speechless, although she had enough wits to not look stupid. What was it about Twilight Sparkle and the ponies close to her that made them seem so incredibly incompetent, clueless, and danger-prone?

“Is there a problem, miss Trixie?”

Applejack shook her head. “Nah. Forget it.”

“Good. Get some more rest. I have work to do, and I don't want to keep Big Macintosh waiting any longer. He might get jealous.” Her voice had a self-assured mirth to it, the kind of voice that Applejack often associated with skipping or winning a game of chess. And as Rarity sauntered out of the room, the hint of a grin on her face and that faintest bit of a spring in her step, Applejack could only stutter as she tried to make sense of Rarity's last sentence.

“Wait, what?”

Rarity found Big Macintosh waiting at the entrance to the barn.

“Well?” he asked her as she approached. He didn't need to clarify, so he didn't. The stallion had always been one for brevity, and Rarity had found that succinctness, which was effectively verbal efficiency, quite charming.

“It's not her,” she concluded. “I don't see how it can be.”

Big Macintosh looked crestfallen. She tried to sympathize, but it was difficult. He saw something in Applejack, something Rarity couldn't. She had promised Macintosh she'd try, and Celestia knew she'd tried, but she had only become more and more convinced that whatever goodness he had seen was an illusion, wishful thinking.

“She isn't coming back, Big Mac,” she murmured, wrapping the larger stallion into a hug.

“Eenope? But...”

“That mare isn't her. I would recognize her attitude anywhere.”

“Then who is she?”

“I don't know. There's something funny going on here, and I intend to figure out what. But I don't think she's a threat. And she needs our help.” They embraced tighter. “Besides. Whatever happens, you may not have your sister, but you still got me. I'm yours.” She craned her neck upward and kissed Big Mac. “I won't leave you. I'm not going to abandon my fiancé.”

She still had a long day ahead of her. She broke away from her future husband and trotted back toward the house, preparing to help Pinkamena weed the fields and fend off Pumpkin's questions about whether Twilight would come to the wedding. The foal had taken quite a shining to their former guest. Maybe she would like their new one too.

First Twilight. And now “Trixie”. This wasn't the Great and Powerful Trixie, heavens no. But weren't there rumors that the two were related? And this “Trixie” and Twilight had a connection, Rarity was sure of it. They had both turned up out of the blue, grievously injured. They both seemed very confused about their surroundings. They both lacked common knowledge that anyone who hadn't been living under a rock for the past two years should know.

And they both recognized her, even though she had never seen either of them before.

What if...

Rarity laughed and dismissed the idea immediately. It was too silly to contemplate. But still, it was fun to imagine.

What if the mare in the bed was Applejack, but a different Applejack? One that knew a different Rarity?

Yeah, right.

“Are you sure it was her? This is a hell of a detour to make.”

Rainbow Dash slowed down to allow the pegasus guard to catch up to her again. In her anxiousness to track down Applejack, she kept forgetting that he couldn't fly as fast as she could. But each time she let him overtake her, she felt as if she was straining. He was holding her back. She wanted to fly, needed to fly, as quickly as she could. Anything less than that was as bad as sitting on her flank and doing nothing.

The spire of the Ponyville Town Hall was taking shape in the distance. For two days, Orange's guard had been searching for Applejack while Rainbow Dash had been forced to rest. Not that spending the day chatting and playing games with Pinkie Pie wasn't pleasant. If anything, it almost made things seem normal. But it was hardly saving the world. Rainbow Dash had signed up for adventure and delivering a fierce butt-kicking to anypony that stood in her way. Her entire body itched for action, and her concern for Applejack was always in the back of her mind. She wanted to be out there, helping.

When the guards returned and claimed they had spotted her, she had declared that she was going back with them. After all, Applejack would want to see a friendly face, and not some stone-faced stallion stranger. Finally, things felt like they were moving again. But they still weren't moving quickly enough.

Figuring the guard knew where he was going, Rainbow Dash let herself speed ahead, clearing the remaining distance to Sweet Apple Acres.

The farm wasn't at all how she remembered it. The whole place just seemed... dilapidated. Walls were worn and in need of repair, and the corn fields didn't appear to be doing that much better. Half a dozen ponies were working in the fields, pulling the stalks that had grown anything edible, and they looked up at her as she sped past. Her arrival wasn't exactly subtle. She spotted the Cutie Mark Crusaders as they ran down the dirt path toward town, carrying with them three large croquet mallets.

Even across universes, some things didn't change. But what had changed had not changed for the better.

She spotted Applejack sitting in a pumpkin patch, examining one of the large fruits. The pegasus touched down lightly behind her friend.

“You want some help with that?”

Applejack jerked upward and spun around, forgetting about her injured hoof. As she struck the ground with her cast she winced and nearly fell over. “Rainbow!” she cried. “Sure! I mean, hello! Nice to meet ya! I'm Trixie!” she extended a nervous hoof. Rainbow Dash just stared.

“Are you okay? You didn't take a blow to the head recently, did you?”

“I'm fine!” Applejack stammered quickly. “And don't you worry none about a stranger like me. 'Cause ya got no reason to be attached to me and we never met before. My name's Trixie.” She continued to hold her hoof out in the hopes that Rainbow Dash would shake it.

“So you said already. Look, Applejack, is there a reason you're pretending not to know me? And pretending to be a jerk? And actually kind of being a jerk?”

Applejack sighed, relieved, and lowered her hoof. “Sorry, Rainbow. But Ah thought that maybe ya might be, you know, the other Rainbow.”

“I might not have another me,” muttered Rainbow Dash before she realized what she was saying. “I think she might be dead.”

Applejack worked her jaw a couple times trying to come up with a suitable response. “Oh.” And then she returned to inspecting the crop. Rainbow Dash pawed at the ground awkwardly.

“What are you doing, anyway?” the pegasus asked at last. She saw the guard pony pass by overhead, and she hoped he had enough common sense to leave them alone. Rainbow Dash wasn't quite ready to introduce the whole living-with-your-alternate-self angle just yet.

Applejack looked up and smiled. “Checkin' these pumpkins for rot. Rarity says ah'm not fit for bucking in my condition. Ah can do it fine, but shoot, it ain't worth the trouble arguin', after everything she's done so far. So here I am.”

“Rarity works here too? Really?”

“She's getting hitched with Big Mac, no less.”

Rainbow Dash tried to imagine Rarity working on a farm. “Does she have to put on a hazmat suit before can enter the barn?” She asked, amused. “Does she wheel everywhere on Apple Bloom's scooter so she won't get her hooves dirty?” She started laughing at her jokes, not noticing that Applejack wasn't smiling.

“Well ain't that pretty inconsiderate o' you,” she said, and Rainbow stopped laughing. “She ain't shallow, Rainbow, not like that. Rarity works hard, especially on this side of things. There ain't a thing wrong with wanting to be presentable, 'specially when you can still put your priorities in order and come through when others need ya to.”

“Woah,” cried Rainbow Dash, raising her hooves in an exaggerated motion of surprise. “Back up. Since when have you been one to stick up for Rarity? I thought she was always Miss Frou-frou?”

“Hold on there, pardner,” panicked Applejack. “I'm talking about this Rarity. They're two different ponies, far as I'm concerned.”

“Sure,” laughed Rainbow Dash. “I'll be sure to let our Rarity know that you think so highly of her.” She leaned forward and winked maliciously. “You aren't jealous of Big Macintosh, are you?”

Applejack stopped breathing, from either horror or embarrassment. Dash couldn't tell, and so she pressed onward. “Pack up, cowgirl, because you're coming back with us.”

“I ain't goin',” said Applejack, and she turned away rudely to look at the next pumpkin on the vine, trying to hide the look of embarrassment on her face.

Rainbow worried that she had gone too far. “Look, I'm sorry if I said something. But the rest of us are staying up in Manehattan, with the other you. We're planning to free this world, and we can't do it without you. So please.”

“It's not that,” interjected Applejack. “I'm not leaving because ah owe it to the ponies here. They're not just my family; they saved a pony they thought was a stranger. They can barely get by on their own, and they helped me. And I'll be damned if I can't repay their kindness and generosity.”

“Oh.” Now Rainbow Dash felt like a fool for trying to bring Applejack back to a land of high-rises and plush bedrooms. “That's... admirable.”

“Besides,” continued Applejack, “you want to heal this world, and so do I. And I can't think of a better place to do it than here.”

“Huh?”

“I've been thinking a lot. There's not much to do when you're bedridden. Ah don't know if the Elements over here will work for us. Maybe they will, because they chose us before, and they'll choose us again, and not our counterparts, 'cause they aren't the same, personality-wise. Or maybe they won't, because we don't belong here. Maybe they'll only work for the other versions of us. Or maybe it's a whole new clean slate, and we just need to find six new ponies from this world that can embody the virtues. But none of that changes the fact that the other Rarity and Pinkie Pie live here. And they know Fluttershy. Even if they can't wield the Elements themselves, they can help us. And they deserve to know what's going on, considering that there's copies of them running around wreaking havoc. I've been talking a bit about it with Rarity. Turns out when you're stuck in bed, the two things you do best are talk and listen, and Rarity was kind enough to keep me company when she could manage it. We're not too far away from the old castle. Rarity said if there's something there that can bring the sun back, she'd be all for it.”

Out of everything in Applejack's monologue, Rainbow Dash kept fixating on the same point. “You told the other Rarity about the Elements of Harmony?”

Applejack looked confused. “Why not? You told the other me, I'm gathering.”

“Because the other Twilight trusts her. Announcing you want to overthrow a tyrant to every pony you meet isn't exactly a good health strategy, Applejack. For all you know, she could be a sympathizer for Nightmare Moon, or a spy!”

“She's not!”

“You don't know that. For all you know, she could be chatting her up right now. 'Hey, Nightmare Moon! You know what's better than ruling one Equestria? Ruling two!'”

“I didn't tell her where ah was from!” countered Applejack. “Ah don't even think she would believe me if I did. Just that Twilight and I are tryin' to make things right in this world, and we can't do it alone. Rarity's willin' to help us, even, and ah think we need it. We can't do it alone, Rainbow Dash. Rarity told me that Nightmare Moon has a small army. We're going to need all the help we can get. So ah'm sorry, Rainbow. I really am. But the reunion with the others will have to wait, because ah've got a lot of work to do.”

On the other side of the pumpkin patch, a gray stallion watched as the rainbow maned pegasus returned to the skies to meet with her armed companion.

Something strange was going on, this much was obvious, and he was being kept out of the loop. Did Big Macintosh know that his guest was receiving strange visitors?

“Daddy?” A filly with a head of bright red hair peered over him, lowering her face upside-down in front of his. “What's going on?”

“None of our business,” Pumpkin Custard told his daughter. In actuality, he planned to make it his business, but Celestia knew the little rascal got into enough trouble on her own. He was going to have to keep her as far away from something potentially dangerous like this. As far as he was concerned, ponies could do whatever they pleased. But as soon as they came anywhere near the farm, it was personal.

Nopony was ever going to harm his family.

Soarin and Spitfire followed behind the pegasus guard that guided them down the hallways of the palace toward the royal chambers. He stopped in front of a pair of large ornate golden doors, and turned, as if to address the guests. Instead he straightened himself and stood rigid, his eyes looking not at Soarin, but past him.

Spitfire blinked in surprise. She never quite got used to that.

Soarin smirked and stepped in front of the guard and stuck his tongue out. He wiggled it from side, checking for a response from the guard, but already knowing he wasn't going to receive one. He slowly leaned in, bringing his tongue closer to the guard's chin. One solid lick, that was all he wanted.

“Soarin!” Spitfire's eyes had narrowed into slits and her scowl was stretched wide across her face, making clear to Soarin that she was on her last straw. “Enough. Let's just get this over with.”

Soarin made a point of performing an over-exaggerated eye roll. He already had one queen of gloom ruling his life, and he wasn't going to accept a second one. Still, he resumed his position and nodded to the guard, who pushed the door open. The pair stepped into the throne room, with the guard following closely behind them.

The room hadn't changed much since the new leadership had taken over. It was heavily adorned with gold and marble, although the eternal night prevented its true beauty from shining through. The biggest difference was that the stained glass windows had been smashed, and a strong breeze was blowing in through the gaps, ruffling Soarin's coat.

A throne was mounted on a platform at the far end of the room, although it was unoccupied. The mare beside the throne, however, hissed angrily from her perch as she saw the three approach.

“What is that thing doing here!” she cried, and the voice seemed to echo. “You know not to bring that thing in here. Make it leave!”

She seemed genuinely, almost physically distressed. In the time Soarin had been coerced into working for her, it was the only thing he had ever seen her get worked up about. He didn't understand exactly why, but he had the observation tucked away for future use in the event he needed leverage of some sort.

He gestured for the guard to leave, who did, turning stiffly and awkwardly before departing, closing the door behind him.

With the guard gone, the mare seemed to calm down a bit. She wasn't in the light, but Soarin had seen her enough that he could fill in the details. A short, portly unicorn, her pale blue coat almost completely black in the shadows, a constant fidgeting scowl on her face. She was never calm, always anxious. A black cloak was draped around her body, and it seemed to flutter, even when there was no wind. Soarin swore it was alive. She was seated on the back of her pet, a purple dragon too large for the platform. Each of its limbs ran off the edge, finding handholds on the back wall or the steep slope. The back of the platform was scarred with the many gouges made by the dragon's sharp and jagged claws.

The mare smiled, not that it looked sincere or convincing in the slightest as she tried to recover from her previous explosion.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie welcomes you,” she announced from her perch. “And under the orders of the Nightmare Herself, we have a job for you.”

A thick fog descended, obscuring Soarin's vision. Neither he nor Spitfire reacted much. He'd freaked out the first time, so long ago, but after so many errands he'd gotten used to it. A light, long and thin and twisting, like a snake, appeared in the darkness. It coiled and random segments bulged and shrank as it took on the form of a unicorn.

“This is Twilight Sparkle,” Trixie's voice echoed. “She's a powerful Magus, which for you bumbling pegasi means her special talent is magic itself. Like us. She's also a known enemy of the Nightmare. She attacked our Glorious Goddess when She first appeared, in an attempt to stop Her return before She was completely free of her bonds. Of course, underestimating the power of our Leader, she failed. Miserably. But she managed to escape. We've been keeping a close eye on her since, but she's been mostly quiet.

“However, we now believe that's she's on the move again, and possibly attempting to mount a resistance against our empire. A foolish aspiration, of course. She will not be successful, in any event. But she is still a poisonous flower that we would prefer to nip in its bud before it begins to spread lies and mischief. We want to eliminate this plague while it's easily containable. We want her dealt with, quietly and effectively. This is where you come in.”

The image of Twilight dissolved, and a new image appeared, of an enormous ruins in a forest.

“This is the Castle of the Royal Sisters, the former home of our Bountiful Leader and her wicked sister. We have good reason to believe that Twilight or one of her allies may soon be there. I want you to be waiting for them. Your orders are clear. You will watch these ruins, and you will kill any pony who enters them.”

As soon as Soarin' and Spitfire were gone, Trixie's stage presence dissipated. She had only recently realized that acting was such a necessary skill for politicians. But now that she was free from prying eyes, she could be as morose as she wanted.

“We never signed up for this,” she muttered under her breath, thinking of the things she would have done differently if she had known, two years ago, where her path was going to lead her.

The dragon raised its head. “Seriously?” it asked. “You're getting all droopy but you're still going to use the royal 'we'?”

Trixie briefly debated whether or not to scowl at her friend but decided she didn't have the energy. “We've been over this, Spike. It helps things stay... solid.” She climbed off of the dragon and collapsed in the throne. So what if it wasn't hers? What could the Nightmare do to her?

As soon as she left Spike's back, she felt herself pulled into a hug. She twisted her head and noticed that Spike had shrunk back down to his preferred size, just a bit shorter than her. He looked into her eyes and tried his best to smile.

“How are you feeling today?” he asked, already afraid of the answer.

“Rotten. Horrendous. We can't think a straight thought. And it's because of her. Stupid Twilight.”

Spike let go. “You know that's not true, Trixie. This isn't her fault.”

Trixie growled. “Yes, it is. She makes things difficult.”

“That doesn't mean the best solution is to distance yourself from it. You need to face the things that are hurting you.”

“We don't want to face her. We want her gone. Thinking about her makes things hard. We want things to be solid again. Easy again. And we can't have that while she's around. End of discussion. And that's an order.”

Spike sighed. This was like her parents all over again. “Fine. But can I ask? How did you know that she's looking for the Elements of Harmony?”

“Information straight from the horse's mouth,” replied Trixie with a smirk. “All thanks to our trustworthy source. They don't suspect a thing.”

“They will when they discover the ambush you've set. Especially if, like you said, she's only sending some of her followers to the ruins.”

“That won't be a problem,” assured Trixie. “We already have plans in place for the rest of them. Mark my words, Spike. Twilight and all the members of her little band will be dead before the end of the week. And then everything will be perfect again.”

Allegiances

Dinner consisted of quiche lorraine, baked in rosemary flatbread and stuffed with chives and ricotta cheese. Only the faintest scent of garlic crept through, overwhelmed by the aroma of the adjacent honeybread and the chana masala, which was peppered with apple spice, a combination Rarity was afraid would turn out dreadfully mismatched but ended up going quite well together. Finally, a salad of spinach, mushrooms, strawberries, and shaved almonds adorned the side, joined by large goblets of wine. It was one of the most magnificent meals Rarity had ever laid eyes on.

And then Rainbow Dash's previous words to her ignited something, and Rarity realized there was one very important question that needed to be asked.

“Isn't this a bit...” she began, gesturing at the food while trying to find the right word to describe the situation without being too offensive.

Across from her, Madame Orange was looking at her guest. Whether Rarity's outburst had attracted her attention or she had already been staring, Rarity wasn't sure. She had been too focused on the food.

“...much?” she finally decided on. “Isn't this a bit much?”

Madame Orange chuckled. “I suppose the portions are a bit large. But it's better safe than sorry. We can take the leftovers back to the others.”

The feeling that had been tugging at Rarity was causing her to lose her patience. Was that really what Orange had gotten from this? A fear that she might overeat?

The two had gone out to get dinner for the group, and Orange had insisted on stopping for the two of them to eat. Amazingly, they still hadn't left the building.

“That's not what I mean,” Rarity grumbled. “It's just, well,” and she faltered, aware that she was treading on fragile ground. “I spoke to Rainbow Dash,” she said at last. “She told me what it was like in Ponyville. The crops are all sick and shriveled. There's barely enough food. And then there's this spread.” She waved a hoof at the food in front of her. “Do you just pretend that ponies go hungry a day's flight from here?”

Madame Orange, closed her eyes, counting off seconds and using them to regulate her breath. She'd dealt with this accusation before, she could do it again. She chose her words deliberately and carefully. When she spoke, her face and voice shone with a soft admiration. “You would, honey, wouldn't you? Notice. Ask. You're observant. But are you meaning to say that I'm responsible for the suffering in Ponyville?”

The only thing that would have disturbed Rarity more than Orange being oblivious was this. She knew but didn't seem to care. “You certainly aren't doing things to help matters,” she said coldly.

Something in her words set Orange off. “That's what you think, then?” she cried. “That I'm sitting on my tower of gold and watching the world burn under the Nightmare's reign? Maybe you forgot that I'm risking my life on this venture, same as you. Give me a bit of credit.” The fight vanished from her, and she sunk into her seat, laying her head on the table. “Ponyville was my home. My family lives there. Of course I care about it.”

“Then why...”

Orange cut her off, finishing the sentence. “Then why don't they have food? There's a reason they're suffering. There's a pony responsible. But it's not me.”

“It's Nightmare Moon?” Rarity asked snarkily.

Orange paused. “Well, yes. But not just her. I want to help Ponyville, but there's a pony impeding my efforts. My sister-in-law. Your counterpart. Ponyville is hurting because of Rarity Apple.”

The Ponyville Light had set, removing the lingering glow from the eternal twilight. Now only the moon and stars lit up the plains where Applejack was pulling the weeds out of the tomato crop.

Rarity Apple watched the mare from her window. She had to admire the mare's perseverance. She wasn't kidding when she said she would earn her keep. But at this rate, she was going to tire herself out and end up bedridden again.

“She still out there?” Big Macintosh asked from the bed. “What's she trying to prove?”

“I don't think she's trying to prove anything,” admitted Rarity. “I think she honestly wants to help. What I don't get is why.” The obvious answer was that she made a promise and was keeping it. But her work ethic, her complete devotion to helping the farm in any way she could...

It seemed as if the strange pony had personal reasons for helping. Maybe she was a distant relative of the family? That would certainly explain the physical resemblance to Orange. And the cutie mark.

“Don't go looking her in the mouth,” she heard Big Macintosh say behind her. He didn't speak much, but the advice was always worth taking. “She'll speak up in her own time.”

Rarity realized how cold it was. Indoors she was shivering, and she could only imagine what it was like outside. All of the other ponies had already come in. “She'll freeze to death before then,” she muttered. “I'll go get her.”

She hurried down the stairs and out the door, wincing as the cold wind bit into her. She hadn't considered the possibility of wind chill, and now her top priority was getting to the mare and getting the pair of them inside as quickly as possible. She hoped the cold wind wasn't an ill omen. The past week had been relatively calm, but she knew too well the terrible storms that easily hit when there weren't any weather ponies to keep the fronts in check.

By the time she reached “Trixie”, the mare had stopped working and was looking forlornly at a barren tree. Rarity shouted her name, and it took a moment for the mare to respond. Definitely not her name, Rarity decided.

Then why all the secrets? Why the stoic commitment to helping the farm? None of the mare's actions made sense.

“How did this happen?” the mare who probably wasn't named Trixie asked sadly. “This land used to be so beautiful. It's a downright tragedy and travesty that the great Sweet Apple Acres would be reduced to nothin' but withered and dead branches.”

“It's not a tragedy,” answered Rarity. “Tragedies are accidents. This was malice.” She extended a hoof to her guest, who leaned in for warmth, hooking the hoof around her neck.

“You mean to tell me,” the mare murmured as she nuzzled up against Rarity, “that Nightmare Moon targeted you all, specifically.”

“Not the Nightmare,” answered Rarity solemnly. “But another pony. A pony who could have saved the farm but refused. She's a traitor and scum, and it's because of her the farm's in the state it is.”

“Trixie” pulled herself up and stared into Rarity's eyes. “Who did this?” she demanded. “Tell me and I'll buck 'er into next week.”

“Her name was Applejack.”

Rarity watched “Trixie” freeze, and the color drain from her face. Apparently the name was ringing bells.

“It's a long story. I'll tell you the rest when we get inside.”

“Twilight and I were at the Summer Sun Celebration when the princess vanished and the Nightmare emerged,” explained Madame Orange, as Rarity listened intently, sipping on the wine. “We had seen the signs, heard the legends, and we were prepared to take action, should it come to that. But our plan was not to make enemies, but to learn. Unfortunately for us, Nightmare Moon wasn't interested in sharing. We had brought with us her supposed weakness, the Element of Magic. We were there to study her, and should we deem her a threat, eliminate her. Unfortunately, she did the one thing none of us predicted.”

“What was that?” asked Rarity.

“She ran away. We gave chase, but tracking a god-being who can dissolve into mist at a moment's notice turned out to be as difficult as one would expect. While the two of us were chasing our tails, she was building an army. Scouting schools and institutions, recruiting the able-bodied under threat of death, or worse. When she was finally ready to step into the spotlight, we wouldn't have stood a chance against her. Twilight tried anyway. We're lucky she's got away with her life and sanity. And as I carried her bruised and broken body away from the carnage and nursed her back to health, we had a lot of time to think. I wondered what would have happened if we had never stolen the Element of Magic from Celestia. Instead of being in the hooves of an inexperienced young mare, were it wielded by the princess, it might have been useful. It might have made a difference. Instead, all we had done was ensure the death of Equestria. The two of us made a pact then, that we would do whatever it took to ease the suffering of the Equestrians hurt by our foalishness.

“The Greenhouses were our penance, in a way. We couldn't undo what we'd done, but at least we could return part of what we'd taken: the nurturing light of the sun. I engineered the physical machine itself, and Twilight designed the spells that powered them. A true team effort by the two of us. And given my position here in Manehattan, we could mass-produce them. Ponies employed by me before the darkness fell could continue working as if nothing had changed, while saving lives. Orange Industries wasn't going to become obsolete. Instead, it was going to lead the world into a new age of survivability in the face of the Nightmare's Curse.

“Twilight and I had found our place in this new world. And then I met a unicorn. A farm worker from Ponyville who had come to New Yoke seeking a Greenhouse of her own. I didn't realize at the time, I couldn't, that my business with her was only going to cause trouble.”

Applejack and Rarity sat in front of the fireplace as Rarity began her story. “For the first few days, nopony knew what was happening. There were rumors, stories from ponies who knew a stallion who knew a mare who saw it up close. Hay, I was there myself, and even I had trouble putting the pieces together.

“It happened during the Summer Sun Celebration in Ponyville, almost two years ago. I had been working at the farm for a couple years then, and I'd been tasked with selling treats to all the tourists that the Celebration brought.

“When the princess didn't show up, nopony immediately panicked. We were all whispering reassurances to ourselves, saying that there had to be some sensible explanation. But we could tell. That feeling of dread one gets when there's a terrible tragedy. It was everywhere. We could feel it. The fact that none of us knew what was causing it only made us worse. The delicate calm was hiding a rising frenzy.

“Then she showed up. The Nightmare. I don't think anypony there will ever be able to forget the experience. As scared as we were, though, none of us immediately realized the true importance of her arrival, that the sun not rising meant no crops. It dawned on us, only slowly, that Ponyville was going to starve. We tried, the first month or two, but anything that grew at all was shriveled and sickly.

“A couple months in, the Ponyville Light appeared in the sky for the first time, and we dared to hope. But nothing changed. It wasn't the sun. It gave off no heat, and it barely glowed at all. It was a dud. And then, in the midst of all this fear and suffering, we found hope. More rumors, of course, but we were desperate for anything. We heard word that there was some big company up in Manehattan that had discovered a way to grow crops without the sun. It was a miracle. For a brief moment we were willing to believe we were saved. I traveled to Manehattan to see if these rumors were true. But the moment I arrived, I knew we weren't getting the help we needed.

“She goes by Madame Orange now, but her name used to be Applejack. She's Big Macintosh's little sister who left the farm eight years ago. Have you ever met her?”

The question bordered on accusation. Applejack swallowed hard. She had always valued transparency, so lying never came easy. She knew she was terrible at it, too. It never seemed to come natural, and it never felt right. But despite the strain the act was putting on her, she pressed forward. She could only guess what Rarity really thought of her sister-in-law. If she knew the truth, Applejack risked losing the pony whose help she needed. More importantly, she would lose the only friend she had made in this universe.

“Never heard of her.”

Rarity frowned, and Applejack realized how suspicious she seemed. A pony, bearing a striking familial resemblance to the Apple family and branded with an apple cutie mark, was claiming to never heard of the family's most famous member. Now that she had already spoken, a dozen other possible excuses came to her. She could have said she was a long lost relative, maybe a niece or nephew of the Orange line who had returned to apples.

Still, if Rarity suspected anything, she didn't show it. “Orange ran a business where she invested in other ponies' futures. She tracked down young ponies who she saw potential in and scooped them up before anypony else could reach them. Some unicorn had designed a greenhouse that had its own sun, and Orange was in charge of building them. Our family's survival was now in the hooves of the mare whom had left us behind.

“We didn't have much in the way of money. Everything we used to have had gone toward keeping the farm in business, putting food on the table. But Orange Enterprises weren't exactly in the business of giving out expensive magical machinery. Orange agreed to help us, on one condition. I don't know if it was spite, a way of forcing us to admit that she had been right, or a way of claiming what she felt was hers, but the price of our salvation was clear.

“In exchange for sunlight, Madame Orange demanded we give her the farm.”

“I don't want you to think for a moment that I don't love my family,” explained Madame Orange. “The last thing I wanted was for my folks to starve. But I didn't have many options. When all the facts were laid out, only one course of action made any sense.

“When Rarity Apple came to me to ask about buying a Greenhouse, she didn't understand what she was talking about. She didn't even know what it looked like, or what it was named. She called it 'salvation', as if it was a magic miracle cure for all her problems. But real magic doesn't work that way. Nothing is free, and the Greenhouses had two shortcomings she didn't predict and couldn't comprehend.

“The Greenhouses are very intricate, temperamental pieces of machinery. Twilight and I never could get all the bugs worked out of them. As a consequence, they had to be monitored and operated by somepony trained in their behavior. Somepony intimately experienced with the workings of the device. In other words, a permanent on-site representative. Rarity wasn't very excited about this, but she was willing to accept it, until she learned what frankly should have been obvious. A Greenhouse can still only grow as much food as the land it covers. To restore her farm to its former glory, the entire location would have to be swathed with the Houses. Which would require permanent terraforming. The project was massively impractical, and I knew they could never afford it. But they were still my family, so I agreed to it. I returned to the farm to oversee the project.

“Big Macintosh was very cooperative. I think he was just glad to have me back. Truth be told, I missed him just as much. But Rarity was much less enthusiastic. She wasn't satisfied with the degree of control I was trying to have, that I needed to have, for the project to work. She didn't want me to 'ruin the natural beauty' of the place, which was pretty much impossible. And even though she wasn't even family, Big Mac listened to her. If she didn't approve of something, it wouldn't happen. You could see how much he cared about her input. Or maybe he was just afraid of setting her off. Which, in the end, was exactly what happened.

“Rarity finally got fed up with how Big Mac had granted me permission to do whatever was necessary to get the Greenhouses up and running. She told me it was their farm, not mine, and I didn't have the right to touch it. So I told her maybe that ought to change. If I owned the deed to the farm, then there wouldn't be any more disputes about who had which rights to do what. After all, it wouldn't be useful to them if they were going to starve. And besides, they still owed me for the work I was doing for them.

“She refused. So I told her that we didn't have a deal. And I left.

“It broke my heart; it really did. I wasn't expecting her to be so stubborn, but I couldn't back out on my threat. It was like a game of chicken, and she didn't move out of the way. But she didn't just hurt herself. She brought the entire town of Ponyville down with her. Because of her refusal to work with me, see me eye-to-eye, she made it impossible to keep working. There was literally nothing I could do. If Ponyville was going to starve now, it would be because of her.

“I never really figured out why it was so important to her. The best I could figure it out, I was stealing her thunder. She wanted to be the one to save Ponyville, and if she couldn't save her friends, then no one could. Everypony lost because Rarity had to be the hero.”

“Everypony lost because Madame Orange had to be the hero. It wasn't enough for her to give us the tools for survival, but she had to be the one wielding them. Because in a position of power, she could extort us. The farm would have just been the beginning. Madame Orange was planning to use our misfortune to control us, to rule us. She was profiting from our suffering. She had the power to save us, and she refused to grant it, because giving up her power for the greater good was unthinkable. Either she saved Ponyville, and gained something from the process, or everypony else would lose. The worst part was, she could change her mind and decide to do the right thing at any time. But she wouldn't. Make no mistake, Orange only wanted to bleed us dry. Even if we had given her everything, it wouldn't have made a difference, because her intent was never to help us, but to keep us forever in her debt.”

Rarity finished her story, and Applejack was silent as she tried to imagine her other self. It was too much to take in at once, and any time she thought she had focused on one part of the story, another part of Rarity's tale would rise up and overtake it in Applejack's mind. Hearing and understanding were turning out to be two completely different things entirely.

“I can't believe she would do something like that...”

“But we can fix this,” Rarity reminded her. “You told me before about the Elements, these items in the Everfree Forest that can bring back the sun. Tell me more about those. We should always look ahead, Trixie.”

Applejack cringed at the fake name. Was this her plan? Continue to lie to Rarity until she got what she wanted? Betray the trust of a pony that had nursed her back to health?

“Ah need you to go get Pinkie Pie,” said Applejack. “She's a part o' this too. But before you do, there's something I need to tell ya first.”

Rarity's gaze was sympathetic. “I'm all ears.”

“Mah name isn't Trixie.”

“I can't believe she would do something like that!” Rarity was shattered. “How could I really be so heartless?”

“She's not you,” reminded Madame Orange.

“But she could be! Everything that's in her is in me. The fact that our different experiences put us in different places changes nothing. The fact is, if I had been through what she'd been through, I'd be her. The only thing really different between us is a coin toss. If she's a monster, then so am I.”

“Rarity, I really don't think this level of self-depreciation is called for,” said Orange. “And I think you're causing a scene.” Many of the other ponies in the restaurant were beginning to pay attention to them, although they all tried to make it seem that they weren't.

Rarity leaned in toward Orange across the table. “I don't think you understand,” she told her. “Thinking about you makes me think about her.”

“The other me? Applejack?”

Rarity looked away, embarrassed. “Yeah. Our relationship was strained, to say the least. We have mutual friends, and we're both part of the whole 'Elements of Harmony' thing, but beyond that we tried to avoid each other. I didn't care for her much, and the feeling was mutual. In fact, I'm pretty sure she hates me.”

“I'm certain that's not true," responded Orange, filled with a conviction that Rarity didn't understand. "If she's anything like me, anything at all, then she doesn't hate you. Not in the least.”

“No. It's fine. Because I think I deserve it. I see her in you, Madame. But I don't hate you. Far from it. I think you're amazing. So I really thought about it, the reasons why I don't like her. And I think they're really superficial. And petty.” She looked up at Orange. “This isn't an easy thing to admit,” she said, chuckling a little. “I always considered her uncouth, uncivilized, but that's not a reason to hate a pony. But she's also smarter than me. She always knows the right thing to do, the right advice to give. Even though I went to college and she didn't. It's humiliating. Somepony who doesn't abide by my code, doesn't act at all how I feel a pony should behave herself, and she's better than I am. She wouldn't be so bad if she weren't so helpful, so genuinely nice, so...” Rarity paused, trying to come up with the best words. “So pure.”

“So the Applejack you know is a nice mare. That's hardly a reason to put yourself down like this.”

“You don't get it. How can I prove myself to her when she's the one who's flawless in both realities? In every reality, more likely. And I'm just a vain petty prat in both. What if Applejack meets the other me and decides that we're not that different? That everything your Rarity has done is something I'm capable of doing. Applejack's not afraid to get her hooves dirty like I am. She's not afraid to do the right thing, no matter how painful it is or how much pride she has to swallow. She embodies tough love. And you're just... just... love. How do I hold my candle flame to that?”

“Don't be that way,” chided Orange. “I think you're a wonderful mare. Sophisticated, charming, but with a real heart. You care about what others think, not because you like being the center of attention, but because you want to be involved. You want to change the world, to stamp out suffering. The fact that you're worrying about your heart like this is only proof. If you were truly heartless, Rarity, that fact wouldn't bother you in the least.” Orange moved around the table and grabbed Rarity, hugging her tightly. “Let's finish eating and get back to the others. Maybe we can help them prepare for their journey. The Mooncatcher sets sail for the arctic circle tomorrow, and everything has to be perfect.”

Rarity nodded. “Yes,” she agreed. “Let's focus on the task in front of us.”

“Although,” added Madame Orange, “and I can't stress this enough, honey, I'm really glad we had this talk. You're not the only one of us to benefit from our meeting. You've gained perspective. I've gained a friend.”

Applejack wasn't used to having the eyes of everypony in the room. The fact that she knew most of them, but they continued to regard her as a near stranger, did little to ease her nervousness. This was going to be her first real impression, and she knew she was going to sound crazy. Rarity and Big Macintosh were huddled together, and Rarity was offering her a supportive smile, trying to egg her on. Opposite them sat Pinkamena and her husband, Pumpkin Custard. Pinkamena looked, if anything, confused, and Custard's glare was saturated with suspicion and impatience. Taking a deep breath, Applejack began.

“What ah'm about to say doesn't leave this room, y'hear?”

Four nods encouraged her to continue.

“My name ain't really Trixie, though I think y'all have already suspected as much. Mah real name is Glimmer Shine. Ah didn't mean ta lie to such kind folk as y'all, but ah had no choice. I work with Twilight Sparkle, the mare ah heard you played host to a couple nights ago. Somepony attacked us, got us beat up pretty bad. Ah got scared, that she might still be out there looking for me, so ah lied. But ah didn't get you all here to apologize for that. I got you here so we could talk about something a bit more important: helping Ponyville, and helping all of Equestria to boot.”

“I'm sorry,” interrupted Pumpkin Custard, “but what does this have to do with us?”

“It doesn't have anything to do with you,” said Applejack dryly. “You weren't invited.”

“This is preposterous,” exclaimed Custard. “She's hardly in a position to ask more favors of us. You're lucky I'm here, or she'd be dragging us all into the pits of Tartarus.”

“Hush, Custard.” Rarity's command, although not loud or angry, was stern, and the stallion quieted immediately. “You haven't even heard her proposal yet. Continue, Glimmer.”

All the ponies really did listen to Rarity, Applejack realized. Even the ones who disagreed with her. The unicorn's authority seemed unquestioned. Big Mac himself was a strong leader and clever pony, and it seemed he'd found a commanding wife-to-be as well. Applejack grinned stupidly as she tried to think of something the two of them wouldn't be able to accomplish together. The pairing had seemed ridiculous to her at first, but it was beginning to grow on her.

“Alright, here's the deal,” she said, shaking off the images. “Twilight's research uncovered the truth about Nightmare Moon. She's actually Celestia's sister, banished to the moon a thousand years ago.”

“And now she's spouting fairy tales,” Custard muttered.

Rarity shot him another glare. “Maybe not,” she countered. “Dawn, where did you learn of this truth behind the Nightmare Queen?”

“Why, Celestia herself told me.”

“Are you serious?” Custard looked over each of his companions, his jaw hanging open. “This is asinine! Do any of you actually believe this con artist?”

Rarity's voice grew restrained. “Your personal opinion here is irrelevant,” she told him. “We are here to listen to what Glimmer Shine has to tell us. If you do not want to listen, you are free to leave. But you have no right to deny this choice to any of us. Either leave or stay seated, but either way, I do not want to hear your voice for the rest of the night.”

Custard groaned as he stood. “Fine. Pinkie, come.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. Nopony she knew spoke to Pinkie that way. If anything, Custard was sounding like Gilda.

Slowly, Pinkamena rose and trotted over to her husband. “I'm sorry,” she muttered.

Custard gave a whinny of contempt and marched out of the room, Pinkamena following behind him.

“Hold on!” Applejack called after them. “Rarity said you ain't got the right to keep this from any of us, an' that includes Pinkie Pie. Let her stay.”

Custard breathed deeply, retaining his anger as he trotted over to Applejack. “I'm sorry,” he said bitterly. “I must have missed that part where you married her.”

“Let them go,” Rarity told Applejack. “This isn't worth fighting over.” The earth mare was about to speak back when she noticed the stern look on Rarity instructing her to remain silent. Rarity's unquestionable authority indeed. The unicorn definitely had the charisma for it.

Applejack managed to hold her tongue until Custard and Pinkamena were out of the room, at which point she exploded. “What gives him the right to do that?” she demanded. “ Ya saw how he treated Pinkie Pie. And yer telling me she's not worth fighting over? Ah don't like him, Rarity. Ah don't like him a bit. ”

Rarity sighed. “Join the club, then. But regardless of his attitude, what happens between the two of them isn't up to us. I can fill her in later, and believe me, she'll want in. You just keep on explaining the plan.”

“There isn't much of a point to it now,” said Applejack. “You already know more than I was planning on telling either of them. And I'd be shocked if you hadn't already shared it with Big Mac.”

“You're sharp, Applejack,” said Rarity. “Big Macintosh and I keep no secrets from each other.”

“Ah'm still surprised you believe me,” said Applejack. “Ah know ah wouldn't. I'm even more surprised you still want me around, knowin' who I am.”

“Oh, hush,” jibed Rarity, wrapping a foreleg around Applejack. “Is it really that much harder to swallow than anything else that's happened? And we have no bitterness toward you, Applejack. You aren't her. Honestly, we're just glad to know that somewhere there's a version of you who hasn't forgotten about her family. I'm happy you were willing to trust us with this secret. Now, if these elements do what you say, if they strip the Nightmare Queen of her powers and bring the sun back, then that's a goal worth pursuing. I'll help you find them and use them. And so will Pinkamena, I know it.”

“If that bully lets her,” sulked Applejack.

“He will. You just leave that to me.”

From within the closet, Scootaloo's pulse quickened and she tried her best to keep her breath even. She had no idea what to expect when she suggested to Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom that they spy on the grown-ups, and what she was hearing was a bigger scoop than she could have imagined.

Her family were spies! This was incredible! Her amazement continued to grow as she began to imagine what this could mean for her fellow crusaders.

Madame Orange and Rarity had just returned to the living quarters when they spotted a scrawny brown earth pony colt with a screwdriver cutie mark trying to get their attention.

“Madame Orange!” he called as he approached them. “If I could just have a word with you, please.”

Madame gestured for Rarity to go on without her before following the earth pony down a hallway toward a lift.

“I thought you should know, Madame,” the colt began, “that I finished it just now, as per your request.”

“It's about time, Gear Shift,” answered Madame Orange, her voice inflectionless. “You're running things a bit close to the deadline, aren't you?”

“Sorry, ma'am. I've been working as fast as I can, and I think you'll find the results satisfactory.” He grinned. “Would you like to see it?”

“Of course.”

Gear Shift forced open the door for the lift, and the two ponies climbed in. They descended multiple stories, emerging in a hallway that was much less furnished. Bare walls and wooden floors with no decoration filled their view. The halls didn't have to look appealing when they were never meant to be seen by guests.

Maintenance, thought Orange. Always a cheerful atmosphere.

She followed Gear into a large workroom where various bits of machinery, gears and pistons and engines, all lay strewn about. In the corner was the device in question.

It wasn't large, it could comfortably be carried by a single pony. Two cylindrical metal containers, joined by multiple tubes and wires and connected to a square interface in the center. While the machine could easily feel cluttered or disorganized, everything was precisely positioned and arranged for a pleasing aesthetic. A simple shape for a very simple purpose. Perfect engineering, up to Orange Industry standards.

“Excellent work,” Madame Orange told the colt. “Exactly what we need.”

Gear Shift seemed nervous, uncertain, and he did not take her praise without a bit of concern. “If I can ask you, Madame, what do you plan to do with it?”

Orange turned and looked him in the eye, the smile gone from her face. “That is none of your business, Gear Shift. And I would like to take this chance to remind you that your payment for this project is contingent upon you upholding your vow of secrecy. You are not to tell anypony what you've done today. Not your coworkers. Not my guests upstairs. Especially not my guests upstairs. Is that understood?”

Gear nodded shakily. “Yes, ma'am,” he responded.

“Don't be so nervous,” she instructed him. “This is perfect. And like I just got done explaining to my friend, everything needs to be perfect.”

Apple Bloom watched from the roof as the Pumpkins exited the building and turned in their direction of their house.

And then they stopped. Apple Bloom squinted, trying to make out what was happening. Pumpkin Custard and Pinkamena were talking about something, but she couldn't make out what. Finally, they split, Pinkamena continuing toward her home, and Custard making his way in the complete opposite direction.

Wait, what? Apple Bloom tried to come up with a good reason why her family member would be up and about this late. Maybe he wasn't tired and wanted to get some work done on the fields, but all of the soil Custard worked was right by his house.

Climbing down the outside of the chimney was easier than climbing up, and Apple Bloom cleared the last couple of feet by leaping into a bale of hay. Careful to be light on her hooves, she walked to the corner of the building and peered around. Something strange was going on, and she knew she wasn't going to be able to fall asleep until she figured out what.

She waited for Custard to walk out of sight, behind another building. Then she moved to catch up with him. The list of locations he could possibly be going diminished as he passed the outhouse, the pig farm, the storage shed...

He approached the fence at the perimeter of the farm. With a running start, he leaped over it effortlessly. Apple Bloom had heard Pinkamena tell her that Custard had worked in a rodeo before he had married. It showed, and she realized Custard was not a pony she would want to upset. She considered abandoning the pursuit but quickly realized that wasn't going to happen. Curiosity had gotten the best of her; she was going to get to the bottom of this. She stumbled over the same segment of fence Custard had easily cleared and followed him into the fringes of the Everfree Forest.

She quickly lost sight of Custard through the trees, and it was too dark to make out any tracks. Apple Bloom turned to make sure she could still see the farm; getting lost in the Everfree Forest would be a worse fate than being caught by Custard. She could barely make out the wooden fence in the distance. She took note of her surroundings, making sure she knew what direction to travel in to get out, and she dared to venture a few steps further.

The trees let up into a clearing, and Apple Bloom froze at the edge. Pumpkin Custard was talking with a strange pegasus stallion hitched to a cart. A large wooden crate had been dumped from the cart onto the ground.

“Ya haven't told Big Mac about this, 'ave ya?” asked the pegasus in a Trotston accent. He was a dark mustard color, with a disheveled mane and unshorn fetlocks.

“No. If he knows, then she knows, and I think we both know how Rarity would react if she knew.”

“Yeesh,” bemoaned the pegasus, possibly sympathetically. “That'd be a fight for the ages. She's gonna figua it out, ya know. She ain't dumb.”

“What do you know?”

“I met the broad before. Be careful's, all I'm saying. That's one mare who ain't afraid to get her hooves dirty.”

“Consider myself warned then,” answered Custard, irritatedly. He made a move for the crate, but a suddenly extended wing cut him off.

“Nuh-uh-uh!” cried the pegasus shrilly. “Tell me a little somein' foist.”

“That was never part of the deal.”

“No, but it's coitosy. How's ya doughta doin'?”

Custard sighed. From the bushes, Apple Bloom could see that he was smiling.

“She's going to grow up to be a fine young mare, I can tell. More energy than either Pinkie or I are able to manage, but that's all part of the charm, isn't it? It's impossible to be around her without having your spirits lifted. You can really see a change in Pinkie when Pumpkin's around. She went missing last week, and Pinkie got really depressed. She needs her daughter. Pumpkin's everything to her.”

Apple Bloom tried to listen as Custard went over everything that had happened on the farm in the last week, but her tiredness quickly got the best of her. Forced to sit still, she stifled a few yawns before her focus faltered and she nodded off.

She awoke to rough prodding from an angered Pumpkin Custard. The pegasus was gone, and the crate was strapped onto Custard's back. The look in his eyes was clear. Apple Bloom knew she was not to speak of what had happened to anypony.

When they got back to the farm, Custard shooed Apple Bloom away. She hurried to the treehouse, eager to share what she had just seen.

Except she knew she couldn't. Maybe Scootaloo could be trusted to keep her mouth shut, but Sweetie Belle wouldn't be able to keep a secret. Still, though, she was curious what the others had managed to pick up. She pulled herself through the door to discover that Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle were waiting for her. Scootaloo looked grumpy, while Sweetie Belle seemed concerned. Relief overcame the unicorn when she saw her friend.

“What took you so long?” both Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle asked, their differing intonations making the questions seem completely different.

“I fell asleep,” Apple Bloom answered honestly.

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Of course. But get this.” She then recounted to Apple Bloom everything that she had heard from the adults' meeting.

“So the grownups want to find these element thingies to bring the sun back?” asked Apple Bloom when the story was complete. “I guess that means there's only one thing for us to do.”

She didn't have to elaborate. The grins of the other two ponies told her that they were all thinking the same thing.

“Cutie Mark Crusader Treasure Seekers!” they shouted in unison.

Crusade

Rarity strained as she set the crate down in the cargo bay. They didn't need to pack much for the journey to the pole, but food was still a necessity. Unsurprisingly, it consisted of mostly oranges, but other assorted fruits and vegetables were mixed in as well.

At least Twilight wouldn't succumb to scurvy. And speaking of Twilight, Rarity wondered where the unicorn had wandered off too. She had been helping them load up and refuel the Mooncatcher, along with her döppleganger, but she had vanished before they were complete.

Taking a quick break from the exertion, Rarity made a quick tour of the accommodations. She still couldn't quite get over how big it was. A pony could get lost in these walls.

She finally located Twilight in the spa, sitting on her rump in the middle of the room and staring at the tapestry, frowning. Rarity cautiously called out her friend's name, stirring Twilight from her revere.

"What are you?" she growled in frustration before giving up and greeting Rarity. "Sorry," she apologized. "I guess you could say I've been getting a little obsessed lately."

"I'll say," added Rarity as she joined her friend. "What is it, anyway?"

Twilight frowned and grumbled. "I don't know," she said. "But I've seen it somewhere before, I know I have. I'm losing sleep over this."

"Oh, dear," sympathized Rarity. "We don't want you to suffer, but darling, is this really worth giving up precious sleep over? You'll remember when you need to."

Twilight sighed. "But that's exactly the thing," she told Rarity. "I do need to. I can't explain how I know, but I do. It's just this sinking feeling that this tapestry is really important. Critically important for our success. Ponies are going to get hurt unless I can remember were I saw it before." She winced and held her head in her hooves. "And this headache isn't helping much either."

"You need rest, Twilight Sparkle."

Twilight had forgotten how insistent Rarity could be at times. It was nice to know that somepony was looking out for her. "I'll sleep on the ship," she told Rarity. "After I figure out why this thing is so important."

"Are you sure you know the way?"

Applebloom sighed. "'Course not, Scootaloo. But you said the grown-ups were talking 'bout how this place used ta be a castle. So I figure if we just follow the paths we're bound to stumble 'pon it eventually. Ah mean, where else are these roads gonna lead?"

Scootaloo wasn't certain about that logic, but she realized Apple Bloom may have had a point about the paths. Overgrowth had done their best to obscure them, but the fillies could still clearly see where the roads once were, long ago. Somepony had to have made them, for whatever reason.

“Hey, Applebloom,” asked Scootaloo, breaking the silence. “You think anypony famous walked down this road?”

“Ah dunno. What do you think, Sweetie Belle?”

Sweetie Belle, bringing up the rear, shivered. “I think we should just go back. It's getting pretty dark...”

“Don't be such a wimp, Sweetie,” said Scootaloo. “This could be how we finally get our cutie marks. Cutie marks for tomb raiding! How cool would that be?”

“I hope it's not a tomb...” muttered Sweetie Belle quietly, but she continued following her friends. Scootaloo had taken Apple Bloom's place as the leader of the expedition, but Apple Bloom kept noticing her pegasus friend making furtive glances off into the growth. She started to ask about it, but she was quickly shushed.

“Quiet,” ordered Scootaloo. “Just listen.”

Apple Bloom tried, but heard nothing.

“It's weird,” Scootaloo explained. “I keep thinking I'm seeing something. Maybe we're being followed.”

“Followed?” Sweetie Belle's nerves were beginning to get the best of her. She began to back away slowly but quickly realized that distancing herself from her friends probably wasn't the safest idea. She ran to catch up, hiding behind Apple Bloom and constantly shifting her gaze, searching for anything.

“Don't do that Scoots,” reprimanded Apple Bloom. “She's had enough.”

“No, seriously. And I keep hearing stuff too.”

“I mean it. Knock it off.”

“Come on, Apple Bloom. If there really is something following us, wouldn't you want me to tell you instead of pretending I didn't hear anything? I don't know what lurks in these woods, but if there's three of us and one of it, we can handle it. We just need to stay...”

Sweetie Belle screamed and pointed off the path into the trees.

“Calm,” Scootaloo finished.

The other fillies spun, trying to see whatever had startled her. Looking into the darkness, Apple Bloom saw movement, but it quickly flittered out of sight.

“Maybe this isn't such a good idea,” repeated Sweetie Belle, and to Apple Bloom the statement suddenly seemed a lot more agreeable. “We're just a bunch of fillies.”

Scootaloo, however, was still determined. “We are not fillies,” she told Sweetie Belle sternly, stepping toward the unicorn and backing her up against a tree. “Pumpkin Pie's a filly, and we're twice her age. That makes us adults.”

“Wait a tick,” muttered Apple Bloom, and she suddenly took off into the underbrush. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo heard the sounds of a brief scuffle before Apple Bloom returned, dragging a discriminative filly behind her. The filly struggled against her larger captor, attempting to free herself. “Lemme go!”, she cried. “Or I'll sock ya real good!”

Apple Bloom deposited the filly between them. “It this what you girls were all scared of?”

Sweeie Belle blinked away the forming tears and focused on the newcomer in front of her. “Pumpkin?” Her breathing slowly returned to normal as she calmed down.

Scootaloo was much less amused. “The hay are you doing out here?” she asked, pointing a hoof at Pumpkin.

The small filly refused to be daunted. “You're going on an adventure!” she said. “You can't leave me outa this! You gotta take me with you!”

“No, we don't,” countered Scootaloo. “Your parents would freak if they knew you were out here because of us.”

Pumpkin began to sniffle a bit. “But I want to find those element things you guys were talking about!”

“Sorry, Pumpkin,” said Apple Bloom. “Not buying it. I know ya too well.”

The tears stopped immediately. “Fine,” humphed Pumpkin. “But I'm still coming with you.”

“Wait a second,” interjected Scootaloo. “How'd you know what we were up to? You were spying on us, weren't you? You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“But we were spying on the grown-ups,” Sweetie Belle offered.

Pumpkin's eyes lit up. “Yeah!” she said. “Exactly. So I didn't do anything wrong!”

Apple Bloom wasn't sure about that logic. “The answer's still no, Pumpkin,” she said. “Your folks are scary when they get mad. I don't want to be near either one of them if they find out.”

“Fine then,” said Pumpkin, acting dejected and submissive but overdoing it, making clear she was putting on a show. “You win.” Then she smirked. “So what're ya gonna do about it? Make me go back alone? Mum and Pa would tan all of your hides. You ain't got a choice but to keep me with you.”

“Or I could take her back,” offered Sweetie Belle. “Since I don't like it here anyway.”

“Chicken,” said Scootaloo.

“Look who's talking.”

“Enough,” interrupted Apple Bloom. “That's fine. Sweetie Belle will turn around and take Pumpkin back home. Don't worry, Pumpkin. We'll tell you all the details tomorrow.”

Pumpkin, although bitter, seemed ready to give up and accept her fate. “I never do anything fun.”

Sweetie Belle moved to sling a leg around the small filly's neck. “Come on,” she urged. “We can play a fun game or something when we get home.”

“Actually,” muttered Pumpkin, yawning. “Maybe we should just go to sleep.”

The dispute now settled, Sweetie Belle and pumpkin turned around, heading back the way they came, while Apple Bloom and Scootaloo continued onward. For a few minutes they walked in silence.

“Glad that's over with,” Scootaloo finally spoke up.

“Yeah. Hey, what do you think the palace is gonna look like?”

“I dunno, but I think I see it.” Ahead of them, the line of trees began to thin, opening up into a clearing. A building of some sort could be seen through the small gaps in the foliage. The fillies began galloping toward their destination, only to stop in confusion as a realization came to them.

Their path was blocked by an incredibly familiar fence. Apple Bloom realized that they had somehow wandered back to outskirts of the farm.

Scootaloo turned around, trying to look back into the darkness of the forest path. “We must have gotten turned around somehow. Do we go back in?”

“Nah. I got a better idea for what we can do tonight.” Apple Bloom explained to Scootaloo what she had seen in the forest the night before. “Pumpkin's Dad is up to something. Ah don't trust him. An' ah don't care how scary he is, we need to hero up and take matters into our own hooves.”

“What are going to do though? Warn Big Macintosh? He'd never believe us!”

“He would if we found the crate and showed them what's inside it.”

“What is inside it?”

“Beats me. But it sounded mighty important. We just need to figure out where he hid it.”

“Yeah,” said Scootaloo, still not entirely convinced and eager to go back to looking for whatever treasure the grownups had been discussing. “But what about Sweetie Belle and Pumpkin? We should go back for them!”

“They'll be fine. We found our way out without trying, didn't we? And even if we found them, we'd just have to leave again with them. Face it, Scoots, this whole treasure-seeking deal was a bust.”

Let's try this one more time. Eighty-five bushels of apples from the last harvest, divided by twelve ponies, thirteen if you count Applejack, strange case that she is, and considering that the corn harvest won't be ready for another three weeks, and if we want at least three different types of food available at any one time...

Rarity made a couple of quick calculations on a sheet of paper and compared the result to her previous measurements.

That can't be right at all... Why do I keep getting such drastically different results?

She turned back to the previous page of the record books and began totaling the different breeds of apples. She couldn't figure out exactly where the error was occurring, but she was determined to track it down. Somewhere she had made a miscalculation, and now it was coming back to bite her and deny her sleep.

She knew she should be resting. They would need to be alert and awake when they traveled into the forest the next day to help Applejack find the Elements of Harmony.

She didn't know why she was so willing to believe the mare's claim that she was from another reality. It could very easily be some sort of bizarre trap. But for some reason Rarity couldn't quite fathom, she trusted that mare. Something about Applejack just... what was the word for it? Rarity couldn't even begin to place it.

Of course, Pinkamena's account of Twilight Sparkle's story didn't hurt. These two strange mares, Applejack and Twilight, both seemed to know things that they had no real means of knowing. If they were spies, they had certainly done their research.

And then there was that even stranger mare that had shown up at Pinkamena's wedding. Rarity had a couple of questions for her too.

She finally forced herself to shut the book and prepare for bed. Finding the source of her errors was important, but sleep still needed to come first. Nothing was going to keep her from well deserved rest. Which was probably why she felt her frustration rise when Pinkamena came bursting through her door.

"Yes, Darling?" Rarity asked, trying her best to be cordial. She quickly became concerned, however, when she noticed that the pink mare seemed wide-eyed and out of breath.

"Where's Pumpkin?" she asked frantically. "She's not in bed. Have you seen her at all?"

"Stay calm, dear, we need to be level headed." Rarity placed her hooves on Pinkamena's shoulders, trying to get her to relax. She sympathized with the poor mare, of course. She could just imagine how she would react if Sweetie Belle were to go missing. But right now, at least one of them needed to think clearly, if not both of them. She watched Pinkamena take multiple huge gulps of air as she slowly settled and her breaths began to approach something remotely close to even.

"Now", she continued when Pinkamena seemed calm enough. "Have you checked the treehouse? You know how fond Pumpkin is of Sweetie and her friends. Maybe they decided to have a sleepover and neglected to tell either of us. Irresponsible, but perhaps a tad understandable."

Pinkamena shook her head. "I checked," she responded. "There's nopony there."

Rarity felt her heart seize up. "And you tell me this now?" she cried, losing all sense of calm. "We have to find them. Round up a search party!"

"That won't be necessary," said a gruff voice from outside, and the two mares watched Pumpkin Custard drag Apple Bloom into the house by the scruff of her neck, Scootaloo plodding along dejectedly at her heels. “I found these two fooling around in the fields. I'm pretty curious myself to hear what they've done with our daughter this late at night.”

“Well?” Rarity's stern question demanded an immediate response, and the two fillies began stumbling over each other's words in an awkward attempt to answer.

“She's safe, she's coming back...”

“She's with Sweetie Belle, and they're...”

“...right behind us, if they follow the path...”

“...out in the Everfree Forest...”

The awaiting adults, who had been attempting with difficulty to separate the layers of the hasty speech, understood the last part immediately. “Are you insane?” Rarity asked Apple Bloom, who had suddenly found the ground to be immensely fascinating. “Just leaving my sister and your cousin out in the forest to fend for themselves? I expect more responsible behavior from you. You should be a role model, somepony Pumpkin can trust and look up to. I promise you, your brother is going to hear about this as soon as he wakes up.” She turned to Scootaloo, adding the other filly to the tirade. “Now the two of you are going to stay right here and think about what you've done. I don't want either of you to move an inch until we get back with our missing family. Do you hear me?” She turned to the other adults in the room. “Let's go.”

The three grown ponies shuffled toward the doorway before Custard stopped them. “Stay here with the girls,” he told Pinkamena.

“No,” insisted Pinkamena defiantly. “I'm going with you,” she insisted. “Our daughter is lost somewhere out there, and if you think I wouldn't tear down every tree in that forest to keep her safe, then you're crazy. Nothing is going to keep me from her. Not the Everfree Forest. Not you.”

She stood her ground as Pumpkin Custard confronted her. “One of the two most important ponies to me may be in danger,” he told her. “I am not putting the second one in harm's way.” She knew that the words were supposed to sound empathetic, but she couldn't detect the compassion in them. Just orders.

“If you leave without me, I'll sneak out behind you and search for our daughter on my own. Where would you rather have me? With you and Rarity or by myself?”

Custard was almost fuming again when Scootaloo interrupted. “Nah, it's cool,” she said, catching the surprise and attention of the adult ponies. “She can stay. After you two leave, we'll just show her what we found in your shed.”

Custard froze, and his pulse quickened. He glared at Apple Bloom, trying to remind her of his threat.

“Custard? What are they talking about?” asked Rarity, confused.

“Nothing,” Custard stammered. “They're fooling around and wasting time, that's all.”

“Wow,” groaned Scootaloo, dragging out the word, “you really don't want Rarity to find out what's in your shed, do you? You don't want her to know that you went to that totally secret meeting.”

Rarity looked between Custard and Scootaloo, trying to comprehend what was going on. “Custard?” she asked again. “Explain what Scootaloo means.”

Custard groaned. “Later,” he told her. “We have more important issues to deal with.”

“Come on,” Scootaloo begged, “It'll be quick. And you really want to see this.” Before any of the other ponies could respond, she raced between them and out the door. With a startled cry, Custard was the first to follow behind her, the other ponies at his heels.

Custard, with his longer legs, caught up to Scootaloo at the edge of the Pumpkin family's home and grabbed her leg, tripping her. As the other ponies caught up to her, Apple Bloom shot past, continuing the chase. She sprinted to the shed, which had been left open in the haste of their previous conflict, trying to pull out the crate contained within. Struggling to force it open, she was eventually dragged off by Rarity.

“What has gotten into you two,” the unicorn hissed. “I have put up with your foolishness because you're a child, and a child needs to play. But you've put two members of this family in danger, so the least you could do is accept some responsibility and be a mature, well-mannered filly for once in your life. There is time to play around, but not here and not now. Do you understand?”

Apple Bloom relaxed and nodded. “You should go find Sweetie Belle,” she said. “This can wait.”

“I don't understand this,” pondered Rarity. “What is so important that you had to pull this ridiculous stunt? I trust Pumpkin Custard. Whatever he's holding on to, I believe he has a good reason for it. He doesn't have to explain anything.”

“So you don't want to see what's in the crate?” asked Apple Bloom. “Even though it's right here. If you trust him he shouldn't have to hide anything, right?”

Rarity paused. Behind them, the other ponies were approaching, and Custard called out to them, extremely agitated. “Look,” he said. “We really don't have time for this. Pinkie, take the kiddies back to their treehouse.”

“What? No, I said I'm going with you.”

The dispute behind her was enough for Rarity to make a judgment call. She tore the cover off of the crate and examined the contents within.

“What is this?” she asked quietly to herself. Custard, who had been approaching her, froze. She turned and repeated the question to him.

“Why in Equestria is this in your shed? You better have a really good explanation for this.”

“This is so awesome!” cried Pumpkin as the pair emerged into the clearing. “I've never seen a real castle before.”

The remains of what was once the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters towered menacingly over the two fillies, separated from them by a wide chasm. Pumpkin bounded up to the edge and peered over with a dangerous lack of caution, while Sweetie Belle stayed back.

“It's a long way down,” she remarked, and she giggled from the sound her voice made echoing off the walls. She spotted a bridge a little ways along the edge, but the ropes keeping it together had broken on the far end, resulting in the bridge dangling off the cliffside.

“Pumpkin,” asked Sweetie Belle cautiously. “Get away from there,” she commanded, although her voice lacked any sort of authority. “We must have gotten turned around somehow, but we want to get back home.”

Pumpkin turned and stuck her tongue out at the unicorn. “No,” she corrected, “you want to go home. Scootaloo and Apple Bloom want us to go home. I want to go exploring. I want to find these 'element' thingies you kept talking about. Come on, it's an adventure! Adventures are fun!” She laughed heartily.

“I think your white friend has the right idea, little lady.”

Both Sweetie Belle and Pumpkin began looking around them for the sound of the voice. It chuckled, watching them.

“Up here. Not seen many pegasi before, have you?”

He touched down next to Pumpkin, and the small filly looked up at her much larger new friend. She couldn't tell very much about what the stallion looked like, both due to the darkness and the uniform that obscured most of his body. The outift, predominately in black and dark purple, did an excellent job of obscuring him from view; he wasn't a pony as much as a pony shaped hole in the sky.

Still, while Sweetie Belle began to slowly back away, Pumpkin wasn't frightened at all. “So. Cool,” she muttered. “You can fly! That's awesome! Want to be friends?”

The stallion shook his head. “Sorry, little girl,” he said. “But my boss doesn't really like me making new friends. And you better leave before she spots you, or things are gonna get pretty hairy.”

Pumpkin was skeptical. “Hairy like in messy?” she asked. “Or hairy like in actually really hairy? Because then I should probably go get my dad. He could use some more hair; he keeps saying that he's losing his, and I'm thinking, well it shouldn't be hard to find more, should it? It's like, everywhere.” She laughed briefly at her own joke and then quieted almost instantly. “My dad doesn't think I'm very funny,” she quickly appended.

The stallion chuckled again, but this time it was forced, almost sad. “Listen,” he said, the urgency clear in his voice. “The two of you need to turn around and leave. Right now.”

“Listen to him,” warned Sweetie Belle. “I don't care about this adventure. Let's just go home.”

A fourth voice entered the conversation, the strong voice of a fully grown mare. “So many good ideas in this conversation,” she commented before landing right next to the stallion. She was wearing the same uniform, but her bright yellow coat and orange mane were clearly visible where they protruded from the costume. “You really should have listened to them.” She turned to the stallion. “Really, Soarin?” she asked. “You'd really try and betray us like that?”

“They're little fillies, Spitfire,” countered Soarin. “They're harmless. Just give them a little pat on the rump and set them off on their way.”

“Our orders are our orders. You know that.” She took to the air, landing behind Sweetie Belle, who shrieked and fell forward onto her stomach. “The agents of Twilight Sparkle keep getting younger, don't they?”

“For the Queen's sake, Spitfire,” roared Soarin, “they're not Twilight's spies! I bet they don't even know who she is!”

“You mean the enchantress from the mountains who eats ponies' souls?” interjected Pumpkin, desperate to add to the conversation and prove herself knowledgeable.

“See? She's a fairy tale to them.”

“No, we know her!” added Pumpkin, and Sweetie Belle stared, aghast. She began frantically motioning with her arms, signaling for Pumpkin to simply shut up. “She called herself Trixie when we first met her,” the filly continued, and the revelation made Soarin start laughing. “But I found out it was really her later when I overheard my mom talking about her.”

Spitfire began advancing on the pair, and Sweetie Belle backed up as quickly as she could until she was next to Pumpkin, flanked by the two pegasi. She looked up in time to watch Soarin mouth the word, “Sorry,” before the pegasi pinned both of them against the ground.

“You see, Soarin?” argued Spitfire. “These ponies are connected to Twilight. Trixie told us that they'd be coming, and we have a responsibility, a duty to the kingdom to stop them.” She leaned in over the two captives until she was speaking into Soarin's ear. “Or would you rather they do to you what they did to Surprise?”

Soarin shivered.

“Don't try to act like that doesn't scare you,” said Spitfire. “Taking orders is what we're good at. We have the freedom to choose how we carry out those orders, but the second that freedom becomes a liability, she'll take it away. We're her slaves until the day we die, and the peace of death will be our final reward. Sure, what we do isn't always proper. But I'll pay for my crimes in the next life, not a moment sooner. And until then, we have a couple of foals to dispose of.”

Soarin examined Spitfire critically, trying to find a lingering trace of the pony he loved. “What has she done to you?” he asked despondently. “I barely recognize you anymore.”

“She made me desperate to live long enough to die a natural death. Now if you don't want to kill them, then I have another idea.”

At the mention of the word “kill”, Sweetie Belle froze, while Pumpkin began struggling harder.

All that Never Was

Itchy nose.

Weak hip.

Burning stomachache.

Pinkie stopped breathing and shuddered as the chill passed over her, the one symptom not caused by her Pinkie sense. Not directly, at least. The dread knotted inside of her as she began frantically scanning her surroundings for anything askew.

She was in the lower bed of the spare bedroom she had been sharing with Rainbow Dash at the Buraq Flight Academy. The private school hadn’t even been on the original list of locations to search for the other Rainbow Dash, but the more they had dug, the more the clues pointed here. The Rainbow Dash Pinkie knew may never have set hoof on the campus, but clearly things had worked out a little differently in this world. And now, two weeks after their search of digging and scouring for information wherever they could find it, Pinkie knew they were close to finally tracking down the fate of the missing Rainbow.

The room was higher than most rooms Pinkie was used to in Ponyville, likely to give its typically pegasus residents room to fly around in. The bunk beds were not joined by any ladder, and there were bookshelves mounted on the walls well beyond Pinkie’s reach.

Rainbow Dash had graciously offered to sleep in the top bunk.

As the Pinkie sense combination repeated itself, Pinkie desperately wondered where Rainbow Dash had gone off to. It was a combination she hadn’t felt in a long time, not since she left the farm, but she knew, or perhaps felt on some instinctual level, exactly what it meant.

Danger.

Run.

Hide.

Wherever you are, stop being there. Without consciously thinking she acted, scurrying to the door. But before flinging the door wide open and making a mad dash for freedom, she stopped, forcing herself to be careful, deliberate. She pressed an ear against the door and listened.

Hoofbeats. Lots of them, enough to make the sound less of a rhythmic clamor and more of and more of a continuous dull rumble. They weren’t advancing; they were merely shuffling around, waiting.

Pinkie Pie backed away as silently as she could; the door wasn’t an option. Looking around for another way out, she spotted a window near the ceiling. It was closed and scarcely the size of her head, and while the walls were certainly studded with enough furniture, there was nothing that reached all the way to the window. It was an impossible escape.

Pinkie Pie liked those odds.

Seconds later, the door was blown off its hinges by a blast of magic, and a small army of armored pegasi and unicorns filed in, filling the room. Finally, a familiar face brought up the rear. The Great and Powerful Trixie frowned as she scrutinized every corner of the room.

“I don’t understand,” said one of the guards with a chilling demeanor and a sharp icicle for a cutie mark. “She said the earth pony was in here for the night.”

“Then clearly she was wrong, Winter Frost,” condescended Trixie. “I thought that was obvious.”

Winter Frost fidgeted, her cheeks burning. “So what now?” she asked, knowing she was risking another retort from her superior but not knowing what else to do. “Do we wait for her to get back?”

“Well, since we’re already straining your mental faculties just being here, I’ll drop you a bone and just tell you. No. We are not going to wait for her, because she’s not coming back.” Trixie lifted a half-eaten bowl of hot soup from the cafeteria. “She was just here, and left suddenly. I’d say she got word we were coming and fled.

“But how?” asked Winter. “We would have seen her leave. There’s only one door.”

Trixie scowled but didn’t respond. Winter had a point, although Trixie knew better than to admit it. She looked up at the window, considering it. “She’s an earth pony. She couldn’t have,” the unicorn muttered dismissively. “At least we’ve already captured the rainbow freak. We’ll track the pink one down; we will. But sitting on our flanks waiting for her to come back won’t accomplish anything.”

From the safety of the thin railing outside the window, Pinkie watched as the guards dragged Rarity out of the adjacent room she was sharing with Madame Orange and into the circle of guards.

“Where is she?” Rarity screamed. “What have you done with her?”

“Your friend can’t hide forever,” said Trixie. “Keep the white one here,” she addressed the other ponies. “If the pink one comes back for her, capture her too.”

“Why do you always close your eyes when we fly?”

The question disrupted Trixie’s meditation. She hadn’t even realized that she had lost focus, let alone closed her eyes. Thrust back into alertness, she scanned the ground, trying to pinpoint their location. Dry plains of struggling brown grass stretched out uniformly, offering no clues, so Trixie conjured a positioning charm, opening herself to the pull of the planet’s magnetic poles.

“We’re headed in the right direction, at least,” she mused, forgetting the question. She closed her eyes again, getting lost in the rhythmic flapping of her partner’s wings.

“You sound… distracted,” Spike observed.

Trixie nodded, lost in thought. “It’s quiet up here,” she said at last. “Like nothing else is real. Nothing can bother us when we’re in the air. All the problems don’t exist, at least for a while. It’s nice to take a step back and look at the big picture. Can you believe it’s been a month already?”

An entire month since the night she had visited Madame Orange and received the news about the death of Twilight Sparkle. Trixie had expected things to get less hectic after the elimination of the most powerful enemy of the Queen, but it turned out that wrapping up loose ends took time. Madame Orange had kept a close eye on her travelling companions, sending reports back to Trixie about their progress. As soon as Orange had found definite evidence concerning the fate of the Element of Loyalty, Trixie had called in the guards. But somehow Pinkie Pie had managed to escape.

That was two weeks ago. And now Trixie was ready to get her captive back. She pulled a pocket watch from her pouch. “And we’ve still got twenty minutes. Want to just fly around a little while if we get there early?”

“We can’t risk that. We don’t want word getting around about a dragon flying around Appleloosa. At best we’ll incite panic, and at worst we’ll tip them off.”

Trixie knew he was right. Why was she deferring the decision making to him? She was the leader, the tactician. He was the hired help and wingpower. She was off her game, and needed to recover.

“Let’s get this over, then,” she told the dragon as the small settlement came into view in the distance.

Appleloosa, the western settlement founded briefly before the return of the Queen. Apparently, tensions between the settlers and the natives had already been high, and the loss of the sun didn’t help matters much. The scarcity of food and resources for both parties had torn down any attempts at civility, but the railways had long since become inoperable. The isolated settlement quickly fell to anarchy.

“Why would the rebels want to hide out here?” asked Spike.

“Because no one else wants to. Our ally’s in that house there.” She pointed to a rather dilapidated building that was missing part of its roof, but still managed to be in better shape than the rest of the small town. The dragon nodded and touched down gently in the small garden behind the house.

A small gentle drizzle was beginning to fall, which only made Trixie more eager to get out of the rain. She dismounted Spike, who shrunk to the size of an eagle and perched on her back. The pair approached the door, which Trixie opened without knocking.

The mare inside clearly wasn’t expecting visitors, as she jumped as soon as the door opened. She had been sitting on a couch in front of a fireplace, which she now stumbled over as she attempted to reach her guests and make them comfortable.

“You seem in shock, Mrs. Pinova,” Trixie sneered. “Not hiding anything, are we?”

Looking at the earth pony as she struggled to keep her composure, Trixie could tell she was barely holding herself together. But it wasn’t guilt. Just fear.

“I just didn’t know you were coming,” the mare stammered. “It’s been a long time since I was… graced with you. I would have made this place more welcoming, prepared a meal.” She leaned to look past Trixie, and jumped backwards when she saw the dragon riding her.

“We don’t have time to eat anyway,” responded the unicorn. “We’re in a bit of a hurry, you see.”

The mare sighed, relieved, but the motion was not undetected by Trixie, who frowned. The mare yelped and frantically attempted to cover herself. “Is there anything you do need, then?”

Trixie smiled. “A radio would do nicely,” she said. The mare nodded and turned away, moving on unsteady legs to reach the crystal radio on her table. It was a small circular machine, similar in shape to the Columbus devices, but with a crude speaker mounted on the top of it, and a dial on the side.

“I was just wondering,” she said as she grabbed the radio in her hoof, “I mean, if it’s not too much trouble, how my son is doing.”

Trixie advanced and took the radio from her. “Braeburn’s doing fine,” she answered. “And the more you help us, the sooner we can arrange his release.” The mare nodded and smiled nervously, backing away from the unicorn as soon as the device was out of her hooves.

Trixie placed the radio on the table and began fiddling with the dial. Static crackled from the speakers but slowly settled into a low hum.

Even though Trixie wasn’t obsessively preoccupied with elegance when it came to magic, she was still able to recognize and appreciate it. And the design of the crystal radio was indeed elegant. Since it absorbed the energy from the radio signal itself, it didn’t need a unicorn or an expensive magic battery to power it. Magic in the hooves of earth ponies was an admirable accomplishment.

“Time?” she asked Spike, who leaned over into her saddlebag and pulled out her watch.

“Three minutes. Cutting it a little close, aren’t we?”

“Close enough. That’s what matters.”

Technically, she didn’t need to hear the broadcast. It was the same message every day for almost a week now. She just wanted to make sure that it was still playing, that the proposition it contained hadn’t been withdrawn.

Three minutes later, the radio squeaked and fell back into static, but after a couple seconds, a voice came through with surprising clarity.

“Hello, Equestria!”

Trixie grimaced. The voice almost felt like it was digging into her with its sharpness. She hadn’t even met the pony and she hated her already. But there was something else in the broadcast, something that Trixie hadn’t been able to pick up on until the second listen.

It was the mare’s peppiness. Her cheerfulness that almost seemed in denial of the world around her. Except no, maybe not denial, thought Trixie. The exact opposite, perhaps, acceptance. She didn’t know whether to feel smugly superior or jealous.

“This is Pinkie Pie! I got separated from my friends and it’s very very super-duper important that I find them again. Twilight, Twilight, if either of you are hearing this, I’m hiding out in Appleloosa where I kind of broke into this radio tower that nopony is really using anymore! Meet me in front of the radio building in an hour so I can explain everything.”

Trixie was grinning from ear to ear when the broadcast returned to static. She may have escaped from them once, but it wasn’t going to happen again.

This was just too easy.

Rarity didn't look up when she heard the heavy iron door groan open. She didn't have to. Only one pony ever came to visit. She closed her eyes and turned her head away, a display of defiance that was ruined somewhat by the shackles that kept her along the far wall of the cell. Every time she moved, she could feel them rubbing against her hooves, leaving streaks of dirt.

The dirt was easily the worst part. It was bad enough that she was chained up in the dark, but the living conditions were simply unbearable! The dust on the floor was now stuck in her coat, and she just knew she had fleas in multiple locations. She knew that if she ran a prison, she would never treat its occupants with such reckless contempt and disregard for basic living accommodations.

The sound of hoofbeats approached, and the cell door swung open.

“Hello, Rarity,” said Madame Orange, and Rarity ignored the pitiful attempt at sounding sorrowful. Orange may have been a smooth talker, but in the time they had known each other, Rarity had very quickly discovered that the other mare was a terrible liar.

“Get lost,” responded the unicorn. “I'm busy.”

Orange looked around the empty cell. “Clearly,” she commented. “But I want to talk to you.”

“It won't help.” Madame Orange was startled by the bluntness of the response. “The answer's no, Orange,” continued Rarity.

“You didn't even know the question.”

“You want me to surrender and swear allegiance to Nightmare Moon. Once I've done that, you're going to convince Trixie to let me go and live with you, where you can keep a watchful eye on me, and we both get to live happily ever after.” She snorted, disgusted. “No thanks. This dungeon's still more nurturing then you. You're an open book, Orange, now that I know how to read you. You can't deceive to save your life. Not anymore.” She chuckled. “Funny, that. You could have made an amazing Element of Honesty, if you weren't busy being chained to your Queen.”

“I'm not the one in chains.”

“You really believe that, don't you?”

Orange rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said. “But I have neither the need nor the desire to deceive you. We're on the same side.”

Rarity laughed, the fake irritating laughter that ground into Madame's ears like sandpaper. “Sweet Celestia,” Rarity finally managed between chuckles, after the laughter seemed like it had gone on for ages. “You actually believe that, don't you? That we've really been on the same side all along and I was just too stupid to notice. Silly me! I guess that you killing Twilight was just your way of saying 'Let's be friends!' And here I was thinking that murder made you one of the bad guys! Maybe I'm just too much of a small town girl to understand the true complexities of politics. Glad you got away from that boring old life, aren't you?”

Madame Orange snarled, fuming. “If you want to actually come to an understanding, then stop whining!”

Rarity finally opened one of her eyes. “We're not getting into that distinction again,” she said promptly, before shutting it again. “Besides, I don't need an understanding. I need you to get out of my cell.”

Orange sighed and approached her prisoner, gently placing a hoof on Rarity's shoulder. “Please...” she began, but she was interrupted as Rarity's eyes snapped open and she launched at the earth pony, her jaw thrashing wildly. She succeeded in only impacting their skulls, and Orange fell over backwards, quickly scuttling away from the wall and out of Rarity's reach.

“Don't touch me,” Rarity screeched. “Don't you dare ever touch me again, or I'll eviscerate you.”

Orange felt her heart lurch wildly from the shock as she screamed in terror and surprise. Rarity was pulling at her chains now, trying to get closer to her captor. Orange had no doubt about her intent to carry out her threat. This had definitely not gone according to plan, thought Orange as she seized up, overcome and at wits end.

Rarity examined the other pony disdainfully. “Oh no,” she muttered. “Please don't tell me you're crying. That's pathetic, you know? You're the one holding the cards, and I'm the one chained to a brick wall. You don't have any right to be crying right now.”

Orange tried to breathe evenly through her sobs, although she found it difficult. “You have to... change your mind,” she managed. “If you don't...”

“Yes, yes, if I don't then Nightmare Moon will stop humoring you and just do to me what she's done to all the other ponies that conspire against her. I'm the only pony in this dungeon, at your request. Because you're ignorant enough to think that Nightmare Moon owes you a favor, foolish enough to try to extort one from her, and dumb enough to think that I would ever agree to it.”

Orange frantically tried to recover. “I'm important to her,” she stammered. “I help her.”

“Well then, you can just go right on believing that until the day she disposes of you. Let me make this as clear as I possibly can, Orange. I despise you. I have absolutely no conviction that Nightmare Moon will give either of us a free pass, and I'm even less convinced that I want one if it comes from a blind, desperate, and selfish pony like you. I'll struggle as much as I can, but I'll sooner submit to whatever your boss has planned than even contemplate what it would be like to owe you a favor.”

Orange stepped away cautiously, returning to the door. “You say that,” she said. “But I don't think you realize just what you'd be going through. Maybe a demonstration is in order.” She opened the cell door again, but instead of leaving, another pony entered.

“Maybe it's time to reintroduce you to an old friend.”

Rarity wasn’t sure what she was looking at at first. The new pony was dressed in the same armor as the ponies that had captured her and Rainbow, undecorated but sturdy, armor that Rarity could imagine being mass-produced easily. The lack of any consideration for style was almost an assault to her sensibilities, but she was much more concerned with the pony in the armor. Although the helmet covered most of the mare’s head, locks of rainbow mane still poked through.

And her gait, Rarity thought. She had noticed something off about Rainbow’s movements, and it took her until they were almost face to face to realize that the Pegasus was moving with an unnatural stiffness.

“What did you do to her?” asked Rarity, appalled. “She looks… empty.”

“Just a small modification to her mind,” explained Orange. “Standard procedure for the ponies who give us trouble. I know you’ve seen them around the castle, but I don’t think you fully grasp the work that goes into them. Consider this an up close and personal demonstration.”

“How many of them are there?” asked Rarity.

“I don’t keep count. There are records, somewhere. I’m sure the other me has explained to you the importance of keeping track of your cattle.”

“And you brainwashed all of them?”

“The brain is just a machine, really. It may be complex, organic, self-repairing and self-modifying, but it still has structure and rules. It’s really just one step up from a Spell Matrix. If you know the weakest entry point, you can work your way into the system and change anything. This spell was designed by the Queen herself during the war of Endless Night. She was looking to make the prisoners of war useful, and she stumbled upon a way to easily and completely hijack the pony mind. It’s a small change, minor really. Just a tiny insertion at a critical point in the decision-making process.”

“This is inhumane,” said Rarity. “I thought you were trying to convince me that you aren’t the monster I think you are.”

“I’m not,” said Orange, stung by the accusation. “None of this is my doing. If I were to walk away, all it would still happen without me. But being on the inside, I at least have some control over what happens, some freedom in my life. You know how that expression goes, about what to do when you can’t beat them. What I’m trying to teach you is that it’s better to be in the middle than on the bottom. I may not have much, but it’s a great deal more than Rainbow Dash. So who would you rather join?”

Rarity considered her options. “What did you do to her, exactly?” she finally asked. “What did you change in her?”

“Her priorities. We are assaulted every day by orders and commands. Advertising. Internal biological needs. But we don’t listen to them all, do we? We don’t buy every single item we see marketed in the paper. We know enough to resist temptation when it’s disadvantageous. Because we weigh them and filter the bad ones out. We balance the metaphorical carrot of pleasure, of satisfaction, with the rod of pain and disappointment. And these feelings are mitigated or amplified depending on their target. To whom do we owe our minds and bodies? Who have we disappointed? Who must we never disappoint?”

“And your spell upsets that balance,” figured Rarity. “It changes who you don’t want to disappoint.”

“Well, not me,” answered Orange. “They wouldn’t use it on me. They can’t risk fogging up my mind. And it’s not my spell. It’s the Queen’s. It’s Trixie’s. It’s what they do to ponies who are no longer useful for anything but simple orders and brute force.”

“And it’s what Nightmare Moon is going to do to me unless I become your pet?”

“My equal,” Orange corrected. “My ally. I want you to be on my side, Rarity. I want you to like me, to appreciate me.”

“And the truth finally comes out,” declared Rarity with a haughty chuckle. “You’re not happy because you don’t have a soul who cares about you. No family. No friends. And along comes a golden opportunity, and you capture her, betray her, and then you try to hold onto her for yourself. You are so thick, Applejack. You think you’re the victim. You think no one loves you in spite of all the work you’ve done, when in reality, everyone hates you because of it. You’re like a spoiled child who demands to be worshipped and can’t understand why no one will. You expect to receive friends and adoration when you won’t offer anything in return. But what you still haven’t learned is that there is no quota for allies. Friendship is not a right, and not everyone deserves it. And I have no sympathy for anypony conceited, stubborn, and ignorant enough to think otherwise. I may have class, Applejack, but I understand the responsibility that comes with it. You, on the other hoof, seem to think that class is a cause for respect, not a product of it. I despise ponies like you.”

Orange looked like she was ready to cry again. She shuddered as she took a couple steps back from Rarity, not making eye contact.

“Seriously?” asked Rarity. “You must be thicker skinned than that. Losing the respect of one pony is no reason to lose composure.” A realization dawned on her. “Why am I so important?” she asked. “What’s so special about me that you, a mare on top of the world, can’t find elsewhere? I thought you were happy working for Nightmare Moon? After all, you chose her over the rest of us, so don’t act like this is some sort of injustice. You captured me. You brainwashed Rainbow Dash.” She nodded her head toward the pegasus, who hadn’t even moved throughout the whole tirade. “Can she even talk?” she asked. “Or did you clip her tongue too?”

Orange managed to stop whimpering long enough to answer. “Nothing that drastic,” she said. “She’s really not all that different from the mare you knew.” She turned to address Rainbow. “Rainbow Dash? How are you feeling today?”

The rainbow pegasus finally reacted. She focused on Orange, as if she were finally noticing her surroundings for the first time. “Better than this morning,” she answered, much more casually than Rarity was expecting. She almost sounded normal, but there was just that slight absence of… inflection, Rarity supposed, as if the words were formed without any regard for emotion. “I’m still tired, but I think I’m ready to try and make a Rainboom again.”

Orange smiled at Rarity, gesturing at the pegasus and putting her on display. “See? She’s still Rainbow Dash, provided being her doesn’t get in the way too much. Good job, Rainbow Dash.”

Rarity was surprised at what happened next. In response to Orange’s compliment, Rainbow Dash visibly relaxed, her rigid posture breaking. “It’s important to please important ponies,” she muttered, as if reading from a script. “My service is its own reward.”

Orange grinned, offering Rainbow a pat on the back. “I’m glad you think that way,” she said. “And I appreciate your honesty about your exhaustion. Honesty is more important than rashness.” Rainbow seemed to relax further with each compliment, as if being praised by Madame Orange was the most satisfying thing in the world.

“Except for one small thing, Rainbow…”

The mare instantly tensed again. She grunted softly as she lost her focus momentarily. “Yes?” she asked, a bit wary of the response.

“Try not to refer to yourself when you talk unless it’s necessary. You’re part of a group now, remember?”

Rainbow Dash hung her head in shame. “I’m sorry, Madame,” she said, and to Rarity she looked genuinely pained and remorseful. “I mean, it won’t happen again.”

“Rainbow Dash?” Rarity finally had the nerve to ask. “What’s going on?”

Rainbow finally noticed her. “Rarity?” she asked, surprised. “What are you doing in here?” As if she were waking up from a deep sleep, she began to turn quickly, taking in her surroundings and realizing where she was. “What’s Rarity doing in the dungeons?” she asked Orange. “She’s a friend.”

Her head kept whipping back and forth between the two ponies, her breath quickening and she was driven into a frenzy by her two conflicting loyalties.

“Bad.”

The command broke through the confusion, not because of its volume, but because of the immediate effect it had on Rainbow Dash, who dropped to the floor with a cry of agony.

“Bad. Only answer questions asked by your superiors. When dealing with those below you, you are the one who should be asking questions. That is your place.”

“But Rarity’s a friend…” Rainbow managed to say between her clenched teeth.

“Not yet,” reprimanded Orange. “She’s a traitor. She’s our prisoner. And you will treat her as such. Do you understand?”

“But she’s…”

“No. Bad,” and Rainbow screamed again.

Rarity had seen enough. “Stop it!” she cried. “Whatever you’re doing, stop!”

Orange sighed. “That’s enough,” she told Rainbow Dash. “We’re done here. You can go.”

The Pegasus shakily got to her hoove, nodded, and left.

“You see?” Orange asked Rarity afterward. “It’s not exactly a pleasant experience.”

“Like she knows any better,” said Rarity bitterly. “I’m not saying that’s a fate I’d wish on me or anypony, but she thinks she’s doing good. The old Rainbow Dash is scarcely there to hate the new one. As punishments go, there are worse ones to endure.”

Orange didn’t buy it. “Oh, I assure you there’s enough of her left. Enough for the real her to be fully aware of what’s happening. But it’s not just the loss of her body that hurts her. It’s more than the loss of free will. It’s the perversion, making you want something you know you shouldn’t want. The shame and self-loathing of an addict. That’s what we instill in her. That’s what we can do to you.”

“And what exactly do you plan to do to me, once I become your doll?”

Orange frowned, now trying to maintain her calm. “I wouldn’t want that for you, Rarity, surely you understand that. And if Trixie and the Queen were to hijack your mind, I wouldn’t try to claim you. That would be… hideous. Mortifying. Believe it or not, I care about your well-being. Taking advantage of your altered state out of the false conviction that you wouldn’t be tortured by your new existence, that would be cruel and barbaric. It wouldn’t be moral, and it wouldn’t make either of us happy.”

“I think the chance for morality and happiness has passed long ago,” Rarity muttered.

“And that may be,” replied Orange. “But we do all we can to make the best of things, don’t we?”

“I do. You seem hell-bent on torturing yourself.”

Orange ground her teeth at the accusation. “That’s not true,” she retorted, but the energy had long since left her. Surrendering, she backed away to the door of the cell. “That’s not true. Forget about me trying to save you. When Trixie comes to turn your brain into sludge, remember who offered you a way out.”

Rarity backed up against the wall and closed her eyes again, resuming the same meditative pose she had been in when Orange had first arrived. “And you can remember that you’ve always had a way out,” she responded. “We all just know you’re too chicken to make it.”

“This conversation is over.”

“Agreed.”

The door to the cell slammed shut. A few seconds later, the iron dungeon door closed noisily, leaving Rarity once again alone in the dungeon.

“So, what do you think?” asked Spike when they were a block away from the radio tower. “Trap?”

“Definitely.” Trixie stopped walking and examined the aged wooden building from afar. Any paint had long since been worn away, leaving behind a mess of splinters riddled with holes. “You think this is the place?” she asked the dragon curled around her neck. He was smaller than his normal size now, long and thin like a lizard. Size changing, while certainly a useful tactic for battle or intimidation, also just generally made things more comfortable for travel.

Spike scanned the building before looking up at his partner bemusedly. “Not questioning,” he said, “but to just get things straight, you think this is a trap.”

“Of course.”

“And we’re going to walk into a building that’s obviously trapped.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Okay.” Spike planned his next words carefully, not wanting to embarrass himself. “Not to sound stupid, but… why?”

“Because it won’t work,” answered Trixie smugly. “She doesn’t know what we’re capable of. There’s no way she could plan for everything. Even on her home turf, she can’t win.”

“So that’s the plan?” asked Spike. “Just walk in?”

“Pretty much. Now hide. We’re going in.”

Spike nodded and climbed on top of Trixie’s head, shrinking down even smaller until he was hidden in her mane. Trixie focused on her reserves of magic, casting the one spell that would give her the perfect advantage.

Her coat rustled from an unfelt breeze as it darkened, changing from light blue to violet. Her cloak seemed to vanish into nothing. Her mane retreated backwards, a single stripe appearing down the side. Her cutie mark vanished, to be replaced by a six-pointed star surrounded by five others.

Twilight Sparkle grinned maliciously. This was going to be fun.

From atop a cloud hanging conspicuously above the radio tower, a violet earth pony sat atop a heavily garbed pegasus. The two of them watched as the purple unicorn approached the building, and a pink earth pony bounded out of the front door to meet her.

“What do you think?” asked the pegasus. “That’s her, right?”

“Definitely,” said Silver Shield with a grin. “It’s been far too long. I’ve really been looking forward to this reunion.”

Masquerade

“Ooh, how's your scar doing?” asked Pinkie Pie. “Gilda really did a number on you when she attacked you in the library.”

The intent of the question was fairly obvious to her. Too obvious. “What are you talking about, Pinkie?” answered Trixie, trying to provide enough inflection to sound genuinely befuddled. “Gilda found us in the mountains, near other me's secret base. It was Silver Shield that was hiding in the library.”

She thanked Madame Orange's detailed spoilers for helping her to answer the question. Trixie had been sure to prod her for as much information as possible, and she was now fully confident in her ability to impersonate Twilight.

“Oh, right,” said Pinkie, giggling. “Silly me.”

“It's fine,” said Trixie congenially. Trixie's opinion of the pink mare was still yet to be determined. On one hoof, Pinkie had attempted to confirm Twilight's identity with a question. On the other hoof, however, the attempt was not only painfully obvious, but it also pertained to knowledge that could easily be learned or picked up by a keen observer. If the question had been more personal, Trixie wasn't sure if she would have known the answer. However, since she hadn't been expecting Pinkie to ask at all, she hadn't felt the need to prepare. The end result, she reminded herself, still tipped the odds in her favor. If Pinkie Pie had any suspicions about the identity of the mare before her, those concerns had been alleviated.

“I wanted to go back and save Rarity and Rainbow Dash and Appleorangejack,” explained Pinkie Pie. “I really did. A friend that doesn’t help a friend in need isn’t really a friend at all. But then I realized that I was the only one who even knew that Trixie was bad! I mean, we all knew she was bad in our world, but she wasn’t really this bad. It was going to take more than a party to try to change her attitude. She’d need like, a total attitude makeover. While holding my friends hostage! Can you believe that? So while I really wanted to help them, I knew that if I got caught, it was all over for Pinkie Pie. And besides, you don’t ignore a Pinkie Sense feeling. When it tells you to run, you run. And so I ran. I knew I needed to find you.

“But now I have found you! And I got the perfect idea on how we’re going to capture Trixie and rescue Rarity, too! By doing the exact same thing she tried to do to me!”

Trixie feigned curiosity. “And what would that be?” she asked, pretending it wasn’t obvious.

“We’re going to set a trap for her!” answered Pinkie Pie. “When I was looking for you, I decided to kill two birds with one stone! Except not kill, because that would be messy, and I don’t want to kill anypony! Maim them maybe, but I don’t know if the expression still works that way, so…”

The two of them were sitting up against the bar at the Salt Lick, Appleloosa’s most popular pub. It seemed that no matter what had happened to Appleloosa, it hadn’t stopped drinking from being a popular pastime. The room was crowded with ponies getting rowdy, each of their individual discussions getting lost in the sea of noise. Despite the large number of ponies there, it seemed unlikely that they would be overheard.

According to Pinkie Pie, over a drink was the only real way to discuss schemes, and Trixie begrudgingly accepted. Not wanting to impair her awareness, however, she had been sure to just order water, assuming (correctly) that the behavior was still consistent with the self-conscious Twilight.

Pinkie looked at “Twilight” sipping from her glass of water and giggled. “You sure you don’t want something more exciting?”

“I’m fine, Pinkie,” Trixie assured her. “Now what’s the plan to capture Trixie?”

Pinkie Pie laughed. “Oh, you’ll see! But when we hijacked that old radio transmitter, we knew Trixie would probably pick up on the signal. So we prepared for it! And now that you’re here, you can help us! It’s like a big reunion, and we’re going to need everything we can to take down Trixie.”

Trixie weighed her options carefully. She needed to bring Pinkie Pie back into custody, but in doing so she would ruin her element of surprise. And right now her cover would be valuable, especially if Pinkie had told somepony else whatever it was that she knew. Reconnaissance came first.

“A reunion?” she asked, her curiosity piqued. “Who else have you gathered?”

“Not many of us,” Pinkie Pie admitted, “but enough to take on Queen Meanie and her gang. We’re going to capture Little Meanie and force her to tell us how to rescue Rarity and Rainbow Dash and Appleorange.”

“Yes,” said Trixie, beginning to become frustrated. “But where are they? What’s the plan?”

Pinkie Pie opened her mouth to answer, but before she spoke she spotted something behind Trixie and leaped up excitedly. “Hey!” she cried. “Over here!”

“Pinkie,” growled Trixie. “We’re in hiding. Let’s not make a scene.” But she turned and followed Pinkie Pie’s gaze. To her surprise, Madame Orange had just entered the bar and was heading toward them.

She corrected herself when she saw that Orange was wearing only a cowboy hat, and her cutie mark had changed from the martini to three apples.

Knowing that a double of Orange was running around didn’t make it any more awkward or fascinating when Trixie finally got a chance to meet her face to face. So much of her was familiar, including the way she smiled at Pinkie Pie as she approached. Orange’s cheeky grin seemed pasted on a body that, while certainly reminiscent, had its differences. This mare had a much stockier build, and she appeared more confident. She may have had the same face with the same smile, but that smile somehow looked more sincere.

Applejack’s eyes widened as she stopped at the table. “Gosh, Twilight. Is that really you? It’s been so long I was worried I was never gonna see you again.”

“Really?” asked Trixie, trying to act as excited and relieved as Applejack was. “And why’s that? Did you hear that something bad had happened to me?”

“No. Worse,” said Applejack. “We hadn’t heard anything about you.”

“Well worry no more. I’m here, safe and sound. Pinkie Pie was just about to explain how you were planning to capture Trixie when she arrives.”

“Alright, alright,” said Applejack as she sat down next to her. “Tone down the theatrics and I’ll show ya what we’re planning.”

Trixie shut up, realizing she’d been perhaps been straying a bit too far from her role. Stupid Twilight. Who didn’t enjoy a good showmareship?

“I suppose I should tell ya what’s happened since we last saw ya, and what we’re doing all the way out in Appleloosa.”

Neither Applejack nor Rarity spoke as Applejack packed what scant belongings she had into a small knapsack. Finally, Applejack stopped, scowled at the sack, and upturned it, spilling the contents.

“I can’t do this,” she said. “I can’t take any of this, not after what’s happened. It wouldn’t be fair. I came with nothing, and I’m gonna leave with it too.”

“You have helped us, Applejack,” insisted Rarity. “A lot. We don’t blame you for what happened.”

“And yet you’re still kicking me out,” said Applejack, not bitterly, but as a statement of fact. “You might not blame me,” she muttered as she neatly sorted out the foodstuffs and the scarf. “But Pinkamena sure does.”

“Pinkamena will… recover,” mumbled Rarity. “I hope. And it’s nothing personal against you. It’s just, well, you’ve got a lot on your plate. And now it seems like you have enemies too. You’re a target for danger, Applejack, and my family needs to be as safe as possible.”

“It’s not just that I need help, though,” said Applejack. “I need your help, specifically. Even once I find the elements, not just anypony can use them. You and Pinkie can, even if you don’t think you fit the bill.”

Rarity sighed. “I know. And I believe you. I think you’re a brave pony, and I wish you well in your journey, but I still can’t come with you. My family is my top priority. You must have a family, back in your own world. Surely you understand.”

Applejack remembered the faces of the other members of the Apple family under Rarity’s care. “Yeah,” she said dreamily. “Ah do understand. I think you’re doing an amazing job looking after everypony, and I’m not gonna put a stop to that. They’re not just your family now, ya hear? They’re mine, too, and I know when my family’s in good hooves.” She hugged Rarity. “It’s funny to think about, the fact that we’re family. Never thought it would happen in a million years. But you know what? I don’t mind that much. I think Big Mac’s good for you. And you’re great for him. I couldn’t have asked for a better sister-in-law.”

Rarity gasped and pulled back from the embrace. “Idea!” she exclaimed. “If you’re not going to take anything with you, I do have one thing. Consider it a parting gift.” She left and returned carrying a very familiar hat.

“Is that my Stetson?” asked Applejack skeptically, not allowing herself to become too excited. “I thought I lost that in the mountains.”

“Not exactly. If there’s more than one you, there’s more than one hat. It used to belong to your father, right? And he gave it to you when you were old enough. But the other you refused it. I think it’s rightfully yours.”

Applejack took the hat reluctantly, turning it over in her hooves. It really was the same hat, marred with the same blemishes and stitches as her own. “Thanks. I won’t forget your hospitality.”

“And I won’t forget your commitment to helping us,” responded Rarity. “Even if we won’t be by your side, I’ll be rooting for you all the way. And once you save the world, come back here and we’ll have a toast to your success.”

Applejack decided to end things with a hoofshake. “I still owe ya one,” she told Rarity.

“Nonsense. If you actually manage to save the world, I think that will be payment enough.”

With the past events weighing on her mind, Applejack left the farm behind her, more determined than ever to set things right.

Applejack marched deeper into the Everfree Forest, pushing aside the thick branches and brambles that assaulted her with every step. She could barely see in front of her, and the darkness weighed down on her. She knew better than to be scared of the dark, or to honestly believe that darkness was some sort of tangible muck, but when roots and tree trunks could hide away until they were upon her, she couldn’t help but feel tormented by such a secretive non-entity. And that was not to mention the native creatures.

Going alone was never her original plan, and it seemed even more foolish now that she knew somepony was after her. There was an alternative available, she knew. Rainbow Dash had given her a machine that had supposedly come from Applejack’s alternate self. The Columbus Device, it had been called. For emergencies. After hearing Rarity’s depiction of the other Applejack, though, the earth pony was skeptical. If this situation could at all be resolved without getting her dubious counterpart involved, then the risks would be worth it.

Besides, who knew if the attackers were still even there? According to Rarity’s story, there were two of them, and well…

There was a good chance Pinkamena had scared the remaining one off, and it would take her time to organize reinforcements. If anything, this was the moment to get in, find the elements, and get out.

She pondered the mystery of the attackers as she trod the path toward the old castle. The question of who was after them was easily solvable: Nightmare Moon, or one of her lackeys. But did she always have the castle guarded, or had the information of Applejack’s plans somehow been discovered? And if the latter turned out to be the case, how were the plans leaked? She recalled Rainbow’s skepticism about the other Rarity’s trustworthiness. She remembered her promise that she wouldn’t tell the other Rarity who she really was.

“Sometimes plans change,” Applejack muttered to herself, but the rest of her self-discussion was cut short as she emerged out into the field overlooking the chasm, the abandoned and desecrated palace emerging in the distance. It was almost exactly as Applejack remembered it from two years ago. A brief incline led up to the sudden drop, where the river thundered far below.

And just like two years ago, the bridge was out.

Sometimes plans change. Applejack berated herself for not considering the bridge. Rainbow may have fixed it in their own timeline, but in this world, nopony had even been near the castle for decades, at least.

She cautiously made her way to the edge and peered over. While the side of the chasm was maybe jagged enough to find hoof-holds, she wasn’t certain about its stability. Climbing down was too risky, and jumping across was simply impossible. Applejack quickly realized that the best course of action was to follow the edge along until another opportunity presented itself.

A couple minutes after Applejack left the path, she began to realize that she was headed downhill. Looking over the edge, she noted that the drop did appear to be a little shallower. Emboldened, she pressed onward, the sound of the river gradually getting louder, emerging from the background to become the dominant sound.

The ground ended suddenly, although the slope here was more manageable than the chasm, and Applejack was able to find the hoof-holds to descend. The ground at the bottom was nearly level with the river, and Applejack was preparing to test the waters when she spotted the ponies downstream.

Noticing first and foremost the black and purple Shadowbolts uniforms, she considered heading into the forest and getting out of sight. Another part of her told her to confront them, and get some information out of them. After what they did, Applejack knew she wouldn’t feel bad if she roughed them up a little bit. Common sense was quick to remind her that one earth pony against two pegasi wasn’t exactly an even fight, and she was about to give them a wide berth when she finally noticed their behavior. Neither of them was moving.

Curiosity getting the better of her, she tried to get a better view. She ran into the trees, moving around them in a wide arc until she could see them from a better angle. She was now able to clearly make out the profile of the mare, who was sitting over the prone stallion. After a moment’s confusion, she realized that she recognized both of the figures.

She made the judgment call to step out of the darkness. “Spitfire?”

The mare turned toward the source of her name, but noticing Applejack, she huffed and turned back to Soarin.

Applejack moved closer, noticing with slight repulsion the state of Soarin. He hadn’t moved at all, and now that Applejack could see the damage done to his head, it was clear that he wasn’t going to.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, allowing Spitfire to have her moment. Back in her own world, Applejack had only met the mare once, at the Best Young Flyer’s competition. The two weren’t close at all. But she felt an inexplicable connection to the grieving mare.

“I’m sorry,” Applejack finally said, breaking the silence.

“I should have come back for him,” moaned Spitfire. “When he wasn’t right behind me, I assumed he had turned himself in, not… oh, gods. He probably didn’t put up a fight, either. I think part of him wanted this. He joked about it a lot, about how he’d finally figured out how to escape from it all. And sometimes I tried to laugh with him, because I wanted him to keep joking, keep smiling, keep laughing, ‘cause it was all I had left. But I never brought it up, because I was so afraid that he meant it that I just pretended he didn’t. And now I’m not going to hear him laugh again. I’m going to miss him so much.”

Applejack couldn’t help but pity Spitfire. But looking at Soarin’s broken body was beginning to unnerve her. “We should bury him,” she said. “I’ll help.”

Spitfire ignored her.

“It should have been me,” she said. “He always tried his best to smile, through everything. He never wanted to do the things we did. He fought them. He didn’t let them break him. And when I think about how hard that must have been for him, while I took the easy way out and followed orders blindly, I know that he deserved to live, not me. And I took that away from him.”

“You didn’t do this,” said Applejack sternly. “Nightmare Moon did. She’s the one you’re working for, right?”

“Forget the Queen. I don’t care anymore. She told us to come out here and put an end to somepony. That pony was you, wasn’t it? You’re the one we were supposed to kill, not a couple of innocent little foals. I was the one who suggested we follow orders anyway, because that’s what I knew. And he’s the one that paid. For nothing.”

“I wouldn’t say nothing,” said Applejack, trying to make the best of a bad situation. “Sounds like he never cared much for the way things are either. But in the end, he finally got what he wanted.”

Spitfire glared at Applejack with contempt. “You never knew him. Tell me, what did he want?”

“You. He finally knocked some sense into you. And that’s only nothing if you let it be nothing. You wanna to do right by him? Help us.”

Spitfire eyed the newcomer critically. “You’re working for Twilight Sparkle, aren’t you? The rebellion? How can I help you?”

“Well, to start, we’re looking for a piece of magic that can save Equestria. And to get to it, we need to fix a bridge.”

Applejack reached into her saddlebag and removed a smooth round stone. “And we found them. Or, one of them, at least. There was only one Element in there. Don’t even know which one it is. The others are Celestia-knows-where. Which is why we were hoping to get in touch with you, seeing as you were trying to get ahold of Celestia and all.”

“Tried and failed,” said Trixie honestly. “Sorry to let you down, Applejack.”

Applejack smiled. “That’s okay. It’s still nice to see you again. And we’re gonna have to stick together if we want to have any chance of winning this war. So after I ran into Pinkie, we broke into the radio tower to send out the SOS. I remembered the station from the last time I visited Brae, but we discovered it wasn’t being used no more. So we hightailed it down to Appleloosa and figured if they weren’t missing it, we could put our own message in its place. Like I said, we were really worried about you. We hadn’t heard back from you in forever, and our own plans had gone south. We thought maybe you’d been captured. So with no sort of rendezvous and no backup plans, we took matter into our own hooves and cried for help. It was risky, we knew, ‘cuz if Twilight could get the message than so could anypony working for Nightmare Moon. But then we thought we could use that to our advantage by laying a trap.”

Applejack removed a map of Appleloosa from her bags and unfolded it on the table. She pointed to the bar.

“This is where we are now.” She then pointed to the radio tower, and a building close to it that had been circled in ink. “We’ve been waiting at the same place and time every night. Course, when Trixie shows up she’s gonna get there even earlier, thinking she’s gonna catch us off guard. We get there, see her, and run. She chases us just a few doors down. She follows us in, thinking we’re cornered, and then we spring the trap.”

Pinkie nodded excitedly. “I made this big giant contraption! As soon as Trixie steps in the doorway, Applejack pulls the lever and a cage springs up around her. And then she’s trapped!”

“That’s it?” said Trixie, incredulously. “That’s your plan to capture her? A cage? Won’t she just bust her way out of it with magic?”

“Not if we build it out of crystal,” said Applejack.

Trying to act impressed was the most difficult challenge of Trixie’s career. “That’s a brilliant plan!” she said with as much sincerity as she could muster. In truth it was a ridiculously stupid plan. While a perfectly smooth crystal would reflect magical energy, there was nothing that would stop magic that didn’t affect the crystals itself, like teleportation or a strength spell. If this was their plan, it was tremendously short-sighted.

“But you’re only going to capture one pony that way. What if she brought backup?”

“She won’t. If she’s anything like the Trixie we knew, she’ll be tryin’ to handle this one on her own.”

Trixie wasn’t entirely out of questions. “Why didn’t you use the signaling device your own counterpart gave you?”

“The bird-calling doohickey?” Applejack leaned in close and lowered her voice. “Don’t you go hollering this to the hilltops, Twilight, but I don’t really trust other me. Especially considering what she did to the farm and all. We’ll get to her when we’re good and ready.”

Pinkie Pie set her bottle of sarsaparilla back down on the bar, disrupting the conversation between Applejack and Trixie. “Uh oh,” Trixie heard her whisper.

“Uh oh? Uh oh what?”

“Don’t look now, but I don’t think you were the only one to get the message.”

Trixie was confused. “You mean Trixie’s here?” she asked. Her thoughts were racing, trying to figure out what had startled Pinkie Pie. Had the real Twilight shown up? That wasn’t possible. They were both dead. Orange had made sure of it.

“No,” said Pinkie Pie. “This might be worse. To your left.”

Trixie turned, pretending to try and get the attention of the bartender. She quickly discovered that there were a lot of ponies to her left, and none of them looked familiar.

She swore. Pinkie was clearly expecting her to notice whatever had set her on edge. One of those ponies was familiar to Pinkie, and should be familiar to Twilight too. Trixie felt the panic welling up inside of her, and she pushed it down. No. She’d been trained better than to go hysterical at the first sign of a problem.

There were a couple of tables along the far wall. A group of rowdy earth ponies in the first booth were listening raptly to a pegasus who was probably sharing a daring story with all the details blown out of proportion. The second table was occupied by a couple who were a bit too preoccupied with each other to be considered any sort of threat. The last table only had one occupant, a violet earth pony with a bad attitude. He finished brooding over his cup of tea and looked up, his eyes quickly finding Trixie. Trixie looked away as she realized that he was indeed watching them. And now he knew they had seen him.

Trixie didn’t like being out of the loop. But she couldn’t ask without giving herself away. Still, she thought, she could still get out of this is she played her cards right.

“What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” said Applejack, “but we better come up with something fast.”

The stallion, having noticed them, had gotten up from his table and was walking toward them, trying to move with the crowd as to not cause any sort of disruption.

“What’s everypony worried about?” asked Trixie, not understanding their concern. “A minute ago you were ready to take on a unicorn. And he’s just an earth pony. We can take him.”

When neither Applejack nor Pinkie Pie immediately responded, Trixie realized they were staring at her. Had she said something wrong?

“But what about the last time you faced him when he totally beat you and held you hostage and almost finished you?” Pinkie asked, with what Trixie decided was probably a little too much excitement given the topic. “He’s mean and tough and smart too.”

Trixie was skeptical. She had assumed that Twilight Sparkle was an actual threat, not a wimp that lost a fight to an earth pony. It didn’t matter how clever Pinkie Pie said he was, if Twilight couldn’t muster the magical strength necessary to pummel him into submission, then she was either a weakling or a simpleton.

“I think I can handle him this time,” Trixie said confidently.

“Not that I don’t think you’re capable of holding your own in a tussle, Twi, but weren’t you the one that said we shouldn’t be drawing attention to ourselves?”

Trixie swore silently. She had forgotten she was undercover. The cost of pretending to be a weakling was that she had to act like one.

“Alright then, Applejack, what do you propose we do?”

“Well,” began Applejack, not removing her gaze from Silver Shield. “We do have the trap ready to spring. Would just be a different target, but if it can hold a unicorn, I don’t see why it can’t stop an earth pony.”

Trixie stood, ignoring them. “We’ll save that for a backup plan,” she told them. “For now, if he wants a fight, he’ll get one. I know I’m not really the brawling type, but hey, when you’re in Appleloosa…”

Applejack and Pinkie Pie exchanged an uncertain glance with each other.

Trixie strode forward into the crowd, making eye contact with Silver Shield to let him know she was ready. As soon as he returned the gaze, she focused on her magic, generating a small ball of energy in front of her horn. It fell to the ground and immediately began snaking its way across the floor, avoiding the hooves in bodies of all the ponies in its way and heading toward its target.

Silver Shield calmly watched the spell approach, waiting until the last minute to leap up onto the back of the pony adjacent to him, a bulky white pegasus. The spell, confused but unwilling to violate the commands it had been given, circled around the other pony aimlessly.

The other ponies in the bar were beginning to react, some in confusion, others in fear as they tried to distance themselves from the ball of energy. Silver Shield pushed off of the pony he was using as a pedestal and landed on a smaller blue earth pony mare, springboarding off of her and landing back on the wooden floor. Now that many of the ponies were trying to escape the fight, the path to his target was much clearer, and he set off at a gallop. The spell, sensing him, began to pursue, but it was unable to keep up with him and fell behind.

Trixie quickly launched another spell, a lance that shot out toward Silver Shield’s head, but the stallion dropped into a roll and it passed above him. Pulling out of the roll he leaped.

Panicking at the closing distance, Trixie raised a magical shield in front of her. Peering through the sparkling energy of the shield, she watched the earth pony orient himself in midair, landing hooves-first directly on the shield. The energy in the shield reached out for him, but was repelled by his horseshoes, made of some material Trixie did not have time to recognize. Using the shield as a platform and climbing over it, he landed on top of her, knocking her to the ground.

In anger, Trixie attempted to launch another spell, but a swift kick to her horn disrupted it. To her horror, she realized that the shock from the attack had also lowered her illusion, if only for a brief moment. She focused again, ignoring the pain in her horn and willing a fire to break out across her body, but the stallion was already off of her.

Trixie began to wonder if perhaps she was in over her head. She swore as she stood up. She was supposed to be the most powerful unicorn in Equestria, having been schooled by one alicorn and under the tutelage of another. This battle wasn’t just irritating, it was humiliating.

And now she had another constraint to consider. Not only did she have to pass herself off as Twilight, a pony whose power level she was very uncertain of, but she also couldn’t let the illusion dissipate. Part of her focus would be needed on keeping the spell up.

She ran over to Applejack and Pinkie Pie, who had retreated to the corner but were still watching. Astoundingly, Silver Shield let her.

“On second thought,” she said, “Your plan’s starting to look a little better.”

Applejack nodded. “We’re not too far.”

“Yeah, I remember the map. Like a fly to a spider’s web, right?”

The apt comparison made Applejack grin. “Exactly,” she agreed.

“See you in a few then,” said Trixie before she winked out, air rushing in to fill the void with an audible bang.

Silver Shield, in the middle of the now mostly empty bar, spun furiously, attempting to locate his lost target. He spotted her beyond one of the windows, escaping.

Confident that he had is prey on the run, he relaxed his battle stance and gave a courteous acknowledgment to the other ponies in the room.

“You still think this plan is a shot in the dark?” he asked ostentatiously.

“Actually,” admitted Applejack, “for the first time I’ve got hope.”

Entrapment

Familiarity is in the details, Applejack realized as she waited at the door to the large library-tree. When she had visited Braeburn in Appleloosa to deliver Bloomberg, the taste of her family’s signature apple pies had been enough to make her forget that she wasn’t in Ponyville anymore. Even when she had moved to Manehattan, her aunt still had enough retained habits of their old life to give a semblance of home, at least enough to make it uncanny. Maybe that was why Feng-Shui worked, she wondered. It wasn’t about the actual layout, but the pony that chose the layout feeling comfortable. But now, standing outside a building Applejack knew she had been inside dozens of times, she felt like a stranger. Any lingering traces of familiarity had been overwhelmed by strangeness. Her emotions told her that anything could be behind that door.

Pinkie Pie seemed completely unaffected. If anything, she was excited about the prospect of making a new friend. “So, what do you think he’s going to be like?” she asked, bouncing on her hooves.

The door opened just enough for a pair of blue eyes to peer disturbingly out at Applejack. The mare tried her best to smile through the scrutiny, but the cold gaze made a friendly visage difficult. She knew her smile looked obviously shallow, and she hoped that wasn’t enough for him to kill her on the spot.

The moment stretched on, and Applejack was about to ask if she had come at a bad time when the stallion finally sighed and opened the door fully. Applejack stepped cautiously inside, but she was shoved aside as Pinkie Pie bounded in behind her.

“Hiya, mister!” she shouted at the stallion. “My name is Pinkie…”

She stopped mid-sentence as the stallion turned to face them, a longsword clutched in his teeth. She froze at the height of her bounce and slowly fell back to the ground, the end of her name disappearing on her tongue.

The stallion glowered, and Applejack swallowed. She knew she could defend herself, but against an armed opponent? She put faith in her diplomacy and pressed onward.

“Mister Silver Shield, sir,” she began. “I heard about you from some of the other ponies in town. They said you’re a member of the Royal Guard.”

Silver Shield cut her off before she could try to flatter him or ask him for favors. “I’m not part of the Guard,” he corrected her. “I can’t be; not anymore. There’s no guard left for me to be part of.”

Applejack chuckled gently, trying to move past this minor setback in her introduction. The look she got from Silver in return warned her that the laughter had done nothing to lighten the situation. “That said,” she continued, “I wanted to know if you’d be willing to help us.”

Silver grunted in annoyance. “Depends. Do you have money?”

Applejack tried to laugh it off again, but it worked even less effectively the second time. “Well, no sir, but…”

This time was Silver’s turn to laugh, a different, deep laugh that reeked of malevolence and set Applejack and Pinkie Pie on edge. “Well you certainly aren’t in a position to make any demands then, are you? What are you planning on appealing to? Honor? Obligation? I have neither. Or were you just hoping that a former Guard member would help a good Samaritan for free, saving you the hassle of hiring a mercenary?”

Applejack was sweating now. She had achieved nothing but irritating a large stallion with a sword. “Actually,” she managed to stammer, praying that Pinkie Pie wouldn’t interrupt with something that could only make the situation worse, “it was your help specifically that we were looking for.”

“You flatter me, girl,” said Silver Shield in a way that made it clear he wasn’t flattered in the least. “What’s so special about me?”

“The townsfolk said you were an expert in fighting unicorns.”

Silver Shield chuckled and relaxed his grip on the weapon, but he made no move to put it down. However, at just the mention of a fight, his attitude seemed to improve considerably. “Hunting a unicorn is dangerous work, sister,” he mused, and Applejack’s stomach turned at the thought of her suddenly becoming a sister. “What ungrateful bastard are you hoping to slay tonight?”

“Not slay,” a spooked Applejack quickly corrected. “Just capture.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed.

“But the mare we’re after is a high-ranking member of Nightmare Moon’s order. She goes by Trixie. As a servant of Celestia, I figured you’d be interested.”

Silver Shield paused, taking time to replay the entire conversation over in his head, trying his best to understand. “Let me make sure I got this right,” he finally said. “You want to track down somepony who works directly beneath the Nightmare Queen herself, and capture her without killing her? You’re insane.”

Applejack had been half-expecting this response. “I understand if you consider this to be too risky…” she began, figuring she should try to end the conversation with mutual understanding and no hard feelings.

“Are you kidding? I’m in. My last prey got away from me, and I could use a little pick-me-up.”

Applejack and Pinkie Pie, well aware of who the last prey had been, were both more than a little disturbed by the stallion’s particular choice of words, but both were careful not to let it show. The last thing they needed was to insult him and lose his assistance.

“What did you say your name was again?” the stallion finally decided to ask.

“Uh… Applejack.”

“And I’m Pinkie Pie!” the bubbly pony shouted enthusiastically as she extended a hoof. Silver nervously shook it.

“Alright then girls,” he declared with a grin both inspiring and devilish. “I’m going to teach you how to catch a unicorn.”

Trixie, proud of her own abilities as she was, knew that attempting to outrun an athletic earth pony was futile. But repeated teleportation might make up for her lack of athletic prowess. If she could displace herself faster than he could run, she’d be able to keep out of his reach until she reached the trapped building.

It occurred to her that she was depending on the success of a plan she had already deemed idiotic. But clearly the resistance was at least somewhat competent, if they’d raised the concern of the Queen herself. If their trap didn’t work, she’d have to face off against the stallion in unfamiliar territory, with both of them strained by the run. She wasn’t sure who this would favor.

The world blinked in and out of existence rapidly, buildings shifting down dozens of yards at a time. Teleportation, a very high-level and intensive skill, was already starting to get to her. She wasn’t sure if she would have any energy left when if she then had to turn and fight.

She only risked looking back once, to discover that the stallion was somehow closing the distance behind her. Making the last turn, she passed the radio tower and counted the buildings, stopping at the one whose shape she recognized from the map. Giving her magic a chance to rest, she dashed up the steps and through the door.

Stepping inside the building, Trixie felt as if she had just teleported again. The walls were covered with pulleys and ropes, the fringes of some complex contraption that spanned the entire building. Various appliances were nailed to the walls, including a set of frying pans and a tambourine. She flew to the far side of the room, where the lever waited tantalizingly. She turned and waited, and as soon as the stallion was on the doorstep, she pulled.

Trixie wasn’t sure exactly what would happen when she pulled the level. She had no reason to doubt Pinkie Pie’s engineering ingenuity, but the very brief description still left quite a bit to the imagination. She wondered if the cage was going to fall from the ceiling, or if the floor would open up, or if the walls would appear together or individually.

But she was certainly not expecting the entire room to become an explosion of light and sound.

“Okay. To bait and trap a unicorn, we need to follow a few simple steps.” Pinkie Pie and Applejack listened with rapt attention as Silver Shield detailed the plan. “Step one: plant the bait.”

Applejack considered this. “We need a reason for her to come to us. What does she want that we have?”

“Ooh! Ooh! I know!” Pinkie Pie was struggling to contain her excitement. “I know this one! Pick me! Pick me!”

Applejack and Silver Shield exchanged an uneasy look. “Is she always…” began Silver Shield, but the look of resigned acceptance on Applejack’s face told him everything.

“Yes, Pinkie Pie?” said Applejack.

“She wants me! I escaped from her clutches once, and she probably wants to put me back in them!”

Applejack chuckled as she realized that was surprisingly accurate and on-topic for Pinkie Pie. “That could work,” she considered. “But what are we going to do? Broadcast our location across Equestria? She’d see through that in a heartbeat.”

“Not if we had some excuse for doing so. Is there anypony else that you might want to know your location? Somepony that Trixie wouldn’t bat an eyelash if you were looking for?”

Applejack considered her options. “There is one,” she said at last. “A mare. Twilight Sparkle.”

The name affected a sudden souring of Silver Shield’s attitude. “You’re allies with Twilight Sparkle?”

“Yup!” claimed Pinkie Pie enthusiastically. “Best friends forever!”

“Maybe not,” said Applejack hurriedly. “But Trixie wouldn’t know that. Twilight’s the enemy of our enemy, and in Trixie’s eyes that makes us friends.”

“But your friend just said…”

“Pinkie’s friends with everybody,” stated Applejack. “Isn’t that right, Pinkie?”

“Uh huh.” Pinkie just nodded vigorously. “It’s my special talent.”

“Fair enough,” said Silver Shield with a shrug.

“I mean, I just want to throw the whole world a party, but I don’t have enough party hats! It’s so frustrating!”

Applejack rolled her eyes, catching another concerned glance from Silver Shield. “Moving on,” she said, “and to make sure I got a firm hoof on this, we’re sendin’ out a distress call, knowing darn well it’s gonna to be hijacked?” asked Applejack. “I like this plan already.”

“Which brings us to step two: Plan and counterplan. Trixie will come after us expecting a trap of some sort. We need to be able to examine the situation from her perspective and determine exactly what precautions she’s going to take. That way, we won’t be caught by surprise.

“What if Trixie makes herself look like Twilight so we can’t tell which one is real and which one is fake?” Pinkie Pie asked worriedly.

“Is that possible?” Applejack asked nopony in particular. Then, realizing she probably wasn’t going to get an answer that way, she asked Silver Shield. “You know about unicorns. Can they pull off shapeshifting like that?”

Silver Shield laughed. “I’d like to see one try. Something like that would require a tremendous amount of energy and focus.”

“See, Pinkie Pie? You ain’t got nothing to worry about.”

“Illusion magic, on the other hoof, is foal’s play. If we send out a call for help to some ally of yours, it’s not only likely, but immensely probable, that she would attempt to impersonate them. She’ll think she’s got the jump on us when really, we’ve got the jump on her. Which brings us to step three: Always maintain the advantage, but keep this a secret. She must always think that she’s the one in control. Or, at the very least, she must think that she has more control than we do, until the moment is right for us to strike our blow.

“Now, Trixie probably knows we don’t have any unicorns on the team, so she’s going to come out with her magic cannons slinging. Which will only make things better for us if we can create a unicorn-hostile environment.”

“Which is?”

“Magic requires focus, so anything that can break her concentration can eliminate her advantage. Loud noises. Bright lights. If we can keep her from getting any spells off, this fight is as good as ours.”

“But won’t that hurt us too?” asked a worried Pinkie Pie.

“Yes, but it evens the playing field, puts her and us on the same level. Then, it’s a matter of numbers. Three versus one.”

“Four versus one, actually.”

As soon as the lever was pulled, multiple sets of bells began chiming, whistles blew, drums began beating at irregular intervals, and Trixie lost her capacity to think.

Overwhelmed by the sudden cacophonic storm, she failed to anticipate Silver Shield leaping forward and knocking her to the floor. She tried to focus and gather the energy for a spell, but it came slowly, her thoughts scattered from the noise. After too many seconds, she managed to summon a firebomb above her, an explosion of heat and force that threw Silver Shield off of her and into the wall. She stumbled to her feet and prepared to launch a magically formed hammer at Silver Shield when the lights finally flickered on.

The lights imbedded in the walls and ceiling where brighter than anything Trixie had ever looked at. She shielded her eyes, but her vision had already been replaced by searing red. The hammer dissipated, half-formed, and Silver Shield attacked again. Still distracted by the light, Trixie was hit full-on by the attack and was knocked backwards into a cuckoo clock, which activated on impact, driving a shrill cry directly into her ears. And as Trixie struggled to blink the pain away, a new figure descended from the ceiling and charged.

Something in Silver Shield’s demeanor had changed for the better. He finally put his weapon down and began prancing about the room scaling ladders and pulling books off the shelves.

Too late, Applejack realized why the stallion looked almost happy. Whatever they were about to see or hear had been rehearsed.

Finally, with a brief elated cry, he found the book he was looking for and held it high above his head, nearly toppling off the ladder in the process. He tossed it down to Applejack, who looked at the plainly bound cover.

“Liberty and Equality, by Iron Sickle? The hay?”

“It’s a good read,” said Silver Shield as he slid down the ladder to rejoin his new employers. “Sickle, an earth pony, lived a long time ago in the lands to the south. There was an uprising, and a unicorn elite took advantage of the chaos to establish power and extort the other ponies. But he used his skill with words to inspire the earth ponies to protect themselves. ‘Nature is unkind and unequal, so we cannot ask her to aid us. Neither is our fellow pony steeled in compassion enough for us to sacrifice our autonomy to them. Neigh, we much work ourselves, through hoof and nail, to claim what will not be given by authority, whether God or Equine.’ He devoted his life to researching and discovering ways to hold his ground against unicorns and exposing the tyranny that invariably came with their worldview.”

“Well that’s…” Applejack struggled to think of the right word. “Presumptuous.”

Silver Shield rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re a sympathizer,” he moaned. “It’s the simple truth. They’re stronger than us, so we have to be smarter than them. And in the end, he discovered a way to remove a unicorn’s magical powers entirely. That’s how we stop this Trixie. We’re going to steal her magic.”

She was running on instinct now. Anything that required conscious thought was impossible given the environment. Miraculously, she managed to raise a shield to block the new pony’s strike, but the pony was quick to attack again, this time coming from the side. Trixie dove forward, and the attack missed her. The pony flared a pair of pegasus wings and turned on her feet with more agility than Trixie had been expected and came in for another attack.

Her eyes beginning to adjust, Trixie was able to make out that the new pony was a mare, fully covered in tight blue clothing, her eyes obscured by sunglasses and a pair of earplugs protecting her. Just before she reached her target, she was knocked aside by a floating brick. Rolling with the blow, the mare was soon up on her feet again and coming in for a strike from the side. Silver Shield also came forward, attempting to flank her. Thinking quickly, Trixie jumped, using her telekinesis to propel her through the air and toward the door.

The mare was on her before she got halfway. Trixie felt a sharp pain in her back, and as she turned to get a look at the mare, she noticed the syringe now sticking into her. She crumpled to the ground.

This wasn’t worth it, she decided. The plan had gone astray far enough. She dropped the illusion, although she suspected it had already been dropped earlier in the fight.

“Stop!” she cried. “I’m not who you’re after!”

She didn’t expect the two ponies to believe her, nor did she expect the stallion’s response.

“We know,” spat Silver Shield. “But I’m not terribly fond of you either.”

Trixie squeezed her eyes shut in concentration. She needed to get out of here. Just far enough away to recoup, to get her energy back, and then she could strike with all her force. Yet the blinding lights and cantankerous noise made it impossible for her to manage any magic beyond simple cantrips. She focused, trying her best to gather the reserves of energy necessary to teleport. She finally felt a breakthrough, and sensed the world vanishing around her.

Only to be teleported ten feet away and unceremoniously dropped to her ground, her magic failing mid-transport. Looking down the road, she spotted Applejack and Pinkie Pie trotting up the lane, looking rather pleased. Ahead of her, Silver Shield and the pegasus stood at the doorway, the mare’s bright orange mane no longer obscured by the darkness.

But now that Trixie was away from the noise, she could focus again. But as she envisioned the spell components in her head, nothing happened. The spell stubbornly refused to come together. She had the energy, she had the focus, and her magic still wasn’t responding how she expected it too. Some sparks formed on her horn but promptly sputtered and died.

Applejack stopped above the panting mare and smirked. “Hey there, Trixie,” she said, chuckling. “You look a bit tuckered out.”

Trixie’s breath was labored and her gaze was furious. “What in Equestria did you do to me?”

“Alright,” said Applejack. “So let’s say we actually manage to capture her. What then? How do we contain somepony as powerful as her?”

“That’s what the book is for,” explained Silver Shield. “In his studies, Iron examined purported cases of unicorns losing their ability to perform magic. He discovered that there existed a special magical herb that, in certain situations, could interfere with a unicorn’s power. But that herb is only found in a small number of locations throughout all of Equestria. The Everfree Forest is one of them. That’s why I came to Ponyville, to harvest more of it. I was hoping to grow and cultivate it on my own.”

“You’re talking about Poison Joke,” figured Applejack.

“Poison Joke takes from you what you’re most proud of. And as it turns out, most unicorns of Trixie’s caliber are pretty proud of their magic. The most common means of exposure is physical contact. But that takes far too long to take effect. It turns out we can extract the potency of the flower and distill it as a liquid.”

“And we make her drink it?”

“We could, but I was imagining something a little bit more expedient. Do you have a medical kit?”

Trixie huffed, trying to regain control of her breathing. She attempted to focus and assess the situation. This is nothing you can’t handle, she told herself. You’ve been in worse spots before.

“You can’t beat me,” she warned. “Just to let you know. If things get any more serious, I’ll walk away with bruises. You won’t walk away at all.”

“You talk pretty tough for a horn-less unicorn,” quipped Applejack. “But you know what? You’re like a critter that makes it fur stand out when it sees ya. It tries to look tough ‘cuz it knows it can’t win in a fight.”

“Or maybe I’m telling the truth. You can’t beat me because you can’t possibly account for every tactic at my disposal. You’re not the only one with backup plans. I’ve got an ace-in-the-hole too.”

“Oh, really? Like what?”

“Like a size-shifting dragon hidden in my mane. Spike? Now.”

Not bothering to try and make sense of Trixie’s words, Applejack leaped forward to try and pin the unicorn to the ground, but she stopped as she spotted the purple and green mass burst outward from within Trixie’s hair. Blown backward by the ensuing shockwave and deafened by the crack of the compressed air, Applejack was knocked on her back and dazed as the dragon flapped its wings and rocketed toward her, landing with a claw placed over her throat.

Pinkie Pie watched in shock while Silver Shield took action, succeeding where Applejack failed and knocking into Trixie, landing on top of her and holding a hoof above her head threateningly.

Trixie grinned. Hoof-to-hoof combat was boring. Now things were finally interesting.

Spike looked back and forth between his master and his prey, recognizing both his advantage and the danger Trixie was in. She didn’t seem to mind.

“Ooh, now we’re getting somewhere,” she declared excitedly. “A real Mexicolt standoff. You really know how to make my day, don’t you?”

Madame Orange awoke to the sound of music. It was a slow, remorseful tune, dancing around at the edges of her hearing, leaping away before she could manage to recognize any of the notes. Still, the haunting refrain chilled her.

She stretched and stepped out of bed, irritated at losing sleep but knowing much better than to admit it. She hadn’t heard the music many times before, but she knew what it meant. As she closed the curtain to her bed and opened the curtain to the window, she wondered what was preventing Trixie from talking to her. Usually she received her orders via intermediary. It was a rare for her to see the Queen at all, let alone outside of the castle.

A cloud of vibrant violet dust hovered outside the window before seeping through the cracks. In the sparse room, it expanded, filling up every available corner. And as the cloud enveloped Orange, the music increased in intensity. It seemed to have no source, instead surrounding her, oppressing her.

“Your majesty?” she called into the oppressing darkness. “Is that you?”

As she finished speaking, she attempted to refill her lungs with air, but instead only coughed debilitatingly as she breathed in the dust. As she slowly recovered, taking smaller shallower breaths to avoid another fit, she heard, or rather felt, the response.

We will not entertain your wishes concerning the Generosity Bearer any longer. Tomorrow you will take her and bring her to the garden.

“The garden? Are we going to fix her mind there?”

No. But I believe the Loyalty Bearer still retains some allegiance to her. If we cannot motivate her on our own to open a new gate between her world and ours, then perhaps she can provide additional encouragement.

Orange nodded, but her movements felt sluggish, as if the cloud were water. “I was supposed to meet with Trixie, but I couldn’t find her.” Even that sentence seemed to take a lot out of her. She knew she couldn’t remain here for very long.

As she inhaled again, she felt the cloud entering her, mingling about in her lungs. She could feel the cloud as it moved about, brushing every part of her and forcing its way into her ears and mouth. Her eyes burned. She could sense the life of the Queen’s incorporeal form.

The not-voice boomed again, and Orange felt like she was being deafened, even though she doubted it was making any sound at all.

The Knight is away. She will return with the Bearer of Laughter from the Other Side, the prisoner you let escape. She is doing your job, and you should be thankful.

She was distracted by a sudden overwhelming sensation, a sadness that discouraged her from talking, from even thinking, as if everything that had ever been important to her had suddenly been taken very far away from her.

Rarity. Her family. Her entire life seemed impossibly distant. And from that immense feeling of isolation, a bitterness emerged. Orange fought to keep it down.

“I have a request then, for you?”

She felt the Queen’s rage, like a hot breath washing over her, coating her in perspiration and making her hair stick together.

You have done nothing to deserve any favors from me.

“I know, but I thought I should ask anyways.”

The movement in the cloud ceased, as if it were considering her request. Finally, it began moving again.

Speak.

Orange tried to remember the speech she had prepared, but any sort of focus was difficult with the cloud filling all of her senses. Unable to see anything beyond the purple veil, Orange closed her eyes, but she could still feel it moving around her and in her. She could feel it pressing against her throat and lungs, pushing any air out. While her entire body felt numb and heavy, her head was light, and she wondered if she would be able to speak her request before she passed out.

Focus, she told herself as the Queen’s loneliness and self-loathing mingled with her own. Every thought and feeling felt multiplied, overwhelming, and it took all of her concentration not to succumb to them. The one sliver of conscious thought that had not been driven out by the presence, continued to operate.

“Well, I’ve seen the spell that you and Trixie use to control ponies. You alter their minds to make them want to serve you more. You make them perfect servants.”

And?

“I was merely thinking that I am not a perfect servant. Not yet.”

You wish for me to eliminate your free will?

Orange had not expected the Queen to put it that bluntly, although that conclusion had crossed her mind. “Yes, your Majesty,” she said. “That is what I wish.”

She tensed as she awaited the Queen’s response. She had been considering this request for weeks, and it seemed reasonable.

A resounding shudder moved through the cloud, as if it were laughing.

No.

“Beg pardon?” Orange asked, accidentally slipping into her accent.

I understand why you might pursue such a drastic path. You are burdened by the work I ask of you. You are worried you might fail me.

“Exactly! Which is why I need you to make it so that I can’t fail you.”

No. You wish this because you think living with such a curse is easy, a lighter load than what I currently have you bear.

“Not at all, your majesty! I understand that the curse is painful. I am willing to sacrifice anything so I can serve you.”

But you have concluded that having your priorities assigned to you is easier than having to figure them out on your own. You believe that false conviction is more effective than having to decide what you believe. You wish this weight upon you because the thought of free will terrifies you.

I will not grant you this release because you are much more useful as you are. Cursing you would only hinder your ability to make sound judgments, and would defeat the purpose of your punishment.

“Punishment?” asked Orange, genuinely confused.

When I first approached you, I gave you the option to side with me. When you refused, you made it clear you required coercion. Removing your will, allowing you to function knowing that you are no longer responsible for your own actions, would remove your incentive to do well. I understand that you wish to be absolved of your sins. But trying to pursue such a pitiable escape as abandoning your own responsibility for your actions is childish. No, I much prefer you where you are.

“I see.”

This is the last I wish to hear of such a request. You will bring the Generosity Bearer to the garden tomorrow. You will do whatever it takes to convince the Loyalty Bearer to open the gate. Once our mages are given the opportunity to analyze the passage between worlds, we will attempt to recreate it, and both of the otherworldlings will become disposable.

“I don’t see why we have to kill them,” interrupted Orange, her composure and deference slipping. “I can look after Rarity. She won’t be a problem.”

Shelve your amorous attitudes. The mare is a distraction. Even once she is no longer useful to us in any way, you cannot ascertain that she will not be a threat. For the good of the empire, she must be eliminated. Do you understand me?

Orange nodded, defeated. “Yes, your Majesty,” she said solemnly, bowing. “I understand where my loyalties lie, and I know what I must do to serve them.”

The music began to fade in her ears, her vision cleared, and within seconds she was alone in her bedroom. She stood still silently for a minute, just to ensure that the Queen was really gone, before she changed into a green dress more presentable than her nightgown and slipped out into the night.

The Hole in the Web

Nopony dared move. They were stuck, frozen in time, a still frame in a dead city. Without the sun to mark the passage of time, Applejack begin to wonder if this would last forever, and how she would know if it had.

“Let's just make sure we're all understanding each other,” said Trixie, desperately trying to come up with a plan. “If any of you make a move, Applejack loses her head. And I expect that if that happens, I will lose mine shortly afterward. In the common interest of keeping our lives, I trust you won't do anything stupid.”

“But apparently we can talk, right?” said Pinkie Pie. “Talking's not moving. And if it were, you talked first, meaning we win.”

“This isn't something we can win,” warned Applejack. “For once the show-boater's right. Anything reckless and nopony wins today.”

“Although it's not like we have much of a choice,” offered Silver Shield. “Nothing's going to change unless one of us makes a move, right? And as soon as that happens, things get ugly. Why drag this out?”

“Easy for you to say,” countered Applejack. “You don't have a claw at your throat. If this turns all shades of ugly, you just walk away.” Mentioning the claw was enough to make Applejack rethink her situation. She looked up at the dragon, teetering on the fringes of familiarity. “Spike?” she asked. “Spike, is that you?”

The dragon cocked his head, trying to puzzle her out. “Huh? Do you know me?” he asked in a voice entirely unfitting of his large size.

“Don’t listen to her,” warned Trixie. “She’s trying to trick you.”

Spike shrugged. “Probably,” he agreed. “But it’s not like we’ve got anything else to do. The stallion was right. We're not going to get out of this until we do something, for good or bad.” He grinned at Applejack, trying to turn up the charm. “So hey,” he said, realizing that he wasn't likely to get very far with suavity when the mare was pinned beneath him. “Have we met before?”

“No, but I know a dragon just like you. Only he's a bit nicer, a bit more honorable. A better Spike than you.”

“A better Spike?” interrupted Trixie. “What do you mean by that?”

“Cut it, Trixie,” growled Applejack. “You already know all about us. Secret's been out for a while, hasn't it?”

“Applejack!” Pinkie’s wail cut into the conversation and burrowed into Applejack’s skull. “Why’d you do that?”

“Do what?” asked Applejack uncomprehendingly.

“You told her! She knew about us, and we knew she knew, but she didn’t know we knew she knew. And now that you’ve gone and spilled the beans, she knows we know she knows! What if she uses that knowledge against us? What if she had some plan that would have been foiled if we knew she knew but she didn’t know?”

“Beg pardon, Pinkie, but what kind of plan would require her to know we knew she knew we weren’t from here?

“I don’t know!”

“As fascinating as this conversation is turning out to be,” muttered Silver Shield, “and as taxing as it’s proving to be on our faculties, it’s not addressing Applejack’s point.”

“Which would be?” asked Spitfire beside him.

Silver Shield gave the mare in his clutches a triumphant grin. “The point being that our dear Trixie has an inside source. She believed that she was able to impersonate Twilight Sparkle, despite ostensibly having never met the mare.” He turned to Pinkie Pie. “You asked her the question like I suggested, right?”

Pinkie nodded. “Yup! And she got it right!”

“False security dooms us all, doesn’t it?” the stallion sneered at Trixie. “You probably thought we were checking to see if it was really you behind the mask. But we knew you were an imposter since the moment you set hoof in Appleloosa. The real Twilight Sparkle, both of them, are gone. What we wanted to know was whether or not Applejack’s pathetic excuse for a counterpart had been feeding you information. Call it the confirmation of a hunch.”

“Are you sure you want to be spilling all your secrets?” taunted Trixie. “Shouldn’t you be trying to hide this from me?”

“Why bother,” added Spitfire. “Either we capture you or you capture us, and the details hardly matter after that.”

Applejack was still fascinated by the bulky dragon pinning her down. “It’s really you, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Of course. I think I’d know if I wasn’t me.” Spike leaned in closer, trying to make his conversation personal, but a shout from Silver Shield and a threatening gesture toward Trixie made him back away slightly. “What’s it like, over there?” he asked. “What’s the other me like?”

“Tiny. You’re so grown up. And so… big.”

Spike shrugged. “It happens.”

“Mind explainin’ how you’re doing that growy-shrinky thing?”

“It’s dragon magic,” answered Spike, as if that simple explanation would suddenly allow everything to make sense.

“I’ve never seen anything like that before,” said Silver Shield. “And this is from a guy who studies magic. I can tell you what stunt a unicorn’s trying to pull by the way their horn wobbles. I have read and memorized every book on combat and utility magic published in the last century. And I have never heard anything about the vagrant disrespect for conservation of mass that you make look like foal’s play.”

“I guess I do make it look easy,” admitted Spike, “but it’s not. It took me months of training to learn how to control it. It first started happening on its own, a while back, and it was a mess. The bigger I got, the harder it was to think clearly. I just sort of became a monster. Trixie had to put me into a magical sleep so I wouldn’t wreck Canterlot. She tried to do research to find out what had happened to me, but most dragons stay away from pony civilizations. It turns out ponies don’t know very much about dragons at all. So Trixie realized that the only beings that might know anything about what was happening to me were other dragons, and she set out to find one. That’s a whole different story in its own right, though you should ask her about it sometime. Long story short, she finds a group of really old dragons willing to teach me. Most dragons these days succumb to instinct instead of learning to control it, so I guess they were excited to make sure their knowledge and ways lived on.”

“You almost make her sound like she’s not a complete monster,” said Applejack

Spitfire, who had been watching Trixie, noticed that the unicorn seemed stunned by the comment. Her face held a strange mix of embarrassment and anger.

“She’s not,” answered Spike. “She used to be so much stronger.” He paused, lost in his reminiscing. “We were the perfect team,” he recalled. “She was a different pony then, before the Nightmare. Wasn’t so worn. Wasn’t so desperate to keep things solid.”

“Solid?” asked Pinkie Pie, confused.

“Spike!” barked Trixie, losing her patience. Spitfire, who had noticed the mare’s quickening breath and oncoming frenzy, would have sworn Trixie was beginning to panic. “We planned for this. They can’t beat us if we fight back.”

“I know,” answered Spike. “But you know what? I’ve got a better idea.” He released Applejack and stepped away, stretching his limbs so that the single step took him far away from anypony. The he raised both of his front claws above his head.

“We surrender.”

Applejack was dumbstruck.

Trixie was seething. “That. Was not. The Plan,” she hissed.

“No. It wasn’t. But you’ve always said to make the most of every opportunity, to look for places to get ahead. And that’s precisely what I’m doing. I’m moving this along to its unavoidable end.”

“Seems a bit defeatist of you,” laughed Silver Shield.

“It’s a trap,” Spitfire whispered to him. “He waits until our backs are turned and he breaks her out.”

“Obviously,” he whispered back. He turned to address Spike. “You have a great deal of power here, Dragon,” he said. “There isn’t much point in either of us denying that. What do we have to judge you by other than good faith?”

“The fact that if I wanted to, I could escape at any time? Cuff me, if you have them. Or I could shrink down and you could put me in a bottle. But really, you probably shouldn’t do any of that. Because you don’t know me. You don’t know what can and can’t hold me, and I wouldn’t want you to let your guard down. If you want to hold me, keep a close eye on me and don’t let go of Trixie. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I let something happen to her. If you have her, you have me. Is that acceptable?” he asked Silver Shield.

Applejack answered for him. “Don’t bother the stallion,” she told Spike. “He’s not the one in charge, no matter how much he acts like it. Our work with him is done, as far as we’re concerned.” Finally freed from Spike’s grip, she stood up and stretched her limbs.

It took all of Trixie’s effort to keep from exploding into a violent rage, but she figured that thrashing about when trapped by a large and brutish stallion was probably not a good idea. “Traitor!” she shouted at Spike. “We’re supposed to be a team! A union! Why are you turning on me like this, you turncoat?”

“Not to you,” responded Spike with a gentleness and sincerity that surprised Applejack. “Never to you. No more keeping things solid. I told you that you had to face the things that are hurting you. That begins now.”

Rarity had never imagined that she would ever be able to sleep outside of a bed. And for the first couple of nights she hadn’t. Ignoring her hunger or the feeling of the rough stone floors had been impossible. But exhaustion eventually overpowered her. It may not have been beauty sleep, but restless sleep was better than nothing.

However, in her discomfort, she was frequently awakened by even the slightest disturbances. So she woke almost instantly when the door to the prison groaned open in the middle of the night (or what Rarity’s internal clock told her was the middle of the night; even if there were windows in her cell, the perpetual blackness wouldn’t have given her any clues.)

She watched Madame Orange open the door to her cell, and advance until she was just barely out Rarity’s reach. She was wearing a simple utilitarian green gown, with a matching saddle bag. Rarity was briefly disturbed by how despondent the mare seemed until she reminded herself that she didn’t care.

“Take my friends away all you like,” Rarity said stubbornly. “But don’t take away my sleeping time.”

“You don't have to like me,” began Orange, “but you still have to listen to me.”

“No. Go away.”

“I want to tell you a story. Surely you like hearing stories. This one is about a little filly, and it has everything a good story needs to have. A beginning. A climax. An ending, at least in mind. Do you want to hear it?”

Rarity eyed Orange, her gaze directing as much loathing as she could manage. “What I want,” she spoke through clenched teeth, “is to bash your stupid head in.”

Orange shrugged. “Fair enough. Let's make a deal. If you listen to my story, I'll give you this.” She grabbed a ribbon that was hanging out of her saddle bag with her teeth, removing the item attached to it and putting it on display. Rarity wasn't sure what to expect, but this wasn't it. A key, small and metal, dangled tantalizingly from Orange's mouth. Orange smiled, knowing she had the unicorn's attention as she placed the key on the floor, just out of reach.

“Is that...” began Rarity.

“The key to your chains? You listen to my story and the key is yours, on one stipulation.”

The entire setup seemed suspicious. There was no reason for Orange to just hand over the key. Something bigger was involved, and Rarity was curious about the catch. “You realize that if I got out, the first thing I would do is beat you into the pavement, right?”

“Actually,” muttered Orange, a bit sheepishly. “That's the stipulation.”

A moment of stunned silence followed. “I don't understand,” Rarity said at last.

“Then I suggest you sit still and listen to the story.”

Any weariness in Rarity was now replaced by curiosity. While she still insisted that she didn’t care about her captor in the slightest, the promise of escape and the cryptic request was enough for her to pay attention.

“Once upon a time,” Orange’s story began, “there was a little filly who lived on a farm with her family, whom she loved more than anything in the world. But after her little sister was born, both of her parents passed away suddenly, and she didn't know what to do about it. Everything at the farm reminded her of them. So one summer, she decided to leave and see what else there was in this world. She visited her aunt and uncle, who lived in a big city to the north. And although she didn't feel like she fit in at first, as she began to watch her aunt and uncle work, she soon realized that she had a knack for something they valued. Management. Business. She had the skills to gather and organize large groups of ponies. She had the memory to keep track of them all and to manage a budget, and the adaptability to make sure they played nice together. And more importantly than anything else, she had an eye for talent. In the small town she came from, it was pretty clear that she was going to grow up to be an apple farmer. But in the big city, the world was hers. She could be anything. And so she was. The filly became a mare.

“But tragedy struck. An ancient goddess returned to reclaim its throne, and the existing social order that the mare had grown to enjoy was gone. But when the true horrors of the new world became apparent, she realized that she had been thrust into a position of responsibility. For she had the power to bring the old world back.”

Rarity interrupted her. “I know this part already,” she said. “You and Twilight invented and marketed the artificial sun to make food. But when you tried to use it as leverage to get the family farm, the other me saw right through you and turned you away.”

“That's not what happened at all!” protested Orange. “I wanted to help my family!”

“I used to believe that,” said Rarity, eyeing the key. “And if that's how you want to tell it, fine. It's your story, after all. But trying to make yourself the victim doesn't earn you any sympathy points. So if you'd skip ahead to the part where you sold your soul to Nightmare Moon, then we can get out of this faster, and we'll both be better off.”

“I was about to,” muttered Orange bitterly. “But I don't want to hurry this up. I want to spend time with you, since I'm never going to see you again after this.”

Her response set off warning bells. “You aren't actually going to let me go, are you?” Rarity asked.

Orange nodded. “I swear to you, I am.”

“Then this won't be the last time we see each other. If I get out of here, then I'm regrouping with my friends and we'll be right back, together, to kick Nightmare Moon's sorry flank, and you with it.”

“I have no doubt that's true,” said Orange solemnly, and Rarity was for once unable to tell if she was being serious. “But I don't think I'll be here when you return.”

“And why is that?”

“Because,” Orange continued in the same resigned voice. “I'll probably be dead by then.”

Rarity was at a loss for words. “I don't understand,” she finally managed.

“Then I suggest you let me finish the story. You wanted me to jump to when the mare meets Nightmare Moon, right? So after this mare was spurned by her family and the stranger that took it over, she spent some time trying to figure out what she was going to do next. Her actions no longer seemed as important or as heroic as they had at first, now that she knew she wasn't going to be able to help her family, no matter what she did. It was then, in the midst of this moping, that the mare was approached by the goddess and offered a proposition. The goddess had been gone from the world for a thousand years, and had been spending her time learning how things had changed. She had discovered that the world had become a great deal more complicated in her absence, and she knew she could not easily integrate herself into it. But what was difficult for her would be a simple matter for somepony else. Her offer was simple. She wanted a mare to be her eyes and ears, keeping an eye over the rest of Equestria, and if it be deemed necessary, this mare would also influence the other ponies, pushing pieces into place. Few mares had the authority and power to offer such a service. But she had been forming a web of contacts and acquiantances all her life, and she had the money to pull the strings when necessary. she was perfect.”

“And you said yes.”

“She was never asked for her opinion on the matter. Employment was not optional. But she gave an answer anyway. She said no. She told the Nightmare Queen that she would sooner drop dead than ever do a thing for a horrid creature like her. But as you've probably learned by now, the Nightmare has ways of, well, encouraging compliance.”

Rarity smirked. “What did she do to break you? Torture? Suck out your soul? That would explain a bit.”

Orange shook her head. “As it turns out, the Nightmare Queen had fought in a war shortly before her banishment, and she had been responsible for the creation of several spells, all of which were hideously destructive and cruel. One of them was a death curse. It could deliver an excruciating demise, designed to kill in the slowest and most brutal ways imaginable. And if the mare refused to work with the goddess, she would use it to murder the mare's family.”

“Oh.” That was all Rarity could think to say. “Oh.” She swore she could hear the glass shattering as everything began shifting into place. “I didn't know...”

Orange grimaced, panting and holding back the tears. “Why do you think I got angry when you accused me of not caring about my family? Everything I do is to keep them safe. I despise myself. Every day I commit atrocities. I spy, I report, I lie. And I can't even tell my family the depths that I sink to to keep them alive, because then they'd only hate me more. Every day that I debase myself, set aside my morals, is another day they get to live in ignorance. I didn't have anypony to open up to. And then I found you.”

Rarity sighed. “And then you lost me,” she finished. “I wanted to help you. I wanted to help this whole world, but you had to turn me in. You had your chance.”

Orange turned away, suddenly unable to look Rarity in the face. Her cheeks burned from the shame. “I know. And you made me realize something. I've been working for the Nightmare for over a year, but nothing's changed. My family is still in the exact same situation they were in a year ago. I haven't done anything to secure their safety at all; I've only prolonged their inevitable demise. I think the lesson here is that if I want something, I need to go out and make it happen. It's funny. The last time I said that, I was bowing down to the Nightmare's demands. I hadn't really learned the lesson at all. But now I understand. I know what to do to save my family, and keep them safe forever. I think I always knew, but I was too scared to even contemplate it. But I see the way out now. And for the first time, I am honestly willing to do whatever it takes to save my family. You told me I couldn't deceive to save my life. You're wrong. I want to pull the ultimate one-up on Nightmare Moon, and I want you to help me do it.”

Rarity blanched. “You're serious,” she murmured.

“You said it. I can't lie; not to you, at least. But you can help me slip one past the Nightmare. One final trick. And it all starts with this key.”

Rarity eyed the key suspiciously. “You really think she's not going to suspect treachery when you let me go?” she asked. “Nightmare Moon's not stupid.”

“Of course not,” answered Orange. “That's why your release has a condition. If I let you go, we need to create an alternative explanation. An excuse. We can say that I was foolish enough to get close to you, and you took the key from me by force.”

Rarity scoffed. “So that's your condition? That I rough you up a bit, make you look like you were in a fight? I'd love to, but she won't buy that. She'll see right through you.”

“I know. And the Nightmare Queen knows I'm desperate. You could beat me within an inch of my life and she'd figure it out. But not if you went a little bit further.”

Rarity wasn't sure she understood. The explanation, while seemingly obvious to come to, was absurd. “Are you telling me to kill you?” she asked, suddenly growing weak.

“Think about it, Rarity,” said Orange, who seemed to grow bolder. “The only reason my family is in danger is because the Nightmare needs something to hang over my head. If I were to ever become useless to her, there would no longer be a reason to threaten my family. It would be too much effort, with no real gain. The problem is that I can't make myself useless, not without her seeking revenge. But after I'm gone, she can't punish me anymore. You can't get revenge against someone who won't be able to watch. I'll get the last laugh. If I die, my family is safe.”

“I can't do this.”

“You have to, or else I won't let you go. If I free you, and you decide to show mercy, then the Nightmare will figure me out and punish me. You'd be putting my family in harm's way. I can only release you if you swear, on your life, that you'll release me. You're right. I am in chains, my whole family is. You can free them all.”

Rarity sat in silence, letting Orange’s story sink in. If it was a bluff of some sort, it was the best one Rarity had ever seen. Which didn’t fit with Orange’s demonstrated inability to lie. She was the Element of Honesty, whether she admitted it or not.

She tried to imagine what it must be like for Orange. She imagined what she might do to keep Sweetie Belle safe. Would she die for her sister? In a heartbeat. Would she kill? Rarity realized that she had never even considered that possibility.

“I’ll do it,” she said. “Release me and I’ll do it.”

Orange nodded, but she hesitated to approach. Even though they had both consented, neither one was eager to initiate the exchange. It was the kind of situation that a pony might decide to delay a little, thought Rarity, and then delay more and more, since at any given moment it was better just to put things off for just another second longer.

Orange’s thoughts were much the same. But then she realized that this was the sort of waiting she had been using for a year now, the waiting that had been slowly eating away at her conscience and her spirit, until she had begun spending her days following orders without hesitation and her nights drinking herself to sleep. Ignoring every cowardly instinct, she brought the key forward in her mouth and undid Rarity’s shackles.

“Just so you know,” she said. “Just because you have to rough me up to fool the Queen doesn’t mean I have to be around for that part. I’d prefer it if you finish me as painlessly as possible and save all the scrapes and bruises for after I’m gone.”

Rarity was still trying to come to terms with the situation. “That’s depressingly blunt of you.”

Orange shrugged, her terror only breaking through in the quivering instability of the gesture. “Desperate times,” she stammered before she stepped back and lay down, trying hard to relax. “Just get this over with.”

She tensed with each hoofstep she heard Rarity make. Never before had she felt so exposed, and part of it made her giddy. There was nopony else she would trust with such a critical task.

She forced her eyes open, watching Rarity step into her field of vision. Even though the mare had been locked up for a week, despite the dirt in her coat and her ragged and disheveled mane and fetlocks, despite the obvious weariness in the unicorn’s eyes, Orange was breathlessly captivated.

Orange continued to lie still and wait. Neither pony made any action, both of them taking in the situation and the levels of trust they had both surprised themselves by exhibiting.

Rarity weighed her options. She wanted freedom. She needed freedom. If she wanted to strike a blow to Nightmare Moon’s reign, here and now was the time and place to do it. She made up her mind.

As Orange watched and waited tensely, Rarity lay down beside her and wrapped the two of them in a tight hug. And while it certainly wasn’t what Orange had been expecting, she realized that this calm serenity, this gentle touch, was a better outcome than anything she had been planning on. She wanted to cry, and she knew that Rarity would let her, but she didn’t want to ruin the stillness of the moment. She felt Rarity nuzzle her exposed neck, leaving a soft kiss in the nape. Orange felt relaxed as the fear of her death was pushed from her mind. She sighed, perhaps a bit too audibly to claim it was just from relief, but it was the only means she could think of to ease the pressure rising up within her. The feeling of relaxation gave way to an energetic excitement that was somehow in itself completely fulfilling, and Orange prayed that this moment, this strange sensation of lying tranquilly still while bubbling with enthusiasm, would last as long as she could savor it.

Then the moment ended, and Rarity stood, returning to the wall where she had been chained. “Alright, you can lock me back up now,” she said indifferently, as if the entire affair hadn’t happened.

Orange didn’t register the request at first, still lost in the bliss of the embrace. She stirred slowly when she finally realized that Rarity had left her. “What?”

“Lock me back up. Go on your way. Just promise me you’ll come back, of course.”

Orange wasn’t sure what she was feeling. It seemed as though her goals and aspirations had been torn away from her, and she felt the sting of a tantalizing gift being revoked. And even though she had been given something even more precious, she was at its mercy instead of being in control. “But you have to…” she protested. “For them…”

“I’m not going to do this to you. There has to be a better way. If we just bide our time and wait for the right moment…”

The fire that had been miraculously quelled once again sprang up with newfound fury. “No!” Orange screamed. “I am done waiting! I am sick and tired of waiting while the world burns around me. I deserve to get burned like all the rest of them. Don’t you understand that? I’ve hurt ponies. I’ve hurt a lot of ponies. And now I’m able to save the ponies I care about. And you will not stand in the way of that.”

Rarity balked. “You can’t make me kill you!” she cried. She watched the now-fuming Orange for a response, but she wasn’t prepared when Orange punched her in the face, knocking the unicorn off-balance and onto the floor.

She looked up at Orange in surprise and rolled to dodge another blow.

She backed away from the mare as she stood. “By Luna, what do you think…” she managed to stammer before a kick knocked her down again. “This is insane.”

“I am done waiting,” said Orange coldly. “Empathy isn’t working. If you won’t choose to help me, I’ll make you help me.”

“I want to help!” cried Rarity. “But not like this. This isn’t the solution.”

Orange began advancing on Rarity again. “You want me to stop?” she asked.

“Yes!”

“Then stop me.” And she charged.

Rarity tried to leap out of the way, but Orange still succeeded in ramming into her shoulder, sending her spinning.

“This is ridiculous!” she cried. “I’m not going to fight you! Not after we just… I just… You can’ t be serious.”

Orange wheeled and began marching toward Rarity. “I am completely serious,” she hissed. “Dead serious. More serious than I have ever been in my entire life. I need you to do this for me. You seem to be willing to do anything else I ask.”

Rarity noticed that she was crying, even as she continued her assault. The unicorn grabbed onto her again, pulling them tightly together. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she warned, “no matter what you do. Even if you put me in danger, I’m not going to fight back.”

“Ten minutes ago you said you wanted to kick my head in.”

Orange had given up trying to stand steadily, and Rarity’s weight on her pulled them both to the ground. “That was before I knew that you wanted me to. And right now, I don’t know what kind of stunt you’re trying to pull, but it won’t work. You want me to defend myself? Too bad. You can’t make me do something I don’t want to do. I thought we’d gone over that point already.”

Rarity felt the other mare continue to pummel her, but the blows weren’t particularly painful. “Do it!” cried Orange, howling in frustration but without any sort of anger. “Kill me or I’ll kill you!”

“You’re holding back, Applejack. You don’t want to do this either. So just stop, and we’ll figure something out. You want to save your family? Fine. I’ll help you. But for now you have something valuable: Nightmare Moon’s trust. Would killing yourself save your family from her wrath? Maybe. Would it make up for everything that the Queen’s ordered you to do? No. Would it ruin our biggest chance at actually putting a stop to her forever, instead of just slowing her down? Absolutely. You want peace? You can have it. You want me? Yesterday I would have called it impossible, but you’re winning me over. But I won’t let you give up this easily. I won’t let you take the easy way out so that she can’t extort you anymore. But you’re not alone. You’ll never be alone ever again if you don’t want to be.”

Rarity calmly awaited Orange’s response. Gradually, the earth pony mare’s struggling slowed and she broke down into soft sobs. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

Rarity wasn’t sure what to say to counsel her, but as she opened her mouth to try anyway, a low and dull echoless thud interrupted her, its grotesqueness shocking her into silence. Orange jerked, stiffened, and then collapsed on top of her. Horrified, Rarity froze until she felt Orange being pushed off of her. Looking up, she saw Rainbow Dash eyeing Orange’s prone body with disgust.

“Oh, sweet Celestia!” cried Rainbow Dash when she noticed Rarity looking at her. She knelt down to hug Rarity, overcome first with concern, and then with surprise when the unicorn rejected her and scooted backward. “Are you alright?” Rainbow asked, worried.

“Rainbow Dash?” Rarity was too surprised to think clearly. “What did you just do? What did… Where did you come from? What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to rescue you, of course. She didn’t hurt you, did she?”

“Orange? No! For once in her miserable life she was trying to do something right, and you just… you just… heavens, you didn’t… kill her, did you?”

“Would serve her right if I did,” muttered Rainbow Dash, who begrudgingly went and checked for a pulse. “Nope. She’s alive. Want me to fix that?”

“No! How do you think I got out of those chains? She set me free, Rainbow.”

“Oh.” Rainbow spared another glance at the still-unconscious mare. “Sorry. But it looked like…”

“I don’t care what it looked like!” interrupted Rarity, a moment before she realized what it probably did look like. “She wasn’t hurting me.” She paused, suddenly confused. “And who set you free?”

“I don’t know. You, maybe. Last time I was in here, something just broke. I knew what they wanted me to do, but I didn’t have to.”

“I don’t buy that. If their spells were that easy to break, they wouldn’t be using them.”

“Okay then, here’s a theory. I’m the Element of Loyalty, right? I mean, I am literally Loyalty made flesh. I couldn’t betray a friend if I wanted to, no matter how much magic was trying to get me to do it. When the spell tried to make me choose Nightmare Moon over you, it just ran into a wall and stopped working. If I were anypony else I’d still be a zombie. Fortunately, I’m me. And being me, I don’t want to send a second more than I have to in this Celestia-forsaken dump. We’re busting out of here.”

Rarity gestured to Madame Orange, who groaned as she slowly began to come to. “And what about her?” she asked. “Are we just going to leave her here?”

“We’re not taking her with us, if that’s what you’re asking. She lied to you, Rarity. She lied to all of us, betrayed us, made our lives living hells. And the whole time she’s been creeping on you like some sort of obsessed fangirl. She was crazy about you, with an emphasis on crazy, so forgive me for not having the patience to ask whether or not she was attacking you. She’s dangerous and unpredictable and if you have any sympathy for somepony like her, you need to get over yourself and realize that she’s not worth it.”

Rarity watched Orange struggle to sit, touching the back of her head where Rainbow had kicked her and bringing the hoof away wet. She winced, and Rarity saw the pain flash across her face. That face had incited so much in her, Rarity realized. The face that had driven her to anger and a bitter tongue had also managed to draw out sympathy. Finally able to take a step back and see Orange as a complete mare, Rarity had no idea what to make of what she saw.

“Let’s just leave,” she told Rainbow. “I need to think.”

Orange panicked and intruded on the conversation. “Don’t. Please.” Her voice was weak, strained, defeated. “If you leave me here, she’ll know. She’ll know I set you free.”

“No she won’t,” said Rainbow. “I’m pretty sure I remember rescuing Rarity from a cretin like you. I saved her, not you. You wish you had the courage to play the hero. You wish you’d done enough good for Nightmare Moon to hurt you. But you never will, because you’ll always be her pawn. We all know that you’re nothing. So when Nightmare Moon shows up and asks you what happened, you can go back to being her little dog and tell her the truth. Tell her that Rainbow Dash saved the day while you were too much of a coward to help.”

“It’s okay,” added Rarity, trying to comfort her. “You have the injury from Rainbow Dash’s attack. You did your best to stop us, but she overpowered you. Nightmare Moon will buy it. You can spy on her, be a pony on the inside. Help us take her down from within. You live. Your family lives. Everypony wins. You want to make a difference, Applejack? This is how you do it.”

“I thought I told you when we first met, that’s not my name anymore. It doesn’t describe me. I’m not an Apple any more than you are.”

“Doesn’t it? You’ve set your entire life aside to protect your family. You’ve give them up so you can keep them safe. Loyal to the end, and the most dependable of ponies. You're the most stubborn pony I’ve ever met, but it’s your stubbornness that get things done. When you really get right down to it and move past the superficial similarities, you haven’t changed one bit. You’re the same Applejack I’ve known for years. And maybe I’m crazy. Maybe I’ve become downright insane in the head, because a year ago I never would have said this to Applejack at all, but I’ll say it now. I know that you’re her because there’s one thing that I would never do if you weren’t.”

She approached Orange, who still didn’t have the energy to get up. Rarity sat back on her haunches while Orange lifted her head, bringing them as close to eye level as they could.

“What is it?” asked Orange. “What’s the one thing you would never do unless I was Applejack?”

In response, Rarity lifted Orange’s head in her front hooves and kissed her.

Rainbow Dash gawked, unable to lift her jaw, as the two ponies shared the tender moment. To her, the scene playing out before her was peaceful, serene. Orange, in contrast, had never felt quite as energized. In a single moment she felt the shock race through her, kicking her pulse into gear and cycling her mind through an array of emotions, starting at disbelief and ending somewhere close to the strange intersection of excitement and utter contentment. The moment stretched on.

And then it ended. Orange, feeling full of strength, felt her head being lowered and lifted it of her own accord, diving back in to create a moment of her own. The touch made her feel light-headed, as if she had just been rocketed up to dizzying heights. She had absolutely no desire to return to the earth.

Rainbow continued to watch, unable to escape the feeling that she had just missed some crucial exchange that was necessary for the world to make sense. The situation had long since passed the line into uncomfortable territory. She coughed, and two faces turned toward her, both painted with an intense guilt.

“Not that I’m not enjoying this or anything,” said Rainbow Dash, “but this isn’t really the best time. Should we get a move on with our escape, or should I leave by myself and give you two some alone time to get captured again?”

Orange chuckled. “It’s fine,” she said to Rarity. “Go. You’re right. If Rainbow rescues you, than the Queen can’t blame me. I’ll still get to be her little pet, her loyal hound.”

“Come on,” said Rarity. “You know Rainbow didn’t mean that.”

“Yes, she did. And she’s right. I can’t stand up to her. I’m not strong enough. She terrifies me, and the only thing worse than obeying her is trying to run from her. That’s why she gives me as much freedom as she does. She knows that I won’t ever try to betray her. I don’t have the courage. I’ll keep working for her until the day I finally die, and we both know it.” She was surprised when Rarity embraced her, leaning forward to whisper into her ear.

“Then you’re both wrong. The only pony who can decide what happens is you. You need to ask yourself what you want, and then figure out what you need to do to get it. You only play into her game if you let yourself. And I believe you’re stronger than that. But nothing will change that we don’t make change.”

Orange shook her head, wondering how to get Rarity to understand. “It’s not that easy,” she said. “I wish it were.” Rarity kissed her on the top of her head, and she felt weightless, unburdened, as if the touch was all she needed finally erase the constant presence of the Nightmare. But the feeling only lasted while the kiss did, and when it ended she was once again cold and in the dark; she could still feel that suffocating force of the cloud.

Rarity released her and stood, and the invisible weight intensified. She felt as if she were literally being torn apart, and each step Rarity took dragged another piece of Orange’s own being away from her, spreading her so thinly she might just tear and lose that part of her forever.

“Rainbow and I are leaving now,” Rarity told her. “You can come with us if you want. We won’t force you to stay.”

“Just go,” muttered Orange, remembering the bitterness she felt whenever she mingled with the Queen’s incorporeal form. How dare they tease her with a peace she knew she could never have, dangle love above her head just to remind her that it was forbidden? As far as tormentors went, they were just as bad as the Nightmare Queen. Only with the aid of brief moments of happiness was despair truly felt.

Rarity and Rainbow Dash continued to watch her, uncertain of what to do.

“Go!” cried Madame Orange. “Please.”

“We’ll come back,” said Rarity. “When we need you, that’s when you can decide where you stand. But you’ll always have our support, no matter where we are.”

Orange didn’t respond, unable to even look at her. She kept her head to the ground, listening to the fading hoofbeats as the prisoners trotted away to freedom.

Freedom. Even the word seemed alien.

The hoofbeats vanished, and Orange was left alone in the crushing dark.

Up in the air, Rarity was almost tempted to believe that things were finally back to normal. Granted, she had never ridden a pegasus before, but for the first time in weeks, she was no longer surrounded by reminders that she was in a strange and uncannily eerie land.

“Where to now?” asked Rainbow Dash, reminding them of their situation. “We need to regroup.”

“The farm, then,” said Rarity. “Seems as good a place as any. Applejack should be there.”

Rainbow snickered. “You think you’re up for seeing Applejack?” she asked.

“Of course!” proclaimed Rarity, confused and offended. “Why wouldn’t I... oh.” Her voice lowered, her cordiality becoming deathly serious. “We are not to speak of that, least of all to Applejack. Do you understand?”

“I hear ya,” said Rainbow, still chuckling. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride. It’s probably the last thing you’ll enjoy for a while.”

Rarity fell silent. She couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of discontentment, like something was somehow off, and staring her in the face. Madame Orange’s words echoed around in her head.

I deserve to get burned like all the rest of them. Don’t you understand that?

I’ll keep working for her until the day I finally die, and we both know it.

Go. Just go.

“The last time I was carrying you, you had nearly fallen to your death, hadn’t you?” asked Rainbow, trying to lighten the mood. Instead, she felt her passenger bolt upright, throwing off her balance. “Hey, watch it!” she cried. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Turn around,” was Rarity’s order. “Right now.”

“What?” shouted Rainbow incredulously. “We risk hide and feathers to get out of there and you want to go back? No. We are getting as far away from that miserable torture chamber as possible.”

“I’m serious, Rainbow Dash. Turn around this instant. We’re going back.”

“No, we’re not. This discussion is over.” A moment later, Rainbow felt her wings cramp up and the pair took a nosedive. As she struggled to fully extend her wings, she noticed the blue glow that surrounded them.

“Let go!” she cried as she managed to level off despite the constriction, but only barely. As she began to falter again, she added, “Are you trying to kill us? I said let go!”

“Are you going to turn around?” asked Rarity in a reprimanding tone better suited for a parent punishing a naughty child.

“No!” This seemed to not be the correct answer, since Rainbow felt the telekinetic limb constricitng her wings squeeze, and they began to lose altitude. “Fine. Yes! I’ll turn around. You happy?”

The pressure vanished instantly. Rainbow turned and scowled at her insane friend and discovered the grimmest most anxious expression she had ever seen on Rarity.

She changed direction without a word and turned back the way they had come.

What struck Madame Orange the most as she stepped outside was the wind. At first blustery, and then unnaturally still, the wind intensified and ebbed, shifting directions, as if it hadn’t quite made up its mind. Ferociously tumultuous or deathly calm, either way would have been appropriate.

From the balcony, Orange admired the horizon. The sky was trapped in a perpetual dawn or dusk, as it had been for what seemed like an eternity. The wind had chosen that particular moment to fall silent, and Orange was almost fooled into thinking that she was looking at a photograph. It was the same photograph she had been wandering through for over a year. The same unchanging and unending nightmare.

“Nothing will change that we don’t make change,” Orange repeated. The phrase was even truer now than it had ever been before. All of the days she had begun working for the Queen seemed to blend together in Orange’s mind, like it was a single moment that didn’t end. She wondered if this was the psychological effect of no longer having a sun to observe the passage of time.

Endless. That was the new defining feature of the world. That one word had haunted her, but she’d finally figured it out. It was a riddle, teasing her constantly, but now she’d found the solution. The secret flaw in the Nightmare Queen’s master plan. The hole in the web. Rainbow’s breakout had provided Orange with not only an alibi, but an opportunity.

Madame Orange stepped over the railing.

“I'm sorry, Rarity. I'm really truly sorry. But I'm not the mare you described. Honest? Loyal? That's not me. I never was. I think you have me confused with somepony else. Somepony stronger. I'm not your Applejack. She's out there, somewhere, and you've projected her onto me. But I don't deserve that honor.

“I'm done fighting. I'm so tired now. So unbelievably, bone-numbingly tired. I can't be your spy. I don't have the strength to stand up to the Nightmare Queen. All the strength I had she's managed to take away from me.

“So here I am now. Back at the beginning, faced with the same choice that's been chasing me all these years. I can't run anymore, and it's finally caught up with me. But I can still pull off one last trick. Take away one of the pieces on the Queen's side of the board. I wish I could be a better help, but after everything I've done, this is all I've got left. My final gambit. I can still save my family. Rainbow pushed me. I tried to stop her and she pushed me right off the edge. That's the conclusion she'll come to, right? And then I'll be free. And then we'll all be free. My family will be safe.

“Goodbye, Rarity. You were amazing. The most amazing mare I'd ever met in my life. I didn't deserve you. I took everything away from you, and you found it in yourself to love me anyway. I guess I know now why you're the Element of Generosity. You gave, selflessly, to a pony like me. And all you took was my heart. But even that's too much. Your Applejack is out there, waiting for you. But wherever she is, she's far away from here.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful. But I can’t help you. I can’t go back to her. This is all I have left.”

Orange peered out over the edge, struck by how far the drop was and instinctively grabbing onto the railing with her front hooves out of fear. She tried to figure out the best way to go about it. She wasn’t incredibly eager to leap off. Given her weariness, maybe the best course of action would simply be to let go.

And yet her stubborn limbs refused. She slackened her grip and leaned forward, but the moment she felt the pull of gravity take hold she tightened her hold on the railing. Let go, she commanded herself. Do this for your family. They need you.

She imagined the faces of her family, and what the Nightmare Queen would do to them as punishment if she slipped up by… doing what, exactly? Not jumping wasn’t putting her family in harm’s way, not when she could claim she had been overpowered.

What are you waiting for? she chastised herself. You coward. Think about Apple Bloom. She tried to picture her little sister, living in a world free of the shadow of the Queen.

Horror slowly descended on Orange as she realized she couldn’t recall her sister’s face. She hadn’t been back to the farm much since she had become a Manehattanite. She barely knew her sister at all. And here she was willing to die for her.

Unless…

The realization hit her, hard. This had never been about protecting her family. It was always only Orange. “What do you want?” Rarity had asked her, and while Orange still didn’t have an answer, she realized what definitely wasn’t it.

She was not ready to die. Flooded with relief, she took a step back from the edge.

Her rear hoof banged against the railing she had forgotten was there, despite her earlier death grip on it. She winced in pain, cradling her bruised hoof with her front legs. As she let go of the railing, her body pitched forward, her one remaining hoof on solid ground lost its purchase, and she toppled into the void.

No longer holding on to anything solid, Orange did the only thing she could still do.

She screamed.

“No...” whispered Rarity as she heard the cry hit them. She could see Orange now, plummeting down the edge of the castle. But they were still too far away away. They hadn’t even entered Canterlot yet, although the city had filled most of their vision. “Go faster!” she screamed at Rainbow Dash. “Catch her!”

Since the city stuck out of a mountain, it was possible that if Orange had fallen out of the city limits, she’d still have a long way to fall. But as they got closer, Rarity realized this wasn’t the case.

“We’re not going to make it,” said Rarity, frozen with horror. “I’m going to try and grab her.”

She wasn’t even sure if her magic would work at this range, or if she was accurate enough to grab a moving target. But with no other choice, she had to put faith in her abilities and try. She focused on the falling pony, imagining a rope connecting them, and a shield protecting her. She closed her eyes and strained, trying to summon as much power as she could. Her magic had certainly improved with all the cloud-walking spells Orange had convinced her to provide them with, and she prayed that would be enough.

“It worked!” cheered Rainbow Dash, and Rarity opened her eyes to discover that Orange had indeed slowed in her descent, and she was enveloped by a dark blue aura. “You did it.”

That was strange, thought Rarity. That had been a lot easier than she thought it would have been. She had just attempted what she considered to be a monumental undertaking, and she had barely felt any strain at all. In her past experiences, lifting an object, even magically, did not prevent a pony from feeling its weight. But right now, she certainly didn’t feel like she was lifting anypony at all.

And besides, wasn’t her magical aura a little bit lighter than that?

“Uh oh,” she whispered.

“What’s wrong?” asked Rainbow Dash as they closed the remaining distance and landed in a small garden by the palace. “You caught her.”

Ahead of them, Orange was softly lowered to the ground, where she collapsed.

“No, I didn’t,” said Rarity.

“What are talking about?”

The fourth pony seemed to appear from nowhere, stepping out of shadows that were far too small to hide her. She was taller than the rest of them, and she towered over Orange as she grinned down on her maliciously. Her black coat was hidden only by her crystal helmet and body armor, and Orange could see the sharp fangs in her mouth. Her mane blew softly in the wind, nearly transparent and etherial.

“Go on, pretend I’m not here,” urged Nightmare Moon. “This has been exciting so far, and I’m so curious to see what happens next.”

Spitfire had been to Appleloosa once before the darkness fell, back when she wore the bright outfit of a Wonderbolt, instead of the cheap imitation uniforms the Queen had ordered them to wear. She wondered if it could have been possible for the Queen to pick a more repugnant color scheme, and whether she had done so on purpose. The bright yellow trim on the dark purple uniform was the closest Spitfire had ever come to hating something so reminiscent of the past life she had loved.

She glanced down at the makeshift replacement outfit she had managed to throw together as she walked. The colors were right, even if it was just a pair of pants and a hooded coat. Dressing in blue just felt more natural for her, and she figured it was the perfect way to commemorate her return to her priorities.

Following Applejack hadn’t brought back Soarin. She really shouldn’t have been surprised. But finally separated from the Queen, she was able to step back and look at the world. And the clarity surprised her.

The world was still tainted by Soarin’s memories, but that was okay. She liked it that way. She remembered that when they’d performed their show in Appleloosa, so long ago, Soarin had managed to strike it up with a young settler pony from the Apple family. She wondered what had happened to him. She hadn’t seen the stallion around anywhere.

Spitfire arrived at her destination, a smaller building near the center of town. Like most of Appleloosa, it was in disrepair. All she cared about was that it appeared to be abandoned.

She made her way through the kitchen, noting that a pan of curry was simmering on the stove. Her stomach groaned, and she wondered if it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle if she asked to join them for lunch. The caretaker was such a good chef, Spitfire wouldn’t mind being put in her care if she had to.

Following a door in the back of the kitchen, she arrived in the bedroom. The room was sparse; anything of any value had been taken when its former occupants left. All that remained was a chipped and dirty vase on a dusty table, and a bed that looked as if it could far apart if more than one pony was on it at a time. A pegasus pony stood over the bed, changing the dressing on her patient’s bandages.

“How’s she doing?” Spitfire asked.

“Not good,” sighed Fluttershy. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her.”

Spitfire moved next to her and she felt pity as she looked at the pony in the bed. Her burns weren’t that bad, but she still seemed to be in a lot of pain.

“I thought you should know that we did it,” said Spitfire, desperate to change the topic. “Let her know when she wakes up. We captured Trixie, and we’re that much closer to making things right again.”

“Like she cares,” muttered Fluttershy angrily. “You don’t honestly think she gives a feather what happens to us, do you? It’s her fault we’re in this mess to begin with.”

“You shouldn’t be so harsh on her. She’s your friend,” said Spitfire, guiding her to the rocking chair and sitting on the floor beside her. “I know these past weeks haven’t been easy, but we need to be able count on each other.”

“You’re right that I should be nicer to her,” admitted Fluttershy. “And I try to be nice to her when she’s awake. But she’s not my friend. And I look at her and I see my friend and it’s hard. I can’t even take care of her without remembering what she took from us. I know that my special talent is taking care of animals and things, and I know I’m the Element of Kindness, but it’s hard when it’s her. She brings out the worst in me.” She looked at the purple unicorn in the bed and then at Spitfire. “Does that make sense? Is that a thing? I don’t think I’m scared of her, not anymore, but it’s still just so hard to be around her.”

“I don’t blame you,” said Spitfire. “This isn’t easy for any of us.”

“Can I tell you something?” asked Fluttershy. “Something I haven’t told anypony since you found us lost in the woods up north?”

“My lips are sealed.”

Fluttershy pointed outside and stood up. Spitfire followed her out of the room.

“It should have been her,” said Fluttershy once she decided it was impossible for Twilight to hear them. “I want my Twilight back. She should have been the one to live.”

Keeping an insane and dangerous unicorn captive didn’t exactly fill Applejack with certainty of safety. The mare knew she probably wasn’t going to get much sleep. There were far too many pressing issues, too many irons roasting to painfully blistering heat in the fire. But the exertion of capturing Trixie had left her exhausted, so dammit if she wasn’t going to try and get some shuteye anyway. As long as they kept exposing her to poison joke, she would be harmless. Spike would be much harder to contain, but for now Applejack was willing to trust him. He certainly had a lot of explaining to do, though.

She stumbled into her bedroom, staggering a little in the darkness, but there was no sense in striking a match. She yawned and stretched as she made out the edges of her bed.

And then she froze when she noticed the shape in the bed.

Scratch that. The two shapes in the bed, one much smaller than the other. Applejack gasped and backstepped, painfully butting into the wall. Her pulse quickened as she realized the larger figure was looking at her. Thinking quickly, she pushed open the curtains, letting the ambient light fall on the other ponies in the room.

The larger one, now clearly a mare, drew her attention first. She was filthy and unkempt, her tail in knots and her mane falling down in front of her face, hiding one eye completely and creating a forest through which the other one was able to peer through, although it wasn’t looking at anything in particular. The mare’s mouth had broken into an impossibly large grin. Applejack followed the mare’s stained pink coat down her front leg to the butcher’s knife she held threateningly close to the second pony. Applejack’s motherly protective instincts flared up as she got a closer look at the smaller figure, a small filly, her red hair tied up in a bow.

At the sight of Applejack, the pink mare’s grin seemed to widen even further, a feat Applejack would not have considered possible. “Hello, Applejack,” she cooed. “Oh. I’m sorry. You’ve been going by ‘Star Glimmer’, haven’t you?”

“Pinkie Pie?”

The mare howled in irritation. “No more Pinkie Pie,” she hissed. “Pinkie Pie was the name my family had for me. I don’t really have a family anymore, do I?”

Applejack forced herself to look away from Pinkie’s eyes to get a glance at her cutie mark. Hearts instead of balloons. She didn’t know if the observation made it better or worse. If anything, it seemed to indicate that this wasn’t a prank. As far as she knew, the Pinkie Pie of this world wasn’t much of a prankster.

“What are you doing with Apple Bloom?” asked Applejack, her voice cracking.

“Call it justice.” Pinkamena’s features softened as she admired the sleeping form of the filly. She stroked Apple Bloom’s mane, adjusting her body to cradle the smaller pony protectively. “An eye for an eye. And a foal for a foal.”

Our Lives And Our Freedom

Three sets of eyes settled on the alicorn. Nightmare Moon grinned cheekily as she eyed each one of them, giving them a solid examination while offering her most intimidating and bemusing smile. Rainbow Dash and Rarity exchanged a fearful glance, while Orange refused to look at anything, keeping her head hung low and her eyes shut tight.

Nopony spoke. Nightmare Moon, bothered by the silence, growled softly between her clenched teeth to fill the void.

“I know you're all thrilled to see me,” she told them mirthfully, “but please, don't everypony talk at once.”

Her self-assured display of confidence was enough to stir Rarity to action. “I see you finally decided to show your hideous face,” she spat. “Took you long enough, really. A week we've been here, guests in your castle, and you've finally worked up the nerve to talk to us instead of hiding behind henchponies.” As she spoke, she looked deep into Nightmare Moon's face, trying to glean her expression. Everypony could plainly see that the courage was a thinly disguised and coldly controlled rage. Yet the alicorn was stolid, and watching back. Analyzing. Rarity began to wonder exactly what they were up against.

In her world they had defeated the rogue princess before she had been given a chance to demonstrate any real sort of ability. Somehow, Rarity was convinced that stopping the other Nightmare Moon would be just as easy. But now that the princess of the night had a home field advantage and time to build a defense, Rarity began to realize that she wasn't just dealing with a petty grudge-bearer. She was dealing with a clever methodological petty grudge-bearer. A grudge-bearer that was waiting for the puny pegasus and frail unicorn to act first and waiting for them to mess up.

“Take note of this momentous occasion, little foals,” announced Nightmare Moon. “You proved yourselves to be enough of a nuisance that I had to step in and handle things directly. That's quite an accomplishment, you know. Your first real victory, and your last.

“So that's it, then?” asked Rainbow Dash. “Now you kill us?”

“Kill you? Is that your answer to everything? Don't project your primitive values onto me. Why would I kill you? Imagine if I had killed Trixie when she stepped out of line. I'd be out one of my most useful subordinates. Instead I helped her see the light, and look where it's gotten us. No, I'm not the killer here. But you almost caused the death of poor old Applejack tonight. What do you have to say for yourselves?”

By some mix of absurdity and incredulity, Rainbow wasn't sure how to respond to the claim. “What? We didn't try and kill her,”

Nightmare scoffed. “Really? I distinctly remember her saying you pushed her right off the railing. Or how about back in the dungeon, Rainbow Dash, when you offered to make sure she would never touch your precious Rarity again?” The alicorn looked out at the other ponies' surprised faces and chuckled. “Yes, that's right. I heard what you all were scheming down there. You can't hide from me; let that be lesson number one.”

Nightmare Moon stepped over the earth pony, her assuredly smug demeanor dropping instantly at the sight of the smaller mare. She struck the ground next to Orange's head with her hoof twice in succession, and the orange pony winced from the noise. She dared to glance up at the alicorn, but a single moment of the piercing stare was enough to make her duck back down and hide her head between her forehooves.

“While we have the time, let's get a few things straight,” lectured Nightmare Moon. “A pop quiz, to see how much you've been paying attention.” she chuckled haughtily, levitating Madame Orange close to her face. Lifting one of her hooves, she drew a line down the side of the earth pony's head, and when she reached the lower jaw, she gripped it tightly. Orange winced from discomfort. “What made you think you could escape me?” she seethed. “The night will last forever, now, just like I promised. I cherish the night for its beauty. All I want is to share that beauty with the rest of Equestria. And trying to leave the party before it's over? That's just rude.”

A flash of light overtook Rainbow Dash's vision, followed nearly immediately afterward by a crack, a sound Dash recognized as supersonic breach. The air between Nightmare Moon and Orange exploded, throwing the earth pony into the wall of the castle, where she crumpled to the ground.

Rainbow snapped, deciding immediately that Nightmare had crossed a line. “She's had enough,” she shouted. “She's not your servant anymore. You can't keep her here.”

“Oh, Rainbow Dash,” said Nightmare Moon condescendingly. “Why are you so convinced I've been holding her against her will? Orange chose me. She works for me because she wants to. In fact, her family isn't in any danger any more. I won't hurt them, because that would be far too bothersome, and I don't need it. She'll be my faithful servant regardless.”

“That's not true,” seethed Rainbow Dash, with a tinge of denial. “Applejack is done with you.”

“If you're right,” intoned Nightmare Moon, “then why isn't she speaking up for herself? Look at her. That's not the face of a pony who wants to be free.”

Rainbow, bitter and angry to prove the alicorn wrong, looked to Orange to ask the mare to back her up. She stopped when she noticed that Orange wasn't looking back at her. In fact, she wasn't looking at anything, her head buried into her chest, burning with resignation and shame.

“She won't back you up because she knows the truth. The truth is, I own her.” A single rough telekinetic yank brought Madame Orange back within Nightmare Moon's reach. “Isn't that right, sweetie?” she asked, her voice overflowing with belittling baby-talk. “I'm your excuse. You've hurt a lot of ponies, miss Orange. You killed the only mare you ever really trusted, and I didn't even tell you to do that. That one was all on your own. Talk about being proactive.”

“You're lying!” cried Rarity. “Applejack loved Twilight. You made her put that bomb on the ship.”

Nightmare Moon smirked. “Oh, really? Why don't you ask her that?”

“That's not true!” Rarity told Orange. “Please, tell me she's making that up.”

Orange didn't respond.

Nightmare Moon continued addressing Orange. “As long as you continue to work for me and do as I say, even if you tell yourself you're just biding your time until the day you betray me, especially if you tell yourself that, then it will give you a sense of relief. But you won't betray me. Deep down, we both know that. Because doing so would require you to face the fact that all that pain and suffering you've dished out because I told you to was for nothing. That's the truth of the matter. You need me, to ease your guilty conscience.”

She leaned in close to her captor, who squirmed in the grip, trying to pull her face away from the intimate confrontation. “You asked me why I refused to use magic to take away your self-control and make you my puppet. The truth is, miss Orange, that magic was never required. I don't need any special powers to make you a lifeless doll, because you already are one. And we both know it.”

The magic glow around Orange dissipated, who collapsed again, her limbs unable to support her.

Nightmare Moon turned to address the other ponies for the final time. “It was nice to have this chat,” she told them. “Consider this your warning. Go back to whatever world you came from, and I won't waste any more time with you. Very busy, you see, with a kingdom to run. But know that if I as much as see either of you again...” she trailed off, intending to allow the threat to remain unsaid.

“Then you'll kill us?” Rarity attempted to complete the sentence.

“Don't be barbaric,” moaned Nightmare Moon sarcastically. “Even then I won't kill you. No matter how much you beg.”

A sudden cold wind bit into Rarity's coat as Nightmare Moon floated above them, Madame Orange trailing behind her, once again wrapped in a magical grasp.

“What do you think?” Rarity asked Rainbow Dash, putting on the bravest front she could. “Are we going to settle for our lives?”

Rainbow forced a grin back. “Not a chance,” she announced before pushing off in full pursuit.

What abilities Nightmare Moon may have possessed in raw power, she lacked in reflexes. Unprepared for the assault, the alicorn was hit with the full force of the supersonic charge. The ponies were thrown into a spin, with Nightmare Moon barely managing to orient herself before hitting the ground. Rainbow Dash, taking advantage of the confusion, looped around and grabbed Orange out of the magic glow and carrying her back toward Rarity.

“So this is how you want to play the game,” muttered Nightmare Moon. “Pests. You should learn to be more deferent in the presence of a goddess.”

Rainbow smiled inwardly as she shifted Orange around one of her forelegs and picked up Rarity with the other. “So,” she grunted, as she struggled to lift both of her passengers into the air. “I think I've had enough excitement for one day, don't you?”

And then the air beneath Rainbow Dash exploded, tossing her head over tail. It took all of her strength to prevent the other two ponies from slipping from her grasp while she righted herself.

“Rainbow, dear...” warned Rarity.

“I noticed,” muttered Rainbow. “Hang on. I don't think she wants us to leave.” As she spoke, she weaved to her left to avoid a spark of light that had appeared on her right. A moment later, the spark similarly exploded, and Rainbow could feel the heat coming off of the blast. She averted her eyes and tried to put more strength into her wings. When she looked ahead again, she found herself nearly nose to nose with Nightmare Moon herself.

“Hello,” teased the alicorn, and Rainbow barely had time to dive down to avoid another head-on collision.

“You don't think she's just playing with us, do you?” asked Rarity as Rainbow banked sharply to avoid a pillar of earth that seemed to have grown up out of nowhere. She was now positioned in Rainbow's grasp so that she could see behind them. She watched as Nightmare Moon turned to face them, slowly and cautiously. The alicorn didn't seem to be bothered by the chase at all.

“If she is, then that's her mistake,” said Rainbow Dash as she began to gain altitude again. “Rainbow Dash does not play games.”

“But look at her,” remarked Rarity. “Or don't. I can see her fine. It's the look of somepony in control. She hasn't dropped that face this whole time. She has us right where she wants us.”

“Not for long. Hold on.” And with those words Rainbow Dash carried Rarity and Orange over a low wall, and Rarity watched the ground drop out from under her. The wall, she figured, must have served to prevent any unfortunate ponies from tumbling off the edge of the cliff where the palace was rooted.

Rarity barely had time to catch her breath before Rainbow closed her wings , and the ponies entered freefall.

Rarity made a mental note to kill Rainbow Dash as soon as she was done saving her life.

The wind rose into a ferocious storm that tore at her mane and drowned out all other sounds. How Rainbow hadn't dropped either of them yet, Rarity was clueless. Her vision began to narrow as the world closed in around her, continuing to hammer her from all sides and threatening to make her toss her lunch. This was asinine, she cried to herself. This was more than she had ever signed up for. This was... this was...

This was exhilarating.

She head was pointed upward and was kept in place by the wind; she had no idea how close she was to the ground. She could only stare back up as the mountain grew taller than she had ever thought possible, branches and rocks rushing past dangerously close to her head and adding to what looked like, from her vantage point, an impossible long road. And then she watched Nightmare Moon dive over the edge after them. And gain.

Her head still forced upward, Rarity didn't see the canopy until it slapped her across the back like an ocean filled with shards of glass. She winched as a particularly sharp branch slashed against her leg. But, still held in place by the rough winds and Rainbow's grip, she could do nothing to protect herself or control her descent. Rainbow, expecting the trees but unprepared for their assault, was similarly buffeted, losing control of her flight, bouncing off of trunks and branches like a glorified pinball. Fearing for the safety of her companions being dragged through the trees, she dropped Orange, planning to let her fall to the ground and pick her up there.

And then they were through the canopy, and Rainbow quickly re-extended her wings, although the influx of pain prevented her from opening them fully. She spotted Orange below them and dived, swooping her up again. From there, she began the process of navigating the tree trunks, often with less than a second between them coming into view and a narrow avoidance. Rarity gasped reflexively with each tree that narrowly missed them.

Rainbow had long since lost her sense of direction. She wasn't willing to rise up out of the canopy cover to figure out where she was, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to, in any case. The race was slowly beginning to take its toll on her stamina. It struck her as a bit atypical, that she should be tiring out so quickly. Although she figured that carrying two full-grown ponies wasn't very typical either. Still, the air around her felt heavy, both against her wings and in her breath. Her muscles ached as she strained against unfamiliar bonds.

Rainbow Dash's vision glowed a dull yet dark violet, and she found herself losing altitude. Unable to glide and maintain momentum, she switched tactics, resorting to flapping, and quickly came to a curious observation: her strain was only apparent in some of her motions. Raising her wings was easy, but lowering them, providing lift, was more difficult than she had ever remembered. Breathing in was somehow much easier than breathing out, as if the air wanted to fill her lungs. Unable to make sense of what was happening, Rainbow felt confusion and fear take over. The next tree seemed to come out of nowhere, and while she was able to avoid it, she was unable to make room for her companions.

The trunk slammed into Rarity's back legs and Orange's side, sending the trio tumbling and the two passenger ponies sailing out of Rainbow's grip. As she banked, eyes desperately scouring her surroundings, Rainbow Dash lost flight entirely.

Miraculously, she landed on her feet, but they buckled almost instantly. Her body felt sluggish, heavy, as if she were carrying a great weight. The dark violet light continued to surround her, and finally forced to consider it, she recognized it as a magical aura.

“Are we done yet?” called a chilling voice that seemed more bored than angry. With great effort, Rainbow managed to turn behind her in time to watch Nightmare Moon touch down at the edge of a nearby clearing.

Rainbow finally located Rarity and Orange, who had both managed to land within the clearing, both of which were surrounded with an even more intense glow than the one that seemed to be everywhere. No, not everywhere, she realized. Just in front of her eyes, and probably the rest of her body as well.

Three spells to limit their movement and keep them bound to the earth.

“Amazing what a simple gravity charm can do to a pony who depends on being lighter than air.” A tug around Rainbow's neck dragged her closer to Nightmare Moon and into the clearing where she stood. She was pulled until they were touching, the alicorn standing over her prone and frozen victim. “Like clipping wings. Now, let's discuss punishments. The problem with punishments is that they legitimize the infringement. They accept and acknowledge your deviant behavior as part of some system of justice. For some of you, the punishment is almost... gratifying. You'll take it with a smile. No. Punishing you wouldn't accomplish anything either.” Rainbow Dash struggled to breathe, a combination of the gravity spell and the alicorn's imposing presence. She felt as if a vice were pressing down on her lungs, adding a pain and light-headedness that made focusing difficult. She only had enough coherence for one thought: how terrified she was. When Nightmare Moon shrugged, offering a snort of disgust and then finally lifting herself off of the pegasus, Rainbow Dash managed to find another emotion: relief, mixed with a sense of shame at her inability to take charge of the situation.

“No,” mused Nightmare Moon in a way that was clearly scripted. “I can't punish you.” Her gaze fell on Rarity, who was teetering on the fringes of consciousness.

“I'll punish her instead.”

Momentary confusion gave way to horrified comprehension. “Wait, I...” Rainbow began, but she she realized Nightmare Moon was done paying any attention to her.

Rarity's eyes widened at the face looming above her. Any previous joviality was gone; she may have been toying with them before, thought Rarity, but now she was serious. The alicorn's horn lit, the dark violet light somehow seeming to blot out the starlight and make the world darker. Rarity winced in preparation of Nightmare Moon's revenge.

At first, nothing appeared to happen. The face of Nightmare Moon wavered behind a veil of magic, with a sharp gaze that made Rarity painfully self-aware. Her breath caught in her throat, and she forced it out only with difficulty. She felt as if a great weight were being pressed down on her chest, stretching out some limbs and constricting others. And then the feeling shifted, as if now there were something inside of her lungs trying to force its way out. She squirmed, pushed and pulled by the sudden weight that made her hooves feel like stone and filled her head with lead. Her mind even more sluggish than before, she danced on the verge of comprehension, only understanding on some basic level what Nightmare was doing.

Rainbow watched aghast as the strength of the gravity spell around Rarity increased, pinning her to the ground. Next to her, Madame Orange seemed to have finally cohered enough to take notice of her surroundings.

Drawing reserves of energy from within, Rarity attempted to use her front hooves to push herself up. As she began to rise, she saw Nightmare Moon frown and furrow her brow, exhibiting a minimal level of effort and exertion. The glow of her horn flickered momentarily, and the weight of Rarity's body doubled nearly instantly, and she collapsed to the ground again with a cry of pain. Her head was burning as the air threatened to crush her skull.

“I promise you she would scream if she could,” assured Nightmare Moon in a way that wasn't at all reassuring. “But screaming requires breath, which is a bit of a premium for her. I wonder if she'll asphyxiate before or after the pressure breaks her spine. Or maybe her heart will give out? I could reverse the spell and watch her catch the bends. So many ways she could go. Which one would you prefer?”

Slowly, the grin began to return to the alicorn's face. She turned back to Rainbow Dash to watch the effect that the punishment was having on her. Hopefully, she figured, this would teach the brash pegasus about the recklessness of her actions. Instead, she was shocked by a sight she hadn't considered, the reemergence of a variable she had presumed eliminated.

Madame Orange, despite her own gravity spell, had risen to her hooves in defiance. “Stop this,” the earth pony demanded with a calmness that shocked everypony. “Let her go.”

For a couple of seconds, Nightmare Moon was too shocked to do anything except stare, her jaw slightly agape as she struggled to understand the manner in which things had just taken a turn for the very very interesting. “I'm sorry?” she asked. “I must of misheard you.” The antagonism in the end of her sentence made its true meaning clear. She had misheard her. That was the story she was giving Orange a chance to confirm. Because otherwise, even the alicorn herself wasn't entirely sure what she would do.

She took a threatening step toward Orange, who took a corresponding step back. “I said,” stuttered Orange, her voice already cracking, “I s-said, let her go. Please. Don't hurt her like this.”

“Why?” The alicorn asked, not just to put Orange on the spot, to destroy her self-certainty, but also out of genuine curiosity. “Why do you care so much about what happens to her? Unless...” Recognition washed over Nightmare Moon, and she eased off on the confrontation. “I understand now,” she murmured, inspired. “This is just a Romeo and Juliet type story, isn't it? Of course, we all know how that ends.”

She began cackling gleefully, struck with inspiration. “You don't seem to understand how powerless you are. Perhaps I should show you just how much your lives are like putty in my hooves.”

A dark aura began shimmering around each of the other ponies, covering them. The magical glow lifted Rarity and Orange and dragged them close to a once-again grinning Nightmare Moon, while Rainbow Dash was pushed back against the ground.

“Loyalty is a finicky thing, Rainbow Dash. You know that better than most. It often asks us to take actions that are incompatible. It asks us to make tough decisions. It's not enough to just be loyal. You have to be loyal to something. Some cause.”

Rainbow began to form a sickening suspicion where this conversation was going, a suspicion further evinced by the brighter shine from the alicorn's horn. A dark mist seeped from her eyes, filling the space around her and suffocating her two hostages. And as Rainbow watched, the mist invaded the eyes of her companions, causing them to glaze over and lose focus. She couldn't tell if they were still conscious. When the mist dissipated, the two ponies hovered for a second, either knocked out or merely stunned, minuscule in comparison to the alicorn holding them. Then the magic around them faded and they collapsed to the ground.

“Rarity!” cried Rainbow as she made a dash toward her friend. To her surprise, Nightmare Moon let her.

“I'm okay,” groaned Rarity as she picked herself up and shakily returned to two hooves. “Check on Orange. Whatever Nightmare Moon was trying to do, I don't think it worked.” She paused and repeated the sentence silently to herself, as if she was checking to see how it tasted on her tongue. “That's funny,” she murmured.

Her confusion and hesitation triggered every fear in Rainbow Dash. “What's funny?” she cried, panicking. She grabbed Rarity roughly by the shoulders. “What happened? What did Nightmare Moon do to you?”

Rarity groaned and pushed Rainbow back onto all fours. “Calm down, Rainbow Dash,” she demanded. “This is hardly the time to throw yourself into hysteria. I am fine. Better than fine. I'm calm, which is something you could stand to be right now, too. We need to keep our heads level if we want to...” The unicorn trailed off as she stared out at something behind Rainbow. “Oh my,” she breathed.

“Rarity?” Failing to get her attention, Rainbow turned slowly to see what had captivated the unicorn, only to discover that she was looking at Nightmare Moon with a sense of wonder. “I don't get it. What's she doing?” Rarity's behavior was strange, thought Rianbow. She was almost acting like...

“She's beautiful,” said Rarity wistfully, and Rainbow Dash's heart froze in her chest.

“You didn't,” Rainbow told the alicorn. It wasn't the same reaction she herself had felt, but there was still only one good explanation for Rarity's behavior.

“Why thank you, Rarity. You're quite lovely yourself.” Nightmare Moon responded to the compliment with a fake sincerity that Rarity missed entirely. Instead, the unicorn seemed to melt under the praise.

Rarity broke into the most beaming grin and stomped her front hooves in excitement.

“Can you believe it?” she squealed to Rainbow Dash, a full octave above her normal voice. “Princess Luna talked to me! And she said I was lovely! Could this day get any better?”

Rainbow remembered how she had felt under the effects of the spell. It wasn't quite like this. Instead, she recalled a sense of pride. Nightmare Moon had trusted her with a very important mission, to create another bridge between the worlds. Rainbow had been thrilled at the prospect of being useful to the Queen. She wouldn't let her down. She couldn't. It was a completely irrational pride, Rainbow knew now, but at the time it had felt like the most natural thing in the world.

On the other side of the gathering, Madame Orange slowly pulled herself up, wrapping a leg around a tree for support. Rainbow watched her break into a relieved grin upon seeing Nightmare Moon, and she began to hobble toward the rest of the crowd, limping slightly.

“Change them back, Nightmare,” demanded Rainbow Dash.

“Rainbow!” cried Rarity. “Don't be rude to Luna by calling her such brutish names. She's the queen of Equestria.”

“Change them back?” asked Nightmare Moon playfully. “You need me to change them back? So you admit that I have complete control over their minds? That I can save them and you can't?”

Rainbow neighed furiously. “No, I...” Rainbow stumbled over her words, her tumultous demeanor from just seconds ago faltering. “That's not what I... release them, right now!”

“Already? But you haven't even seen the best part.” An aura once again lifted Rainbow into the air. By this time she had realized how little struggling accomplished, so she just crossed her forelegs and tried her best to look defiant. Nightmare Moon chuckled, amused, and then ignored her captive. “Rarity, Applejack, I have a favor to ask of you.”

Both the unicorn and the earth pony looked up expectantly, eager to please. “Of course,” said Madame Orange. “Anything I can do to make up for my mistakes. I didn't mean to try and leave you like that. It was stupid.”

The sincerity, and the almost stunted pattern of Orange's speech made twisted knots in Rainbow's stomach. Even having experienced the effects of mind magic herself, it still seemed unbelievable. She could think of nothing that could compare to this in terms of perversity.

The unsettling dissonance had no effect on Nightmare Moon, who continued with her own brand of disturbing sweetness. “My current captain is a bit busy at the moment, and I'm in need of a new second-in-command. I can only take one of you, unfortunately, so I need to find out which of you is more loyal and more deserving of this very privileged position. To that end, I'd like you two to demonstrate you commitment to me.”

“Anything, your Highness, if you'll take me back,” said Orange meekly.

Rarity was far more self-assured. “It would be the greatest honor of my career, dear Princess.”

“Fight to the death. The survivor will have pleased me and shall earn the honor of walking by my side.”

Rainbow choked in shock and horror. This was crazy, she told herself. But the sinking put in her stomach brought with it a glimmer of hope. When she had been asked to betray Rarity, the spell controlling her broke. Maybe it wasn't because she was the Element of Loyalty. Maybe it couldn't make anyone do anything that they didn't truly want to do. Like hurt a loved one. And while Rarity and Orange's situation was unique, they still counted as loved ones. They had to. True love conquers all, right? Rainbow thought. That's how every story ends, so it had to be...

“I understand,” said Orange, submitting herself entirely to Nightmare Moon's will.

“Anything you ask, your Majesty,” said Rarity with an enthusiastic grin, and Rainbow felt her world shatter. Rarity turned to Orange, and her voice became almost apologetic. “Sorry, darling. You're wonderful. But a chance to please the princess? You don't pass that up.”

Everything Rainbow had been banking on, every truth she knew, had dissipated in front of her. Every story was a lie. Real life didn't work that way. Real life was cruel and unforgiving.

And Rainbow realized that she was wasting her time cursing fates when she could be trying to change them. Nightmare Moon was trying to make a point. But in the Queen's excitement, she had slipped up by admitting something critical about her and Orange. And the mistake lent an opportunity for Rainbow Dash to make a point of her own.

Nightmare Moon didn't need to use mind-control, she had said, because she could manipulate Orange without it. As much trouble as Orange had been, Nightmare Moon had refrained from trying to control her for some reason. Most likely because she was not only useful, but more useful in her uncontrolled state. Which told Rainbow two things. Firstly, if Orange survived the fight, the mind spell would not permanent. The only reason Nightmare Moon had used it was to prove that she could.

Secondly, Nightmare Moon didn't want Orange dead at all. Everything happening was part of some elaborate scheme, an attempt by Nightmare to prove her supremacy.

Of course, this revelation wasn't going to do anything to stop her two friends from squaring off. And as long as she was restrained by magic, there wasn't much Rainbow could do to help. But just as this thought occurred to her, she felt herself be lowered back onto the ground.

“And you, on the other hand,” said Nightmare Moon, grinning sadistically, “are free to go.”

Rainbow wasn't sure she understood. “What?”

The alicorn stood stolidly and didn't reply. Rather, during the pause that passed, Nightmare Moon took note of the fact that Rainbow Dash was not running away. Not that she had any real reason to, she thought. She was hardly surprised when the pegasus instead ran into the fray.

“Rarity,” she cried, succeeding in catching her friend's attention. “Stop this right now!”

Although Rainbow saw Rarity acknowledge her, she wasn't sure the other mare had actually bothered to process what she was saying.

“Not now, Rainbow Dash,” said Rarity dismissively, shooing her away with one hoof instead of turning to look. “I'm a bit busy at the moment. Can we discuss this later?”

Rainbow's expression flattened. “Seriously?”

“I'm sorry, Rainbow Dash, but I'm in the middle of doing a favor for the Queen right now, and I'd really appreciate it if we could reschedule this conversation for a later time. I have work to do.”

Even after watching the scene unfold in front of her, even after feeling the effects of Nightmare Moon's magic for herself, Rainbow Dash couldn't believe what she was hearing. She grabbed Rarity roughly around the shoulders and dragged her friend's face close to hers.

“Are you kidding me?” she cried. “Look at what you're doing, Rarity. Look at what she's making you do. This is Applejack. The mare you forced me to go back for. The mare you refused to give up on and risked us to save. You can't tell me you care about her and then turn around and do this. It's not right.”

Displaying a startling degree of strength, Rarity twisted, throwing Rainbow off of her where she landed roughly on the ground. “Sacrifices have to be made,” barked Rarity with a rising anger that Rainbow hoped might be masking grief. “It's not optimal, but as you noted, I'm about to fight for my life, so I'd appreciate not being distracted.” A thundering of hoofbeats rising in intensity through her speech, and now apparent in her silence, stole Rarity's attention. Reacting too slowly, she turned in time for Madame Orange to tackle her to the ground.

Rainbow watched in grim fascination at the scene unfolding in front of her, waiting for a moment to intervene. In response to being knocked down, Rarity lashed out with her hind legs, eliciting a pained gasp from Orange, who fought back by attempting to clamp down with her jaws on Rarity's neck. But when the squirming mare beneath her refused to be taken so easily and drove a hoof into her jaw, she lost her grip. Seizing the moment, Rarity launched back toward Orange, this time on top. But her position was held for only a second before a renewed vigor from Orange sent the pair rolling across the forest floor.

The tumbling pair came to a halt against a tree, with Orange on top. As she paused to bask in her moment of triumph, Rainbow took action, looping her forearms around the mare and pulling her off of Rarity. Rainbow prayed that perhaps she could talk some sense into one of her friends.

“You can't do this,” she told the earth pony, who began to struggle against the grip. “I was beginning to think you were decent.” Orange's only response was a fierce kick backward into Rainbow's midsection, buckling her. Then the orange mare swung Rainbow above her head, displaying a surprising degree of strength (made less surprising when Rainbow Dash remembered that Orange was an earth pony and she was a pegasus), and knocking her against the closest tree.

In the moment that Rainbow Dash was too shocked to speak, Orange returned to face Rarity, who was by now beginning to stand up.

Of course she would behave this way. Rarity had enough kindred spirit to avoid attacking a friend. Orange had no such obligations. “I'm trying to help you!” Rainbow called out in frustration.

“Then stop trying,” came Madame Orange's curt reply before she attempted to cripple Rarity with a kick. Prepared, Rarity grabbed Orange's hoof and managed to push it to the side before it hit her. Thrown off balance, Orange stumbled briefly, and Rarity was ready to push her friend over and once again emerge on top.

Wanting to interfere again but not having the first clue how to go about it, Rainbow watched her two friends spar off. The battle seemed weighted heavily in Madame Orange's favor. Even though neither combatant was the physical type, unicorns really weren't built for a brawl. An earth pony, with her sturdiness and strength, was sure to have the upper hand. And as Orange landed what looked like a particularly painful blow against Rarity's leg, knocking her off balance, the conclusion seemed inevitable.

And yet Rarity wasn't one to just lie down and admit defeat. Where Orange had brute strength, she had cleverness. She had an eye for detail, and she could anticipate her opponent's attacks. Rolling with the punches, Rarity was never off of her feet for very long, quickly recovering and swinging back with attacks of her own. Orange attempted a follow-up strike to her last one, only for Rarity to grab the attacking leg in a telekinetic grip and driving her elbow into Orange's shoulder.

Magic. Rarity also had magic on her side, although this didn't occur to Rainbow until she saw it in action. This changed things. And then Rainbow Dash realized that she was actually thinking about which of her friends would succeed in killing the other, weighing and assessing their strengths. The morbidity of her own thought process frightened her. This wasn't the time for thinking. This was the time for action.

Before she could do anything, however, the clearing was showered in a warm bath of blue light that emanated from the branches of the trees. As the branches shook with a new ferocity. Rainbow glanced around in confusion, trying to identify the cause of the sudden illumination. Then she caught sight of Rarity, posed triumphantly at the edge of the clearing looking rather self-satisfied, her horn glowing brightly. Rainbow looked back at the trees, taking note of how they shook, as if a gale was passing through them. But she could not feel the wind.

She made the connection just as the leaves broke off of the trees, the fallen leaves on the ground levitating up and littering themselves throughout the sky. Picked up by an unfelt current, they swirled around until they had formed a shield around Rarity. Rainbow barely had time to dive for cover behind the closest tree when the leaves exploded outward, whistling through the air on their sharp edges. A muffled howl as Orange choked back a scream let Rainbow know that the earth mare wasn't quite as lucky.

Rarity may not have been able to summon an inferno or teleport, but being a one trick pony wasn't too much of a hindrance for someone as resourceful as Rarity.

Part of Rainbow wanted to check up on Orange, make sure she was okay. But when she saw Rarity heaving for breath, drained by the magical exertion, she recognized another chance to make a difference. She launched forward and forced Rarity to the ground, punching her horn and feeling incredibly guilty while doing so. The unicorn groaned from the blow to her sensitive limb.

“I'm not going to let you do this, Rarity,” ordered Rainbow between her bared teeth. “I will hold you down with my own hooves if I have to, but this nonsense ends now.”

“Let go of me, Rainbow Dash,” said Rarity, unable to manage more than a droll.

“No. You can't be going along with this. You just can't. You love her; you have to.”

She felt her hooves lose traction on the ground, if only briefly, as Rarity tried to force her off. This shouldn't be happening, she thought. There was no way Rarity could be stronger than her. There was no way she was going to allow this to happen.

“You're being irrational, Rainbow Dash. Give up.” The strength was returning to both Rarity's voice and her legs.

“Irrational? Me? Look at Applejack. Look at her, right in the eyes, and then tell me that you don't care about her.”

Rarity couldn't quite describe the feeling of Rainbow's words. Worse than being hit certainly. She felt ignored, angered by Rainbow's obliviousness. She felt insulted by her inability to understand. “Of course I care about her!” she cried, an anguished cry that struck Rainbow with needles and reminded her of a wounded animal. “Don't try and tell me I don't care, because I do! More than I care about you or me, I do! But it's not that simple!”

“Yes, it is that simple,” pleaded Rainbow in desperation. “Nightmare Moon can't force you to do what you don't want to do.”

Rarity's hoof froze midstep as she hesitated. “Rainbow?” she asked, but her voice was strained.

“She tortured you less than two minutes ago, remember? She nearly crushed you! Don't tell me you already forgot.”

“No, Rainbow Dash. I didn't forget. I remember everything clearly. And that's how I know it was all a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding?” raged Rainbow Dash incredulously. “She tried to kill you!”

“And, to be fair, we were trying to dethrone her. But now we know that cooperation works out in everypony's favor. No more scheming, Rainbow Dash! Isn't that lovely?” The smile on Rarity's face was so wide that Rainbow Dash was afraid it would split open. She didn't seem genuinely excited, more...

Afraid, Rainbow realized. She couldn't explain why, but Rarity looked terrified. Desperate. As if convincing Rainbow to see things her was her only remaining resort to a manageable life.

“Listen to me, Rarity,” Rainbow urged, trying to be sympathetic. “She's brainwashing you. You aren't supposed to be this way!”

The smile persisted, but was shaken. “You think I don't know that?” Rarity asked, the terror now filling her voice as well.

Rainbow Dash froze. “What?”

And the facade dropped, Rarity's tone becoming spiteful. “Are you really so thick, Rainbow Dash? It's obvious what she's done to me. I used to hate her, she waved her horn, and now I don't. A foal could put two and two together.”

“Then why won't you let me fix you?”

“Because maybe I don't want to be fixed. I know I should, but I don't. And if you were loyal to me, if you even tried to be worthy of your Element, you'd let me do what I want to do.

“I'm trying to help.”

“No, you're trying to help yourself. You're trying to get what you want. You want the old Rarity back. You want to go back to fighting tooth and nail like savages, and you haven't even stopped to consider what the rest of us want. How could you be so selfish? Maybe I know that this is wrong. But right now, the only one making me hurt is you. Don't make me choose between you and Luna, because you'll lose.”

“I don't believe you,” whispered Rainbow. It was a stupid response, she knew, but it was the truth. The only weapon left in her arsenal was denial.

“Don't be my enemy, Rainbow Dash,” Rarity pleaded. Actually pleaded, Rainbow realized.

“That's not up to me. If you hit me, that's your choice. Always has been. If you don't want to fight me, then don't. Fight it. Remember who your friends are, and fight. It's that easy.”

Rarity tried once more to push Rainbow away from her, but her grip slackened as she hesitated. She seemed to be looking past Rainbow now, not focusing on anything real.

“I'm here, Rarity. I'm here. I know you can beat this, because we've been through tougher things before. And I believe in what we can accomplish as a team. All of us. Twilight doing all the nerdy research stuff, Applejack and I opening up a can of royal whoop-ass...”

“Stop” Rarity warned.

“And Spike. Don't forget about Spike. The way he does everything he can to help out, the adorable way he's always running after you...”

Rarity punched her friend in the gut, abandoning composure for effect and cutting off her friend's speech. “I'm serious, Rainbow Dash. Stop that right now. You don't need to remind me about them. Not when I'm trying so hard to forget.”

“Why would you want to forget? They're what we're fighting for.”

In truth, remembering back to her own time under the control of Nightmare's spell, she could begin to understand Rarity's actions. And the alicorn's words echoed again.

“Loyalty is a finicky thing, Rainbow Dash. You know that better than most. It often asks us to take actions that are incompatible. It asks us to make tough decisions. It's not enough to just be loyal. You have to be loyal to something. Some cause.”

Rarity had made up her mind about which cause she wanted to be loyal to. Which cause it was easier to be loyal to.

“No,” Rainbow breathed. “Please, Rarity, please don't give up like this. For me. For all of us.”

And the she noticed Rarity was crying. “Don't play this game with me,” the unicorn ordered. “Don't guilt me. I love you, Rainbow Dash. I love all of you. I know what I need to do, but... but...”

“She doesn't have to control you, Rarity. You can beat her.”

“No. I can't fight it, Rainbow. And I'm really sorry.”

Rainbow felt a streak of sharp pain blossom across her breast. Unsure what to make of it at first, Rainbow felt her strength give out. A numbness spread over her, as if her brain had been put on ice. The world was moving a glacial pace, but with all her thoughts purged from her mind, Rainbow was unable to keep up with it. She stumbled, and Rarity took advantage of her moment of weakness to push Rainbow off. Rarity was bleeding, Rainbow noticed, somewhere in the back of her thoughts. Her face was soaked red, the blood running down her horn, beading on her lashes.

Her horn was bleeding?

Rainbow's vision swam in front of her, and she wondered dully if perhaps Nightmare Moon was using another gravity spell. She felt so heavy, so off kilter. The dull ache in her breast ebbed and withered with her heartbeat, a persistent reminder something far away and yet a part of her wasn't working correctly.

A strained gurgling sound came from within her when she tried to breathe. The struggle to get air took what precious thinking power she still had. Stumbling backward to the edge of the clearing, she took in the fight continuing to play out before her. It felt like it was coming from very far away.

Orange was now struggling to stand, teetering unevenly on her legs and bleeding freely from a gash running along her chest and another on her right front leg. And yet she appeared to remain committed to the task at hand. She showed no signs of fear or any plans of admitting defeat.

The possibility that Rainbow had been struggling to deny now broke through to her. There was nothing she could do. Either Orange or Rarity was going to die. A stray thought that she could not control hoped it was Orange. But her previous conclusion, that Nightmare Moon wanted Orange alive (supported by her interference with the mare's suicide attempt) did not make her hopeful about the future.

Above them, Nightmare Moon sat on a cloud of dark purple vapor, having levitated for safety and to provide the combatants more room in which to brawl. Noticing Orange's resilience, but also her wear and weariness, barked an order at Rarity: “Finish her.”

“Of course,” came Rarity's curt reply, and Rainbow felt another part of her heart break away. It was no longer just a crisis of her world-view. Somehow, watching her friend be bent so easily by a single magical spell had triggered a crisis of identity inside Rainbow Dash. If magic could so easily remake a pony, then what were they, really?

Rarity launched forward, rapidly closing the distance between her and Orange. Nightmare Moon once again fell silent, content to not interfere.
The chilling resignation had overcome every other thought in Rainbow Dash. She tried to comfort herself in the fact that Rarity likely was not going to die.

Instead, she would become a killer.

The world around Rainbow exploded into action as a fire brewed up from some unknown reservoir within her. The frozenness shattered as Rainbow realized that Rarity becoming a killer was the one thing she absolutely could not permit to happen.

“STOP! EVERYBODY STOP!”

To Rainbow Dash's complete and utter astonishment, it worked. Rarity and Orange both paused their attacks and turned their heads. Rainbow realized it would be a matter of seconds before one of them realized the other was distracted and landed a killing blow. And so she used her precious seconds to do the one thing left that might actually save her friends, as slim as the odds might be.

“Change them back,” she pleaded with Nightmare Moon. “You can change them back, right?” She tried as hard as she could to sound in control of the situation, but her intimidation was no doubt limited by the fact that she was bleeding out into the ground. She got the feeling she wasn't fooling anyone.

Nightmare Moon, intrigued by Rainbow's sudden desperation, saw no harm in playing along. “Very well. Take five, darlings,” she addressed the fighters, who immediately relaxed their stance and collapsed into each other's embrace, murmuring assurances to each other. “You've done well,” the alicorn added, and an almost orgasmic shudder passed over the two victims of the spell. Rainbow felt the memory of the spell's effects tease at her, and she was disgusted by the way it made her feel.

Nightmare lifted off the cloud and vanished into smoke, which winded down and reformed, standing over Rainbow triumphantly. “Are you willing to admit that you can't save your friends on your own?” she asked tauntingly. “That I'm more powerful than you could ever be?”

The question hung in the air. It didn't seem to be rhetorical; Nightmare Moon was actually leaning forward to better hear the answer. And while Rainbow Dash didn't know the honest answer to the question, she knew what answer might save her friends.

“Yes. You win.”

Nightmare Moon basked in the glow of her victory. And then she asked her next question. “Would you perform a Sonic Rainboom for me?”

Those Who Would Reject Fate

Nightmare Moon basked in the glow of her victory. And then she asked her next question. “Would you perform a Sonic Rainboom for me?”

Rainbow was blindsided by the question, although she shouldn't have been. Of course Nightmare Moon still wanted her to perform a Sonic Rainboom. She was the only one alive who could. And since it had the power to create an easy passage from one world to the other, that made her powerful. And Nightmare Moon would do everything possible to squeeze that power from her.

Loyalty is a finicky thing, Rainbow Dash. It asks us to make tough decisions. It's not enough to just be loyal. You have to be loyal to something. Some cause.

Which was more important? Her friends or Equestria?

“If I may make a suggestion,” offered Nightmare Moon. “I know you're all torn up inside, so I'd like to propose a third option. If you like, I can take the choice away from you. If you don't resist my touch, I could make you like them. And then you'd be working together again. To build an Equestria I can make you fall in love with.”

“There is nothing I would hate more than that,” insisted Rainbow Dash. “Failing Equestria? Failing my friends? That's not happening.”

“But you'd be with them. Isn't that worth something?”

“I've been there before. Even when I was under your spell, I knew what was really going on. I hated that powerlessness. I hated feeling like I had no control over my thoughts and feelings.”

It was the one thing Rainbow was completely sure of, that she hated what Nightmare Moon was doing so much that nothing would ever let them see eye-to-eye. So she wasn't prepared for the alicorn to challenge that.

“It wasn’t the lack of freedom you hated, Rainbow Dash. What you hated was the truth. The knowledge that I'm already in control; you simply deny my influence. Everything that's happened tonight, I've foreseen and prepared for. The self-inflicted suffering of someone who is more content to live in denial, in ignorance? That’s what really consumed you, Rainbow Dash, and it was not my doing. And it’s sad. There has never been a sadder state of affairs than that of a pony that was graced with the truth and managed to shrug it off, to dive once again beyond the dark veil of ignorance. Once you accept that you cannot escape me, once you cease fighting me and learn to live with the truth, once you cease yearning for obliviousness, your suffering will end.”

“You didn't predict everything. You didn't know I would resist your spell.”

“I adapted. A real mastermind is adequately prepared for shortcomings. Losing the battle and winning the war, I believe they call it? I always win the war.”

Was this true, Rainbow wondered. Was it actually possible that her determination to stop Nightmare Moon had prevented her from looking at the situation from the outside? Of course not, said a voice from inside of her that she liked to think was her most reasonable one. Nightmare Moon is messing with your head. She’s trying to trick her, and you can’t fall for her games.

Of course, on the other hoof, what if those assurances were the exact thing Nightmare Moon was accusing her of? What if by assuming she was being manipulated, she dismissed any evidence that the alicorn might actually be right?

Nightmare Moon had invaded her mind without the use of magic, just like she said she would. Rainbow couldn’t recover, couldn’t examine her life to figure out which ideas were hers and which were planted, because the ideas themselves could be influencing her. Her thoughts and feelings were slipping away from her, becoming alien, and Rainbow Dash knew that she had to make a stand or she would lose everything.

“No. I'm not going to help you because you even if I don't, you won't let either of them die.”

Maybe, if she said it with enough certainty, she could convince Nightmare Moon to believe it. But she'd already revealed her true colors and begged.

For once, Nightmare Moon was giving her full attention, without any nagging humdrums or boredoms. She wasn't just going through preplanned motions now. The claim was interesting. Ridiculous, boastful, but interesting. It was a gambit, and one that wouldn’t fix the problems that were eating at Rainbow’s thoughts. It was a delaying tactic, at best. But if it worked, if she could save Rarity and Orange, then maybe they could look at this together. As a team.

“Why?” she asked, trying to goad Rainbow into slipping up but also curious for the answer. “I don't make threats I'm not willing to carry out. I'm an honest mare if anything.”

“Because,” said Rainbow, slowly, a word at a time. She couldn't afford to mess this up. “Because Orange isn't replaceable. Her contacts, her trustedness, you can't just put a different pony in her place. You need her to keep an eye on the world.” She tensed, waiting for Nightmare Moon to prove her wrong. “Right? You wouldn't kill her to make a point to me. She's worth more to you alive.”

Nightmare Moon grinned, and she almost chuckled. “Maybe you're right,” she said in a tone that made the admission still sound belittling. “But what about your friend? Rarity, right? She doesn't know any pony from this world. She's less than worthless.”

“But she's still better alive than dead. You could turn her into one of your puppets.”

“I can always find more puppets. Try again.”

“Then...” Rainbow froze, trying desperately to think of a reason that Nightmare Moon would have to keep Rarity alive. The encouragement she was receiving felt unreasonable, like she was being walked through an exercise.

Nightmare Moon was still toying with her, she realized. Even now, when her friends were on the line, the alicorn was playing games, proving that she could control her even without magic. She never fought them physically, directly, because this was just as effective. She had given Rainbow permission to go free because she knew that the stubborn pegasus wouldn't. Who wouldn't give up against an opponent that could predict your every move and then laugh at you for it? Whatever answer Nightmare Moon was guiding her toward, she had already planned for. What if the alicorn wasn't bluffing when she said she had already anticipated everything Rainbow could do?

There had to be an escape. A loophole. And Rainbow knew that before she could face Nightmare Moon in a fair fight, she had to find a way to break out of her psychological grip. To prove she wasn't just a puppet. And then Rainbow Dash realized why Nightmare Moon couldn't kill Rarity.

“Because you need me to perform a Rainboom for you. And I need her. So if you harm her,” said Rainbow Dash, trying her best to act like she was consumed by hatred and malice instead of quaking where she lay, “If you let anything happen to her, I will never help you.”

She paused to cough up blood, but Nightmare Moon didn't even wait for her to finish before delivering her response. “If the threat of her harm won't sway you, then there's no point in keeping her alive. And in order for a threat to have any value, I need to be willing to carry it out. But for the sake of a thought experiment, let's say we reach that undesirable conclusion. I kill her, and so you refuse to help me. Neither of us got what we want. In that outcome, what's the difference between us?”

“Um...”

“The difference is that I still have not lost anything. But you have lost a friend. And then I can threaten you with the life of another friend of yours. However many it takes. And their deaths will be at your hooves, since my mind is made up. So, really. The choice is yours. Will you pledge yourself to me, or does your Rarity become the new throw rug in my bedroom?”

Rainbow Dash was silent. “Take your time,” offered the alicorn. “They aren't going anywhere. Although I will be itching for them to fight again if you take too long. It's just so entertaining.” She leaned in close, as if she was sharing a secret. “Out of curiosity, which one do you think would win?”

Rainbow somehow found the energy to spit in her face. “You're sick.”

“Me? Doubtful. Because unlike you, I understand what's going on around me. This is the pattern I’ve been trying to show you this whole time. The interconnectedness of it all. You believe in the illusion of free will because you are unable to see the bigger picture. And you find this illusion more comforting than the truth. When the pieces fall into place, when the inevitable finally becomes the obvious, you are surprised. You put too much faith in your friends, Rainbow Dash. You depend on them for your own success, and through them you reveal your undoing. There is no faith but blind faith, and it is a vice. Refusal to play the odds is a weakness. The idea that your friends will allow you to overcome the inevitable is ludicrous, and I have no room for fanciful imaginings in my future.”

Rainbow watched Rarity and Orange attempting to comfort each other, neither having the will to defy the Nightmare and run away. Rainbow had never felt more powerless. She had tried to stop them. She had failed. Everything was playing out exactly as Nightmare Moon wanted it to, putting the alicorn in complete control. Even her Rainbooms were steadily becoming no longer hers.

“This was your plan the whole time, was it?” asked Rainbow Dash, the fight completely gone from her.

Nightmare Moon raised a hoof to her breast, pretending to be insulted. “You say that like I'm not capable of more than one tactic at a time. Like stealing your friends, and getting you to perform a Rainboom, and showing you the light can't all be my goals. Or maybe you're still wrong, and these are just the steps toward even loftier goals, even greater designs.”

“The takeover of Equestria?”

“Once again, Rainbow Dash. You're thinking too concretely, too short term. Sure, I already control one Equestria, and with your help I can claim a second. But then what? What does that get me? Being the Queen is a means, not an end.”

“A means to what?”

“It's about proving a point, Rainbow Dash. About showing to you all that my word is law. That there is no destiny other than what I allow to happen. Not just that resistance will not be tolerated, but that the very concept of resistance will one day die. When I can control you, when even the world's great heroes are no more than an extension of my will, no force can ever oppose me. No force will ever even desire to oppose me. Nothing is beyond my reach. This is my demonstration to you. That I am Fate. And you are fated to serve me. Do you understand now?”

And Rainbow saw her opening. “Why are you showing off, then? Why do you need to demonstrate if you already control everything?”

Nightmare Moon balked, making it clear that she didn't understand what her prey was getting at. “I'm sorry?” she asked, betraying her confusion. Her lack of understanding only fueled Rainbow's resolve.

“If we were already completely under your control, you wouldn't need to fight us. This whole show wouldn't be needed.”

“You continue to deny my authority?” Nightmare Moon seethed. “My control is absolute! None can stand in my way.”

And for the first time in the encounter, Rainbow Dash understood, and she felt a resurgence of hope. A familiar spark lit up in her mind, bringing with her a warmth she'd all but forgotten about. “Wow. You are really bitter about being trapped on the moon for a thousand years, aren't you? You're going to take over the world just to prove to your sister that she's not the boss of you. That is really pathetic, you know that? All this effort for a grudge. You are the saddest excuse for a pony I've ever met.”

Something in Nightmare Moon broke. Her cold, reserved demeanor split open, revealing a angry howling viciousness. And Rainbow knew that if the alicorn was ever going to slip up, it would be now. She waited for her chance.

“What?” screamed Nightmare Moon, raging. “Where did you get that idea? This isn't about Celestia! It's about my destiny! My inevitable release from this world and my ascension to Godhood. My freedom to shape this world to my whims.”

She watched Nightmare Moon sputter her response and dared to hope this was her opportunity. Just for this moment, the alicorn was no longer the methodological planner, now a bundle of fury. It no longer mattered if her plans were perfect, because she was no longer following any plan. Only instinct. She was on a course her calculating mind could no longer predict or attempt to avert, and Rainbow loved the irony.

“Freedom, huh? I guess you're a fan of freedom, Luna. So am I,” she announced boldly. “And you're going to free my friends right now.”

“Why in the great mounting heavens would I do that?”

“Because if you don't, one of them might end up hurting me.” Running now on a mix of inspiration and adrenaline, Rainbow Dash somehow found the strength to stand, ignoring the groaning protests coming from every bone in her body and the burning in her chest. “Go ahead,” she announced, the rasping of her voice now barely noticeable. “Get them to fight again. I dare you. And when I get between them again, who knows what'll happen?”

Nightmare Moon wasn't sure what to make of the situation. “You're an idiot,” she told the pegasus. “A persistent, obstinate fool.” Rainbow felt the gravity disappear around her as she was lifted into the air, trapped in a field of blue magic.

Just as expected.

“Yes, take me out of the fight,” she deadpanned. “Even though the whole reason you cursed them in the first place was to prove I couldn't do anything about it. There's no reason left for them to fight now, is there? What's left to prove?”

Nightmare Moon bore her gaze into Rainbow. This was not in the script. This was not how the evening was supposed to go.

Rainbow repeated the question. “What are you trying to prove, Luna?” she asked. “That you can control us? You have to pin me down to stop me from ruining everything.”

“I am showing you that you cannot break my enchantments. You cannot.”

“But I will. I'll make you do it for me.”

The fight had become a staring contest as Rainbow tried her best to avoid shying away from Nightmare's intimidating stare.

“An amazing deduction, Rainbow Dash,” said Nightmare Moon, the false praise only thinly disguising a torrent of bitterness. “With one very minor miscalculation. Maybe I don't need you after all. You cause so much trouble for me, I could just snap your neck and be done with you.”

Rainbow panicked, wondering if she'd really not seen this coming. But then she saw they way through. “And then you'd have to live with the fact that your sister is alive and kicking, just out of your reach. You said ruling Equestria was a means to an end, right? To prove that no one can ever control you, and that you can control everyone. You want revenge. You want a win over Celestia that's total. And if I'm dead, you can't do that. You need me. You need my help to make a Rainboom.”

“You'll never give it to me.”

“But that won't stop you from wondering whether or not you could have dragged it out of me. And if you kill me now you'll never know.”

Nightmare moon glanced back over at Orange and Rarity, weighing her options, the one remaining calm part of her reminding her not to do anything too irrevocably drastic. Ponies were such soft, defenseless creatures. It would be a simple matter to wring her magic around Rainbow's neck and squeeze all the life out of her. It would probably be very satisfying, too.

But it wouldn't last. If she wanted to learn more about these invaders' homeworld, she needed them alive.

Rainbow tensed, waiting for whatever punishment Nightmare Moon was about to dish out. She felt a pair of invisible magic tendrils wrap around her throat. It squeezed once, twice, testing the waters, seeing how far it could go.

“Fine.”

The magic imploded, dropping Rainbow, who managed to land on her hooves, albeit unsteadily. The rush fading, she didn't have much strength to do anything. Fortunately, Nightmare Moon seemed to have more pressing issues, as she had already left her for the cowering Orange.

When Nightmare Moon spoke, her voice was demanding, chiding. “Rainbow could not save you. She tried, and she failed. Your continued existence is the result of my generosity, and my actions alone. Now that you've had a chance to witness the failures of their little entourage firsthoof, tell me. Who are you loyal to?”

Orange whimpered an inaudible response. She pulled her back legs in, trying to make herself as small as possible.

Nightmare Moon grunted in frustration. A single telekinetic yank pulled Orange's head out of its shelter, nearly lifting the mare off the ground. The dark magical aura that surrounded her face and clouded her vision made her feel nauseous. From behind the shifting veil, Nightmare Moon's face distorted itself, filling her entire view.

And then Nightmare Moon screamed. “Look at me in the eyes when I'm talking!” she ordered, with an intensity that made Rarity take a few steps back.

There was no visible response from Orange, only heavy, uneven breathing.

“Let's try this again, before I lose all my patience,” said Nightmare Moon. “And this time, speak clearly. Who are you loyal to?”

The answer wasn't immediate, but when it was given, it hung in the air, carried by the utter sense of defeat that accompanied it.

“You, your highness.”

Nightmare Moon continued to stare at Orange, as if she was trying to decide whether or not the answer was sufficient. Orange repeatedly shifted her eyes away instinctively and returning them once she realized what she was doing.

“That's correct,” said the Queen slowly. “And do you know why that is?”

The look of fear and confusion she received told her enough. If Orange knew, there was no way that she'd be able to articulate the thought.

“Forget it, fool. I'll tell you why. The reason I'm so much better for you than those failures is because I free you of your burdens. Face it, Applejack. You've made a lot of mistakes in your past. Abandoning your family? Betraying your friends? You're a pathetic excuse for a pony. Nopony deserves to give you another chance. But I will, because I'm generous. Nothing in your past life matters to me. I only care about the future you, the you who might play a major role in leading this country someday. Madame Orange can be a hero. But if you leave now, you're Applejack again. And then you'll have to face all the horrible things you've done to the ponies who once trusted you. And you can't handle that, can you?”

This time, Orange was rapid with her response, wanting to avoid another screaming match. “No.”

“Exactly,” concluded Nightmare Moon, releasing her magic grip and letting Orange fall unceremoniously to the floor. “I'll see you tomorrow morning. Don't be late. Of course, I know you won't be. Rainbow Dash? Rarity? Go back to your friends and give them a message: This world is not their concern.”

A bitter and cold wind swept through the trees as Nightmare Moon's body filled with light. Then with a flash, a bang, and a sudden implosion, the alicorn was gone. The gravity spells disintigrated.

Rarity stood, transfixed. The threat was gone, at least for now. So why was she frozen, she admonished herself. Help her. She took a tentative step forward, and the cold tightened its grip on her.

She was afraid, she realized. More afraid now than she had been in Nightmare Moon's presence. Because somehow, being around the alicorn seemed like a fairytale gone horrribly wrong, like... well, like a nightmare. But Orange wasn't magic or make-believe. She was a real pony, with real feelings and real needs.

And right now she needed help more than any pony Rarity had ever met in her life.

The cold released her and she stumbled to her friend, still short of breath and stretched sore by the gravity magic. Reaching Orange, she hugged her tightly, wrapping the two of them in a heat charm.

Orange wanted to tense at the touch. She wanted Rarity to think the touch reviled her. That would be the sensible option. She had been forced to choose a life, forced to choose between Apples and Oranges, and she had made up her mind. There wasn't room for Rarity in the fragments of a life she had left.

And yet the unicorn's touch continued to feel like the most wonderful thing in the world. All she wanted was to collapse into it, and she hated herself for it.

The shame and loathing of an addict, that was the burden of a mare who wanted two incompatible things. And no magic spells or mind-control was required. This was all her.

“You better go,” she forced herself to say. “The next time we meet, we'll be enemies again.”

“I'm not leaving you,” said Rarity evenly.

Orange felt her blood boil at this. What a insensitive stupid mare. Couldn't Rarity see how this was hurting her? “Well too bad!” she screamed. “You don't have a choice here!”

"I am not letting go of you. Not now and not ever."

“Why are you doing this to me?” hissed Orange between her jerks and spasms, attempts to escape from Rarity's grasp. “Why can't you just let me go, forget I ever existed? Go on with your own life, find your own Applejack to care about and fuss over and criticize?”

Rarity continued with her level tone. How simple everything must seem to her, pondered Orange. How idealistic. How black and white. “You know why,” she said.

“No. You're wrong.”

Rarity raised an eyebrow at this. “Am I? Wrong about why I do things? I know what I'm getting into, Orange. I want this.”

“You shouldn't.”

“I do.”

“Look at you. You give and you give and you never ask for anything in return. You make it look so easy. I get it now. I finally get it.”

Rarity brushed aside the delirious, nonsensical words. Words weren't what was important now. Her words couldn't rebuild what Nightmare Moon's had torn down. Now was the time for something purer. But Orange persisted.

"I thought she was crazy when she talked about it, but I finally understand what Trixie meant when she said she wanted to keep things level. There's always an easy way out, but that doesn't mean it stays easy. You have to fight to keep it easy. Fight against the things that matter. Rarity. I told you to let go."

"Never."

A look of suppressed bitterness crept into Orange, discouraged but not resigned. "You're beautiful," she said to Rarity. "Has anypony ever told you that?"

"Not anypony who really knew what they were talking about," answered the unicorn.

"Well, I mean it," insisted Orange. "You're perfect, in every way, even if you don't believe it. Which is why I'm really, truly sorry."

"Huh?" Rarity didn't notice Orange's drawn-back hoof until it punched her in the face. Even if it weren't for the surprise, Rarity doubted she would have been able to lift a hoof to retaliate, or even protect herself. This wasn't about her.

Her grip slackening involuntarily, Orange pushed her away. Rarity lifted herself onto her haunches, sharing one last moment of eye contact. An unspoken apology which Rarity accepted immediately.

Orange turned and ran.

Rarity, hurting more from her failure than from the attack, continued to sit and watch her go.

“What are you waiting for?” cried Rainbow Dash. “Don't just let her get away like that.”

Rarity stood silently, turning to take in her until-now silent friend. Rainbow Dash was not in a good state. Her chest was bleeding from the wound where...

Where Rarity had...

In a flash of clarity, Rarity understood why Orange had so much trouble dealing with her past. True, this was different. It wasn't a mistake that she made, and it wasn't technically her fault, but still...

She swallowed the bile rising in her throat.

It's never your fault, is it, she asked herself, even when you're not under some curse. It's past you's fault, and she's never the same mare as you. That's not how it works. But even though you've changed, you regret not changing sooner. If she'd just been a little bit stronger willed...

“Are you even listening to me?” asked Rainbow. “Go after her!”

The very notion was insulting. “And leave you alone in your state? What if Nightmare Moon comes back when you can't fly? She could kill you. She won't kill Applejack. She needs her.”

“And that's not a good thing,” grunted Rainbow Dash, surprised at the sympathy for she was feeling for a pony she had offered to kill earlier that day. “I can't think of a worse fate for a pony. You have to go after her. Because you love her.”

Rainbow didn't know if Rarity wasn't expecting her not to beat around the bush, but she wasn't prepared to have her laundry laid bare like this. Rainbow groaned. “Don't tell me you're going to try and deny it. It's been kind of obvious for a while now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You see, neither of you have wings.”

Rarity repeated Rainbow's revelation silently in her head. And then she did it again. “I don't get it,” she said at last.

“You will. Probably sometime in the middle of the night, while you're thinking everything over, it will hit you. And then you'll hate me so much.”

Rarity, perplexed by the bizarre assertion, turned it over in her head a couple of times before setting it aside for later. “Besides,” she said, attempting to push onward and get back to the topic at hand, “she's an earth pony and I'm a unicorn. I don't have her endurance. I wouldn't be able to catch up if I wanted to.”

“And with that excuse you don't even have to try. I just spent the last nightmare of what seems like an hour trying to convince you to listen to yourself. Please tell me that now you'll actually try.”

“I am thinking straight, Rainbow. I wasn't before; I admit that. There was this voice in my head, and it sounded so sweet. You heard it too, and how you resisted it I don't know. I... I fell in love with that voice, and it terrifies me now. But I'm out of the dark forest. And I want to help her get out too. But right now, as horrible as this sounds, I don't think we can do anything to keep her safe. I want to help her, Rainbow, believe me, I do. But I'm not going to let you bleed out on the grass so I can go searching for a pony who doesn't want to be found.”

“That's the big question, isn't it, Rarity? What can you do for a pony who doesn't want to be saved?”

Rarity sat down on the grass beside her friend, both so they could be closer and to get a better look at the wound. “I don't know. I want to say you try anyway, but I don't know if that's worked for us. What if we make things worse?”

Rainbow was skeptical. “Are you seriously implying that she's better off in Nightmare Moon's hooves than ours?”

“I just think that maybe she doesn't need us making things more difficult to her.”

“Which, come to think of it, is exactly what Nightmare Moon wants too. Are you sure she's not still bouncing around in your head?”

Rainbow almost regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth. The question lingered, floating around them.

“I don't know,” muttered Rarity, fear creeping in. “Would we know?”

Rainbow quickly sought to change the subject. “It's not just her, is it?”

Rarity saw the bait and took it. “I'm not sure what you mean.”

“I mean, she's not the only Applejack. This predates the whole two worlds thing, doesn't it? I'm not blind, and looking back on things... well, stuff starts to add up.”

“That is not true. That is not true at all.” The speed with which Rarity denied the claims caused Rainbow to crack up (which, given the intermittent struggles to breathe, did not sound at all comforting.)

“Oh my Godesses,” laughed Rainbow, ignoring her pain. “This is perfect.”

“They're two different ponies,” denied Rarity.

“Earlier you said they weren't.”

“When?” Asked Rarity, trying to think back and remember when she had said that.

“To Orange. You told her yourself that she hadn't changed one bit.”

“That was different. That was...” Trying to figure out exactly what that was, Rarity was silent.

Rainbow laughed, a throaty laugh that was cut short by a fit of wheezing that lasted far longer than comfortable for either of them.

“We need to get you some medical attention.”

“Agreed.”

“And enough talk about Applejack. This isn't about her.” She paused, and then decided to get in the last word. “It's ridiculous, anyway. She's so uncultured. Too rough around the edges and too insensitive to the importance of it all. I'd have to guide her hoof the whole way.”

“Yeah, and I noticed you don't do that with Orange, either. Come on, Rars. Be honest.”

“It's irrelevant. We'll have plenty of time to have this discussion after we save the world.”

“You really think we stand a chance?” asked Rainbow.

Rarity hesitated. “We have to,” she finally said. “We have to assume we can win this, because if we can't then not much matters. Hope is all we have left.”

Rainbow let that stew for a moment. “She's wrong, you know. All that talk about fate and destiny, but she's wrong. I almost believed her. And if I had, then it would have made her right. I would have handed my life over to her. But the truth is, there's only one pony who controls my fate, and that's Rainbow Dash. I think she was trying to keep me from seeing that. I hope she was trying to keep me from seeing that. Because otherwise, if she really believes she's in control, then I feel sorry for her. And when we meet Orange again, that's what we need to prove to her. And not just for your love life. We need her for the Element of Honesty. You have to show her that we can make our own destiny. Because we're fighting against fate now. And guess what? Fate's going to lose.”

“You let them go?” Lieutenant Winter Frost shouted at Madame Orange the next day. The formerly refined earth pony didn't respond, lacking the energy to deal with the short-tempered soldier.

Winter Frost. The only pegasus at the Buraq academy who was not only willing to join Nightmare Moon's army, but eager. Her nearly insatiable bloodlust made her, on occasion, even more frightening than Nightmare. At least the alicorn knew the meaning of self-restraint.

But Frost wasn't finished. “I can't believe it. What does Her Majesty even see in you? You're completely useless. A month of floundering around and now the only thing you've accomplished was trying to bone the enemy. Pathetic.”

Orange had not been looking forward to coming to the castle and facing Nightmare Moon's anger. But she had not been expecting to get a lecture from her most loyal lackey while she was waiting. The two of them were sitting in a long hallway lined with tapestries that Orange was sure looked much better in the light of day. And since their new ruler hadn't put cleanliness among her top priorities, the banners were also obscured by a layer of dust.

The hall ended in a spiral staircase leading up to the east wing astronomy tower, which Nightmare Moon had converted to her personal quarters. (Or reverted, as Orange suspected, given the alicorn's attachment to the tower.)

Fortunately, whatever abuse Orange felt doomed to suffer at Frost's hooves was postponed as the magic barrier in front of the stairs unraveled, granting them entry. When the blue pegasus noticed, she gave a harrumph, just to make sure Orange knew what she thought of her, and then the two climbed the stairs in silence.

More force fields guided their journey at every branch, blocking off every possible path but one. Eventually, the two ponies emerged into a small round room that had every window boarded up with thick metal sheets. From what ambient light was available, Orange could make out the bedframe on the far wall.

This was Nightmare's bedroom, Orange realized. She had never been in here; no one would have been permitted entry under normal circumstances. It was oddly personal. Seeing such a plain utilitarian room almost made the alicorn seem... normal. A pony, like everyone else. It certainly wasn't an image that Nightmare wanted to put on display.
But as Orange and Frost saw their ruler sitting on the floor, stewing in her own frustration, they realized that in her current state, Nightmare Moon couldn't possibly maintain her image anyway.

Both the earth pony and the pegasus were smart enough to keep their mouths shut. They could tell that Nightmare Moon was bothered by her encounter. She had been humiliated, and in attempting to prove her dominance had instead made a fool of herself. Orange began to worry that they had been summoned so that the alicorn could vent her frustration on them.

Seeing that her guests had arrived, Nightmare Moon closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and attempted to compose herself. Some inscrutable, irrational part of Orange felt a sliver of something possibly resembling pity.

“May I speak?” asked Orange, attempting to get the conversation moving, and pointedly ignoring her leader's state of distress.

“That depends on what you have to say.”

Orange did not like those odds. But even without explicit permission to speak freely, she pushed on. “Why did you let them go?” she asked, fearing retribution but speaking anyway. “They were weak. You could have captured them again.”

“I didn't do it for you, if that's what you're wondering. I did it because holding onto them has proven to be a costly and difficult affair that does little to advance our position. They don't have any valuable intelligence to share that the pink one hasn't already given their friends, so we're don't risk any information leaks. Just because we need them alive doesn't mean they need to be contained. Sometimes the best way to raise cattle is free-range.”

Frost interjected. “Why do we need them alive?” she asked. “I'd love to get my hooves on them. Especially the unicorn.” She grinned in a manner that would have made Orange incredibly uncomfortable even if she didn't know Rarity.

“You can have the unicorn, when the time comes,” said Nightmare Moon. “But not the Loyalty-bearer. Rainbow Dash is the only one we know who can create a door between our world and theirs. And that makes her very valuable. Back when I could control her mind, our victory was secured. But my mind magic doesn't work on her anymore; I tried when I demonstrated it on you. Her Element appears to make her uniquely immune to it now. But she's still more valuable alive than dead.

“You could have killed her,” offered Frost. “Stranded her friends on this side.”

“And what good would that accomplish? It would only give them further incentive to fight me, by cutting off their means of retreat and giving a cause for vengeance. The one thing that is certain is that Rainbow Dash must live long enough for us to make use of her. Of course, should we fail to preserve her, there is one other alternative.”

This caught even Orange off guard. So far it seemed as if the purpose of the meeting was to fill Frost in on what she had missed. “Which alternative?” asked Orange this time.

Nightmare Moon cheekily smiled, enjoying the feeling of still having one card up her sleeve. “If all else fails, there is still the other Rainbow Dash.”

Orange didn't know what to think. “The other Rainbow Dash is dead,” she explained. “I confirmed it. We found the records from the Battle of Buraq.”

“Tell me exactly what you found,” ordered Nightmare Moon, even though she already knew. Not understanding the purpose of the exercise, Orange obliged.

“We followed the trail to the Buraq flight academy, where the Rainbow Dash of this world was enrolled. According to the student records, she vanished from school immediately after the rebellion. Talking to the teachers and other students confirmed what we already knew was likely: that Rainbow Dash fought in the rebellion and perished. There were no survivors. You made sure of that.”

Nightmare Moon sighed and checked to make sure that the door to the room was closed. “Madame Orange. Lieutenant Frost. What I am about to tell you does not leave this room. Do you understand?”

Both mares nodded, confused.

“When I visited my school,” explained Nightmare Moon, “I was disappointed that I was not regarded with open embraces. Ponies had learned to fear me in my absence, it seemed. A few of them tried to fight back. Their leader fell immediately. The others followed. Those I could get close to, I converted. The others, I had to clip their wings with lightning. It was foals play. But there was one pony there who put up an unexpected fight. My mind magic has only ever failed twice. Today, with Rainbow Dash, and then, two years ago, on that one tenacious young mare.”

“The other Rainbow Dash?” asked Frost, making the connections.

“In the dark, there wasn't time to notice anything distinctive about her. But we must regard it is a possibility.”

Something about the theory didn't add up to Orange. “But I thought you said that reason you couldn't take control of Rainbow Dash was because of the Element of Loyalty. The other Rainbow Dash had never even come into contact with the Element.”

“There is more to this story,” continued Nightmare Moon. “Details I've done my best to remove from any record of the event. When I could not bend this mare's will, I had to resort to more... brute force methods of removing her from the equation. And in the end, she fell, just like the rest of them. And when she did, something happened. Something I could not explain at the time, although I am beginning to now. For a brief period, beginning when she fell, neither myself nor the unicorns I had already recruited at the Canterlot school were capable of inflicting any harm against the rebels. Our strikes bounced off of them, our magic fell apart. While we eventually captured them, we could not harm them. They should have died that night, but some unforseen influence forced us to spare their lives and take them as prisoners instead. Perhaps Rainbow Dash of this world had discovered the Element of Loyalty. And in defending her school from me, she activated its powers. Her loyalty to her allies protected them. Remember, Orange, that there is no act of loyalty greater than self-sacrifice. If Rainbow Dash died to protect the school that had raised her, than in her final moments, she would have been granted access to the complete potential of the Element's power.”

“And did what with it?” Orange didn't like where this conversation was going.

“I don't know. And that perhaps frightens me the most.” Nightmare Moon paused and watched the shocked expressions of her pawns. “You heard me correctly, Madame, Lieutenant. I am frightened.”

“How is that possible?” questioned Orange. “How could she have found an Element when we, with every scrying spell available, could not locate them?”

“The physical elements have to be somewhere,” reasoned the alicorn. “My sister must have anticipated my return and had them moved from their original resting place in our old home. I've had my guards searching for them since my return, but Equestria is a big country.”

Orange was uncertain. “If I may,” she offered, and she waited for the signal from Nightmare Moon before proceeding. “This... proposal, would require that Rainbow Dash be extremely fortunate. That she would stumble upon not only an element, but her element, by happenstance. It seems rather unlikely.”

“Then it was not happenstance. She had help. And I believe I know where she received it. You told me that your allies had been receiving... visitations from an unknown source?”

Orange nodded. “A unicorn mare. Tracking the solar winds was, for the most part, her idea.”

“Find out who she is. I don't care how. Find out where she came from and what she's planning. I did not understand the source of the mare's power at the time. I thought she was merely a special case. But if the evidence points to her being our world's version of the Loyalty-bearer, we can make use of this information. And it may turn out that we don't need the other world's Rainbow Dash after all.”

Orange nodded in understanding, and Frost followed so as not to appear slow. “So what do we do now?” Frost asked.

“We prepare,” said Nightmare Moon, some of the force of her personality returning to her. “Destiny is waiting for me to become it, and I don’t intend to disappoint.”

Twilight crawled out from beneath the stone wreckage, praising to Celestia that she hadn't been crushed. Her awareness of her surroundings came to her only slowly. How had she gotten here, she wondered. She couldn't remember. Her thoughts were too busy planning what to do next, focusing on the future. And try as she might, she couldn't get them to focus on the past.

Another dream, she realized. She was reliving a memory, and her consciousness was just along for the ride.

She let herself be led through the ruins, walking with a purpose she didn't quite understand. Something about her surroundings struck her as familiar, and she tried to remember if she had ever been here before. A mostly intact wall of mostly intact white stone towered up into her peripheral vision, but she continued to look straight ahead. She had to get to it before they did, even though she had no idea what “it” or “they” were. Whose memory was this, anyway? Hers? Her counterpart's? (And was there really much of a difference anymore?) Or something else?

Her counterpart told her once that she had dreamed about events that, at least of the time of the dream, had not yet happened. What she had described was impossible. Dreaming about the future wasn't something that could happen. It went against so many laws of magic.

And yet so many things had happened that now Twilight didn't know what to think.

In the past month, some of the others had stopped calling her Moonlight. After all, there was no longer another Twilight to confuse her with. But others, particularly the other Twilight's friends, had made sure that the nickname stuck. But Twilight wasn't sure if the distinction mattered anymore.

With each dream, Twilight was gaining more of her counterpart's memories. Sometimes, she even caught herself referencing something that had happened to the other her, or looking at her counterpart's friends as if she had known them for so much more than a month plus a week. And perhaps that was why she was now much more willing to embrace the possibility that yes, she was having dreams of the future. It wasn't that much different from the Pinkie Sense that she had now been able to witness first-hoof. (Or maybe second-hoof? Her situation was rather unique.)

And wasn't the body she was occupying the one from the sun-lit world? Didn't that make her the foreign personality?

But the future. How could she be seeing the future? It wasn't something that made any sense. But if she wasn't looking into the future, what was she looking at?

She crested a hill of refuse, a small circle free of rubble coming into view beyond. A marble fountain in the center had burst, spilling water onto the surrounding cobblestone. Beyond, a regal castle loomed, the architecture intimately familiar to her. Her eyes drifted to the tower where she (or half of her) had lived as the princess's protégé.

The tower was gone, a broken stump sticking out of the palace and coming to a jagged stop less than a story up.

Somewhere, somewhen, Canterlot was in ruins.

A mare standing by the founding, who Twilight had somehow missed until now, turned to look at her sadly. It was the same unicorn that had invaded her dreams before, the tall violet mare with the soft and flowing hair that obscured her shoulders. For the first time, Twilight got a look at the mare's cutie mark, which was partially obscured by a plain red cloak, but what she saw surprised her.

That wasn't possible. Which made it just another item on the increasingly lost list of impossible things to happen recently.

“I'm sorry you have to see this,” the mare told Twilight, and even though they were still a good distance apart, it sounded to Twilight as if the mare was right next to her. “I wish I could forget seeing it too. But some memories make stronger impressions than others, and when you go subconscious-diving... well, some things refuse to leave well enough alone.”

Twilight descended from the rubble onto the Canterlot town square, where the mare was waiting. “You know this is a dream,” she concluded.

“I'm sure you have a lot of questions, Twilight,” said the mare, feeling the fountain with her hoof, surprised by how real the rough texture felt to her. “I'm not keeping you in the dark out of malice.”

“I think I understand, to an extent.” Twilight took a shot in the dark. “This is the future.”

“It's a possible future,” corrected the mare, who Twilight realized (somehow) was called Stargazer. “One I've sacrificed everything to prevent. But that doesn't stop me from seeing it every time I close my eyes.”

Twilight looked out at the decaying and abandoned city. It occurred to her only now that she hadn't seen anypony else in this wasteland. The stillness of the environment filled her with a sense of loneliness. The day seemed impossibly bleak, and she felt irrevocably detached from the rest of the world.

“Was Canterlot important to you?” Twilight asked Stargazer.

The older, taller mare nodded. “I grew up here. My entire childhood was within the city's walls. And that's why I'm not going to let anything happen to it.”

“Which world is this?” Twilight asked. She looked up in the sky and was surprised to see the sun shining. “This is my world. How could this happen?” A possible explanation occurred to her, and she dreaded it. “Is Nightmare Moon going to attack our world?” But, to her surprise, Stargazer shook her head.

“This is not the Nightmare's doing,” answered the mysterious mare. “There are other dark forces at play here.”

“How do you know? How do you see these things? How am I seeing this?” As Stargazer thought for the best way to address the questions, Twilight tried to put the pieces together on her own, speaking her train of thought out loud. “You see futures. We're connected somehow, so I see them too. And because we're connected, we can talk to each other from... wherever we are. And when I shared minds with the other me, I extended the connection to her. Or perhaps she shared it with me.”

“That spell,” said Stargazer, and she frowned, as if something were gnawing at her from within.

“I'm sorry?”

“The spell you used to share you mind with your other self. How did you come up with the idea to invent it?”

The question was unexpected, but not difficult. “Well, that's easy,” began Twilight, and then she stalled. “I... well...” she stammered, trying to remember. “I guess it just came to me. Yeah, that's it.”

Stargazer wasn't satisfied. “Explain the theory behind it. What past research did you use when constructing the spell?”

Twilight tried her hardest to remember. What had she been doing when she had invented the memory spell? What spellcrafters had she been reading? What model spell-matrix had she used as the jumping-off point?

“I did it all on my own,” she concluded. “It wasn't based on any past research.”

Stargazer gave Twilight a questioning look, and Twilight realized how ridiculous it sounded. “I thought innovation was made by standing on the shoulders of giants?”

Twilight laughed nervously. “Not me. I do all my science from scratch.” The disapproving glare from Stargazer was making her uncomfortable. “How is this relevant?” she asked. “What does that have to do with this?” she gestured out to the ruins of Canterlot.

“Such magic should not be used by someone who does not even understand how it works. That spell has such potential for misuse. Such consequences. It is magic that, unchecked and harnessed by a mare that does not know what she is doing, could trigger unimaginable suffering.”

Twilight was indignant. “Not understand what I'm doing? I invented that spell!”

“Without doing any past research, no known templates, and seemingly without any inspiration?”

“What else could have happened? Are you saying I stole the spell from somepony else?” Twilight's pride in her work required that she take offense.

Stargazer, on the other hoof, remained calm. “I'm just asking if you've ever sat back and thought about what that spell could do in the wrong hands. And if it's really such a good idea to use it so recklessly.”

Twilight dismissed the concerns, instead thinking back to earlier in their conversation. “Is that our connection?” she asked, the clues finally beginning to fit together. “You can see the future. And you shared your visions with me using the memory spell. That's how you're appearing in my dreams. You put a piece of yourself inside me. I'm talking to a voice inside my head.”

“Close,” confessed Stargazer. “I am not a voice in your head, or a separate personality locked away in your subconscious. My influence on you was more refined. I shared my memories, including my half of these conversations. You're not talking to a pony. You're talking to a memory from long ago.”

“If you're a memory, how do you know what I'm going to say?” As she spoke, she realized the answer. “You can see the future. You're predicting my half of the conversation with clairvoyance.” The implications of the explanation struck Twilight. “You're saying you're in the past,” she summarized. She had to forcibly silence the voice in her head reminding her that none of this was possible.

“I didn't intend for us to communicate like this,” explained Stargazer. “The idea was for you to have access to my memories, my visions. I hoped they might help you. This splintered offshoot of myself was an unintended side-effect.”

Twilight couldn't escape the niggling feeling that something about the explanation was very off. “But why me?” she asked. And this let to the bigger questions: “How do you know me? Who are you?”

But it seemed that the older mare was done answering questions. Instead, she was staring out across the square, toward the entrance to the palace. Twilight followed her gaze, and she felt the dreamspace get darker and colder, to reflect Stargazer's changing mood.

Above them, the sun went out.

Another mare had wandered into view, on the opposite city of the square. She carried herself well, examining the wreckage and looking rather pleased with herself. She had a white coat delimited by a multi-toned blue mane and tail that swung lightly with her movements but retained its shape. Her short-cut hair parted on either side of her horn, stopping well before her bold gold eyes. Twilight followed the curvature of the newcomer's body down to... her wings?

The mare was an alicorn? And she had no cutie mark, to boot. “Who is she?” Twilight asked. When Stargazer didn't respond, Twilight noticed that the other unicorn was focused entirely on the strange blank-flank alicorn, shaking with heated and unabated rage.

“That is the only creature in all of Equestria that I wouldn't mind tearing limb from limb,” said Stargazer, her explanation deliberately slow, rehearsed. “An evil, valueless monster that deserves the worst fates Tartarus can dish out, who is responsible for more needless suffering than anyone I have ever met.”

Twilight wasn't sure if she had ever seen a pony this bitter. “What did she do?” she asked.

Stargazer's answer was drowned out by a gust of wind that rose up and tore at the air around them. The wind sheared away the surrounding stone, clawing streaks into the ground and walls. What remained seemed to bleed into the new holes, the entire ensemble losing its shape as the world fell apart.

“What?” she cried, trying to make herself heard over the rising wind. Unfortunately, she realized her volume too late, and to her horror the alicorn perked up as she heard the call and turned to find its source. As the pair of bright golden eyes fixed onto her, Twilight felt frozen in place by a frigid intelligence. Twilight wondered what could possibly be behind that unearthly face. Something about the mare also struck her as vaguely familiar, as if they'd met before, once long ago.

And then the world fell apart beneath her and she wasn't able to think about it anymore.

When Twilight awoke, the memories of the dreamscape were still lingering in the back corners of her mind. As they slowly melted away, she began to take notice of her surroundings. She was in a bed in a dirty and cluttered room with wooden walls, and it took her too long to remember that she was in Appleloosa.

The stallion standing over the foot of the bed did not nearly have the patience to wait for her to gather her wits. “Hello again,” he told her. “How did I know you'd be here?”

Twilight did her best to size him up. He was a pale violet earth pony. Large, tough, about the size of Big Macintosh. Also like Big Macintosh, he was very calm. Frighteningly calm. Like the skies before a hurricane.

“I'm sorry,” Twilight offered. “Have we met?”

“You really are such a self-centered little maggot, aren't you?” he asked, the calm breaking down in malice. “Doesn't remember any of the terrible things she's done. Typical.”

Even though Twilight still didn't recognize him, she was able to take a guess. “Silver Shield?”

“I found you,” said Silver Shield, almost giddily. “I found you, and you can't run anymore. Karmic, isn't it? This is your judgment day, Twilight Sparkle. I lost my wife because of you. You took my daughter from me. And now is the time for retribution.”

Eye and Tooth and Nail

Rarity frowned at the arrangement of the fruit on the platter. Apples and walnuts were thrown together recklessly, their colors clashing without regard for presentation. And a week ago, such an effortless attempt would have bothered her.

Such problems seemed trivial now. Who gave a damn how neat the plate looked? It wasn't like Pinkamena would care. Or even notice, in all likelihood.

Her nihilism would have surprised her if she’d noticed it. An uncomfortable stillness had descended over the farm; nopony wanted to acknowledge it, but they all did, accidentally with every sufferance that went unspoken. The hole they left behind by their withheld feelings showed.

Rarity levitated the plate beside her and wondered when she had become the farm's designated waitress. She echoed the Wayfarer's Creed in her head as she carried the meal out the door.

Never do by horn what can be done by hoof. Patience, endurance, and the value of work can't be taught with magic.

And look what it had done to them. What she had insisted was character-building had turned out to be blind stupidity. If her magic had been stronger...

Rarity wouldn't make that mistake again.

She let herself into Pinkamena’s house. It was almost routine to her: carry the food to the back of the house, set the bowl down next to all the others, leave, and hope that eventually she would get hungry enough to emerge.

But this time, when Rarity went to leave her friend's dinner, the bowls from the previous nights were gone. She hoped that this was good news. She hesitated only briefly before knocking on the door with telekinesis. "Pinkie?"

There was no spoken response, but Rarity could hear a shuffling about beyond the door, which was more than she had heard any of the other times.

"I'm coming in," she announced, offering the mare on the other side of the door ample time to raise any objections. Wwhen none came, she pushed the door open and entered.

Sealed off from the rest of the world, Pinkamena Diane Pie had wasted no time in transforming her bedroom into a swamp of strewn dishes, clothes, and heaven knew what else. Rarity gingerly advanced, taking care to avoid stepping on anything hazardous.

The pink earth pony looked to be in even worse condition than usual. Her formerly straight mane was now bent and frazzled, and her eyes were hidden behind dark holes. Whatever she had been doing in this room, it hadn't been sleeping. sShe was carrying a thick sack, filling it with some leftover vegetables and bread.

"Packing, are we?" asked Rarity, not sure how concerned to be about her friend's behavior.

"I can't stay here," answered Pinkamena. "I can't. Nothing’s going to change here. This farm is the past. Too many memories. Too many broken promises. I need the future."

Her tone gave Rarity pause, but she figured that this new energy was better than nothing. Encouragement was going to be needed.

"I'm just glad to see you up and about. I was really worried."

"How long?" Pinkamena didn't even look up from throwing a notebook into the bag.

"Pardon?"

"How long was I out of it? It's a bit of a blur, really."

"A couple days.” It had been nearly a week. “But you seem to be doing better now."

"As well as I can be. I must have been in a sorry state."

This was quite a fast recovery, thought Rarity. Perhaps too fast. But Pinkamena was unbothered by reservations and wasted no time in trying to get caught up. "Where's Applejack?"

"She left." Then, a bit too late, Rarity remembered that Applejack's identity was a secret. "I mean..."

"Don't worry. It was kind of obvious, all things considered. Especially after Twilight. I believed her story, but this was the evidence. So she left, huh? Disappointing. You know where to?"

Rarity shook her head.

"Question. Did she leave on her own, or did you kick her out?"

Something about Pinkamena's speech pattern struck Rarity as off. Not necessarily stilted, but... succinct. Micromanaged. Purposeful. Whether this was for better or for worse, she had no idea.

"Kick her out? Pinkie, you should know that I..."

"Care a lot about other ponies? Yeah. I know. And Applejack brought a heap of trouble upon us. Too much trouble. For the good of the farm, you did what you had to do. I bet you even got her to agree with you."

Rarity stared, dumbfounded. "That's remarkably perceptive of you," she commented.

Pinkamena was unaffected by the compliment. "It's not like I've been able to do much else these past few days," she commented. "Sit and think, mostly. Plan out possible futures. Where I go from here. The problem is, most of them don't make a difference to me."

"Pardon?"

Pinkamena looked up from trying to stuff a blouse into the bag, her eyebrows sagging in boredom. "Like the sun. I could care less if it comes back or not, not like I'll have a choice. We play the hand we're dealt and try to make the biggest change we can, which is never much. And the world spins on. It doesn't even notice. So why I should I care about it?"

"But what about all the ponies that are starving?"

"Good for them. But my goals are personal ones. I don't want to change things for the world anymore. I want to change things for me."

Rarity noticed the bag again. If she hadn't come up when she did, she wondered, would Pinkamena have just slipped away unnoticed?

"Where are you going?" She asked, unable to even begin to fathom the answer.

"I need to finish things. Remember that pegasus mare from the forest?"

Rarity felt an involuntary shiver pass through her. "How could I forget?" The Shadowbolts. The traitors to their own homeland. There was little more terrifying, thought Rarity, than a pony who had long since abandoned any loyalties to the old world. And the uniforms didn't help, either.

"I'm going to find her," said Pinkamena. "And then I'm going to kill her."

"What? No." Rarity scrambled to compose a better response, but she had been thrown. She didn't know how to respond to the claim, and she wasn't sure if she believed it. Pinkamena was the most passive and subdued pony she knew. Rarity couldn't remember the last time she had shown initiative. And now...

"Look, Pinkamena. Please, I know you're angry..."

"I'm not angry," interrupted Pinkamena. "Don't jump to conclusions; I'm not angry. That's the problem." She faltered, and a spasm passed through her as she recomposed herself. "I wish I was angry. I wish I was furious at her, and I know I should be. But I'm not, because there's no point in getting angry. I'm not angry, or frightened of her, or remorseful, or anything! And that terrifies me. Because without those feelings, I don't have any reason to hold back. And what does that make me?"

She stumbled into Rarity's arms, and she held her delicately, as if she could break if she wasn't too careful. Pinkamena continued to sob and rant. "The stallion tried to hurt our family, so I punished him. It was justice. He deserved it. But it wasn't enough. But there was the other one, the mare. She got away. I want to... I want to find her, Rarity. I want to find her and tear off her wings and feed them to her. I want to break her legs and then... and then throw her in a freezing lake to see how she feels. Oh!" Pinkamena buried her face into Rarity's neck. "I don't know what to do, Rarity, and I'm terrified. Because I really do want it. I want to kill her. I want to kill that monster. And I'm scared I won’t be able to stop myself."

Rarity tried her best not to betray her rising horror as she soothed the earth pony. "Take a breath," she murmured. "Just calm down..."

Pinkamena broke off from the embrace. "You don't care, do you?" she screamed, catching Rarity off guard. "Those ponies are murderers, and you don't even care!"

"Of course I care!" cried Rarity, and her shock was quickly overcome by anger. "Sweetie Belle was everything to me. You want to know why I worked so hard to manage this farm? So that even if I couldn't fix the world, I could at least make it into something bearable for her when I'm gone. I'm not going to be in this world forever, and when I go, I wanted my little sister and whatever family she might have formed to be proud of what I had done."

"And none of that's going to happen anymore, is it?" asked Pinkamena. "Everything you've done is meaningless because of them. Everything you've cared about is hopeless. And you're just going to let them get away."

"I never said that..."

"You might as well have. Why don't you see that we have to stop them? You saw what they can do. What's to stop them from hurting more ponies? Revenge isn't evil, Rarity. It's restoring balance. Those pegasi need to pay."

"They have paid, Pinkamena," said Rarity, a word at a time. "I remember what you did to the stallion."

Pinkamena stopped, her entire composure breaking as she struggled to ignore the images and compose a response.

"He didn't have it..." she finally managed to say, unable to do anything but echo the thought that had been echoing constantly since the incident. "I couldn't back down, but he didn't have it. I thought if I just pushed a little harder, then he would give it up, but..."

"And you kept pushing harder," finished Rarity. "And harder and harder until you broke him. Don't accuse me of not caring, Pinkamena. I'm just as hurt and heartbroken as you are. But I'm trying to come to terms with this in a way that doesn't involve blood. Because if we pursue this to its end, whatever we end up creating won't be worth it."

Pinkamena's only response was to bury herself even deeper into Rarity's coat. "I... I understand," she finally said. "But I don't want to just sit here. Doing nothing is worse than anything. Can't we do something for them?" She began to choke up. "I never got to say goodbye. I had my chance, and I blew it. How am I supposed to live with that?"

Rarity tried her hardest to smile. "If you need to talk, then talk. Get closure. Say what you need to say."

Pinkamena hung her head. "It doesn't make a difference anymore. She can't hear me now."

"You don't know that. I don't think you even believe that. You want justice. You want to make her proud of you, and you can't do that unless you believe she's out there, somewhere. If she's gone, then there isn't anything left to do but move on. But if part of her is still around, as a spirit or from the afterlife or wherever, if she can see you offer vengeance, she can hear you tell her whatever it is you never got the chance to."

Pinkamena broke off the embrace and stumbled away. "I need to be alone."

Rarity nodded in understanding and prepared to give Pinkamena her space. When the pink pony beat her to the door, Rarity paused, and began following at a distance. She tried to get inside Pinkamena's head, to predict her thoughts, but the task was impossible. The troubled mare had abandoned logic, instead seeking whatever would give her peace of mind. Peace of mind was probably what she needed. What they all needed.

But her confusion heightened when she followed Pinkamena into the kitchen and watched her rummage through the drawers.

"Are you still hungry?" Rarity asked. "I think we have some..." but the words froze on her lips as Pinkamena drew a cleaver from the drawer and explored different ways of holding it in her hoof.

"Pinkie," warned Rarity. She ran scenarios in her head. "What are you doing?"

"Exactly what I said I would do." Pinkamena made some experimental swings of the cleaver, getting used to its weight. "I'm going to go into the forest. I'm going to find the mare that killed my daughter. And I'm going to ruin her." She pointed the weapon at Rarity, warning her unicorn friend away. "And you are going to let me go."

"Maybe you should go back to bed," offered Rarity, her voice cracking. "We should discuss this. Think before we make any rash decisions."

"No!" Pinkamena took a step toward Rarity. "I am done thinking. All I have done for the past week is think. This is the time for action."

"Please..." Rarity begged, putting her hoof over top of the one Pinkamena was using to hold the weapon.

"I have to do this. This is all I have left of Pumpkin, and I won't let you take what's left of her away from me. I need to do this. For her."

"I doubt this is for her. I don't think Pumpkin would want you to become a killer."

"Don't tell me about my daughter," said Pinkamena, transforming from the fierce containable rage to cold certainty. "You didn't know her. I'll avenge her, and nopony is going to stop me."

To her surprise, Rarity didn't scream or cry when the knife pierced her side. She could still feel it but it didn't hurt; the shock came on far too quickly. She grasp slackened and she released her grip on Pinkamena. The pink pony stand over her, and Rarity was struck by the fire smoldering behind her eyes.

"Pinkie?" said another voice.

Pinkamena turned, more irritated than surprised when she noticed that the pony at the door at already set off on a gallop toward her. She barely had time to raise her knife when the gray stallion collided with her and knocked her to the ground, pinning her limbs.

"Custard! Love!" she said as cheerfully and as innocently as possible given the situation. "I wasn't expecting you." When her husband's grip didn't slacken, her smile faltered as she tried to get out from underneath him.

"Clearly not. What in blazes do you think you're trying to pull?"

"This isn't what it looks like. If anything, you should be helping me. Rarity said that she..."

"I heard what she said, Pinkie."

Pinkamena grinned. "Good!" she said nervously. "Then you can help me." She beamed at Custard, trying to look hopeful. "Well?" she asked when he didn't move. "Get off of me so we can stop her!" When her husband continued to only glare at her, the realization set in. "Not you too..." she murmured. She struggled harder, beginning to flail wildly with the knife, cutting into his back once. He didn't seem to notice.

"You can't do this!" she screamed. "Think about Pumpkin. She needs us."

Custard grabbed her hoof and forced the knife out of her grip. “She doesn't need help. You do. Talk to me." P

"Talk to you?" Pinkamena asked, and she giggled a little.

"Yes. I married you for a reason. Full disclosure."

The words tasted bitter to Pinkamena. "You sure you can handle that? Full disclosure is I married you for exactly one reason, and now she's gone. I can't stand you, Custard. You're a rough brute, and a self-absorbed pig. I put up with so my daughter could have a father."

"Our daughter..." said Custard.

"My daughter. She may have been made from your seed, but she is not yours." Pinkamena sighed, an overemphasized wistful tone. "I really wanted your help," she said. "I thought maybe you would be good for something after all. But if you won't help me the one time I really need it, you're useless." She raised her head and bit Custard in the neck. He flinched just enough for her to pull one of her hind legs from beneath his and bring it up into his groin. She pulled out from beneath him and dove for the knife. When her hooves came up empty, she howled, gnashing her teeth.

Behind Custard, Rarity levitated the knife above their heads. Pinkamena looked back and forth between her friend and her husband, weighing her options.

"I put up with you for her," Pinkamena hissed at Custard. "My life was hers before she was even alive. And if you're not going to be here for her when she needs you, then I don't owe you a thing."

Custard stumbled backwards as his legs lost their steadiness. When Rarity rushed to help him, Pinkamena ran to the door and fled into the night.

"Let her go," said Rarity as she examined the cut on Custard's back. "We can help her any more than we have."

"I know," he said, the fight gone from his voice. "I want to be there for her, I want to help her through this, but I can't, can I?"

"Your back doesn't look bad, although I expect we'll have to bandage it. Let me see your neck."

"You don't think I'm responsible for this, do you?" he asked as he bent his head backwards.

Rarity hesitated. "Perish the thought," she said, a bit too late. "You weren't one of the vagabonds that... that..."

"But I still am responsible, aren't I? She wouldn't have snapped like that if I'd been more... understanding of her. More willing to listen to her."

It was the segue into everything Rarity had been wanting to say since Custard’s wedding, but for now she needed wounds to heal. "We can't know that. There's no point in worrying about the past, only use it better ourselves. If you find fault in the pony you used to be, then figure out how to do better in the future.”

He pushed himself away from Rarity and rested his head in his hooves. "I loved them both, more than anything. I always thought that there's supposed to be this shock after an accident, when the real impact hasn't come yet. So how am I going to feel later?"

Rarity tried to hold him again, and this time he didn't fight. She put her front hooves around his shoulders. "And I miss Sweetie Belle." She didn't know what else to say, so she didn't.

"You still have Big Macintosh."

"And you still have me. And I still have you. I know it's not the same. But we are family, so we're stuck. I've got to stick up for you, regardless of how much of an intolerable bully you happen to be."

Custard tried his best to smile. "And I'll look after you, no matter how much of a self-righteous snake you turn out to be."

"Prick."

"Whore."

Rarity chuckled, and Custard chuckled with her. Rarity tried to adjust her grip and winced as she rubbed against the knife wound. The mood broke, and Custard pulled out of her embrace. "Come on," he said. " Let's make sure you're alright. Then we figure out what to do next, as a family."

"As a family," echoed Rarity.

"Let her go."

"It's terrifying, isn't it?" mused Pinkamena, using the same songful voice of her counterpart, but with malevolence and condescension in place of optimism. She nodded toward the knife that was pressed gingerly against sleeping Apple Bloom's neck. "It's frightening when the ponies we care most about are in danger. What a tragedy this could be, if I slipped. I wouldn't take another step if I were you."

"You're bluffing,” said Applejack. “If you hurt her, then nothing's going to stop me from leaping across the room and kicking your jaw right up into your brain."

Pinkamena rolled her eyes, and Applejack got the feeling she was being silently scorned. "You really want to risk calling my bluff?" she asked. "I have literally nothing to lose. All my life I've wondered whether or not there's a heaven, and now I hope there isn't one. Because if there is, then she's there hating me, and she'll always hate me for the rest of time."

"Yer daughter doesn't hate you, Pinkie," said Applejack. "I'm sure of it."

"Rarity didn't tell you, did she?" asked Pinkie. "About those final moments by the river. All I wanted was to save Pumpkin. And every story we read and hear tells us that if we put one hundred percent of our effort into one thing, we'll get it. Call it conviction, or denial, but I knew that if I just pushed hard enough, I'd find a way to save her.

"And I did push. I'd pushed harder than I thought I had in me. And there was nothing left in me to realize that my baby was right there, twenty feet away from me. I could have spent her last moments counseling her, saying goodbye. But I didn't. And I never will, because I spent the last minute of her life killing some pony neither of us knew right in front of her. And when I finished, when he was gone and couldn't help us anymore, I turned around and I saw her. I don't know when she had woken up or how much she saw, but she was looking at me with the this fear, this total terror, that I knew she didn't even recognize me anymore. I had been given one last chance to make peace, and I threw it away.

"I gave her my life. The only reason I lived was for her. The only way I could feel anything was through her. And now she's gone, and my entire purpose in life has gone with her. I don't want anything anymore. I'm gone, just like she is. But I have to keep on living, even though I don't have anything left to live for. I want to feel. I don't care if I'm happy or sad or furious. Anything other than this. And I figured out how to do it. I can still understand justice."

"What did you do to her?"

"Relax. Sleeping medicine for anxiety. It used to be mine. Don't worry, I measured out the right dose for her. Slept all the way from home to here. I won't hurt her; she's innocent." She put her hoof to her chin in mock thought, the blade cutting into her neck and drawing blood, but she didn't react. "Then again, my daughter was innocent too, and she died because of you. So maybe I will kill her.”

“Don’t you dare,” said Applejack. “She looked into Pinkamena's eyes, looking for any sign of her friend.”

"Then how about you don't make me angry, and I won't have to?" She returned the blade so that it was threatening the unconscious Apple Bloom. "Your choice, of course."

The standoff lasted several terse seconds, and then Applejack deflated. "What do you want?" she asked. A glimmer of hope told her she wasn't giving in, just waiting for the right opportunity, but she wasn't sure if she believed it.

"The Shadowbolt. She's here, isn't she? Bring her. We have some unfinished business."

Fluttershy didn't slow her pace until she was safely within her burrow. She dreaded restocking days. The way the ponies in the streets looked at her, she could tell they were just waiting to follow her back to her little home and take it from her. They would take away her food and her animals, cook them up and cave in the burrow behind her. She had heard rumors about ponies that were resorting to eating meat, and the thought brought her to an even greater frenzy. "Those monsters," she cursed aloud. "I'll never let them get in here. They won't." She would protect her animal friends with her life. Even if meat was pretty delicious.

She halted and tried to figure out where that errant thought had come from. "I've never..." she said, once again slipping into speaking her thoughts where nopony could hear. "I wouldn't."

They were already corrupting her, then. "Maybe I'll just stop going into town," she decided firmly. She could do it, she figured. She was already mostly self-reliant. She could scavenge the Everfree Forest for all the food she might need. And that was all she really needed, right?

But she also needed medical supplies for her and her animals, bandages and alcohol for disinfecting. And she couldn't find those in the Forest.

She set her bags down on a small green rug she had pilfered from an abandoned cottage at the edge of town. Ponyville was a dying town. And those who stayed behind were the ones willing to fight each other over the scant remains.

Hiding in her hole didn't seem like such a bad idea anymore.

A buzzing white noise, low in volume and in pitch, tickled the back of her mind. She winced,winced; the noise always seemed to aggravate her headaches. She followed the sound into the adjacent room, where Angel and Chestnut were watching a crystal radio. When Angel heard her enter, the rabbit grabbed her hoof and pointed to the magical instrument.

"That's okay, Angel," insisted Fluttershy. "We don't need to listen to scary messages from outside. We can just stay nice and safe in here." But Angel shook his head and pulled roughly and despite their size difference roped her in, sitting her down between him and Chestnut. "Okay, this works too." Fluttershy was not in the mood to argue. "What are you listening to? There's nothing on."

They sat in silence for several minutes, until with a crack of static, a tinny yet excited voice came forth from the speaker:

"Twilight, Twilight, if either of you are hearing this, I'm hiding out in Appleloosa."

Fluttershy knew what Angel was asking her to do immediately. The pony in her head, the one that lit up into a brilliant spark whenever she saw a suffering animal, was urging her to take action as well. "Do I have to?" she asked her inner Kindness as much as she asked Angel. But she already knew the answer. She would. Even if not for Angel's urging, if not for the voice in her head, she knew she still had a debt to repay.

"She's not getting better." Fluttershy's prognosis was grim, but she had a commitment to tell Applejack the truth. "She's asleep or delirious most of the day, and when she's not she's too anxious or distracted to talk to me. I can't seem to get her comfortable."

Applejack watched Twilight's labored breathing, and each breath drove another little pinprick of empathy into her chest. "The burns are that bad, huh?"

Fluttershy shook her head. "We got clear of the blast. Twilight... our Twilight, got me far enough away I barely felt it. The other Twilight... this Twilight... she didn't get far enough in time. She got hit by the fire, but... but it still wasn't that bad. Not bad enough for this. She should have healed by now. She has healed by now. As far as I can tell, there's nothing physically wrong with her anymore."

"But something's wrong. Otherwise you just know she'd be up there fighting with the rest of us."

Fluttershy was silent for a moment as she looked at the unicorn in the bed with a critical eye. "Maybe not," she confessed. "This isn't the Twilight we know, Applejack. She's not friendly. Not brave. Maybe she's drawing out her injuries so she can stay in bed."

"You really think she would do that? Pretend to be hurt just so she could lie about while you take care of her?"

"Absolutely," she said, bitter. "She's not our Twilight. She's an impostor. And we can't forget that, not ever."

"Technically, I am."

Fluttershy's ears pressed against her head, and Applejack smiled nervously. Twilight's eyes weren't open. She still looked like she was sleeping. But she continued to speak. "The other Twilight, the one from this world. Gilda attacked her, remember? Left a scar on her face. I don't have that scar. I came from your world."

"Now hold on an apple-pickin' minute. That body might be property of my best friend, but that don't mean you’re her. Your little mind-switchy-dohickey made sure of that. It swapped you."

"But not completely." Twilight grimaced and groaned as she tried to get the words out. "When we came over here, the only things I could remember were the things the me from this world knew. But every time I fell asleep I saw..." she choked up a little. "I saw all of you. I saw how you and Rainbow Dash bonded during the running of the leaves. I saw how we came together to fight Nightmare Moon. And I didn't just see it. I felt it, like I was there. I remembered it. Fluttershy, please. It's not about whether I'm your Twilight or not. I don't know if there's even a difference anymore. I had two lives, and I remember them both." She tried to sit up but winced, clutching her head in her hooves. "I swear to you, I'm just as much Twilight Sparkle as she was."

"You're not," said Fluttershy, but she stumbled over her words.

"I am. Remember when that dragon was threatening to cover Equestria in smoke? I couldn't stop it. None of us could. But you, you saved us. You saved the world." She hesitated. "You saved me." She tried to reach out to Fluttershy, but the pegasus mare drew back.

"No. You aren't. If you were really her, you wouldn't be here right now. If you were really her, you wouldn't have let her die so you could escape from that ship. If you were really her, you wouldn't be lying here in bed; you'd be up and fighting. Because she's a leader. She's strong. She's the one with the plan. You? You're none of that. You're not going to fool me again."

"Fluttershy..." But Twilight couldn't pursue the matter any further; her strength left her and she fell back to the mattress.

Fluttershy got up and went to leave, but she stopped when the door opened and Pinkie Pie stepped in.

"Is it Trixie?" asked Applejack. "Is she here?"

Pinkie shook her head. "Nope! We got a new friend."

Fluttershy and Applejack exchanged silent confusion and concern. And then Pinkie opened the door wide and another pony entered.

Fluttershy wasn't quite sure what to make of what she was seeing. The mare before her struck her as intimately familiar. She had a ragged coat and mane, and in the lighting it was difficult to make the colors out. She had what looked like a large metal plate strapped to her back. The mare also seemed taken off guard by Fluttershy and avoided making eye contact.

"Is that... me, Pinkie?" Fluttershy asked. Of course there would be another Fluttershy. She just hadn't expected to meet her. She also expected the mare to have wings.

"I met her before," said Applejack. "She saved me when I was lost out in the mountains. It's okay, everypony. We can trust her. What brings you here, sugarcube?"

The other Fluttershy ignored the questions and stepped over to Twilight. "I think this is yours," she said quietly, and she pulled the plate off her back and set it on the floor. Twilight struggled to get into a position where she could get a good look at it.

"What is that?" asked Applejack. "Something ain't right here."

"It's the mirror," answered Twilight, puzzled. "I don't know where she found it or how she knew it was mine, but that's the mirror I made. The one for seeing into your world."

"I heard you were hurt," said the other Fluttershy. "It was on the radio, and I knew I had to help you. I still owe you."

Twilight tried to make sense of what the Fluttershy was telling her. Either she wasn't being reasonable, or Twilight's headache made it hard for her to understand what she really meant. "You don't owe me, Fluttershy."

"Yeah. If anything, we owe you," added Pinkie. "You saved Applejack. And Twilight when she was lost in the woods. So we owe you double!"

Fluttershy smiled lightly. "Twilight saved my life," she said. "I can’t repay her, but I'm going to try. Anything I can do to help her, or a friend of hers... I have to, no matter how frightening it is. I owe her."

Twilight searched through both sets of memories to figure out what Fluttershy was talking about. "I never saved you, Fluttershy. I've never even met you before."

"You did," insisted Fluttershy. "Long ago. I was just a filly. I fell. I was going to die. You saved me."

"But I never..."

"Please." Fluttershy seemed desperate, so Twilight stopped talking. "Please, let me help you."

Twilight nodded weakly and closed her eyes, hoping it would make the room stop spinning. "Anything you can do you would be great," she muttered. "Thank you."

The more familiar Fluttershy stepped forward. "She's been having these really bad headaches. Is there anything you can do about it?"

"Don't worry," said the other Fluttershy. "I have a lot of experience dealing with headaches."

Twilight didn't hear much of what came after that, as she was already under.

"So what's the plan?"

Spike needed the conversation. Sitting in the quiet Appleloosa jailhouse, Spike was bored. They had ignored his suggestions and tied him up anyway. He couldn't really feel it through his rough scales, and he could think of several ways to escape off the top of his head: shrink and slip out, grow and bust out, cut the rope on his scales, or raise his body temperature and burn it, a new trick he and Trixie had been practicing the last couple weeks. (Dragon physiology was full of surprises.) These heroes seemed to be lacking experience. They definitely didn't have the training Nightmare had made sure to give him and Trixie. So why were they so hard for Nightmare to eliminate?

He was tied to a chair in the jail's lobby, next to Spitfire, Pinkie Pie and one of the Fluttershys. (He had known about the other world for a while now, thanks to Madame Orange's debriefing. But after Trixie was captured, the sight of the two twin mares was enough for the bizarreness to finally sink in.)

Pinkie was the only one to answer him; the other ponies in the room all looked elsewhere. "So this is the part where the villains give away the entire plan because the hero is tied up and can't do anything, only he's not tied up and he's only pretending and he's going to escape and save the world and get the girl? Nice try bub, but it's not going to work because you're the villain here, not us. And everyone knows that the heroes can't reveal their plan until they do it, not even to their friends who could help or point out flaws or anything, just to make it even cooler when they pull it off. And we are cool, mister!" She jabbed a hoof at Spike. "We. Are. Cool."

"Pinkie's right. I think," added Spitfire. "How do we know we can trust you? You work for Nightmare."

Spike hissed. "I don't work for Nightmare. I belong to Trixie, and sending her back to Nightmare is the last thing she needs. That job... it drained her." He tried to lay back and look nonchalant, but the being tied up made it difficult. "All I'm saying is you need a plan if you want even a chance of beating Nightmare. She's not stupid. And now that she knows you have her most important pony, she'll be coming after you."

"But she doesn't know we have Trixie," countered Spitfire. "We have time."

"I said she's not stupid," said Spike. "You're underestimating her. Don't do that."

"But how..."

"Have you never taken a close look at that cloak Trixie wears?"

Spitfire saw her own confusion mirrored on the faces of her allies. "Why?"

"Because it's not a cloak at all."

Applejack's outlook was grim when she hobbled into the jailhouse, not quite trusting her legs to carry her.

Spike was busying himself by blowing smoke rings and trying to shoot darts of flame through them. He was surprised the ponies hadn't reprimanded him for using his flame breath. The Fluttershy was watching each of Spike's movements like he was an exhibit.

Spitfire looked up from a set of horseshoes she had found in storage and was experimentally swinging about. "I thought you went to bed?"

Applejack shook her head. She started to explain but caught herself. Explain what? That a deranged caricature of one of her best friends had just visited her demanding blood? That she had to turn in Spitfire if she wanted to save her sister? What if Spitfire refused to go quietly? Or worse, what if she insisted on a rescue and somepony ended up dead?

"Tried," mumbled Applejack. "Couldn't sleep."

"You should try harder," said Fluttershy. Applejack made a quick check. No wings. That and the hollow, distant voice told her this was not her Fluttershy. "We can keep an eye on Trixie and Spike. It's the least we can do."

"That's not the issue," stammered Applejack. “How's Trixie?"

Spitfitre whinnied. "Uncooperative. You want to take a shot with her?"

"Sure." The situation with Trixie didn't even seem real anymore; the image of the crazed and armed Pinkamena somehow felt more present than what was unfolding right in front of her. She marched back toward the row of cells.

"Wait!" shouted Spike. Applejack turned and saw he was pleading with her. "Promise me you won't hurt her."

Applejack knew better than to lie. "We need to figure out where the elements are. Where Rarity and Rainbow Dash are. I'm not making any promises I can't keep, Spike."

Spike tried his best to stare her down, but his trembling and quick breath betrayed him. "You can't!" he cried. "You're supposed to be the good guys, right? You help ponies. And Trixie needs help. She's a good pony too!"

Applejack tread carefully to avoid breaking the dragon's heart. "Spike... you see the best in ponies, but you know what she did as well as I did. Heck, you've probably seen her do worse things than we know of. She took our friends. She pretended to be Twilight so she could take us too. She's loyal to Nightmare Moon, through and through."

"She can change!"

Spike was getting desperate. Applejack had to put this to rest. "Spike, I've been around ponies like her long enough to know that they don't change. Once a villain, always a villain."

"But, but," he began, but then he hung his head. "Please don't hurt her," he begged.

Applejack felt like a monster. Even if this wasn't the same Spike, she felt like she was torturing the Spike she knew. "How about this?" she offered. "Convince Trixie to help us, and we'll be nice to her, I swear."

Trixie felt numb all over. Her rump was numb from sitting in the same position for hours, her horn was numb from the poison joke, and her legs were numb from the rope. But she had removed all those concerns from her mind.

"The child of an alchemist
Who sought to use forbidden art
To orchestrate a royal tryst
And steal the Crystal Maiden's heart.

He fathomed up enchanted brews
To mix an acrid smelling potion
That glowed with vile murky hues
Whose consumption brought devotion."

"What in the name of Harmony is she doing?" asked Applejack.

"We were hoping you could tell us," said Spitfire. "She's just been muttering to herself all day. I think she's gone crazy."

"No, it's to keep her from going crazy," said Spike. His gaze was averted, not looking directly at her. "She keeps her mind on something else, something she knows well, so she doesn't have to think about what's really happening. Nightmare taught her to do that. It's The Kingdom Out of Time. You know, the poem about the Heart and Hooves day story? She thinks she's going to be rescued soon, she just needs to outlast you."

Trixie ignored them all, unheeded.

"He offered up his denouement
The draught of love and lust entwined
Which from her heart drove fear of harm
And reason from her mind"

Applejack tried to tune out the chanting. The resigned inflectionless voice seemed unearthly. "Trixie," she commanded. Nothing changed. The unicorn continued unperturbed. Applejack tried calling her name again, louder this time, to no effect. She grabbed Trixie's muzzle, holding it closed. "No more creepy poetry, Trixie. Do you understand me?"

Trixie's features sharpened. She followed the hoof with her eyes, ending by looking into Applejack's face. She made no acknowledgment of her situation. Unsettled and realizing she was getting nowhere, Applejack released her.

"He watched his work with muffled sighs.
And from the draught he too partook
So she would see with lover's eyes
His hungry form when she awoke."

Applejack noticed the clasp around Trixie's neck and followed it to the cloak behind her. It flapped slowly, even without a breeze. "Give me that," she said and grabbed the cloak with her other foreleg. It was warm, and it tickled her, as if each thread were moving on its own.

At the moment of contact, Trixie screeched and pulled away. Her sudden strength startled Applejack, and she let go. Trixie cradled the cloak in her hooves. "Don't touch us," she begged of Applejack.

"Ain't you a little old for the royal 'we', sugarcube?"

Trixie was shaking. "Don't touch us," she repeated.

"Applejack..." warned Spike.

Applejack advanced and cornered Trixie against the wall. "Now that your little nonsense babble is over with, I have some questions for you. Where are Rarity and Rainbow Dash?"

Trixie whimpered as she tried to straighten out the cloak. Applejack swung a leg beneath her neck, pushing her up against the wall. "Where are they?" she shouted, and Trixie winced and turned away from her assaulter.

"Stop it!" cried Spike. "You promised!"

"Come on, Spike! Do you really think that Nightmare Moon's giving our friends anywhere near the kindness we're giving Trixie? She's probably got them locked up someplace and has 'em hurting real bad, if she ain't got rid of them already. We got the high ground, not them, and so Trixie here is going to tell us how to save them before I show her exactly how much they mean to-" and Applejack was knocked into the ground by a claw larger than her body. She squirmed, trying to turn around onto her back and stare the now-enormous dragon in its eyes. Smoke curled from its nostrils, and it had a vacant gaze that made Applejack worry about how good she might taste.

"You have Trixie because I agreed to help you,” said Spike, his voice octaves lower and resonating off the narrow walls. “You are still alive because I agreed to help you. We do this on my terms."

Applejack nodded, and Spike removed his claw. "Be civil. Trixie will answer anything you ask her."

Trixie shook her head and opened her mouth to protest, but Spike's angry eyes silenced her.

Applejack climbed to her hooves, checking her body for bruises. "Thank ye, Spike." She was feeling extremely conscious of the pair of unearthly eyes judging her. The dragon had shrunk again; he was now about Celestia's size, small enough to no longer be terrifying, but Applejack still was in no mood to test him. "Trixie.” She punctuated the name. “Where are my friends? Are they safe?"

Trixie's breath was labored; she almost seemed to be choking. "Please," she begged. "Don't do this."

"It's okay," said Spike, his comforting words ill-fitting with his deep voice. "She can't hurt you. We're making you do this. You don't have a choice."

The words sounded sour to Applejack, but they calmed Trixie. Her shoulders slumped and her head lowered. "Your allies are alive,” she said, sounding a little calmer, but not much. “Not unharmed, but alive. Nightmare knows that Rainbow Dash can open a gate between our world and yours. She wants to study that power and find another way across. A way that makes your Rainbow Dash disposable."

Applejack straightened her posture and stood over Trixie. "That ain't gonna happen. She won't lay a hoof on our friends if we can help it."

Trixie looked at up Applejack with pursed lips. "There are greater things at stake than Rainbow Dash. No one on your side knows you're here, or they would have tried to rescue you by now. Without Rainbow Dash, you're stranded. You have no way to warn your world that Nightmare Moon is trying to break through. She'll bring an army and catch the world by surprise."

"That ain’t gonna matter once we have Rainbow safe," said Applejack, barked like an order.

"Saving Rainbow Dash isn't going to stop her. You didn't see her when Orange said she’d been defeated in your world. She wants Celestia to suffer, and if she can hold a grudge for a thousand years, she can find another way through. What about Rainbow Dash’s twin?"

“Hey, Meanie Junior!” said Pinkie, who leapt up to her feet and pointed a hoof at Trixie. “Don’t bring Other-Dashie into this! She tried to stop Big Meanie at that school-place and so you guys got rid of her!”

Trixie mulled over this in a moment of silence, and then her lips curled upward. "You really think that Rainbow Dash is dead because she stood up to Nightmare?" The idea seemed to ignite a new fire in her. "You really have no clue what you're up against, do you? Ponies are always more useful to her alive than dead. After all, I tried to kill her once, and look at me."

Applejack's next question sputtered and died on her lips. "What was that? You tried to kill Nightmare Moon?"

Trixie forced a chuckle. "Oh dear. You really don't know anything, do you? When Nightmare returned, she came looking for followers. As your pink friend already told you, she visited the Buraq Flight Academy, Luna's old school for pegasi and recruited her Shadowbolts. But she also came knocking at the other two old schools, the Sleipnir School for Remarkable Earth Ponies and Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. None of them went quietly. She came to the unicorn school last, using the army she'd already amassed to take us down, but several of the students fought back. I was their leader. During the battle, I attempted to take her out but was captured instead. Instead of killing me, she put on a big show of promoting me to her second-in-command."

"Why on earth would she do that?" Spitfire interrupted.

Trixie paused long enough to glare at her. "Because death would be too quickly. So she gave me a title that looked like power but tasted like slavery. And she made me love it." Trixie pawed at the clasp of her cloak without looking at it. "I hated her for it, at first. I tried to fight it. I tried to fight her. But it kept getting harder, and then I realized that my heart just wasn't in it. And that... isn't that nice of her?" Her lips curled up in what might have passed for a smile. "It was so easy to just help her. It kept things level. I liked it level. Why did you take that from me?" Her voice softened, and she sounded pained.

"You oughta know we ain't just gonna keel over and let Nightmare Moon have her way with us," said Applejack.

"Why not?” Trixie’s question seemed genuine. She was too busy holding herself together to lie. “Why do you have to fight her?"

"You did once. You know why," said Spitfire.

Spike stepped between them and put his arm on Trixie's shoulder, but she glowered and shoved him away.

"It don't matter why we fight, Trixie. We're gonna bring back Celestia or die trying. If you don't want to help us, fine. But at least tell us what you know and give us a fighting chance. What about the Elements of Harmony? Where are they?" Applejack pulled the lone Element from her saddlebags and cradled it her hooves. "We found one of them, but the others were missing."

Trixie focused on the stone sphere, and she calmed a little. "You think we found the hiding place of the Elements and only took some of them? Do you think us fools?"

It was a decent question, thought Applejack, and one she hadn't considered. "Then what happened?" she asked. "Someone took the Elements and left this one. Who else could it be?"

Trixie glowered. "You are asking the wrong ponies. Had Nightmare's connection to the Elements not been severed, had she been able to sense them as she had planned, we would have already taken all of them."

"You took them," insisted Applejack. "There's no other explanation."

"Isn't there? Nightmare isn't the only one who would stand to gain from the Elements of Harmony." Trixie shrugged and refused to elaborate, but whether this was because she didn't know anything more or didn't care to share, Applejack wasn't sure. But she knew she wasn't going to learn much more of value.

They had just left Trixie behind in her cell and were minutes into discussing their next move when Trixie screamed, an anguished wail of pent-up frustration and loathing that bounced off the walls and rebounded on her.

Spike winced and tried to keep his breath steady. "Let me back in," he ordered. "I need to talk to her."

"That ain't happening," said Applejack. "We're keepin' her tied up and powerless, remember? We ain't waitin' on her hand and hoof."

Spike snorted, and Applejack watched the smoke trailing from his nostrils with a sickening curiosity. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this because I know that if Trixie were in her right mind, she'd want me to. So if I'm going to hold the mare I love against her will, the least I can do is make her comfortable."

"Love?" asked Fluttershy.

Applejack balked as she realized that Spitfire, Pinkie, and Fluttershy were looking to her for direction. She wondered when she had become the leader of the group. "Was it true what she said in there? That she tried to kill Nightmare Moon?"

Spike nodded.

"There's a story there, ain't it? Somethin' real useful this time."

"Let me help her," repeated Spike. "Let me help her and I'll tell you anything you want to know. Try and stop me and the surrender's off." He leaned forward and grew, the front of him lunging without his feet ever leaving the floor. His face twisted from a plump youthfulness to one of weariness. "And you don't want that. Trust me."

Applejack swallowed hard. "Alright. Fluttershy? Keep an eye on Spike and Trixie. Make sure they don't try anything."

"Actually, I was thinking I should go meet, um, other-Fluttershy and check on, you know, our project?"

"Fair 'nuff. Pinkie, can you look after Spike? As for Spitfire, we kind of need to talk."

Time was up. Come clean or die.

Applejack needed a good reason to get Spitfire to stop watching Trixie and come back to the abandoned home they had purloined for sleeping in, and she figured that "a mirror image of one of my best friends wants to kill you" probably wasn't going to cut it. And there was an easy way to do that if Applejack didn’t mind playing with a vulnerable mare’s emotions.
She wasn’t much of a liar, but for Apple Bloom she’d try anything. So once the interrogation was over she took Spitfire outside and propositioned her. Spitfire had been surprisingly receptive to her advances. Applejack had more trouble convincing the surprisingly pent-up mare into moving somewhere more private.

"I'm sorry," said Spitfire between gasps for breath as the pair meandered back toward the home. "I really need this." Applejack chose to interpret that as a testament to Spitfire's shallowness.

"I just wanted to say thank you," Applejack stumbled over her words as she led Spitfire into the crumbling building. Given how bad of a liar she was, she wanted to keep words to a minimum. But she needed to keep her distracted and talking so that she didn't realize that her heart really wasn't in it. "You didn't have to do any of this. Risk your life, throw away your good standing with Nightmare Moon, all that for me."

"It wasn't for you, I promise," said Spitfire. "It's for Soarin. I'm not going to let him die as a powerless pawn of the Nightmare. He spent all his time, up to his dying breath, trying to convince me that I needed to fight back, so that's what I'm going to do. For him. And when we save the world I'm going to make sure the whole world knows it wouldn't have been possible without him.”

This glimpse into Spitfire's psyche made Applejack uncertain. Spitfire wasn't alone. She had the weight of a nation on her back, with the posthumous approval of one pony meaning more to her than all the rest of them combined. "You loved him?" asked Applejack. It was a lot to be admired, but Spitfire wasn't the only one fighting in the name of a pony she loved.

"Not that way," answered Spitfire. "I don't bend that way. And Soarin knew that, and he didn't care. He knew we were better than that. Is there a word for that sort of relationship? 'Love' gets watered down too easy."

Spitfire threw her life away for Soarin. Applejack was about to throw a whole world away for Apple Bloom. Could she really do that? Without Spitfire, their odds of finding the other Elements and their bearers were slim to none. But it was her fault that Applejack had to make the trade in the first place.

Besides, was this world really worth it? It wasn't going to get any better, and it couldn't get much worse. Could she throw away this Equestria's only hope of salvation to save her sister's life? Yes. Yes she could.

They were just through the door when Spitfire started nuzzling her again. "Not here," said Applejack quickly. "Upstairs."

Spitfire's eyes widened into marbles. Applejack pulled her up the stairs and into her bedroom, counting down the seconds until Spitfire figured out that this wasn't going to turn into alone time for them.

"Applejack?" the voice was of concern, confusion, but not betrayal. Not yet. That was sure to come later. "Applejack? What's going on?" It was more insistent now, and she turned to look at what was bothering her. There was a single shape in the bed, unmoving. She shoved Spitfire trying to get to the bed. "Is that..." began Spitfire.

"My sister. Yeah." Now that Applejack was closer, she could make out the rise and fall of Apple Bloom's chest. "She's breathing. Thank Celestia."

"Thank Celestia? Why are you relieved? Why would you think she... what is she doing here?"

"It's not right," murmured Applejack. "This isn't right. Where's Pinkie?"

Spitfire took a step away from Applejack. "What are you talking about, I thought you and I…"

"Where's Pinkie?" roared Applejack. "Find her."

"She's back with Trixie, we left her behind, we..."

"Not her. The other Pinkie,” Applejack barked as she pulled all the sheets off the bed and checked underneath the frame. “She was here. She was just here! Find her!" Applejack paced, scanning the room for something, anything, that would help her make sense of things. Pinkie had to be somewhere, she was somewhere and she was planning something...

The door slammed shut behind them.

Applejack turned on her heels, dashing back to the door. She tried to push it open, but something was blocking it from the other side. "Pinkie!" she screamed. "What are you doing?"

"An eye for an eye.” The voice from the other side of the door was flat, resigned. “I didn't get to say goodbye. Neither will you." Applejack felt her heart twist up. She motioned to Spitfire to stay still and silent as she looked over the doors hinges, trying to find the best place to buck it to break it down. Something itched at the back of her throat.

"You don't have to do this, Pinkie," said Applejack.

"My story's over, Applejack. So is yours. You and the Shadowbolt need to learn that other ponies don't give a damn about your problems. That's why we call them your. Fucking. Problems. So if you're going to have your hero complexes and your cowardice, you either keep it to yourself or you take responsibility for the people you hurt when you make them involved. You owed me your boyfriend, Shadowbolt, so I took him. Applejack owes me her sister, so I'm going to take that too. And then all three of us will have nothing left, our stories will end."

Applejack caught the pained look on Spirfire’s face. "Maybe," she said. "Or maybe you can still find something worth fighting for. What happened to Pumpkin wasn't fair. But she ain’t the only good person caught in all this. Ponies have starved. Appleloosa's abandoned. Cousin Braeburn's missing. Did you know that, Pinkie? Apparently he was hanging with some crowd that Nightmare didn't like, and he was dragged from his home and never seen again. Everywhere you go, ponies are hurting. We can't save Pumpkin, but we can save the other ponies like Pumpkin, the ones who have bright futures and don't deserve to have everything crushed in the name of some petty war. We're doing this for them, because one more pony that gets hurt because we couldn't stop it is another one on us. And you can help us. You know what they've been through. You know how they hurt. You know, more than anypony else, that they need our help because they can't do it alone."

Silence from behind the door. Applejack kicked out just below the hinges, trying to knock the door off of them. The door groaned and shook, but despite its age it stayed in place and didn't splinter. She tried again, and the thinnest of cracks formed along the direction of the grain. A third kick and the crack spread, the door rocking.

"Applejack," warned Spitfire. The sturdy earth pony ignored her, but she already felt her energy fading. She was out of breath, much sooner than she would have thought. Her throat burned. An acrid smell was gradually more noticeable. And then Applejack saw the smoke filtering in through the cracks around the door-frame. With a renewed vigor, she took once again to breaking the door down.

Spitifre dropped to the ground and crawled toward the window. The glass was thick enough to be nearly opaque, and a thin layer of black and yellow soot was beginning to form along the edges. She scanned the room for anything that could smash the window, but the room was spotless. She was starting to feel the heat now. She didn’t know how large the fire was, but the smoke coming from the cracks was only growing thicker. "Applejack!" she hissed. "Save your breath."

"I can do it," promised Applejack. "This place is a garbage heap." She threw another kick but staggered as it landed. Spitfire watched the cracks spread some more. Maybe Applejack could get the door down before she collapsed. But then what? If Pinkamena was really on the other side, just waiting for them all to die, they'd still need to get past her, down the stairs, and outside before the heat and smoke killed them.

"Your sister," she whispered. "What about your sister?"

Applejack hesitated, and then her legs hit the door weakly and slid back down. She climbed onto the bed, her legs feeling heavier than normal. She watched Apple Bloom sleep, curled up in a ball and oblivious to the danger going on around them. "Let her sleep," she decided. "She doesn't need to see this." But inside, Applejack's resolve hardened. "I'm not going to let her die, Spitfire," she announced. "We're going to find a way out of here." She rolled off her bed, but her legs gave out when she tried to land. Spitfire crawled to her side to help her get up, but she pushed her away. "Get Apple Bloom out of the bed. Away from the smoke." She hadn't faced too many fires before, but she was familiar with the common safety tips. Stay low. Don't breathe the smoke. Stay calm.

The door was still jammed. Whatever was blocking it, be it furniture or even just a death grip by Pinkamena, it wasn't budging. Applejack hadn't heard any sounds other sounds for a good while now, but she couldn't tell if Pinkamena had left or had succumbed to the smoke.

Spitfire pulled Apple Bloom out of the bed, cradled the unconscious filly, and watched Applejack crawl toward the window. She grabbed the window frame with her front legs and struggled to push herself up, raising her head up into the smoke. Her legs spasmed and she fell back down. Precious seconds passed, and Spitfire's expression soured with each moment that Applejack didn't pick herself back up. Just when she was ready to give up and close her eyes, when the seconds blurred together so that Spitfire could no longer tell them apart, she saw Applejack rise. With a single motion, carried forward more on momentum than any remaining fortitude, Applejack reared up and smashed the window with her front hooves.

The backdraft consumed Spitfire's world. As the oxygen surged into the room, the fire was finally visible, pouring through the cracks in the door to meet the fresh air halfway. Spitfire only had time to wrap herself protectively around Apple Bloom before everything was angry and bright. The flames surrounded her, and the heat didn't hurt as bad as she had imagined. She felt her skin blistering, and the smell of singed costcoat assaulted her like someone had jammed a screwdriver up her nose, but the pain was strangely different, like it was happening to someone else.

And then she was free. The flames faded away behind the veil of smoke that had descended over everything. Spitfire couldn't even see Apple Bloom beside her, but she could still feel the filly in her hooves. Applejack was gone, or maybe just hidden by the smoke.

What lingering consciousness she had warned her that she had probably had seconds to live. This was her punishment, she thought. Just like Soarin, she was paying the price for her obedience to the Nightmare Queen. She deserved this. At least maybe now she could finally apologize to him.

The filly in her arms coughed, wet dirty and ragged, and Spitfire mourned. Just like the other fillies. Right in front of her. Because of her. Her fault.

But it didn't have to be. If she was going to move on and meet her maker, maybe she could settle her score on earth first. She tried to stand, but her legs protested, sending icicles up her nerves and refusing to move. Grunting from the pain and exertion, she dragged Apple Bloom and her own useless legs in the direction she hoped the window was in. Every muscle she had was begging for her to give up, including several she didn't know could even hurt. She could feel her heart straining in her chest, and she wondered if it was on the verge of giving out.

She bumped against the wall. Taking one last deep breath and then instantly regretting it, she focused everything on lifting Apple Bloom and climbing out the window. Her hoof caught on the broken glass around the edges, cutting deeply into her wrist. Another leg gave out entirely, and she couldn't even feel it anymore. None of that really mattered as much as redemption. Forgiveness. She wasn't long for this world anyways.

The pair tumbled out of the window, landing on an awning and rolling down the side. Spitfire thought to open her wings, and the drag tore at them unbearably, but their descent slowed before they tumbled off the side and collapsed onto the ground.

Spitfire had done it. She'd done it, right? She checked on Apple Bloom, who to her utter amazement was still breathing. Not very well, as her breaths were short, labored, and separated by hacking fits, but that was better than nothing. She lifted the filly onto her back again and crawled away from the flames, trying to put as much distance between her and the burning building as she could.

Ahead of her, through a thin layer of smoke, Applejack had already beaten her outside. She had no idea how the farmpony was even conscious. She was missing her coat entirely in a large patch that ran down her neck and right side, and what remained didn't look like any skin Spitfire had ever seen. One of her front hooves was twisted at an impossible angle. And she was staring down a filthy bloody pony whose coat was streaked with so many colors Spitifre couldn't even begin to guess which ones it was supposed to be. The other pony seemed just as worse for wear, but moved without a limp, without even a hint of exhaustion. She had something sharp and reflective in her mouth, and Spitfire didn't have to make many guesses to figure out that it was a knife. The two ponies were shouting something, but it didn't even sound like language to her ears.

Silver Shield stepped out of the prison and watched the sky. He had told the others that he needed a breather. In actuality, he had decided that now was the perfect time to put a niggling feeling to rest by going stargazing.

The Ponyville Light hung nearly directly overhead. "And here you are," he muttered. "Aren't you supposed to be a day's ride east of here?"

The Light didn't respond, not that he expected it to. He wondered if it could even hear him.

"I know you can think," he told the Light. "You helped Twilight Sparkle get away from me. Would you have done that if you knew what she took from me?" He watched the light bob above him; it couldn't be more than ten yards above his head. “Maybe you do know what's she's done. It wasn't enough for you to save her out in Ponyville, so you're still trying to protect her from me here. And I can't begin to understand why."

"Silver?" The earth pony turned around and saw Spitfire watching him from a cloud. "Is there something you need to talk about? Talk to a real pony, I mean, and not just the stars?"

Silver Shield fixed her with a glare. "There was one thing that's been bugging me," he told her. "You knew that Trixie was an impostor, right from the start. Why was that? What would you have done if the real Twilight showed up instead, given my opinion of her? "

Spitfire felt frozen in place by Silver Shield's interrogation. As long as she was on the cloud, the earth pony wouldn't be able to reach her, but this didn't calm her much. "I don't know," she said. "Ask Applejack. It was her plan."

"Would you like to know my theory?" said Silver Shield. He didn’t wait for an answer. “I concluded there were only two possibilities. Either you had definite evidence that Twilight was dead, or you knew her to be alive. And then you told Trixie you knew she was dead, but you also told her you hadn't heard from her at all. One of those was a lie." He pointed a hoof at the Ponyville Light. "See this thing? It follows her. I don't know why, or how, but it does. It came to Ponyville when she did and protected her from me. Now it's in Appleloosa, and I think it's because she’s here too.”

Spitfire looked at the house where they were keeping Twilight and then at the prison, deciding who to warn first. He caught her gaze and followed her line of sight down the road. "Let me make myself crystal clear," he ordered. "Where is Twilight Sparkle? You can tell me now and save us a lot of trouble, or I can go kick down every door in this town until I find her, your choice. But tell me, Spitfire. When I find her, which choice is going to put me in a more amicable mood?"

"I’ve waited two years for this," Silver Shield told Twilight Sparkle,” and I don't want to wait a moment longer." He pulled a longsword from the scabbard on his back, and Twilight was hit by a rush of terror. "But I will." He balanced the sword in his mouth, but he made no move to use it.

Twilight's brain was sluggish from panic and a generous helping of sedatives. Either he was talking nonsense or she was just too slow to catch on.

"I want you to die," he explained. "But not like this. You're a wounded animal at worst and a martyr at best, and I'm not about to slaughter either. I’m not a killer like you. I want you to feel shame for what you’ve done, to understand that you deserve death."

Twilight tried to sit up, but the effort proved to be too much for her, and she fell back panting for breath. And for the first time in a good while, Twilight was afraid. Her fear perhaps even eclipsed any fear she felt when she had fought Nightmare Moon. Because against her, Twilight had been the hero.

She had never quite thought about it that way before. Fighting Nightmare Moon gave her a purpose and a destiny. It gave her a sense of control in an otherwise uncontrollable situation. Now she was a victim, dragged into the fight against her will. Fighting Nightmare Moon was a meaningful battle, but Silver Shield? In some twisted way, he was the hero, the one with a quest. She was just along for the ride.

Except that wasn't true at all, chided the voice in her head, the voice of bitter and inconvenient truths. After all, he's not wrong. You killed Stone Wall. This is your fault.

And if Silver Shield knew that she was already thinking that way, he would kill her.

The ride she was on was beyond her power to stop, but it hadn't always been. She remembered the encounter in the cave. Stone Wall had forced her hand with every emotional appeal she could muster. But all Twilight had to do was say no. Explain that she wasn't going to use a stranger as a guinea pig. She could have managed that, right?

She had been thrown by her determination, her odd sort of desperate devotion. Yet, she hadn't sensed much weakness from Stone Wall. Vulnerability, yes, but a self-acknowledged vulnerability. It was a trait of strength.

Which meant if she was running, then it was truly necessary. It was about something greater than her own safety. Her child, then. She was trying to protect her child, and the risks of an experimental journey were still less dangerous than whatever was waiting for her here. Something had terrified her so much she had feared for the life of her unborn foal. And she had risked both her own life and the life of her child to escape, because this world was not a safe place to be born into. And an inkling in her suggested that maybe, just maybe Stone Wall wasn't running from Nightmare Moon, but something even more dangerous.

She remembered the mural Silver Shield had painted in the library. The first time, she had seen it as a memorial driven by love and fond remembrances. Now she recognized it as ruthless obsession. And when the first target of his obsession fled, Silver Shield had found a second one in Twilight.

She wondered if she had the strength to pull off magic. She was exhausted, and she worried that whatever drugs she had been administered could interfere with her attempts. If she tried to pull a trick and succeeded, she could gain the upper hand, assuming that Silver Shield didn't disrupt the attempt with a painful kick to the horn.

"I've learned from our last encounter." He was relaxed now, speaking as if he were among friends. "I underestimated you. Just like Stone Wall underestimated you. She was too trusting. I was too lenient. And you used that against us." He scoffed. "She insisted on going unarmed. She turned her back to you because you had fooled her into believing you could stop the Nightmare Queen. She gave you every chance a pony could give. But she knew where you were hiding, and that made her a threat to your miserable little schemes. So you won her over, and once you figured out no one else knew where you were, you trapped her and used her as a guinea pig for your criminal experiments."

Twilight's mind conjured the image of Stone Wall going up in flames in front of her. A hot sweat broke out on Twilight as she felt the heat of an imaginary fire.

"You seem bothered," observed Silver Shield. "Feeling guilty?"

"I didn't use her," said Twilight with little conviction, almost a plea to Celestia that what she was saying was true. "I never wanted to hurt her."

She felt a blow to her ribcage as Silver Shield struck her, and she rolled away from the attack, almost falling out of the bed. "Pathetic," he said. "Still trying to play the victim. At least you're finally admitting it even happened."

"I swear," said Twilight, gasping for breath. "I was researching other worlds," she told him. There wasn’t much use in keeping secrets anymore. "Other places, far away from Equestria, where the sun still shines. Like none of it ever happened. Stone Wall asked me to take her there."

"Liar," spat Silver Shield. "I already heard this mirror-world hogwash. And even if it weren't something out of a foal's fantasy, I still wouldn't believe a word you say, because I know Stone Wall. We loved each other. She was my everything. We were going to raise a child together. And you're saying she left all that behind, left me behind, because my Stone Wall, my brave little soldier decided to be a coward. She would have come back for me, but you killed her."

Twilight tried to figure out the best way to reason with Silver Shield, but he seemed to have already made up his mind.

"Confess," came the order from the stallion.

"What?"

Another kick to the leg told her that this wasn't the right answer.

"Confess."

Twilight tried to pull her wits together. She was better than this. She was trained in magic that could bend the world in ways Silver Shield could only dream of, so why wasn't she using it? She needed to focus and pull something together. A shield. A teleport. Chains. Anything that could protect her. She had the knowledge and the power, but her headache (and ache in general) made it difficult to find. She wondered if this was somehow karma, payback for kidnapping the other her. For killing Stone Wall.

Still, even without magic, she could try and play by his rules. "Isn't coercion..." A jab at her windpipe interrupted her and she sputtered for a while before she could speak again. "Isn't a confession achieved by coercion not admissible in a court of Equestrian law?"

She hadn't taken just magic classes at the Academy.

Silver Shield hesitated, but then rained down another blow anyway. "Cheeky bastard," he swore to himself. "I'm not forcing you to do anything. I am suggesting that you confess. I am also seconds away from sitting on your windpipe. The power's in your hooves, really."

Twilight was fairly certain that Silver's response wouldn't hold legal water, but she didn't know which precedent would prove that. So she switched to Plan B: screw the headache and magic her way to freedom. Her horn lit up, much duller than she was used to, and she ignored the pain that was now splitting her skull and focused on gathering strength into her horn.

Silver Shield huffed. "You can't fool me the same way twice," he said through clenched teeth. "That isn't going to work." He raised his front hoof and swung it down.

The sound of thunder echoed within the room, and it made Twilight want to hide her head somewhere far, far away from any sound, or light, or pressure. But as her vision slowly swam back into focus, she saw Silver Shield get knocked backward into the opposite wall.

Twilight struggled to climb out of bed. Staying in one place certainly wasn't going to do her any good. "You can't fool me the same way twice," she echoed. "After I got away from you last time I did some research. Violent responses to magical disruption are generally something unicorns learn to prevent. But wouldn't you know it, it's possible to induce them, too."

Still, Silver Shield was in better shape than she was. As soon as he was back up, she'd be in danger again. Her time was short. She needed to get out of here. She put her weight on the bed to carry herself past it to the door, and that's when she noticed the metal plate resting on the floor. The mirror she had left in the Everfree Forest when she had first crossed over, a month and a half ago. The mirror that Fluttershy had found and carried all the way to its current location, where she could reunite with it.

"I wasn't lying about the other world," she told Silver Shield, whom she noticed was already climbing back up onto his feet. "I can show you." She clambered over to the mirror and tapped the panel on its base. The column of light sprang up, and through it they saw the wall, the paint no longer faded or torn. A picture frame hung on the wall, depicting a family, a mother and father and their three young children, smiling brightly at the camera.

Silver Shield looked back and forth between Twilight and the shimmering screen, and he checked for any glow from her horn. "This is just another illusion, isn't it?" he demanded.

"I swear it's not." Twilight figured he wouldn't take that on faith alone. "You can move it, if you like. Look around. I swear to you, everything you're seeing is real."

The stallion approached the device carefully, and examined it from every angle while still remaining an entire body's length away from it. Satisfied, he reached out to touch it, and when it didn't explode or burn him, he finally lifted it up in a single hoof and moved around the room with it. He swung it slowly, exploring the image beyond. Twilight watched him for any signs of anger for frustration, but she still jumped when he dropped the mirror, which rang dully when it hit the floor. "Shit!" he cried, as if the device had suddenly become unbearably hot. "There are ponies there! Turn it off!"

Twilight rushed forward and pressed the panel, and the light disappeared, leaving them alone once again in the dark and worn house.

"Can they see us?" asked Silver Shield. "I swear the mare was looking right at me."

Twilight was inspecting the mirror for damage, but it appeared to be unharmed. "The spell creates a four-dimensional magnetic transform matrix that acts on the photons that pass through." She saw the blank stare on Silver Shield and remembered his lack of patience. "Yes, they could see us. It works both ways."

Silver Shield no longer looked angry. Just pensive. "And what did we look like to them? Just a floating window in midair?"

"Basically. But it's just an image. We can't climb through, and neither can they. I wish it were that easy."

"Are there any of these things over there?"

Twilight blinked. "Sorry?"

"These window things. Did you make any of them over there?"

"I don't think so." Twilight thought back on everything she had done during her brief stay in the sunlit world. " I turned a lake into one temporarily, but that would have worn off by now. So no, there aren't any mirrors sunside."

"Sunside?"

"I had to call it something." Twilight couldn't believe the stallion that had tried to kill her twice was now embarrassing her about what she chose to name the parallel universes she discovered.

"But no mirrors sunside? You're sure of it?"

"I'm sure now. Why do you ask?"

Silver Shield was silent. "No reason," he said at last. "Just a hunch. But if you're absolutely sure, then I guess that seals it." He pulled the mirror back toward him. "Do you mind if I keep this?" Given that the stallion was quite possibly currently making up his mind about whether he would kill Twilight, she didn't mind in the least, and she told him so. Satisfied, Silver Shield loaded it onto his back, but then he froze and looked behind Twilight at something she couldn't see. As she tried to turn to figure out what he was looking at, he leaped at her, drawing his sword in midair. He landed on top of her, the blade at her neck. "No movements," he told someone. "Stay back, right now."

Twilight tried to look up from the floor without moving her head. Eight yellow legs. The Fluttershys were getting along quite well. (Which wasn't that surprising.)

"Do as he says," she told them, and they obeyed her, each taking a couple extra steps back, just in case.

"Well, this complicates things," muttered Silver Shield through the sword handle, and Twilight was surprised he could enunciate clearly.

"Who is he, Twilight?" asked one of the Fluttershys. Twilight was too conscious of the sharp metal pressed against her neck to answer.

"We heard a loud noise, and we thought you fell," added the other. "What's going on?"

"Get out of the way," barked Silver Shield. "Get out of my way or I kill your friend."

"Do what he says," repeated Twilight. "Do whatever he says." She figured she didn't even need to tell them. Fluttershy must be scared out of her wits, frightened of the sword and frightened of the stallion who could easily overpower her.

"No."

What?

"Didn't you hear me?" roared Silver Shield. "Get out of my way!"

"And then you'll let her go?" asked one of the Fluttershys.

The other was less amicable. "Do you really think you can just use one of my best friends as a hostage? You really need to rethink some things, mister! I think you're going to let her go right now!"

Twilight really wished she could see more than just hooves.

Silver Shield was furious. "Don't meddle with things that have nothing to do with you. This is greater than any of you and has been a long time coming! Do you know who I am? I'm Silver Shield, Royal Private! My will is the will of Celestia! You will not interfere."

"I don't care who you are!" shouted one of the Fluttershys. But the other one seemed transfixed.

Did you say Silver Shield?"

Now it was Silver's turn to be confused. "You've heard of me?"

There was a rustling sound, which Twilight suspected was one of the Fluttershys digging through her saddlebags. "I have a letter for you."

Twilight officially lost track of what was going on. Silver Shield seemed to have finally run out of words to say. "Zecora gave it to me," explained a Fluttershy. "I had no idea who you were, but she made me promise to deliver it. I really didn't think you would be such a bad guy though."

"Who in blazes is Zecora? Give it to me," said Silver Shield, in a voice that tried to make absolutely clear he was done playing games.

"Let her go." There was absolutely no hesitance or fear in Fluttershy.

Twilight still couldn't see anything. For all she knew, Silver was about to take them all out in a blaze of glory. But after a few seconds of torturous silence, Twilight dropped to the floor. She rolled over and saw Silver taking a plain envelope from Fluttershy, the winged Fluttershy that despite the disparate memories at war in her mind, seemed to be "hers."

This was her chance. Silver was distracted, and the adrenaline rush had come full force, giving her the strength and focus to push past her pain. Twilight knew off the top of her head at least a dozen ways to kill Silver Shield on the spot, and at least as many to incapacitate him, should her two identical friends not approve. Her horn lit up with magical potential, but she felt a gentle hoof on her shoulder, and when she turned to look the wingless Fluttershy was shaking her head, her eyes warm and gentle but still condemning. The magic on her horn sputtered and died.

Silver opened the letter and read it in silence. When he finished, he glared at Twilight. "This isn't over," he warned her. "When I come back, we're going to finish this."

"You are not going to touch Twilight ever again," insisted Fluttershy.

"I wouldn't dream of it. After all, we need each other now. She needs me to not kill her. And I need her to take me to the other side. Stone Wall had the right idea. An escape, a get out of Nightmare free card, who wouldn't want it? And if this world is real, then I want it too. And for your sakes, you're going to help me." He back stepped toward the door, and they let him. Once he was a silhouette in the door-frame, he turned and vanished into the eternal night.

The relief of safety was bliss to Twilight. But as she became aware of the Fluttershys watching her with some mix of concern and pity, she found the strength to stand.

Both Fluttershys grinned and produced an adorable squeaking sound. They bumped their hooves together, celebrating their success. Their enthusiasm rubbed off on Twilight, who felt her strength return and the headache ebb, if only slightly.

Twilight felt humbled in front of her rescuers. "You were right, Fluttershy. I'm not your Twilight. But I'm not this world's Twilight either. I'm something new, I guess, a clean slate. But I want to prove to you that I'm everything your Twilight was and more, that new memories can only make me stronger. And that means no more lying around letting you fight my fight. I got us into this. I broke into your world and dragged you into my problems. But no more. It's time for me to take charge of my own destiny."

The house shook from the shockwaves of an explosion outside. Twilight braced herself and managed to not fall over.

The two Fluttershys skitted nervously, exchanging their various "Oh my"s.

"Come on, girls. Let's go." Refreshed and renewed, Twilight galloped off.

The winged Fluttershy watched her charge into the fray, and she smiled softly. This was the Twilight she remembered.

Twilight met Pinkie first. She had to bank to avoid the bouncing ball of pink, and she still clipped her, sending the pair tumbling.

Pinkie gasped, her face filling with unbridled joy, and she hugged her tightly. "You're alive!" she shouted. "Twilight's alive!"

"You already knew that, Pinkie! We planned this together!"

"I know that, silly. But this way I get to be super duper happy every time I see you!"

Twilight muttered something incomprehensible and pushed Pinkie off of her. "What happened? There was a bang, and some shaking and..." Twilight followed Pinkie's pointing hoof to the burning building. Silhouetted by the wavering flames, two ponies were exchanging blows. One of them glowed a dull pink in the firelight.

"That's me!" shouted Pinkie. "I always wanted to meet other me!" She stopped when her twin saw her and snarled. "I don't like other me. She's scary."

Trixie could hear the cries and the explosions. Something was happening, far away from her. Her captors were distracted.

But it didn’t matter. Without her magic there wasn't anything she could do. She had always prided herself on her magic, but without it, she was useless.

A glint of green and purple slipped through the crack under the door, expanding back to about pony height. Spike grabbed the ropes binding Trixie with one clawed hand and sliced through them with the other.

"Come on," he told her. "We're getting out of here before they come back."

Trixie didn’t move. "You betrayed me," she murmured.

Spike staggered backwards. "Oh, no," he said. "Not you. Never you."

"We had them and you sold me out to the enemy! You said you would always have my back, and you betrayed me!"

Spike motioned with his hands for her to quiet down. "I didn't betray you," he told her. "Do you remember, when this all started? You were afraid you were losing yourself to her orders, to her voices, to that thing she makes you wear around your neck. And you made me promise that no matter what, I wouldn't let her kill your spirit.” His voice softened as regret crept in. “I couldn't keep that promise. But you also made me promise to remember the pony you used to be. So brave and selfless. And how could I ever forget? You were a hero once, remember?"

Trixie shook her head, trying to blink away the tears. Thinking too hard about before was never worth it. It reminded her that she was supposed to hate Nightmare. "I don't remember," she said. She grabbed his shoulders and buried her head between them. "I want things to be level again. I want them to be easy."

"The things worth fighting for are never easy." He held her as long as he dared, but the clock was running out. He focused and let a calmness surround them. He breathed in, and then exhaled a green flame that wreathed them. Trixie felt it cover her, but it didn't hurt.

"We're going back to the castle?" she asked as the fire ate them away to nearly nothing.

"No. We're not going back there ever again."

The fire was back in Trixie's eyes. "Traitor!"

"We're going someplace where Nightmare won't find us. We're done."

The flames swallowed them, then turned in and consumed themselves. Nothing remained but a thin layer of ash on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Pinkie's voice was squeaky and weak, as if some pony had let all the air out of a balloon.

Pinkamena drove her hoof into Applejack's gut, winding her. "Avenging my daughter. Any questions?"

Pinkie shook. Her own body and face was attacking Applejack, and even if Pinkie tried to kid herself, she could imagine all too easily that she was the one doing it, or wasn't she? This didn't seem like something any version of her might do, but there she was. "But why?" she asked.

"Why am I avenging the only pony who ever mattered to me, who was slaughtered by this discussing cretin? Or why are you talking instead of trying to help? You must not care that badly about this, one way or the other."

“But she's our friend!"

Her flat-haired counterpart turned, dragging Applejack on the ground like a life-sized rag-doll. "Of course she's your friend. Who isn't your friend? Is there any pony disgusting enough that even you won't sing praise to their tiniest glimmer of compassion?"

Pinkie took several steps back, but it failed to calm her. "You're me. What happened to you?"

"I grew up and learned to face my problems like a full-grown mare. But you wouldn't know what that's like. Twilight told me all about Pinkie the immature, Pinkie the blissfully ignorant, who doesn't understand that real ponies face consequences for their decisions and have grown up problems and things worth caring about enough to not just shut them out and pretend they don't exist. I mean, Gods, I barely understand how you do it. You're me. We have the same scars. So why did I survive them when you... what the hell are you, really?" Pinkamena drew the knife, this time pointing it at her twin. "Is this your coping mechanism or something? By acting like a child? Does this earn you sympathy from your friends for not being able to take care of yourself? Or are you just dumb?"

Pinkie winced and drew back with each accusation. Her eyes watered, and Pinkamena groaned.

“She’s not dumb, now drop the knife," said Twilight. She wasn't sure if her magic was back up to snuff yet or not, but she could still probably disarm her.

Pinkamena pouted. "Come on, Twilight. Don't I deserve to get to know how I could have turned out? Doesn't she deserve it?" Her gait was lopsided, off balance. She teetered around Pinkie, seeing her from every angle. "I read somewhere that when you die you get to meet the pony you could have been." She even sniffed her twin, for good measure. "I'm not impressed."

"Hey! Where do you get off saying things like that about me... you... myself?" Pinkie tried to act angry, but her voice wavered.

Twilight tried to pull the knife out of Pinkamena's grasp with her magic, but she tightened her grip and held on, glaring at the intruder and hissing.

"I told Twilight you sounded happy,” said Pinkamena. “But I didn't know what I was talking about. You're all hollow inside."

"You just met me!" cried Pinkie.

"And that's all I need. Look at you. You're just happy to be alive, to have ponies who won't say things you don't want to hear. You don't know what it's like to hurt. You never lost true love because you've never had it to begin with. You never had Pumpkin, did you?”

"Who?"

"See? You have no business telling me what to do with my life. Without her I'd be like you, nothing. And I'm never going to see her again, and you can't even understand what that's like."

Pinkie could feel her bitterness and anguish and sorrow, and it brought her to her knees. "I do..." she said, choking back something in her throat. “I promise I do…”

Pinkamena kicked Pinkie in the jaw, and she toppled over. Twilight rushed to her aid, and Pinkamena turned back to Applejack, who was once again standing.

Pinkamena, in her dirty coat and long clumpy mane, screamed a guttural, unintelligible cry of rage. She lunged, but Applejack leaped out of harm’s way, landing awkwardly on her hooves and stumbling. Pinkamena was quick on the rebound, charging at the still-recovering farmpony. Applejack battered away the swinging hoof as it came, managing to get up on her hooves again while Pinkamena got her balance back. Applejack was holding her own, but each dodge, parry, or counterattack was slower, less coordinated than the one before it, while Pinkamena was driven into a greater frenzy.

Applejack rushed the ghostly mirror image of her friend, swinging a right hook at the hoof with the knife. Instead, Pinkamena sidestepped the attack and tripped her, and Applejack tumbled.

"No more," commanded Pinkamena as she brought the knife to bear.

Spitfire crawled out of the shadows toward the dueling mares. Maybe bringing Apple Bloom out of the fire wasn't enough for her peace and redemption. She would just have to keep trying.

She remembered she used to be strong. She was a leader and a commander, because she could take it. Flying through a lightning storm was simple. The judging gaze of a crowd of thousands? The lived for that, or she used to. When did she become so tired? Was the old her just gone, leaving a weak and fragile shell to fend for herself? She used to be a symbol. Now she was a mare.

The years of the Nightmare had worn her down, ground her into dust. She'd allowed herself to become a spineless puppet. She wasn't going to deny responsibility for what she’d done. But she was not evil. Broken, callous, and destructive, but not evil. And this was her chnce to prove it.

The ground was torn out from beneath Pinkamena's feet she could land her killing blow. She twisted about, trying to figure out where the earth had gone. Spitfire adjusted her grip on the earth pony and flew up, leaving a bewildered Applejack behind.

They were beginning to attract a crowd. From her new vantage point, she saw both Fluttershys racing toward the commotion. And behind them, Twilight Sparkle limped in close pursuit. But they were stories above the buildings now, safely out of reach but far from safe.

Pinkamena struggled against the grip, the knife coming dangerously close to Spitfire. "Coward, cretin, murderer," the pink mare began rattling off a list of swears.

"Don't threaten me where you can't stand."

Pinkamena refused to crack. "What are you going to do to me?"

"Drop the knife. Drop it or I drop you."

She rushed to Applejack's side, ignoring the pounding in her head. This was what happened when she wasn't keeping tabs on everything. Lying in bed because of a headache wasn't helping anyone. "What happened?" She tried to stay calm while she asked, but she was breathing far too quickly for that.

"Apple Bloom. Is she okay?" said Applejack.

"Your sister's here?" She looked across the street and saw the twin yellow pegasi tending to her and Spitfire. "She's fine Applejack. She's going to be fine, and so are you. What happened?" Applejack weakly raised a hoof and pointed up in the sky.

Above the commotion, Pinkamena remained passive as ever.

"I said, drop the knife," ordered Spitfire.

"So you can kill me like you killed my daughter?" Pinkamena drew a little bit of satisfaction when she saw Spitfire wince.

"I never should have harmed your daughter. I made a mistake." Spitfire knew there was no way to convince her she meant it.

"Yes," agreed Pinkamena. "Yes you did." And she drove the knife into Spitfire's side, pushing the blade through her wing and twisting it into her side.

For a moment Spitfire hung, defying gravity, as she watched her own blood run down the knife.

And then the pair fell. Twilight watched them plummet back to earth. She wanted to mute out the sound of the impact, but she felt it move through her like a shockwave. She could see the knife sticking up in the air like a flag.

The knife wavered as Twilight's vision blurred, everything becoming awash in a sea of light. Her breathing steadied as a cold and calculated anger came over her.

Light streamed from her horn, shooting off in sparks and spiraling wisps. Twilight walked slowly, stopping in front of the broken pair of bodies. A glowing mist descended on all of them, so bright that Applejack had to close her eyes. When she was able to look back, Appleloosa was gone.

Twilight had never felt so angry before. She landed near the edge of the Everfree Forest where Rarity and Pinkamena had set up two small gravestones. How she knew where this was, she had no idea. Applejack had told her about it, but it was instinct of some unknowable nature that brought her here. She placed Spitfire and Pinkamena beside them, and at her will the ground liquefied and consumed them. Pinkamena deserved to be with her daughter, at least.

Someone, somewhere, was going to pay for this. Somepony had to be responsible. Twilight had half a mind to take the battle to Nightmare Moon's front door. Forget the alternate selves. Forget the Elements of Harmony. She didn't know why she'd been going along with that plan to begin with. This was time for a good old fashioned one on one fight. Wasn't that how epic wars were supposed to end?

She levitated off the ground, preparing to chart her way to Canterlot. She wouldn't teleport. No, she didn't want Nightmare Moon to be surprised when she arrived. She wanted to create a trail of destruction that would give that monster just enough time to wet herself in terror before she arrived to finish her. But her warpath was interrupted before it began by the unicorn that was floating in front of her, blocking her path. Violet coat. Flowing mane. Hooded cloak. Twilight recognized her, but this was the first time they had met physically.

Nightmare Moon wasn't the only one responsible for this suffering. Stargazer had her hand in it as well.

"You!" screamed Twilight. She accelerated herself into the other pony and knocked them both to the ground, where she pinned her to the ground. "Why did you do this?"

She had trouble reading Stargazer's blank expression. Remorseful? Wearied? Twilight would have to push harder. "You told Pinkie 'The sunlight can reach where the sun cannot?' Those words gave the other me the idea to fly to the poles in search of Celestia. Those words killed her! Those words ruined everything!"

Stargazer refused to make eye contact. "It wasn't supposed to happen this way," she muttered. "She wasn't supposed to die like that."

"What were they supposed to mean?" demanded Twilight, lifting the older mare with her magic. "What did the other me throw her life away for?" She didn't hear an answer, so she shook the other mare. "Well?"

"I don't know!" squealed Stargazer. Twilight nearly dropped her.

"What?"

"I see things. Futures. And I knew that if I told her those things, everything would work out."

Twilight threw her to the floor. "Does this look like working out to you? You killed everyone! We can't even ask the other world's Celestia for help because we don't have Rainbow Dash. This is not working out."

"I don't know what went wrong," moaned Stargazer. "This wasn't supposed to happen. You have to trust me!"

"Trust you? Give me one good reason why I should trust you." Twilight felt like she was going to explode. She could feel the magic sparking at the end of her horn again.

Stargazer raised her hooves to cover her face. “My cutie mark,” she said. “Look at my cutie mark. Then you'll see."

Twilight lifted the cloak off of Stargazer, who squirmed but didn't protest. The first thing she noticed was the wings. Large pegasus wings had been tucked beneath the cloak. "You're an alicorn," Twilight breathed.

Stargazer nodded. "My cutie mark," she said. "Look it at. Look at it and you'll know I'm telling the truth."

Twilight yanked on the alicorn with her magic, bringing her around so that her cutie mark was fully visible. And she froze. It was impossible. It had to be a trick. She thought back, trying to remember if she'd seen that cutie mark anywhere else before. But here it was. The six pointed star and the five stars circling it stared back at her.

"Now you have to trust me, Twilight Sparkle," repeated the mare whose name was definitely not Stargazer. "You have to trust me because I'm you."

Author's Note

Please see this blog post:

http://www.fimfiction.net/blog/340962/the-end

Everything Changes

Apples.

Apples and cabbages and sweet potatoes and corn. The crate in Pumpkin Custard's shed was filled with food, but it wasn't the meager shriveled product of most of their farming. Instead, Rarity was staring at the cream of the literal crop, the small fraction of their food that grew to be virtually unblemished.

“Why in Equestria is this in your shed?” she asked the stallion. “You better have a really good explanation for this.”

Custard didn't answer. He knew better than to lie; no fake excuse could possibly be plausible enough to convince Rarity. But remaining silent for just a second was preferable to speaking up and incurring her wrath. And then, when the next second came, he made the same decision. He didn't speak until Rarity asked again, her harsher tone finally forcing his hand. He accepted that there was no way out.

“Where did all this food come from?” Rarity asked for the final time.

“Your sister-in-law.”

The connections were slowly coming together for Rarity. She knew there had been something off in the bookkeeping; they always seemed to have more food than predicted. Now she was beginning to understand why, but knowing where the food came from didn't explain the how. Or why.

“Explain,” she ordered. “Now.”

Custard sighed. He felt so demeaned, having to submit to a mare that was barely even his family. “She came to me a month after you had the falling-out with her. She had a proposition; she was willing to give us all the food we weren't able to grow anymore free of charge, to make sure we didn't starve. We were her family, after all. But she had two conditions. In exchange for the food, I had to keep her informed 'bout the state of things here on the farm. She wanted to know what was happening to all of us, particularly her brother and sister. Wanted to make sure the family was safe.”

Rarity spent the entire spiel fuming, wanting to call Custard out on the ridiculousness of the story. “Orange wouldn't help us, not unless she has something to gain. If this is really just a benevolent act of kindness, why the secrecy? Why didn't you just tell us?”

“Because she knows you. We all do. That was the second condition, that we do this without running it by you. Big Mac knew, he helped, but you were off limits. We know you'd never trust her after what happened. Your pride wouldn't let you, because that would mean admitting she succeeded where you failed. If she'd openly offered to help, you'd never accept it, even when the lives of other ponies are on the line. I know some ponies describe you as generous, but that's not quite accurate, is it? You're always about being the better mare, no matter what. You have to wield the moral right, even if it means suffering for everypony close to you.”

Somehow, the accusation triggered something in Rarity, something beyond simple outrage or offense. Baseless insults had no reason to sting, so why was she so bothered, Rarity wondered. “How dare you!” she cried. “How dare you imply I've done anything less than work to protect my new family. How dare you portray me as some sort of saboteur!”

“You're more than that, Rarity,” snarled Custard, and he chuckled, feeling liberated. “You're a lot more than just a snake, a sly little parasite that sneaks her way into our family and cannibalizes it. I see what you really are. You, miss Rarity, are a whore. You're a seducer that sets herself up as a queen who deserves our respect. But I won't buy it.”

Rarity paled, but Custard refused to stop.

“You make your sister-in-law out like some sort of monster who pulls the strings to get what she wants. But do you really have a right to accuse her when she resorts to subterfuge? She doesn't have any other options, not since you took over by grabbing Big Macintosh by the sack and screwed your way into authority. And she's been keeping you alive all this while, and she can't take the credit because you'd sooner die than owe her thanks. Maybe you should face, Rarity, that the only reason you have anything is because you're a prideful pig and an easy lay. Big Macintosh has sold our farm out in exchange for a quality slice of-”

Speaking can often be difficult after being kicked in the face by an angry mare. Custard, knocked back the the blow, collapsed and crumpled onto the ground, dominated by an enraged Rarity. “Say what you want about me,” she hissed. “But do not bring Macintosh's judgment into this.”

“Enough!” The two feuding ponies turned to a desperate and furious Pinkamena, who was instinctively holding Scootaloo and Apple Bloom protectively. “I don't know what your problems are, and I don't care. But before you speak another word to each other, we are going to find my daughter. Once she's safe, you can call each other whores and traitors all you like. But not until the safety of this family is ensured. Do you understand?”

The sudden ferocity was unexpected from her and was enough to cause Rarity and Custard to untangle and upright themselves. Rarity had never noticed before how intimidating Pinkamena could be.

“You're quite right, darling,” apologized Rarity, and she heard Custard give a “fine.”

“Gestures of apology and forgiveness can wait too. No more delays,” said Pinkamena succinctly before marching into the woods. Rarity and Custard followed in pursuit.

For once, the Cutie Mark Crusaders were too shaken to go adventuring.

Sweetie Belle wanted to scream as soon as she hit the water. There were a number of other things that she wanted too, of course, but “wanted” assumed she had a choice in the matter. And given the choice, Sweetie Belle would choose to be with her friends and family on the farm, far away from this nightmare. But she did not have much of a say in the matter. No matter how much she wanted, she knew she was not safe, and she knew she was unable to scream.

The temperature of the water seemed to stab at every joint in her body, forcing them in a rigid position. She gasped, a sharp intake of what she wanted to be air. But again, she didn't have a say in the matter and breathed in water instead.

She thought she was kicking and splashing, slowly struggling to the surface, but she wasn't sure. Maybe she still couldn't move and was just hoping she would float. Her body felt distant now, and out of her control. She broke the surface, and somehow, miraculously, managed to grab onto a log sticking out of the ground. She thought she felt something rub against her hoof, but she wasn't sure.

“Sorry,” she heard the mare named Spitfire tell her, and even she seemed to mean it. “This is the compromise.” Sweetie Belle tried to look up and find her attacker, but she saw nothing.

“This isn't right,” came the voice of Soarin, so far away. But he lacked the same level of defiance he had held when they had first met, as if he had accepted that his protest would accomplish nothing.

“I know.” Spitfire seemed even further away than before. “Right stopped being a priority a long time ago, and you're the only one who still seems to care. You don't want to kill them, but you don't have to save them, either. I can't face what's right, Soarin, so I do what's easy.”

“That doesn't make this right, Spitfire.”

“Then don't just stand there and complain. Stop me.”

Silence.

“I thought so. We're not so different after all.”

Sweetie Belle struggled to focus on something, anything, through the cold. At least it still hurt. She remembered reading about ponies feeling warm when they got hypothermia. Focus on the cold, she told herself. Let it keep you awake.

She forced her eyes to focus and noticed Pumpkin next to her for the first time. The younger filly wasn't moving and was only still holding onto the log because she had no other choice; a pair of handcuffs was connected to a forehoof on each filly, and the chain between them was wrapped around the log. Sweetie Belle briefly considered trying to detach them from the log, but she realized that even if she succeeded, Pumpkin's weight would pull her under.

“Please,” she begged her captors. “Let us go. We won't tell anyone.” She wasn't even sure if they could hear her. Her breath was beyond her control, coming in quick and rapid gasps. She tried to scream, desperate for anypony, but nothing came out.

Slowly, her situation began to dawn on her.

They were going to die.

She heard shouts from above. Somepony was calling her name.

“Over here!” she tried to call out, but she wasn't even certain if the words even left her lips. She was tired now. The cold didn't bother her anymore. Maybe if she just stopped struggling...

“Pumpkin! Pumpkin Alyssa Pie!”

“Sweetie Belle! Oh, sister, where are you?”

The sound of her name stirred something, and Sweetie Belle found herself shouting, as loudly as she could manage. Please, she thought, let them hear. Let them come.

But maybe it would be better if they didn't. Maybe it was too late to save them. It seemed better to pass silently then force her family to watch them die.

Rarity telekinetically held the bottle of champagne above her head like a beacon, waving it back and forth to gain the attention of the other ponies in the room. When her movements didn't produce any reaction, she gave up and picked up a spoon, striking it against the bottle lightly. The various conversations quieted down, and Rarity took the stage.

“I know we're all busy and anxious with what is undoubtedly a serious matter, but I think we all need to take a step back for a moment and look at what we've accomplished, and what's still in front of us. When this ship finally lifts into the sky, which it will, tonight, it will be manned by it specially trained crew, and by my good friends Twilight Sparkle and, erm, well, Twilight Sparkle, who will be putting to the test a spell that could revolutionize our world. Our good friend Fluttershy will be assisting, in the off chance an additional set of wings is required.”

“Revolutionize our world.” The phrasing for their alibi had been Rarity's idea. No matter how much Madame Orange insisted her crew could be trusted, Rarity knew they couldn't risk an information leak. The Mooncatcher, due to its unique nature, was certainly going to attract attention. The ponies were about to commit treason against Nightmare Moon in the most populated city in Equestria; the fewer ponies who knew their intentions, the better they could feign innocence if anypony asked.

And technically, their excuse wasn't a lie. Revolutionize, indeed.

How they were going to explain the second Twilight Sparkle, Rarity had no idea. But amazingly, none of the crew members of the ship had asked. They held themselves professionally, and that included not asking questions that probably had stupidly obvious answers.

“I, unfortunately, will not be making this journey with you,” continued Rarity, “as I will be helping our Madame Orange locate an important contact of hers.” In fact, Orange had been rather insistent about that fact. In their time together, the entrepreneurial earth pony had really started to open up, and had insisted that the two of them stick together when the groups were assigned. “Rainbow Dash will be assisting us as well, due to her connection with the contact in question. And Pinkie Pie will be providing moral support, as is her tendency to do so.

“So may you all have a safe voyage. We're all going to do our best to make this world a better place, and I hope you will too.” She looked over at her friends, enjoying their last meal before they split up for their respective missions. Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie were already eagerly digging into their food, and the Twilights were going over their notes one last time, double checking the hastily-thrown together spell to tap into the aurora. Rarity tried to spot the last pony of the group, but she didn't appear to be anywhere. Perhaps there was one more announcement to make.

“Has anypony seen Fluttershy?”

Fluttershy sat on her bed in the ship's barracks, focusing intently on the sounds the airship was making. Ever since she had first boarded the Mooncatcher, she had been overwhelmed by the noise that came with keeping it aloft. But now that she had time to herself, she was able to pick apart the different sounds, and it occurred to her how much the airship almost seemed like a living creature, personified. Fluttershy imagined the soft whines of the engine represented the ship's eagerness to leave the earth behind. The fans, rotating slowly, were the ship's even breath. And when she really listened, she swore she could make out the ship's heartbeat.

She jumped when she heard the knock on the door.

“Fluttershy?” asked Rainbow Dash from behind the door. “You in there? There's a party going on, and you probably don't want to miss it. Pinkie Pie just finished gathering the dice and the butter squash, and, well, you remember what happened last time we did that.”

“I'm fine,” answered Fluttershy. “I don't want to make a disruption or anything, so I'll just stay here, if that's okay.”

“Yeah, it's 'okay', I suppose,” said Rainbow Dash, opening the door. “Would it be 'okay' if I stayed here for a little while? I'm kind of burned out.” When Fluttershy nodded, she sat on the bed next to her friend.

“You still freaking out?” asked Rainbow Dash. “It's a lot to take in, and just when you think you're done, there's more. Can I ask you something, though? Why did you choose to go on the ship? You hate heights.”

Fluttershy laughed weakly. “I know,” she explained. “And I'm worried about every little thing that could go wrong. But then I realize that all those things would still go wrong without me, and then Twilight wouldn't have a friend that can fly to help her out. I need to face my fears and be there for her.”

Rainbow Dash laughed. “Which Twilight are we talking about here?”

Fluttershy blanched, not expecting the prompting. “What kind of question is that?” she asked nervously.

“An honest one. Are you doing this for our Twilight, or the dark and mysterious one?” Rainbow smirked suggestively, and Fluttershy did her best to hide the blush.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” she stammered.

“Sure you don't, Fluttershy,” joked Rainbow Dash , laughing again. “Sure you don't.”

Staring at the map of Equestria Madame Orange had pulled up from the library, Rarity began to realize just how daunting the task in front of them was. The Mooncatcher had now launched, and was on its way to the north pole, leaving the remaining ponies to focus on their own task. "Well," she said, "I never realized Equestria was so big! How are we expecting to find a single pony in the haystack of a country? She could be anywhere."

"No, just six feet under," muttered Rainbow Dash. "I'm telling you she's dead. I trust Gilda."

"Even when she was trying to kill you?” Orange grinned cheekily. “Why, Rainbow Dash, that's quite the display of loyalty if I've ever seen one. But even if Gilda was right, it won't do us any good to just take her word for it. Confirming the fate of your other self will be an important requisite for any of our future plans.”

“But she still won't be just anywhere!” interjected Pinkie Pie. “She's going to be in the last place we look, so we can rule out all the other places we would look first.”

“Pinkie Pie is right, in a sense,” added Madame Orange. “Especially if Rainbow here is willing to help us pick up the trail. Where were you ten years ago? Las Pegasus? New Whinny?”

“Cloudsdale, actually.”

Madame removed a coin from her purse and placed it on Cloudsdale on the map. “Then I suppose that's as good a place to start as any. Do your parents still live there?”

Rarity, concerned, raised a hoof. “Forgive me,” she said, “but wouldn't it seem to be a little poor in taste, should we show up at Rainbow's parents doorstep and ask them how their daughter died? Particularly when said daughter is with us? Ponies leave traces. It's impossible not to. We just need to be a bit more discreet with our search.”

“Criminal records, perhaps?” asked Orange, resisting a smirk.

“How about schooling?” Rainbow suggested instead.

“Or instead of just grasping at straws, you could actually lend your past experience being you and tell us your life story.”

And so she did. Every time that she mentioned a place where she lived, worked, or traveled, Orange put another coin on the map, slowly forming a constellation of search locations. When Rainbow's tale was done, the earth mare drew a line across the map, connecting the dots. “It looks like Trotston's the closest,” she commented. “You got your degree in Weather Systems there?”

“How are the rest of us going to get there?” Rarity asked. “The cities are made of clouds; we'd fall straight through.”

“There are spells to fix that, you know.” Orange didn't even have to think about the problem; Rarity felt that the other mare had already worked this solution out.

“So we're going to hire a unicorn to cast these spells on us?”

“Nope. You are.”

“What?” managed a flustered Rarity. “I can't do that! My magic is horrendous.”

She felt Orange rub her head against her neck. “I believe you can pull it off.”

With the meeting concluded, Pinkie Pie left for dinner. Before Rarity could exit, however, she was stopped by Madame Orange.

“Rarity, we need to talk.”

Rarity hesitated, sensing the seriousness in Orange's voice. “Is there a problem?”

“No, not now. Maybe not for a while. But eventually. And I didn't get where I am today without a knack for long-term planning. What's going to happen when this is all over, assuming we win? And I am going to assume that we win, because there's no point in worrying about everything that could go wrong, and if things do go wrong, then well we won't have much time to worry, now will we?”

Rarity noticed that Orange was rambling, a bizarre contrast to her usual well-composed self. Rarity wondered what could possibly unnerve the usually calm mare. “After we win? The others and I would return home, I presume, as soon as we know Equestria is safe.”

Orange sighed. “Precisely. And that's a problem, because you're the only pony I've met in Manehattan that doesn't look up to me.”

Rarity wasn't sure how to properly respond to that remark. “Sorry?”

“Oh, no, don't apologize. It's refreshing. Delightfully so, because you don't see me with disdain, either. We're equals, in a way. And you're refined. Cultured. You can hold an intelligent conversation. The two of us share mutual respect.”

Rarity wasn't sure where Orange was trying to take this. “What about your Twilight?” she asked. “She respects you. She actually seems a bit smitten with you, if you don't mind me saying.”

Orange groaned, almost painfully. “We don't always see eye to eye. Twilight's a nice girl, don't get me wrong. A little too nice, and a bit stubborn at times. Not to mention the entire 'reverence' angle isn't exactly appreciated. I don't want to be put on a pedestal, Rarity. I want to be a pony, in all her flaws.” She closed the distance between them, placing her hooves on Rarity's. “You help me become that. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”

At first, Rarity was too frightened to respond. “Are you...” she finally began, but she was interrupted by one of the hired guards entering the room, out of breath. He was wild, and he looked as if he had just finished a run.

“Sorry,” Orange told Rarity, and she turned to her employee. “What is it? Speak up.”

The guard wheezed, but his breath eventually settled enough for him to speak. “We lost contact, Ma'am.”

“What?”

“The Mooncatcher. Their Columbus device stopped transmitting unexpectedly. We attempted to contact them, both with magical and nonmagical means. They aren't responding. I don't know what happened, but I worry the ship may have been damaged.”

“The ship?” cried Rarity, horrified. “What about the crew? What about Twilight? And Fluttershy?”

The guard didn't respond, looking toward Orange for direction.

“Oh, calm yourselves,” Orange finally said. “We don't know what happened, so either assume the best and stay hopeful, or assume the worst and trust your friends to make as good as they can of whatever situation may have befallen them. I've supervised that crew personally, and I'd trust them to the ends of the earth. Whatever happened, they can manage.”

This did nothing to lift the guard's spirits. “What would you like me to do, then?” he asked. “What should I tell the others?”

“Tell them to be bold. Your crewmates and my partners are a bunch of tenacious folk. Don't jump to conclusions. And most importantly, don't blame yourselves for whatever happens. You hear me?” The guard nodded and trotted out of the room, jerkily and uncertainly.

Rarity was barely able to hold in her panic until the guard was gone, at which point her breath collapsed into a combination of quick intakes and short bursts of speech.

“Twilight. And Fluttershy. What did? What can? How?” She was stopped by Orange placing a hoof on her shoulder and smiling. “Have faith in our friends,” she reiterated. “I believe in them.”

Twilight's ears were still ringing from the blow when she heard an even worse sound, the terrifying cries of a trained expert panicking. Her previous encounters with the crew of the Mooncatcher, while brief, had imparted a sense of professionalism. These were mares and stallions Twilight had been convinced could handle anything, and this only made the screams more unnerving.

“The engine room is on fire!”

Well, crap.

She had been playing chess with Moonlight (who, intentionally or not, had been mirroring her every move) when the first explosion had rocked the ship and sent them both tumbling into a line of cabinets. Now, recovering from the collision, her thoughts turned to Fluttershy.

The pegasus was probably in her bedroom when the trouble started. She hadn't left at all, preferring to stay away from the hubbub of the crew in the front of the ship and the dizzying views available from the rear. Really, Twilight wondered why the pegasus had bothered to come at all.

She tried to stand and walk, only succeeding in staggering toward the door, and then away from it as the ship swerved and gravity shifted. At her side, her counterpart had similar trouble getting her bearings.

Another explosion shook through them, although it was felt much more than heard. Twilight instinctively raised a magical shield to soften the blow as she was thrown into the air and then unceremoniously dropped. She watched as the floor rushed toward her but slowed and stilled as the cushion of enchanted air reduced what likely could have been a severely damaging blow into something merely painfully abrupt.

She paused for a breather, and in that time she found inspiration. Focusing her magic, a thin shell of violet glow formed around her, lifting her slightly off the ground. The ship continued to shake, but no longer connected to the floor, Twilight felt none of it. Moonlight, seeing the technique, followed suit.

Although the strain Twilight felt from the magical exersion was enormous, she pushed onward, levitating her body across the room, through the door, and into the hallway. Candles shook in their fixtures, threatening to start another fire. A panicked mare ran past her, shoving her, but she pressed forward. Fluttershy was what was important.

The Twilights found the pegasus in her room, backed against the wall. Fluttershy, overcome, could only breath rapidly, her eyes darting around but not seeming to settle on anything. Twilight called her name, and she looked up, her eyes focusing.

And then the world lit up, blazed into a million points of heat and light, and faded away into nothing. Within minutes, the smoldering wreckage of the S. S. Mooncatcher sank beneath the ocean.

“Hush,” Rarity ordered the other ponies. The others stopped their trotting, the sound of their hoofbeats surrendering to the natural sounds of the forest. Birds chirping, water running, and... conversation?

Rarity put a hoof to her lips, gesturing for silence. She then began moving painstakingly slowly off the path, in the direction of the noise. Taking the utmost caution to avoid stepping on any dry branches, she made her way through beneath the trees, the voices gradually becoming clear.

“Let's get out of here,” said a voice that, while slightly effeminate, was definitely male. “I can't believe I'm saying this, but let's just get out of here and not stop flying.”

“Not a chance,” said the second voice which, while slightly masculine, was clearly female. “We return to our post and wait for whoever sent them here to show up.”

“And then we kill them too? This isn't going to end, is it? You said before that you didn't understand how I manage to keep smiling. I don't understand how you're able to always be so grim. It's like we're just caricatures of our real selves. You're the orderly, and I'm the happy-go-lucky, but we're not ponies anymore.”

Rarity could see them now, a pair of pegasi dressed in the black uniforms of the Shadowbolts. They were standing by a river which ran quickly and dangerously. In the middle of the river, two more figures struggled weakly while being battered abouts by the rough currents.

The uniformed mare gave her partner a disapproving glance and took to the skies. The stallion prepared to follow her.

Rarity had sworn to only use magic for emergencies, but if anything qualified, it was this.

Soarin flexed his wings and pushed off. Rarity focused on him, prepared to try and keep him on the ground. Instead, she lost her focus when she was abruptly shoved aside by Pinkamena, who pushed past her and launched herself into the air. She gained on the pegasus rapidly, colliding with him in the air and knocking him down. The two landed dangerously close to the edge of the river.

Custard burst out from the trees behind her and hurried into the water. He was immediately struck by how cold it was. He was already struggling to move, and Sweetie Belle and Pumpkin, with their smaller body masses, would have succumbed even more quickly.

“They're handcuffed,” he shouted over the sound of the water. “Don't know where these bastards got cuffs, but they won't come off.”

“Where's the key?” Pinkamena snarled at Soarin. Rarity, thrown by the sudden shift in behavior, took a cautious step back. Pinkamena repeated her question, pairing it with a smack across Soarin's face. “How do I free them?”

Soarin looked at the pink mare almost apologetically. “I don't have it,” he told her. “Spitfire does.”

She laughed. “Really?” she asked. “I don't believe you.” She pinned Soarin beneath her, although he didn't seem to be offering any resistance. “Where's the key?” she repeated, this time lifting up Soarin's head and slamming it against the ground. From her position, Rarity could see the blood on the ground from the impact.

“Pinkie, stop!” screamed Rarity, horrified. “He doesn't have it!”

When Pinkamena turned to address Rarity, the unicorn saw the crazed look in her friend's eyes, almost feral. She felt more frightened than ever before in her life. “We don't know that,” barked Pinkamena. “So don't interfere. This stallion here is about to tell me how to free my daughter.”

Rarity swore she saw Soarin crack a grin. “And if I don't?” he muttered weakly.

“I don't think you understood me. That was not an order. It was a statement of fact. When I'm done with you, you will tell me how to free my daughter.”

Madame Orange returned to her study, not sure what to make of the day's events. The only clear conclusion was that she needed a strong drink.

After making sure to tell one of the guards that she was under no circumstances to be disturbed, she locked the door behind her and collapsed into her desk chair. Keeping up appearances really could be tiring.

The room was furnished with paintings and pottery, the details and history of which Orange didn't have the faintest clue. The only decoration she actually cared about was her collection of drinks in bottles along the wall. Orange whiskey cocktails, hard orangeade, orange scotch, even an orange soda for when she was hung over and couldn't stand the thought of drinking more. She was probably going to be needing that tomorrow. Instead of reaching for any of the drinks on the shelf, however, she opened the bottom drawer on her desk and removed the two items contained within.

The first was a bottle of cider from Sweet Apple Acres. No matter how much she drank, she never seemed to get sick of it. There was no such thing as too much, not when it was made with the level of commitment and high standards from the farm.

The farm that Orange knew she would never be able to return to. Pushing the cider away for the moment, she examined the other item she had removed from the drawer, a modified Columbus device. While it retained the disc-like shape of the other devices, the bulge in the center had been replaced by a customized spell matrix, a circle of etched runes with a small glowing bundle of magical energy in the center. Theoretically untraceable. And if her own employees hadn't picked up on its existence, it probably was.

She didn't have to wait long after its activation for the air in the room to light up with a painful magenta glare. The light condensed into balls, which clumped together into a vaguely pony-like shape. The result shimmered before exploding, a mare filling the hole left behind.

“Hello Applejack,” scorned the Great and Powerful Trixie.

Madame Orange snarled instinctively. Trixie's sheer level of contempt could get under her skin effortlessly. “Don't call me that,” she said angrily. “That's not my name anymore. I left that life behind me.”

Trixie exaggerated a pout. “Aww, how cute,” she teased. “But we all know that's not true at all. We mean, giving them food in exchange for tales from the farm? Very adorable.”

The hairs on Orange's neck only raised further, and she seethed.

“Oh, don't get mad at me,” said Trixie, brimming with feigned innocence. “We're not the one who alienated you; you did that all on your own. Excellent job, by the way. We wonder if you any chance of reconciliation left? Not if they knew who you were really working for.”

“You're a monster.”

Trixie prepared to argue the point, but she paused. “Probably,” she conceded. “But that's the fate of us monsters, don't you know? Take it all out on other ponies to distract ourselves from how much we're hurting. Do everything we can to keep things solid. And speaking of other ponies, I take it your mission went well?”

Orange nodded solemnly. “The bomb worked exactly as planned. So much more efficient than that Griffin assassin. Twilight Sparkle, both Twilight Sparkles, are dead.”