Jumping In At The Deep End

Chapters

Chapter Two: Learned To Swim
Chapter Three: And Only Drowned A Little Bit
Chapter Four: With The Help Of The Sun
Chapter Five: Found A Safe Shore
Chapter Six: And A Place To Call Home
Chapter Seven: Tugging At The Heartstrings
Chapter Eight: Plans Meeting Reality
Chapter Nine: Once Upon A Time
Chapter Ten, Part One: In a Magical Land
Chapter Ten, Part Two: Lessons Were Learned
Chapter Eleven: New Chances Have A Price
Chapter Twelve: Running Before Walking
Chapter Fourteen: The Rain Before
Chapter Fifteen: Teatime Master
Chapter Sixteen: Sunny's Sun Set
Chapter Seventeen: Several Scholastic Shenanigans
Chapter Eighteen: Tentative Therapeutic Tensions
Chapter Nineteen: Dreams and Wonders Of The Yonder
Chapter Twenty: Things That Go Wrong
Cohiberi (non-canon)
Chapter Twenty-One: Dodgy Dodgeball Drudgery
Chapter Twenty-Two: Changing Winds
Chapter Twenty-Three: Manehattan Morning
Chapter Twenty-Four: Mark That Binds
Chapter Twenty-Five: Parental Advisory Needed
Chapter Twenty-Six: The Woes Of Written Words
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Dread of Diamonds
Chapter One: Jumped Right In
Chapter Thirteen: Stumbling Around A Little

Chapter Two: Learned To Swim

God, if you are listening, I just want you to know one thing.

The minty green filly dodged, hooves leaving marks in the forest soil as she avoided the wooden beast's jaws snapping shut inches away from her neck. Its jagged fangs found only air.

You are not funny.

Another one pounced. In the blink of an eye, the filly vanished and appeared with a ‘pop’ in previously empty space above the timberwolf, positioned to deliver a kick with her hind legs.

Herbivore eaten by plants. Really? That's cheap. Is that a karmic punishment for all the cacti I killed in my old apartment? I swear, they just decided to die by themselves one day!

The timber wolf staggered back, pieces of bark crumbling and falling off, revealing a fibrous mass of uncovered muscle made from plant matter. Hearing a twig snap behind her, the unicorn dropped to the ground, claws of the third monster barely missing her nape.

How many of these things are in this accursed forest? This isn't a pack, this is a whole damn hive! There are more strangely colored canines here than in an average furry convention!

Landing on a bed of slimy wet moss, she rolled to the side, avoiding another attack. The duped timberwolf buried its fearsome teeth into some shrubbery instead.

Dodge and weave, that’s all she could do now. Normal tactics just didn't work on them. There was no standing your ground with those things. No proving that you just weren't worth it as a meal. Even when she destroyed them, they just reformed nearly instantly! Vicious hungry monsters, with nothing behind those angry glowing eyes.

She heard her own heart drumming loudly in her ears. The world was fuzzy. Her lungs were on fire, and the timber wolves were everywhere and they kept on coming.

Too many to fight, nowhere to hide. Run, run as fast as possible.

Stark expression on her face, gaze focused, she reached into her pocket with her magic. Waiting for the moment to give the wolves a slip, before the rest of the giant army of snapping jaws and sharp claws had the chance to catch up.

The wolves started circling her, ready to pounce again. Bit to the side, just a little more…

Now!

A small, metal cylinder landed between the confused wooden beasts, exploding into black smoke, before they realized what happened. A green blur dashed past them.

The filly aimed at the denser parts of the undergrowth. For once, being tiny aided the unicorn in some way. Howling was echoing behind her. Already alerting the rest of the pack about her location? Shit.

The bigger bodies of the timber wolves bulldozed through the vegetation, sending dirt and greenery flying in their rush. The smell of pony flesh and magic tantalizingly close. This one smelled different from the others. Alien and so… enticing. The strange power resting inside their prey would sustain the pack for weeks.

The timberwolves were getting close, despite her mad run in the hard terrain, even running across a river at one point. Yet, she just couldn't lose them! Worse, it was like those things were tracking her on radar or something! No matter what she did or where she hid, they just continued finding her! But she still had some tricks up her sleeve.

Using her powers willy-nilly would cost dearly. Each use was more time forced to stay in this place, unable to get closer to home. But with no other options left, it was time to get creative.

God, I hope this works without hands.

With a pack of timber wolves following close behind, the filly ran and ran, straight towards an old oak tree. Hooves thundering on the forest floor, sticks and leaves flying around her and staying in the air, floating.

Crap, crap, crap!

Too much power leakage, too broad and unfocused. That wasn't a good sign this soon, but she had to continue now.

The timberwolves were close, snapping at her tail. The tree right there! Its ancient trunk towered above its neighbors.

The hunters were filled with bloodlusted glee. Their prey was trapped now! Soon they would all feast.

Then she reached the tree.

And continued running.

Gravity bent around the pony foal. Reality got smacked over the head with a barstool again as the filly ran vertically up the tree, in blind disregard of all conventional physics, rushing towards the branches at the top. The wolves uselessly barking below her, the rest of the beasts gathering at the trunk. Some of them tried to climb, only to fall back down and break into pieces.

She grinned. “Suck it, you termite ridden flea magnets! Yeah!”

Reach the canopy. The forest here is dense enough that I can just jump from tree to tree and avoid them all together. “No meat for you, you hear me? Ya stupid vegetables with anger issues! This piece of… flank? Flank. This piece of flank stays alive one more day!”

Her smile vanished quickly as she noticed the intensifying green glow coming from the timberwolves.

“What the-”

The wolves were intentionally throwing themselves at the tree now, breaking apart. Their discarded parts slowly being enveloped in an eerie glow.

Well, that can't be good.

The pieces of bark, twigs and wood started levitating, swirling in a miniature tornado of timberwolf gore. Slowly, the parts combined into an enormous beast. The creature was bigger than two grizzly bears stitched together and thrice as angry. Nothing but a few tons of concentrated hatred, hunger and savage rage, radiating evil energy strong enough to make a lawyer blush.

Please don't climb, please don't climb, please don't climb…

With what she would swear was an evil smirk, the enormous beast raised a single great paw and tore its hardened claws into the tree, cutting a giant chunk of wood from the oak. The tree tilted to one side, rumbling, and the sound of cracking wood rang out through the Everfree.

Phew! No, wait. This is worse, actually.

She jumped, gripping the next tree and nearly lost concentration on the gravity defying power as the wolf simply turned and cut the second tree down, while the oak she previously climbed fell to the ground in a rain of splinters.

Think, think! I can't keep this up forever! Why did I think this was a good idea? Stupid horse brain!

Terrified birds and squirrels were jumping ship. Scanning the forest floor for anything to get her out of this hairy situation, her eyes panned over a rock formation, hiding a hole leading underground between it. The rocks were falling inside as the ground shook from more felled trees. Wait, were those giant bear tracks near it?

It didn't really matter to her what they were. It was a cave. A potentially unstable cave.

This just might work.

Jumping again, aiming to get closer to the cave, the mega timberwolf kept destroying the trees around the filly. The ground shaking more and more. Destabilizing the cave with each impact, getting closer to her goal as she felt her energy deplete.

She stopped, holding onto a branch. Barely catching her breath, her head aching from keeping the gravity at bay for so long.

The wolf approached, its steps heavy and lumbering, ready to finish the job and claim the pesky little prey trying to escape. It raised its cleaver like claws and-

Then the ground under it collapsed, leaving the wolf to stare for a second in bewilderment, before the cave swallowed the beast whole. The silence was then replaced by a great roar, pitiful canine yelps and a sound very much like a wood chipper doing something horrible to an old chair.

“Ha! Take that, you stupid piece of future IKEA furniture!”

The massive tree she was on started to fall, the ground too unstable to support its weight. In a desperate attempt at keeping herself from following it, the filly jumped to the next tree, her hooves slipping on the bark as her focus waned, the power holding gravity at bay faded, reality coming back at her with a vengeance, cheeky grin and a bar stool.

As gravity claimed her once again, a single bizarre thought entered her mind.

“Oh, come on, that's twice this week!”

The fall was long; she knew that much. The underbrush could soften it a little, but probably not enough for it to matter. If the impact didn't kill her immediately, the broken bones, concussion, internal bleeding or good old normal bleeding would get her soon after.

Her life flashed before her eyes, which was quite annoying, really. With the number of near-death experiences she collected, she saw it flash so often that the early bits became really boring and repetitive. It reminded her of only being able to watch one single movie while on a seventeen hour road trip when she was a child, because the rest got left back home.

‘Huh, I should check if they have any movies in this dimension. Who knows, maybe I will snag something to re-watch later when I nearly die again.’

With closed eyes, she felt the wind blowing around her. She didn't need to see to know that the ground steadily approached, a few moments left before the big splat.

All of her life condensed into a few seconds. The good, the bad, the ugly, and the boring.

A home with people smiling, a laugh with a friend, quiet guitar playing around a campfire. Loved people, missed people, normal people. Moments of peace, moments of struggle. Gas station late at night. Train leaving the station, nearly devoid of passengers. A simple conversation with a bus driver at five in the morning. Somehow, it was them. The gray, mundane, and human moments were what she missed the most.

She opened her eyes and pulled, reality straining under the pressure

All movement around her came to a halt, the world fell into silence. Reality got kicked in the teeth once again.

As gently as a feather, she reached the ground.

Wave of nausea came over her, the feeling best described as a bastard child from the unholy union of hangover, bad trip from weed bought in a shady alley when already blitzed, and a brain aneurysm.

Well, this ain't great. But hey, it could be worse.

The tree, floating in suspended time above the unicorn only moments earlier, fell. Burying the filly under its weight.

She didn't feel very good.

That by itself was a victory, because to feel at all, one has to be alive.

But that's of little consolation to someone who has a very good reason to not feel good, like, for example, a piece of wood sticking from one's foreleg.

Normal reactions to such a find are shock, probably followed by screaming. In this case, there was only seething anger.

You stupid idiot! You nearly got yourself killed! Again! Fuck! You are one lucky dumbass that the branch missed the artery, otherwise you could say the hope of ever seeing home again a big fat farewell!

The pony hissed in pain. Lifting the impaled limb up, red was seeping from it and staining her jacket. With her healthy foreleg, she applied pressure, acting more or less on muscle memory alone.

Fuck, there is no way I will be able to pull that thing out without bleeding out.

She needed real medical help, not the few pieces of first-aid training she barely remembered. But help was not coming. No one knew of her existence here, no one would find her, and no one would miss her.

The walls were closing in. The world didn't look real. This wasn't him. Nothing here was real. He wasn't real. He would die and no one would care. Alone. So alone. Even his name was lost. Nobody. Nothing. That was all that was left of him.

Her chest felt heavy, her breathing was pained and uneven, tears were flowing down her muzzle. Adrenaline was still coursing through her veins, only exacerbating the rising sense of dread.

The filly gave herself a mental slap. Get it together. This is not a good time to have a panic attack! Stop the bleeding, secure that stupid splinter, get out of here before more monsters arrive… find help. You can do it, so start doing it, you maggot!

And stop crying!

Out of her hiker's jacket, she pulled a roll of bandages marked with a sign of a snake eating itshis tail. Using a great length of them to mitigate the bleeding and secure the embedded piece of wood in place. The job wasn't pretty. Doing it one-hooved with depleting magic wasn’t made any easier by the tears clouding her vision.

Taking a deep breath, she got up on three shaking legs. She was a mess of bruises, filthy, and was starting to resemble an Egyptian mummy more and more by the minute.

Blood loss, bruises, and probably a concussion. Great, as if the rest wasn't enough. Now I can add brain damage to my growing list of problems. The infinite roll of bandages ain't gonna help much with that. The magelight orb is probably the only thing keeping me conscious at the moment.

It was clear she needed to contact the locals. She saw something from up in the treetops. Rows and rows of fruit trees, waiting like soldiers. An orchard that wasn't that far away.

Fear struck her with force.

The last time you tried that, you were nearly enslaved and used as a living gateway for a tyrant to invade other worlds, met a demon wanting to make you a living toy - well, living would be maybe an exaggeration in for what he was planning to do with you - and nearly got killed over a dozen different ways and somehow nearly lost your damn mind.

And before that, a glassed death world where you met Her.

The burns still stung.

One emergency jump after another. All of these horse worlds were dangerous, and you want to contact the locals when wounded?

Was it safe? No, not at all, but she wouldn't make it alone. This was a foolish endeavor from the beginning. She couldn't keep this up. Not at this pace. Not after months, no, nearly a year without pause. Without seeing a friendly face.

Meeting the locals under any circumstance would be insanity, but did she even have a choice?

With the direction set, the pony started limping away in her chosen direction; the sun dipping below the horizon behind her.

Let's hope that these ones are friendly.

Author's Note

I swear, this one is supposed to be the feel-good, cuddly story. Don't arrest me yet.

Also, what the hell happened? Why is this in the featured? Holy cow, this story somehow blew up.

It's honestly terrifying. This was supposed to be a small side thing I do when I'm bored. (Which is often right now, as I'm still recovering from my last bound of bad luck and have nothing to do.) But hell! Thank you very much, but this is scary. Before, I could at least be okay with my mediocrity, knowing that only about one and a half people are going to read it, but now I don't know so much.

Chapter edited and proofread by the great PseudoBob Delightus

Chapter Three: And Only Drowned A Little Bit

The farm of Sweet Apple Acres was quiet that evening. The family house standing in its heart was lit in a serene glow of a few oil lamps as the adult residents gathered in the kitchen, the room permeated with the smell of apple pies.

“I’m tellin' ya, we can't set uncle Strudel and Golden next to each other. Don’tcha remember the last reunion? The two wouldn't stop bickerin’ if the sun suddenly stopped movin’!”

On the dining table was their battle plan. A rough sketch, marked with cutie mark pins and red yarn, creating a complex interwoven web of family relations, wants and expectations.

To an outside viewer, the scene would look more like a group of criminals planning the heist of the century, but to the Apples, this was something of much greater importance and complexity, requiring infinitely more planning, and with the possibility of ending much worse than any robbery.

The seating for lunch at the family reunion.

“They’re still at it? I say, they wanna act like little colts? Let’em.” The earth pony matriarch laughed. “Maybe we can set Apple Bumpkin next to ‘em, that would show her! Think she can do better fritters than me? Hah!”

Granny Smith, in her years and knowledge, still had a few lessons for the young ponies around her.

Like never, ever, mess with old grannies.

Applejack could only sigh. Planning this reunion took a lot out of the farm-pony. Not to mention the coming Summer Sun Celebration! The catering for the festival would need the whole extended Apple family to be ready. Just the thought of organizing so many ponies made her head hurt. “How did that whole feud even start?” she asked absentmindedly.

The old earth pony scratched her chin. “Huh, I don't rightly remember. It started in the year fifty two, when Golden Delicious burrowed Strudels cart an’ then gave it back dinked. Or, was it Golden’s fence that Strudel promised to paint and never did? Hmm, Perhaps it was when aunt-”

Meanwhile, Applejack noticed Big Mac was staring blankly out of the window, dishes from supper left unwashed in his hooves. While it wasn't that abnormal for ponies to check out when Granny really got going, this wasn't that kind of blank stare.

“Bic Mac, something bothering ya?” Applejack asked. The stallion was still unmoving, gazing into the dark, but familiar garden.

“Somepony outside,” he said simply.

“- and that's why we should always knock before enterin’ a barn- wait, somepony outside? At this hour?”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “What could they want? We ain't no inn.”

The farm pony got up and walked to the front doors. “Probably some of them fancy city folk who got lost on their way to the town for the celebration.”

The yard in front of the house was mostly pitch black, as the weather ponies had covered the sky in clouds in preparation for tomorrow's rain - the land would need it before the festival began and with it the several days of scheduled sunny weather.

Only a small circle of light found its way outside the door and windows, coloring the front yard in gentle gold.

Somepony was moving into the circle slowly, Applejack could even hear their labored breaths.

Something wasn't right with them, that she realized fast as she made out the silhouette of the stranger. Limping, holding one leg close to their chest. Grunting with each step.

“Howdy there, are ya alright? You seem-” she cut herself off as the pony entered the light.

A filly, no older than Apple Bloom. Eyes bloodshot, jacket on her back dirty. Her tiny body was absolutely covered in bandages, the three legs she used for walking wobbly. She was shaking, despite the spring day’s warmth lingering in the air.

Applejack thought herself a good reader of expressions. Somepony who could spot a lie.

That filly wore a mask, a brave face to put on when faced with fear, the tear streaked face of a scared child under it.

Despite her best attempts at hiding it, the filly was terrified. And yet, there was a spark of something else behind the grim horror.

Pleading, almost begging.

Hope.

No.

Daring to hope.

“Greetings,” the filly said. “I require prompt medical attention.”

And with that, the foal collapsed.

Nurse Red Heart listened, hoof tapping against the reception desk. “And she said nothing else?”

Applejack’s shoulders sagged. “Nah, not a word. She mumbled a lot, but none of it made a lick of sense.”

Ultimately, Applejack was glad that the ordeal was over now. The panic that had ensued after finding an unknown foal on their doorstep was fastly replaced by action, as they scrambled to get the wounded filly to the hospital before it was too late.

Both of the adult Apple family siblings went, Applejack holding the filly in place while Bic Mac pulled the cart with them at breakneck speeds. But now, several hours later, sitting in the mostly abandoned Ponyville general in the early morning, she largely felt hollow. The fate of that little green bag of fur and bones was out of her hooves.

“It's just that she seems to be a very unusual case,” Red Heart tried to put it delicately, but in her head, alarms were blaring since the unknown filly arrived.

The injuries were, simply put, brutal. Not only the impaled foreleg, but the concussion, the burns, the signs of long term malnourishment.

Those terrible scars…

Red Heart shuddered.

When they brought her in, the filly was still somewhat conscious. The way she just… stared at them and didn't even flinch as they pulled the piece of wood from her leg. The utter dejection with which a small filly faced the pain.

This wasn’t normal behavior, far from it. Red Heart realized that the foal didn’t even ask for… well, anything. She did not call for her parents. Did not scream, cry, or whimper.

What kind of foal does not cry for their mother when they are hurt?

“Hmm,” Applejack hummed. “Her folks must be scared witless by now.”

“Hopefully, yes.”

A foal going missing was a big deal. Guards would be alerted, looking everywhere for the missing foal. Nearby towns would be notified and search parties would be sent.

None of that applied to their tiny green patient. There was no notice of a missing foal with her description. There were no records of her. They shared dental records with Canterlot central hospital for purposes of finding missing ponies. The doctors sent the fastest available pegasus, the captain of the weather team, to fetch them, but it came back blank! Empty!

For all legal purposes, that filly hadn’t existed until a few hours ago.

“Hopefully?” asked Applejack.

Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden noise from the staff room, as the doors burst open. A heap of bandages rolled into the hallway, together with a stallion clad in white. “Nurse! You won't believe this,” he said cheerfully, holding a roll of bandages with a sign of a snake eating its tail stamped on them. “It’s infinite! Infinite bandages!”

Red Heart could only sigh. “Apologies, duty calls. Again, thank you for saving that little filly's life.”

Applejack nodded. “It was nothing. Anypony would do that.”

The nurse smiled at the farm-pony, before turning to the best medical professional in Ponyville, currently doing snow angels in a mass of bandages. “Doctor! For the last time, stop playing with the patients' items! Those cabinets are for safekeeping!”

Her mind went back to the tiny green unicorn. The clear evidence of the struggle that filly had gone through. She couldn't imagine the kinds of thoughts that must have been going through the little one's head.

What must it be doing to her psychologically? What irreversible damage was done? One feared to think of the kinds of dark thoughts the filly must harbor…

Oh my gosh! Is that pie? Fuck yeah!

She laid in bed, inspecting a piece of pie. A real, oven baked, not-made-from-secret-ingredient-that-turnout-to-be-someones-neighbors pie.

In her head, two voices fought. The first warned her: It could be a trap, it could be poisoned. It could even be people! Well, it's butterscotch and cinnamon, so probably not, but still! Cinnamon trees could be sapient here! That's like eating someone's skin!

The other voice said: Unga bunga, SUGAR, unga bunga, SCREW DIABETES, unga bunga.

For some reason, the second voice reminded her of something pink.

She shrugged and took a bite.

Feeling herself relax, she sank into the hospital bed. The texture, the taste, the richness of the flavor and the sugary goodness.

This was, without question, worth it. Even if it is a poison, I'm not regretting it.

When she had approached the farmhouse, she didn't know what to expect. What would it be this time? A crazy cult? Bandits? Ghosts?

Her first thought for a random farm in the middle of nowhere was a clan of cannibals,, but considering they were sapient horses, that was pretty unlikely. Though not as unlikely as she thought at first.

Horses can eat meat, apparently.

Of course, they gave it to her as a dietary supplement. Salted fish is apparently great for a growing unicorn, something to do with horns, extra calcium and keratin.

That wasn't on the list of things she thought she would learn today.

Or ever.

But hey, how did that one saying go? Don't look a gift fish in the strange dietary properties when concerning equines? That probably isn't it but close enough.

When the door to that charming family house opened, instead of a serial killer wearing someone' skin as pajamas or a worshiper of eldritch truths with tentacles sprouting from their face, there was an orange mare with a stetson, hopefully not former sapient skin made, and a concerned expression.

The rest was a bit of a blur. Other than a rocky ride while someone held her firmly, there wasn't much worth remembering.

They arrived at a hospital, got that stupid stick out and now, she had pie!

And fish.

She was still confused about the fish.

No one had hurt her yet. No one was planning on hurting her for now. The locals were helping her, treating her wounds, and giving her food and the first real bed she had slept in since… since forever.

She made no illusions about how long this would last. The fate of jumpers who got careless was a swift vacation to the not alive land.

If they were lucky.

The horses were using heaps of magic on everything. The doctor was using levitation and healing spells on her leg, the medicine was magic, hell, the way the horses were able to grab things with their hooves was magic!

Beings like that would find out about her powers sooner or later. About what she was, who she was... The only thing keeping her alive was the transformation forced upon her when entering other worlds. But even that would turn out to be a poor cover.

And if that wasn't enough, she was stuck in the body of a child.

That was concerning. It limited her physical abilities, made her vulnerable mentally. Right now? They probably thought her to be some homeless kid, but after they find the truth?

A memory wormed its way into her mind.

Deep in the guts of the war machine, the sound of battle reached them faintly. The smell of iron and blood was thick, clinging to them, enveloping everything like a cloak. A man stood chained to a pillar, a portal opened in front of him. The chained man was empty. Gone. His mind was destroyed, his personality shattered. All that was left was a tool. A door left open for the monsters to use. To kill, to destroy and enslave even beyond their realm.

His hand shook, the grip on his sword shaky. “I'm sorry,” came the whisper to his former friend. To the shell left behind. “I'm so sorry.”

A single swing of his weapon was all it took. The doors were shut and his friend's soul soared free.

Something was in her eye, making it hard to see.

A noise got her attention, the doors were gently pushed open and a white blob pushing something entered the small hospital room.

“Hello little one… Oh my.”

The original purpose of her visit was momentarily forgotten the second Red Heart saw the crying filly. “Shhh it's going to be okay,” the nurse said, hooves outstretched to embrace the sobbing foal.

“Do. Not. Touch. Me.”

The answer was ice. It spoke of steel and iron. Of rage so cold it burned. Of cities left in rubble and graves filled with the undeserving.

It was a voice filled with barely held anguish.

The nurse staggered back, fighting an urge to run, to turn around and bolt. The foal regained her composure fast. The tears stopped and a sheepish expression appeared on her muzzle.

“Sorry, I just… don't like being touched, if that's okay with you,” she said, mustering a false smile.

Red Heart couldn't move, beads of sweat forming on her brow. “T-that’s o-okay,” the mare stammered.

The filly face-hooved. Way to blow your cover Einstein. Out of all the things to stay with you after leaving a world behind, it must have been The Voice…

This was still recoverable. Play into it, make yourself look traumatized and small. If their minds work anything like humans, their instinct and fantasy should fill the blanks for you.

“Ehm,” Red Heart cleared her throat. She had to keep it together! A filly that needed her help! ”I have a few questions for you. We would be very happy if you could answer them for us.”

“Okay,” came the weak answer.

“You don't need to say anything if it makes you uncomfortable.” Red Heart said softly. “First, can I have your name?”

… Nah. Not falling for that again.

The truth was, she didn't have an answer. There were many things she lost on her journey, things she never had time to mourn. The loss of her name was one of them.

Nobody of nowhere. A shadow passing through their worlds, a visitor who leaves without a trace. That was all she wanted to be. What she was forced to be. She was like a very inefficient burglar. Barging in and leaving empty-handed because someone woke up. In Texas. And the guy who woke up watched too much Rambo and now was ready to kick her sorry ass.

An unwanted host at best. A threat to be eradicated most of the time.

Useful ability to exploit at worst.

Should she lie? What was the naming convention so far? Names relating to the sky seemed common, but her sample size was pretty small. As in three people. Green Star? That’s a horrible name. Sun Raiser? Night Strife? That might work.

But it wasn't her. Who was she? An unknown with no name.

“Anon,” the filly said, testing the word on her tongue. “Call me Anon.”

The nurse looked at her, puzzlement clear on her face. Cute in a way. All the inhabitants of this world were cute in the small, fuzzy animal kind of way. Right now, the mare reminded Anon of her dog whenever she only pretended to throw the stick. Confusion morphing into betrayal kind of look. “That's… that's not a name, dear.”

“Nope, but it's as close to one as I have.”

She scrunched her muzzle. Again, that was just cute. “Would you… want a name?”

The filly shrugged. It was not like it would matter. Her true name was gone. Nothing short of a god could replace that. “No, not really.”

That answer appeared unsatisfactory to the white mare, which was the intention. Keep it vague, let them make up the story for you.

“We will talk about this later, would that be okay, sweetie?”

The nurse paced nervously, trying to breach the subject gentl. She had a feeling this would not be an easy conversation. “Do you know where your parents are?”

Anon's ears drooped, the movement entirely involuntarily on her part. The whole conversation only served as a reminder. Opening old wounds.

Use it, make it work.

Anon was no actor, trying to lie would only open her story to further investigation. Stall, let them fill in the blanks by themselves. Their fantasy would create a more convincing story than any lie she could come up with on the fly.

The later the truth came out, the more time she had to heal. To prepare and aim the next jump properly.

“I don't know,” Anon answered.

The nurse's gaze somehow softened. “We’re not going to hurt you, sweetie. If… If they hurt you, we won’t send you back to them.”

Silence reigned, the green filly hiding her face by looking down at the clean sheets of the hospital bed.

Please take the bait, come on. Look at me. A cute lost kiddo. Nothing strange here. Just a standard case of family abuse and abandonment! In no way connected to the strange alien artifacts I carried in my pockets!

...

Ah shit. Well, here’s hoping they won't search through them too closely, otherwise this charade is going up in flames!

Literally, some of the stuff she carried could be turned into explosives if handled improperly.

The mare sighed “Okay I won’t force you to talk, but don’t hesitate to speak to any of the staff if you need something, can you promise me that?”

“... Kay.”

The nurse gave her first truly sincere smile of her visit, barely stopping herself from ruffling Anon’s mane.

The signs pointed to a case of gross neglect. Touching her without consent would not endear the filly to them very much.

She cleaned the remnants of Anon’s dinner from her tray. At least her appetite was healthy.

“I have a request,” she heard the filly pipe out, her tiny hooves nervously scuffing at the bedding. “Could you… could you bring me my notebook, please? It would mean a lot.”

“Of course sweetie.”

Anon laid back to the comfort of the bed. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. Maybe it would be alright for once.

Meanwhile, in the secret basement of an inconspicuous sweet shop, a dark figure activated a transmission array. The intricate spellwork springing to life, lighting the room with its arcane runes.

The figure spoke, features hidden by the shadows: “Agent BB reporting, the locator found a target.”

There was a hint of hidden excitement in her voice. After spending the entire night triangulating the source of the strange signal, they finally had the source. “We have a hit, I repeat, we-”

“Hey Bon Bon!”

The doors to the cellar opened, a cheery unicorn mare peeping inside.

“Eek!” Bon Bon screamed, scurrying to hide the array behind her back. “Lyra! How many times I have to tell you! Knock!”

How did she even get inside? I swear I locked it this time…

“Geez, no need to yell, Bonnie. Dinner’s ready.”

“... thanks.”

“Thanks what?”

“Thanks Honey Bunny, you are the best,” she said, gesturing wildly at the door and pushing Lyra out. ”Now scamper!”

“Okay.” Lyra gave her a quick peck on the lips. “Don't make me wait, Sweet Cheeks.”

She felt her ears veritably burn; the array was still open, wasn’t it? She would never hear the end of this from the Boss…

Where I was - oh!

“We have the location of the anomaly.”

“Ponyville General Hospital.”

Author's Note

Dun-dun-dun!

To be honest, I'm not happy with this chapter, but screw it! I'm not happy with any of my writing, so it's not that much of a difference.

I think there are only two types of artists. Those saying that their past works suck, and the ones lying about it.

An hour earlier is technically the past!

I spent hours trying to make the southern accent seem natural. I failed, but hell, it's staying in now! I'm too deep into sunk cost fallacy to back down now!

Somehow, someway, this story is still featured at the time of writing this.

Why?

I mean…

WHY?!

Chapter Four: With The Help Of The Sun

It always seems impossible until it's done

-Nelson Mandela

Anon sighed, the quill dancing above the cheap paper of her journal in uncertainty. The only thing that seemed impossible to do was the usage of the damn thing.

Should have asked for my pen, too.

She willed the green aura enveloping the quill to move. Beads of sweat formed on her brow.

I got stabbed by a tree.
Again.

Ink stained the paper in an unsightly blotch. It had been far too long since using a quill, and she had never been any good with them in the first place. Add the unfamiliar magic to the mix and the result was basically unreadable.

Contacted the locals, got medical attention. Wounds are healing nicely. The locals made no overly hostile move yet - probably have them fooled. But they confiscated my stuff. Will look into getting it back.

The filly frowned. The quill made for incredibly inefficient writing, the little text she wrote already filling half the page.

Tired now, going to sleep.
End of day 1129ish. Signing out and see you soon.

Finding a comfortable position in bed as a quadruped was a bit of a novel challenge for the jumper, made even more difficult by one of her front legs being injured. She found out that laying on her side wasn't comfortable, and she hated sleeping on her back.

It took twenty minutes of fidgeting, turning and throwing off the blanket twice before she found an agreeable position. She copied the way her dog used to sleep, on her belly, with her tail tucked by her side and her healthy leg under her head.

Then something tickled her nose.

What the- Oh, that's just my tail. Note to self…*Yawn* shorten… your… tail…

Before she finished the thought, she had already drifted off to sleep.

"Good morning Anon."

Anon blinked groggily. Did she really fall asleep so fast? That was incredibly concerning. The combination of her injuries, being in a child's body, and good old exhaustion must have gotten to her more than she expected.

Nurse Red Heart entered the room and opened the curtains. The bright light causing Anon to hiss at the belligerent sun, eliciting a chuckle from the nurse.

Curse you, you overrated ball of plasma!

"Morning," she said tiredly, wiping the last remnants of sleep from her eyes.

"My-my, somepony is not an early riser," the nurse chirped cheerfully. "Did you sleep well, sweetie?"

"Better than well." She fought to suppress a yawn. "Best sleep I've had in years."

The mare smiled. "That's good to hear. I brought you breakfast."

Red Heart grabbed a tray with her mouth, balancing a glass of juice and a bowl of oats on it. The filly smelled it suspiciously.

No poison, but they added something to the juice. More dietary supplements is my guess. Well, that's the price you pay for living solely on magic for three weeks.

The nurse frowned a little at that. "I know foals don't like to eat their oats much. You don't need to eat it all, but-"

With a blur of green and a loud slurping noise, the bowl was cleaned of its contents. The filly licking her lips.

"Nevermind."

Anon gave a content burp. "Sorry."

She giggled. "You certainly have quite the appetite. I think not even Pinkie would manage to eat so quickly."

"Who?"

She waved her hoof. "Somepony I have a feeling you are going to meet soon."

Anon shrugged. As ominous as the statement was, what kind of damage could someone named Pinkie do?

She felt a shiver go down her spine.

What the hell was that?

"But first you need a bath, young lady. You will feel right as rain before you know it."

Bath wouldn't hurt. She took a quick dip in the spring near the ruined castle, but the prospect of a real bath, warm water and all, was nearly better than the food. "That would be great, thank you."

Red Heart smiled, relieved. For a moment she thought she would have to wrestle the filly into taking a bath, like she sometimes had to with younger foals.

"But I need to use the toilet first, if that's okay."

Anon climbed out of the bed before Red Heart got the chance to react, the filly still quite agile despite the injured leg.

The nurse led her to the tiled room, the sign on the doors singing to her the forbidden song of indoor plumbing and soft toilet paper.

Finally, after all these years!

"Do you want any help?" said the nurse, catching the filly staring at the doors labeled with some strange pictograms and a silhouette of a mare drawn on them.

Inner peace.

"Nope."

Her business done, she limped back to the nurse, who meanwhile had drawn a bath for her, including a copious amount of bubbles and a rubber ducky.

Anon was about to get in, when she stopped, remembering the bandages around her barrel and leg.

"Don't worry about those, the bandages are enchanted," the nurse reassured her, noticing her distress.

Anon raised an eyebrow. Waterproof bandages didn't sound like something that would, well, work as a bandage.

It's magic, and magic does as magic wants. No reason to question it, she reasoned in the end.

The filly hesitated for a moment, feeling the gaze of the kind white mare boring into her back.

It wasn't embarrassment holding her back. The only item of clothing she could reliably carry across worlds was her jacket. And she had done things far more embarrassing than being bathed. She did teleport butt-naked into public places on a basically biweekly basis. At this point she had stolen more pants than she had ever owned before she started jumping.

The room had no other exits than the doors. There were no escape routes. She felt trapped.

That, of course, was utter nonsense.

I can phase through solid objects. No chains can hold me, no wall can contain me. Breathe, calm down, and stop acting stupid!

With some trepidation, she stepped in. The feeling of hot water soaking her fur was heavenly. After a while, she closed her eyes and simply relaxed as Red Heart took upon herself to scrub all the gunk and filth from the foal's coat.

"I'm going to help you get all the dirt from your fur, okay?"

"Mhm," was the only answer she got from the filly. Hearing no further protests, she started to work, the clean water of the bath turning brown. The nurse had to be careful around the filly's back, not wanting to disturb… those.

Red Heart felt her heart sink. She had read the report, but seeing them was an entirely different experience. A deep, furious scowl wormed its way onto the nurse's muzzle. Her hoof shook a little, pulling some hairs.

"Ouch, careful."

"Sorry."

There were so many of them. Criss-crossing over each other in an ugly pattern, hidden by the green coat, and only revealed now that the fur was wet.

Scars.

Red Heart was at a loss. What was she supposed to do?! She wasn't trained for this! These things weren't supposed to happen! Not in Equestria! She knew nothing about dealing with this kind of trauma. She was just a nurse, for Celestia's sake!

But she had to do something.

"Anon… you know we will not let anypony hurt you, do you?"

Anon was caught off guard, shooting the nurse a questioning look. Did she do something wrong?

"Sure?"

Where did that come from?

"Come now, let's get you dried off."

After being enveloped in a snug cocoon of towels and having her mane brushed so she no longer looked like she survived a hurricane and carried the consequences, Anon let out a sigh of relief.

The village outside the hospital window was strangely familiar. The view looked as if someone took it straight from a postcard. Pretty, well-cared-for rustic houses with straw roofs and many colorful banners hanging out of their windows, with the locals frolicking around without a care in the world.

A sense of déjà vu struck her. This… she saw this village before. Just not like this, not so lively.

"Can I ask, what are all those banners for?"

"Those?" the nurse pointed. "Those are for the Summer Sun Celebration. To think our small town would have the chance to hold it, much less the- "

"Thousandth," Anon interrupted.

She felt her blood run cold. Dread gripped its icy fingers around her. If she was right, then the locals discovering her true identity would be the least of her worries.

This wasn't a parallel world to the three others she had visited, it wasn't just another branch on the world tree.

This was the root. The origin from which more realities would split. Worlds consumed by fire, by madness, and by the dark. Her hoof reached her bandaged chest, the burns underneath making themself known.

"What?"

Red Heart was confused, the filly's demeanor changed in a snap. From the mostly emotionless expression and the way her eyes kept moving, like she was trying to watch the entire room at the same time, to now, as if she had shut off everything around her, standing in place and staring into nothing.

"This is the thousandth Summer Sun Celebration," Anon said in a daze

It wasn't a question, but a statement. It explained everything. Why this world was still alive, why the village looked so familiar.

This was before the end.

"Yes? Why… were you going to the Celebration and got lost?"

She didn't listen, gaze glued to the outside. All of this, the whole village. All these people…

No.

There was still time to prepare, to warn Her. She could be the difference, for once. Maybe even save some of them…

"Listen, I need to get to talk to the-"

A noise got her attention.

Somebody was walking through the hall. She heard the telltale sound of metal plates scraping against each other, the faint smell of oil reached her nostrils.

Armored, plate armor by the sound. Four of them by the footsteps. Soldiers.

She nearly face-palmed.

They are horses, idiot. Four legs. There are only two of them.

There could be some benign reason for armored personnel to visit her. Maybe it was the local police force, and they were only here to investigate the sudden appearance of a lost child…

But she knew that was a lie.

Discovered me too fast. My powers are not at their optimal.

She was on the second floor, with two potential escape routes viable without the use of her powers.

This still can be used to my advantage. I have to warn them.

I need to speak to Celestia.

"Steel, do we really have to do this?"

Stalwart Shield stood before the doors, idly checking the device to see if they truly had the right location. But for once, the ponies at S.M.I.L.E. had done their job correctly and given them the right intel.

He just wished they hadn't.

"It's just a foal. I signed up for the guard to beat up bad guys, not to arrest hospitalized foals!"

His partner for the mission sighed and gave him a pat on the back. "I don't like it either, but orders are orders. Besides, we saw what kind of magical artifacts they had on them. This isn't a normal foal we're dealing with."

Stalwart's shoulders sagged. The guard was still unsure about the entire operation. It was all too sudden. A coded message for the nearest Royal Guards to secure anomalous items in Ponyville, only to discover that the primary source of the disruption was a mysterious lost foal found on a farm at the edge of town? It painted a bad picture in his head.

The Royal Guard mandatory reading material for the situation (Peering Behind the Veil: Extra-Dimensional Breaches for Dummies, First Edition) always specified that any items or beings from behind the veil were alien, dangerous and unpredictable. But this wasn't some many-tentacled beast, eating ponies whole. And the items in question didn't seem dangerous or alien, just kind of weird.

One of them was a spoon. A spoon! Spoon that could change shape into a fork, yes, but otherwise just a spoon. Nothing madness-inducing about that.

Except, maybe, if it ever got stuck as a hybrid between the two. Those always made him kind of mad.

"What if this is just some giant misunderstanding, Steel? I don't want to traumatize a little foal over nothing."

Steel Wind, the more experienced of the pair, was a stallion who ended up as guard through a freak incident of mistaken identity, booze and accidentally walking into the recruitment office instead of the pub next door. Never wanting to be noticed, he only hoped to be like wallpaper: something you know is there, but feel no need to talk to.

Unfortunately for him, Stalwart Shield was exactly the kind of pony to talk to wallpaper.

"Calm down. You're acting like we're going to throw them into the dungeon or something. We're just going to deliver them for questioning, the rest is for the Princess to decide."

The younger guard scratched the back of his head nervously. "I still don't know, it just seems… scummy, y'know?"

"Think of it this way, rookie. If they truly are what they claim to be, then all we are doing is bringing a little filly to have a personal audience with the Princess! That's a thing on the bucket list right there."

Stalwart smiled. Looking at it that way, it didn't seem that bad. He could live with that. But a question remained.

"Steel."

The older guard stopped, hoof lifted to knock on the hospital room's doors.

"Yeah rookie?"

"What's a bucket list?"

Steel wind opened his mouth, then he closed it again, the younger guardsman staring at him with his big teal eyes.

"It's eh, it's… An ancient griffon saying! Yes! Must be connected to how much griffons like buckets."

Stalwart Shield tilted his head. "They do?"

Steel shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe. Now focus on the mission, rookie."

"Sir! Yes sir!"

"Two things, Stalwart. Don't salute in the field. And we are the same rank, dumbass."

Anon listened from behind the doors, an increasingly puzzled look on her face.

This is either a brilliant strategy, made specifically to lower my guard, or I severely overestimated the threat these horse soldiers posed. And at this point, I don't know which one would be worse.

"Anon, what are you doing?"

"Somebody is at the door."

Before the nurse had a chance to contemplate the odd word choice, the knock of an armored hoof against the flimsy doors

"Who is it?" asked Red Heart. Silence filled the room for a few awkward seconds. A suspiciously fake cough and some whispering came from the hallway.

"Wait, that was my cue? Ehm, this is the Royal Guard!"

More silence.

"Rookie, did you forget the important part?"

"Oh! Would you please open the door? Pretty please?"

A deep, drawn-out sigh of a soldier wondering why they reenlisted reached Anon's ears. "Damn it, rookie. Just open the stupid door."

The door very gently and slowly opened, revealing a smiling, bright-eyed stallion with a vibrant blue coat. His armor shining to perfection, its mirror sheen blinding creatures far and wide, causing three cart crashes and four trip injuries just on their way there.

Next to him was his partner, who looked like death, if death seriously needed a coffee break and suffered from clinical depression. Bags under his eyes, coat matted, and his armor going so long without proper care that it now blended nearly perfectly into the gray of his fur. Each had a pair of wings folded by their sides.

Red Heart regarded the two guards with a questioning look. "Hello sirs-"

"Hi!" chirped Stalwart, earning a poke to the ribs from his exasperated colleague.

"-what brings you here? This is a place of healing. Royal Guards or not, unless you have some very important business here, I will have to ask you to leave the premises."

The gray stallion stepped forward, handing a scroll to the mare. It was covered in what to Anon were unreadable hieroglyphics.

Note to myself, written language did not transfer over.

"I'm Corporal Steel Wind and this is Corporal Stalwart Shield. We are here on official Royal Guard matter, under orders from her highness herself. We are to bring any strange artifact found in the last two days, along with the one who had them in their possession, to Canterlot palace for investigation and questioning."

Nurse Red Heart stomped her front hoof, the mare leaning onto the guards. "Questioning?!" she retorted angrily. "She is a little filly! Not a criminal!"

Stalwarts' ears drooped, and he took a step back. Anon could see why. That mare was scary when she wanted to be!

"Please, miss," the guard began, turning the attention of the outraged nurse to him. "We guarantee her safety. And we're not saying she did anything wrong, we're just gathering information."

"And that gives you the right to take my patient away?"

Steel Wind pushed into the room, earning a growl from Red Heart.

"Her presence here raises questions that must be answered, for the safety of Equestrian citizens. We're just following protocol."

"Buck your protocol! You-"

"It's okay. I'm going." Anon walked between them, trying her best to appear casual.

"What?! B-but-" Red Heart stammered.

The filly shook her head. "No need to fight. I'll take a guess and say you already collected my things."

Both of the guards gave each other a side-long glance. Steel Wind recovered first. "We did."

"But if you want to take anything else with you, I'm sure we can arrange that!" piped out Shield.

Anon shook her head. "Other than my journal, no. The sooner we can go, the sooner this whole thing can be over."

A firm hoof landed on her shoulder and sat her down, the filly recoiled slightly at the touch. Red Heart's eyes darted between the filly and the guards. "Are you absolutely sure, sweetie?" She tried to keep her tone calm and reassuring, but there was no hiding the concern in her voice. "You don't need to listen to them just because they're adults. If you don't want to go, don't."

Anon hesitated, feeling guilty for a moment for fooling the kindly mare. A nagging voice in the back of her brain screaming at the jumper.

This is a terrible idea! Don't you see how convenient it is? Too convenient! A trap, luring you in for the kill! Run you daft bastard!

But she wouldn't run. Not this time. And what good would running even bring her? Hiding in the wilderness, waiting until she could jump to some other world, and forget this place? Leave all these innocent people to their fate?

I may be a coward, but I'm not heartless.

"Yes, I'm sure. And… thank you. For being nice to me."

Red Heart smiled. "Be good out there, Anon."

"I'll try."

The guards stood by the doors, unsure of what to do next. Neither of them had really expected to get this far. Anon broke the awkward silence.

"Well, what are we waiting for? The Princess is waiting!"

For better or worse.

"Wow, you're good at that. You think you could tutor my little brother? He always struggles with his math homework."

They were flying.

Anon tried her best to ignore that fact.

The guards had a chariot, which wasn't that far out of the ordinary, until Anon considered that it was a pegasus-drawn flying chariot. Though the 'flying' part was detabatable. Flying was supposed to be a graceful, coordinated ordeal.

This was more akin to falling in multiple directions at once, including upwards.

She was eternally grateful for whoever had forgotten a book of sudoku-style puzzles in the back seat. While the local language wasn't familiar to Anon, the number system was, allowing her the distraction of devouring puzzle after puzzle and helpinpg her avoid any direct eye contact with the distant ground, which Anon felt had to have some personal vendetta against her.

"Rookie, don't get too buddy-buddy with the extra-dimensional entity."

The chattering of the guards pulling the chariot also didn't give her much extra confidence in their abilities.

"Why? She didn't do anything bad. There's no law forbidding being an extra-dimensional entity."

Steel Wind's retort died off as he thought about it. "Huh, I guess not. It probably never came up in the parliament."

Stalwart nodded along. "Yeah, those fools never do anything practical for us normal folk. Anyway, are you busy on Tuesdays, Anon?"

Anon looked outside the chariot at the clouds speeding by, and at the ground below, threatening the green filly with the unspoken threat of gravity.

"That depends. I might be preoccupied in the near future."

"Preoccupied?" asked the blue-coated guard. "With what?"

"Being dead," she said simply.

"Hey, I know this is all a little scary, and I don't know where you came from." The blue pegasus stallion corrected the course slightly to avoid a cloud. "But the Princess isn't like that. She wouldn't do that, ever! Even if you were secretly evil! Which, I don't think you're, but… just saying."

Steel Wind flinched as he heard the whole frame of the chariot shift and struggle in the wind. Another thing he would have to repair, great. "He's right, y'know. That's not how we do stuff over here."

Anon chuckled, bandaged front hoof close to her chest, to the searing burns there. They might believe it, but they didn't understand the full story, nor the full scale.

Deflect, no need to start an argument now.

"I was talking more about this flying piece of sadness. It can't be safe. I think I saw a few pieces fall off."

"Don't worry, this is a military-grade chariot. Nothing sturdier or more skyworthy." Stalwart reassured her, patting the poor vehicle, leaving him with a piece of railing in his hoof as the brittle wood fell apart. The guard tried to hide it behind his back with a sheepish smile.

An eternal constant across different worlds, no matter how otherwise bizarre. 'Military-grade' always meant the same: Cheap. Mass produced. And held together by duct tape, broken dreams, and the tears of whatever poor sod was charged with keeping it from falling apart.

That poor sod, in this case, being Steel Wind. "You afraid you might fall?" He inquired.

"Nah, but I'm terrified that of the sudden stop at the end of falling."

The flying nightmare of safety regulations, despite all common sense, arrived at its destination, landing on the white marble platform - and it didn't even lose a single wheel. A new record for the flying chariot.

The city of Canterlot was an impressive sight even to the jumper: its countless spires and towers reaching to the sky; the golden roofs of the palace and the exorbitant amount of white marble.

Anon didn't see much of it, sadly, as she was too busy kissing the ground.

"Thank the gods! Safety at last!"

"Hey! My flying isn't that bad," muttered Stalwart, slightly offended.

"At last!"

Steel rolled his eyes and gestured at the filly. "Okay, enough dramatics, the Princess is waiting."

The two guard-ponies led her through the winding corridor of the palace. A feeling of unease settled in her stomach. Maids and workers gave the strange trio looks before continuing on with their business.

You can handle this, you lived through worse, you can do this.

It only took a few minutes, but it felt like eternity had passed before they reached the end of the journey. The entrance was tall and foreboding before the small filly.

This could be it.

Seeing her apparent discomfort, Stalwart Shield offered her few, last words of encouragement as he opened the doors. "Don't worry. Princess Celestia is fair and kind, she wouldn't hurt a fly."

A field of ash, melted stone and sand turned to glass. This world was empty. This world was dead.

"Right..."

"Well, good luck!"

The door opened, and closed quickly behind her, leaving Anon alone in what appeared to be a private study. Bookshelves lined the walls, and a lit fireplace filled the room with warm light. A large desk sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by comfy-looking chairs.

Everything in the room screamed luxury and comfort. From the excellently made stonework, to the worn furniture that had clearly been expertly made and laboriously maintained over decades.

That furniture wasn't old, it was ripe.

She walked towards the fireplace, wondering who would feel the need for a fire in the summer.

Three large windows, plus the doors. The fire seems to be some sort of illusion, so the chimney is another possible escape route.

"The fire is heatless at her highness's wish. Our Majesty thinks that a lit fireplace brings the room together nicely."

A dignified-looking mare in glasses spoke, spooking Anon a fair bit. The filly frantically looked between the mare and the still-closed entrance.

I would swear that nobody was in here when I entered, and I didn't hear the doors move.

"Ehm, greetings. I'm… Anon."

The mare gave a small bow. "Raven Inkwell, personal assistant of Her Radiant Majesty. Pleasure to make an acquaintance."

A chair cushion squeaked as someone large moved in it, the jumper flinching as the magical presence revealed itself. This time she was sure nothing had been there a second before.

Are they… trolling me?

"Thank you Raven, that will be all."

It was Her.

The alicorn looked different from the version she had seen. Gone was the fiery mane, fangs and slitted eyes.

But the gaze remained the same. Unreadable, like if an alicorn was carved from marble. Anon felt like She was weighing, evaluating and judging her very soul, examining every nook and cranny of her heart, every little nick and jagged end left after every ordeal, all laid bare before the ancient being.

Princess Celestia, the bringer of the sun.

But the gaze softened, became something else. From the judgmental god of the old testament, who called down plagues, turned people into pillars of salt and made rivers red with blood, to something caring and motherly. Anon released a breath she didn't notice she was holding.

Whatever Celestia was looking for in her battered, craggy soul, she seemed to find it.

"You are weary." Her voice was calming, almost musical. Just hearing it felt like putting a balm on an old wound that had hurt for so long, you'd forgotten the pain was even there.

"Yeah."

Anon laughed. She had to, otherwise she would cry.

They let the silence be for a few precious moments. There was no need for words. But the respite had to end, like it always did.

"Sit down, please. Do you want tea? Chamomile. It's good for the nerves."

Anon plumped down into the comfy chair. It was too big for her, and she struggled to reach the similarly large table and see the alicorn, only her shaggy black mane and horn reaching over the edge.

"Thanks," she said, the scene eliciting a faint smile from the ancient alicorn. A teapot levitated towards a simple ceramic cup, the alicorn pouring the hot liquid into it with centuries of expertise, before the cup, too, was enveloped in gold and given to Anon.

A box filled with sugar cubes and a pair of silver tongs were offered to the green filly. "Sugar?"

"No sugar, please."

"Nonsense. Foals need their sugar."

Three cubes were lifted and dropped into the hot liquid, not a single drop escaping the cup.

"When I heard the news of a breach in the weave, I expected something… else."

"I get that a lot." Anon shrugged. "Honestly, I also expected a different welcome. You know, at spear-length, with the sharp end pointed at me? Or chains, or some other restraints. Hand, ehm, hoof-cuffs at least. I guess we both surprised each other."

"Indeed."

Enveloped in a golden aura, Anon's possessions floated into view. The jacket, the true spork, and, the infinite bandage, with the magelight orb in the forefront.

Wait, how did she get my stuff here before me? Thinking about it, I don't think I saw the guards carry it with them…

Celestia took the orb into her hoof, the artifact transforming into the shape of a diamond, its color changing until it had the same purple hue of Celestia's eyes.

Matching the one in her tiara perfectly.

"Do you know what this is, my little not-quite-a-pony?"

Anon took a sip of the tea. As she had suspected, it was excellent, if a bit too sweet for her taste.

"It's a special kind of magelight." Anon recited from memory. "Half of a pair of magical artifacts gifted to you and your sister by your birth parents, shortly before their passing. I must say, this tea is fantastic."

The alicorn gave her a courteous nod. "When I saw it, my first thought was that my magelight had somehow been stolen. And I'm still not fully convinced that it wasn't, just in a more roundabout way. This item is very… precious to me, but you seem to know that already. So how did it get to your possession?"

Anon took a deep breath. This would be the hardest part.

Having to remember Her.

"You gave it to me. Well, another you. From somewhere else."

A strange mix of emotions crossed the Princess face in a split second. Surprise, shock, and a third one Anon couldn't place.

"Our meeting, the me you encountered before. Tell me, if what you say is true…" Celestia's voice trailed off. There was a hint of anger in her tone, but not aimed at Anon. Her eyes focused on the bandages around the filly's chest. The hoof-shaped burns at the front and back, their magical signature speaking to the alicorn.

Her magic. Her actions.

"Why? Why did I burn you? What in Faust's name possessed me to do that to you?"

"Daybreaker."

The temperature in the room dropped, and the intense gaze returned, glaring right into her soul, looking for any sign of untruth.

"Your sister returned on the day of the thousandth Summer Sun Celebration. She appeared in the small town of Ponyville… and took away someone very important from you." Celestia's eyes drifted towards the windows, to an astronomy tower standing outside. "You blamed yourself. The rage, the power… you didn't hold anything back."

"Did anypony-"

"No, no-one. Nothing was left."

Anon took another sip. The princess did the same, her cup shaking slightly, just enough for the jumper to notice.

"You are not scared of me." Celestia said. "Not even after what you saw, after what I did. To Equestria, to Equus… to you."

The filly let the nostalgic taste of the tea wash over her, bringing back fond memories from a much simpler time.

"I came to that place, to that reality, the same way I arrived here. As a drifter, an unwelcome quest coming through. A jumper."

She wouldn't cry. That's just how it was, the way things were.

"You… you were lonely. The rage burned and burned until there was nothing left. And after that… there was just a hollow pit of sorrow. Not even bodies left to grieve over."

Breathe, in and out.

The princess extended her wings, the great canopy of snow white feathers hovering above Anon for a moment, trembling slightly before retreating.

"And I just fell right into your… her hooves. The only living thing she'd seen for decades. And she just…"

The princess watched her intently, her features unreadable.

"She let me go."

Anon frowned.

"No, she didn't just let me go, she prepared me, gave me everything she had left. I couldn't survive in that place. Not for long anyway. Daybreaker let me go. I… She could have used me as her ticket out of that hell, free herself from the prison of her own making, but she let me go."

She laughed, a bitter cold laugh. "Do you want to know the only thing she asked of me?" Her gaze drifted downwards, her voice a whisper. " A hug. That was all she wanted - to, for just a moment - stop being alone."

Anon's throat tightened, she gulped the last of the tea down. "She… she isn't lonely anymore."

Green eyes met purple, nothing but raw honesty and barely-held tears filling them.

"I don't fear you, Celestia. Definitely not as much as I should. I saw you at your worst, the most horrible version of you. And you helped me. You… You still had good left in you."

Celestia waited, weighing her words, but Anon was done. The hardest part was said. Now, she just had to deal with the consequences. A great weight was lifted off her shoulders.

"You came here for a reason, you still expected restraints and abuse, yet you came here willingly.

The filly placed the cup back on the table carefully. "I have a message to you. From Daybreaker, just in case I ever met another you," she answered, trying to remember the exact wording, just in case it was important somehow. "Teach your student teleportation properly… that's straight forward I think. The second one is kinda cryptic."

"Cryptic?"

"Check Star Swirl's last mirror."

Princess Celestia's expression drifted slowly, from shame to… sadness. "Tell me, what do you want, young one who lost their name. More than anything."

That was a simple question for Anon. She worked on it for the three past years of her life, the only goal she was left with.

"To return home. It's the journey I'm on. It… it's hard, but It's the only thing I wish for. Seeing home again."

The answer hung in the air, stifling and heavy.

"So, what do you plan to do with me?" Anon asked.

Celestia sighed. "That's the question, isn't it? You are not a danger to my ponies. I see that clearly. Right now, you are a foal. An abandoned filly with no pony who would look out for her." The princess gave Anon a genuine smile. "I offer you a deal. Mutually beneficial one."

A deal?

"Well, speak."

"You will assume the role of an adopted filly in the town of Ponyville. I even have the ideal pair of parents already picked. Keep your true identity secret of course."

Anon's mind raced, as much as she didn't like the idea of having to fool some strangers into caring for her by lying and having to pretend to be another age, it would allow her to heal from all her injuries and preferably fully charge her powers. And she could always get away if things got bad.

"Okay, where's the catch?"

"There are five very special mares in that town, with a sixth joining them soon. Keep. Them. Safe."

Anon stared at the alicorn, her expression speaking for itself.

It said: Dafuq?

"You want me, while stuck as a literal child, to become a secret bodyguard?!"

Celestia smirked. "Isn't it genius? Nopony would ever suspect that."

"Of course no one would suspect that, because it's stupid!"

The now full-on grin on the princess' face did not falter at that little remark. "You will have to keep it discreet. Those five mares hold the secret to a better ending for us all. But one cannot force fate, just… nudge it along."

"And how the fuck im I supposed to do that?"

Celestia waved her wing.

"Use your powers, I'm sure that somepony with the ability to stop time and manipulate gravity will find a way."

"How do you even-" she stopped herself. This was Celestia after all. She had her methods.

This is insanity! Celestia should gather all available forces to defend against Nightmare Moon, not do whatever this is!

But this… plan also afforded her quite the opportunity.

Nightmare will appear in Ponyville first…

Anon made a plan, a plan insane enough that it might actually work.

"I accept, but first. If I'm to infiltrate your society. It would be good to know something about it."

The princess nodded. "That's reasonable. What would you want to know first?"

"Okay, for starters, what's with the bum tattoos?"

"Was that wise a move your highness?" Raven asked in the privacy of the Princess study. Their new asset is already on the train to Ponyville with her newly forged false identity in hoof.

It turns out that when you are the head of the government, forging documents is very easy.

Celestia sat by her table, reviewing papers, plans and schemes. Everything has been set to motion.

"She spoke the truth, Raven. She didn't even attempt to lie. Anon has no ill intention against Equestria or its citizens. And with what I gleaned from her soul… she deserves a break Raven. To be happy."

"And what off her warnings?"

Celestia put down her quill. "That's not how dimension hopping works. The existence of those other realities has no bearing on how probable are the possibilities in them to occur. The chance our plan fails remains the same, only now the price of failure was fully revealed."

The seneschal raised an eyebrow. "If that's so your highness, then why have you spent the last several hours changing your daily schedule to include Lady Twilight's advanced teleportation lessons? Or requesting to have the ex-captain of the guard brought back from retirement to give your student private PE lessons, which are definitely not in any way poorly disguised training regimens?"

The princess gave the gray mare a sheepish smile. "It pays to be careful."

"You say that, your majesty," the seneschal said. "And yet you are leaving an extra dimension entity roam free without supervision."

This time, Celestia chuckled. "I said nothing about not keeping an eye out for her, did I? Be so kind and prepare the transmission array. Agent Sweetie Drops just got a new assignment."

"I'm sure she and her… Honey Bunny will relish the chance."

"And be our guest's new adopted family."

Author's Note

Sorry for the wait, but this chapter was very hard to write. Hopefully I succeeded where I wanted it to, but that's out of my hands now.

Planning for weekly updates from now on. Enjoy!

Also kudos to PseudoBob Delightus for accepting to proofread this story, you can probably expect some improvement in the future chapters.

Chapter Five: Found A Safe Shore

Everypony has a secret. A side of them not revealed to anypony, be it their family or friends. A part of them forever hidden from sight and scrutiny.

Equestria, the land embodying the ideals of harmony. Even here, in the era of peace and prosperity, there are those who must put on a mask and hide their true selves for the sake of others. A group of dedicated individuals who wage a secret, eternal battle against those who would wish harm upon the innocent. Unseen and unsung, these brave ponies deal with dangers unimaginable. Monsters from beyond the veil, long forgotten artifacts of great power, warlocks using forbidden magics and the worst of all.

Bureaucracy.

Bon Bon, on a first and all subsequent looks, appears as nothing more than your average confectioner. An unassuming earth pony mare, living in the small town of Ponyville.

Just as she wants you.

Agent Sweetie Drops, alias Bon Bon, call sign BB. A mare of a thousand faces, able to blend into any background and pass without notice. The best of the best, sent to Ponyville in advance of Operation Harmony. Her new mission may be the most difficult and arduous of all.

Taking care of Anon.

The Ponyville train station was a busy place in the last few days, bursting at the seams with the huge number of ponies coming to witness Princess Celestia raise the sun. The Summer Sun Celebration was in two weeks and anypony wishing to see it rushed to the town before all the inns were filled to capacity.

Most ponies would dislike standing in such a crowded space. Most ponies weren’t Agent Sweetie Drops, who couldn’t hope for a better place to hide in plain view.

Yet there were some complications with that.

“I can't believe this is actually happening!” Lyra squealed, cupping her partner's face in her hooves and yelling at the top of her lungs. “We are going to adopt!”

She gently diverted Lyra's hoofs away from her muzzle so she could speak. “Technically, we are only fostering, not full on adopting.”

“We are going to foster! Yay!”

She chuckled. Despite her own thoughts on the situation, seeing Lyra so happy never failed to make her smile. She was always quite open about her wish to have a foal one day. And while Bon Bon, the confectioner, wasn't opposed to the idea, Sweetie Drops, the secret agent, would sadly stand in the way of that dream.

Or at least that's what she thought until today.

Then the new mission details came.

“Bonnie, are you alright?”

Sometimes it was scary how well her marefriend was able to read her emotions, despite hers, what would most ponies call, scatterbrained nature.

“No… I'm worried.”

That was a beautiful understatement. She felt like a hive of angry, psychopathic hornets made from acid were stuck under skin. Just thinking about the mission dossier left her wanting to kick an unnamed famous cake eater's flank.

An extra-dimensional entity was supposed to crash at her house for over a month?!

The mission statement was equally confusing: make Anon safe and comfortable.

The Boss did not share much detail beyond that. Other than the physical features of the entity, her identity as some sort of traveler, with strange, mostly unknown powers supposedly able to affect spacetime. The lack of information did very little to assuage her fears.

Lyra pulled her into a tight hug. “Don't be worried! You are going to do great! I know it!”

She let herself be embraced, for a moment. “Thank you, but remember what we spoke about.”

Lyra rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you had me read through the whole stupid file. Remember?”

The Anonymous file was truly an exquisite creation of the fine art of making stuff up. Made mostly to serve as an explanation for the entity's strange behaviors and lack of general knowledge.

“I mean, a foal smuggling ring in Equestria. It's hard to believe.”

Bon Bon sagely nodded while fighting an urge to cringe. Whoever made the file may have gone just a tad overboard. “Right.” she said. “It's just… You can be quite the hoof-ful at first, Lyra. We want to make a good impression and not spook them.”

Lyra gave her a quick salute. “Don't worry, commander Bon Bon! This here soldier will be at her best behavior!” her smile faltered slightly. “But seriously, I want this to go over smoothly. This is going to be so great!”

The secret agent felt her heart flutter. Lyra was so determined for so long to make this happen, and now they finally got a chance. She wouldn't stop gushing about it from the minute the letter informing them of the filly's arrival landed in their mail box.

And it was all a lie.

The letter was a forgery, if a forgery made by the head of government still counts as a forgery. It wasn't the mailmare who delivered the letter, but her who planted it in there for Lyra to find.

She was a secret agent, Sweetie Drops told herself. The mission always came before her, or her relationships. Bon Bon can love Lyra all she wants, but Sweetie Drops must always put the mission first. It was a dumb move to fall for Lyra, even dumber to actually start dating her.

Dating civilians wasn't banned by the agency, only discouraged. Her relationship with Lyra undoubtedly made her job harder. And yet… she couldn't bring herself to see it as a mistake. No matter what.

But this mission affected Lyra directly, robbed her marefriend of one of her dreams and gave her a pretense instead. Guilt settled itself in her gut, whispering treachery to the earth pony.

Lyra gave her a strange look, before whipping her head around as the whistle of an arriving train sounded through the station. “Is that the train?”

It was. Sweetie Drops memorized all the train schedules in preparation. Second-to last-wagon, seat number forty one, the entity was probably going to exit by using the doors in the middle.

In a wave of bodies, all exiting the train and hurrying away, a small, green filly hopped carefully onto the platform, one front leg held close to her bandaged chest.

She would call herself Anon, but to these ponies, she would have to become someone, no, somepony else. Tabula rasa, a fresh start.

Spring Break.

What the hell.

Anon would facepalm again, but learned from her first attempt that a fast impact of hoof to face isn't exactly pleasurable, so the filly made do with the feeling of extreme exasperation.

For a being with a thousand years of experience, Celestia sure is bad at naming stuff. At least it explains how places named Ponyville or Fillydelphia are allowed to exist.

Two familiar royal guards accompanied her, Stalwart huffing and puffing as he carried her new saddlebags.

Not only did she get all her possessions back, but Anon also received all the little convenient items that you don't miss until you have to live without them. From a toothbrush to a blanket and the saddlebags.

And also a few other things she had… borrowed from the palace.

It's not like they will miss them. They have storage rooms filled with those. Just gathering dust.

Her eyes started to search for the pair of ponies that were to become her “guardians” for the next few weeks.

She saw them almost immediately, a unicorn mare holding up a sign with Anon's fake name and gesturing wildly next to a beige earth pony.

"Looks like this is where we part ways,” she said to the guards.

Steel Wind gave a single nod towards the waiting due. "Yup, sure looks like it. Have a good time. I'm hitting the hay."

Stalwart placed the saddlebags on the ground with a loud *clang*. "Enjoy Ponyville! And, if you get into trouble, don't be afraid to look for us. We are stationed here for a few weeks, by the mayor's office!"

"Got it."

And with that, the guards took off into the sky. Leaving her alone to stand around on the platform, surrounded by a sea of strangers.

Around her, ponies continued, swarming and moving, the murmur of their conversation turning into a cacophony of sound. Her heart began to race. The smells and sights blurring together, attacking from all sides. Giving her no space to breathe.

Encircled! I need to find cover! Fast before-

“Hello there!”

A voice snapped her back to reality. “You must be Spring Break!” the unicorn said, offering a hoof. Anon gave her a deadpan look, raising the bandaged foreleg. “...Well this is awkward.”

“Lyra!” a beige earth pony trotted onto the scene. “Don’t bolt on me like that!”

Lyra gave a bashful smile and pulled the mare closer. “Sorry Bonnie, I just couldn't help myself.”

Bon Bon gave a sigh and nuzzled her partner back. “It's okay, just try and have some patience in the future, yes?”

Anon coughed, less in the usual way of clearing one's throat and more in the ‘this is getting uncomfortable, have you forgotten that i'm standing right here’ way. “So you are Lyra Heartstrings and Bon Bon?”

The duo scrambled to straighten themself, blushing furiously as they did. “Ehm, yes. Nice meet you,” attempted the earth pony mare.

“Likewise.”

The building tension in the air was quickly dissipated by Lyra jumping into action. “Now Spring, it's time to show you around Ponyville! Are you excited?”

Anon shrugged. “I guess. Aren't we first going to your house? I kinda want to lie down for a bit…”

In truth, Anon was exhausted, talking with Celestia late into the night and only getting some sleep on the train ride to here. Most of her brain power was devoted to trying to keep the facts of her false history straight.

“We wanted to give you a tour and go shopping while we are at it,” Bon Bon explained. “We could use it to get to know each other a little.”

Anon's saddle bags floated into the air, enveloped in an amber aura, and landed on the unicorn's back, who nearly fell under the weight, until Bon Bon grabbed them in her mouth and threw them over her shoulder like it was nothing.

“Ouch, thanks Bonnie,” said Lyra. “Also, we have absolutely nothing to eat back home other than sweets.”

“That too,” Bon Bon admitted. “The news was very sudden.”

Anon's mouth started to water. She did have a generous breakfast of pancakes at the palace and wasn't hungry yet, but the idea of living in the same house as someone who owned a candy shop and all the sweet sugary goodness they must have stashed was enough.

“I see nothing wrong with eating sweets for lunch.”

“I think you will get along with Bonnie just okay,” Lyra chuckled. “But we are definitely getting a real lunch. Sugar is important for a foal, but everything in moderation.”

Bon Bon glanced at the watchtower and its clock. “And we have absolutely no reason to hurry at all.”

Anon brows arched. The way she said it, there was some secret meaning in it, but what? Before she had time to ponder the hidden meaning of the statement, the two mares already turned to walk towards the town proper.

“Come on, Spring! Onwards to town!”

Anon took a deep breath. Let's see what grim fate awaits me this time.

The town of Ponyville, even with all of its rustic beauty, colorful banners for the upcoming festival, and quirky architecture, was far from the strangest or most beautiful places the jumper visited.

And yet, slowly walking down the cobblestone road, encountering nothing but friendly faces and tail ends of pleasant conversations as they were interrupted to say hello or good day to her companions, elicited an eerie feeling in the filly.

It simply wasn’t natural, the sheer amount of happiness around her.

Ponies hugging and nuzzling each other, families and friends laughing together, the simple chatter between merchants and their customers.

And when they saw her, a foal wrapped in enough bandages to make one think she came back from the dead to hunt down Brendan Fraser, they looked on her with pity and concern.

So Lyra’s continuous blabbering served as a great distraction from the unwelcome attention.

“And this is the Carousel Boutique! We could get you a nice dress there if you wan’t.”

Anom hummed to herself, thinking. A new dress did not interest her much, but somebody capable of repairing her old jacket would be appreciated. This sounded as close to a tailor as she would get.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you?” offered Bon Bon. The mare was slowly getting buried under more and more bags of groceries.

Anon shook her head, preferring to walk her good three legs. Another building, this one looking like a gingerbread house, caught her eye.

“Over there is the Quills and Sofas and-”

“What’s that one?” She interrupted Lyra’s tour guide speech.

Lyra followed her gaze to the diabetes giving building. “Oh, that's Sugarcube Corner. The best bakery in all of Ponyville!”

The earth pony looked up from where she was buying, stacks of golden coins exchanging hoofs for a bag of vegetables. “It's the only bakery in Ponyville, Honey.”

Unless those are some very good vegetables, my guess about gold having a different value was correct.

“My point still stands!”

“Can we go in?” Anon asked. “I could go for some baked goods…”

The bakery may have reminded Anon of a certain fairy tale, but by her calculations, the probability of finding cake highly outweighed the possibility of a flesh-eating witch hiding inside.

I mean, what’s the chance of that happening a second time?

Lyra sadly killed her vission of the soft, sweet goodness lying ahead. “No, it's closed right now. They are off to… prepare something.”

Anon sighed. The dream of cake escaping her grasp once again.

“Howdy Bon Bon, the usual?”

The accented speech rang a bell in Anon's mind.

The orange mare standing behind a stall was instantly recognizable. Applejack, the farm-pony who saved her life and also one of the mare's she was tasked with protecting.

“Yes, but could you double it?”

The mare bagged the merchandise, Anon staring at the finesse with the mare handled the apples, with hooves no less. “Double the usual? That's a lot of apples.” Applejack asked. “You makin’ taffy apples for the festival?”

Bon Bon shook her head. “Not this year. Applejack, I like you to meet somepony. This is Spring Break.”

That was her cue.

She put on a smile; it was in her best interest to look cute and endearing. Her cover story should do a lot to help build sympathy.

I really should have taken those acting classes when I had the chance.

“Hello ma’am. I believe we have met briefly before.”

A brief flash of recognition flashed on Applejack’s face. “Howdy, it‘s good to see that you are alright.” With an ease that still kept Anon awed, she grabbed and tossed it into the nearly full bag. “On the house for ya.”

“Thanks ma’am!”

“Ah shush. And it's just Applejack, not ma’am. I’m not gray like Granny Smith yet.” She leaned towards the two mares and lowered her voice so it was harder for Anon to hear. “So she lives with you now?” The pair looked at each other before nodding quickly. “And her folks?”

Lyra shook her head.

“Ah see… “ Applejack looked at the green filly inspecting a perfectly red and flawless apple, sitting together in a bushel with its similarly perfect siblings, her voice solem. “Take care, she will need it.”

Bon Bon threw one more bag on her back. “What’s on the program now?”

“Now it's time to get lunch!”

Anon found herself in a predicament.

Which, to be fair, happened often. Though normally the predicaments she had to solve involved explosions, wild chases, giant monsters with more teeth than the whole Osmond Family, and a risk of dying horribly.

And less this…

The restaurant they chose for their lunch was more of a cafe than a true restaurant. Seated outside, the three ponies soon received the menu from a unicorn stallion with a mustache who Anon would describe as ‘unbelievably posh.’

And here stemmed the source of Anon's trouble.

“Having trouble deciding?” asked Lyra.

Anon looked over the menu again in a vain attempt to see if the universe decided to change the unreadable horse-related hieroglyphs into anything resembling coherent writing.

“In a sense,” she answered honestly. “I don't understand any of it.”

It took a few moments but a light bulb lit above Lyra’s head as the realization hit, “You can't read?”

“I can't read Equish. I understand the griffon script just fine.”

That was true. It was in her long conversation with Celestia where she learned about the different scripts used by the numerous races living on Equus, the name of this world. The griffon script was close enough for her to read and understand. Though it did little to raise her spirit.

She always disliked kurrentschrift.

“Hmm, that could be an issue.” Bon Bon trailed off.

Anon couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Out of all the things she was worried about, academic pursuits were about the last thing on that long list. Most knowledge assembled here would immediately become obsolete the second she jumped into another world branch. The only things worth remembering would be things that might potentially become a constant between realities, which writing rarely ever was.

“I'm sure I will be okay, I learn fast.”

Lyra smiled and pulled her chair closer to Anons, looking over the filly’s shoulder to read the menu for her. “And I'm sure you will! Anyway, do you like daffodils?”

She did, it turned out. Looking back, she might have been too picky with the plants she could eat in this body. If other flowers tasted anything like this, that was a missed opportunity! There were these blue ones she saw in the forest, those could make a good snack.

As she ate her sandwich, it struck her how… normal this scene was. Just three people eating at a restaurant.

There were ponies at other tables, the waiter running between them, balancing orders in his magic. Some of the other customers looked at her, but quickly diverted their gaze when she whipped her head around and returned the favor. Her ears swiveled towards every noise.

A fly flew around the table, a wasp was trying to get into an empty glass of juice. A gray pegasus mare laughed at a joke told by a stallion with a hourglass cutie mark. There were crumbs of the sandwich, stuck on the fine hair of her muzzle.

She started to smell smoke.

Bon Bon said something to her, but the words slurred together, nothing more than just another noise in the pile.

“Excuse me, I… I need to use the toilet.”

Anon got up. The smell of smoke got stronger. She tasted iron in her mouth - bit her cheek too hard, didn't even notice. Everything was numb, drowned out by the barrage of upcoming signals.

Walking through the restaurant, she entered the tiled white room. Bathroom. Found an empty stall and opened the doors, her movement jerky and robotic. She sat on the floor, back against the wall, only focusing on her breathing.

And then the dam broke.

The filly curled into a ball, whole body trembling and shaking.

What the hell are you doing?! Why were you listening to that Celestia? Why are you trusting anybody? Why are you still here, trying to help these people? Why are you going along with this ridiculous plan? Thinking you can be a difference. A hero?

She started sobbing.

You are a cheat, a fraud. A no-good fake.

A coward.

Everything was wrong. The world was wrong. Fuzzy and unfocused and blurry and-

Not the world.

You.

Her leg went through the floor, reality slowly breaking around her.

An uncontrolled phasing.

Anon stopped. Eyes narrowed, every ounce of her being behind singular purpose. Years of practice and trials weighed against her emotional turmoil.

And ever so slowly, reality started to right itself. Her resolve won.

She took a deep breath, still shaken. Questions whirling in her mind. Why now? She made it through things so much worse, but she starts breaking now that she finally caught a break?

Steel yourself, the real danger is still yet to come. You cannot give up now.

She got up, like she always did in the end. It could be worse. It always can be worse.

And on cue, Lyra knocked on the door.

Anon didn’t know what to expect when she opened the door, she didn’t know what to expect of the future most of the time.

But whatever were her expectations, they didn’t matter much, as she wouldn’t be ready, anyway.

Concern.

From the nurse, she could accept it. It was her job to care. But this was a stranger. An unknown.

Unknown in Anon’s personal dictionary usually meant something that wanted to turn her skin into shoes.

“I’m sorry.”

Even less she could understand the apologies. What were they sorry for? That she had a mental break in the bathroom of a restaurant?

“It’s not your fault,” Anon tried to reassure the unicorn mare, who herself looked almost on the verge of crying, her head hung low and ears pinned to her skull.

Lyra continued. “We should have paid more attention. You said you just wanted to lie down, and we dragged you through the entire town and-”.

“You didn’t drag me anywhere,” Anon said sternly. “I cried a little. That's all. Nothing to get worked up about.”

Her speech did little to alleviate the concerns of the mares. Bon Bon reached a hoof to Anon, only for the filly to evade it. “Are you really okay?”

“Yeah, I just… don’t do well with crowds.”

They arrived at a house not dissimilar from its neighbors, except this one was darkened, its windows shut, the structure immersed in foreboding silence. An alarm bell rang in Anon's head, her carefully honed survival instinct screaming at the filly.

You are being paranoid after you broke down. Don’t make another scene.

Bon Bon stopped, a puzzled look on her face. “Haven’t we forgotten something important?”

Lyra shrugged. “If it's important, we are going to remember later.” She opened the doors and entered the darkened house. Anon following in close.

Bon Bon staggered. Realization hitting like a speeding train.

“Oh no,” she whispered, eyes wide. Too late to do anything.

“SURPRISE!”

Author's Note

Here we go again.

Changed the formatting a little, lets see how it goes. Thank you all for all the beautiful comments, they make my day everytime.

See ya next week.

proofread by the great and humble PseudoBob Delightus.

Chapter Six: And A Place To Call Home

The circumstances leading to the next few moments depended heavily on several factors.

When Anon opened the doors, she ignored her growing feeling of unease, chalking her nervousness up to the fact she was still calming down from her panic attack.

Lyra and Bon Bon had both forgotten about the Surprise Welcome Party™ as they both still had a lot in their heads concerning the little green filly. One was anxious, the other was too busy trying to solve the puzzle that was the anomalous entity.

And Pinkie Pie was Pinkie Pie.

“SUR-”

It would be an apt description of not only Anon's ability, but also personality, to call her jumpy. So when she was presented with a potential weapon, the filly did not hesitate in taking it, and when something spooked her - for example, a bunch of ponies suddenly yelling out loud from a darkened room - her reaction was a little… extreme.

All of that to say, there was now a stolen butter-knife sailing through the air towards Pinkie Pie.

"-PRISE!"

*Thunk*

Luckily for Pinkie, throwing a knife with hooves is rather difficult, and she rarely ever stays still.

The knife embedded itself into the wall next to Pinkie Pie's head; the blade making a metallic ringing sound before becoming as still as the shocked onlookers.

Anon didn't have time to observe the room falling into a stunned silence, as she became a victim of an unfortunate fact of equine quadruped biology.

She used a front leg to throw the knife.

Her other front leg was, at the moment, non-functional.

In conclusion; she had no frontal support, and she quickly found herself at risk of planting her face firmly on the floor, while all too aware that using her powers in front of this many people would be a disaster, maybe even a bigger disaster than the accidental attempted murder.

Something caught her, causing her body to seize up. A beige-furred hoof gripped her shoulder, the burns on it protesting briefly.

That's it, I’ve been here for three hours tops and I already screwed up.

It was in a rare moment of absolute clarity, often experienced by those seeing their demise approach, that Anon recognised the pink menace walking towards her.

Pinkamena Diane Pie, another one of the mysterious mares she was supposed to protect. Part of the task given to her by the near-immortal alicorn of the Sun.

And she had nearly skewered her with a butter knife.

Celestia is going to kill me if she finds out.

The pink mare approached, a large smile plastered on her face. No doubt a bad sign for Anon's continuous existence.

"Thank you!"

… What?!?

The words said by Pinkie Pie reached Anon's ears, then they traveled into her brain. The enigmatic words found a roadblock there, the place all but empty, except for a giant neon sign.

It read: Closed for percussive maintenance.

"That mosquito nearly got me!"

"M-mosquito?" stammered out Bon Bon.

Pinkie Pie gave an enthusiastic nod, bouncing in circles around the three confused ponies. "Yup! Mosquitoes are dangerous. Did you know that they’re responsible for more pony deaths than any other animals? It's the evil, evil diseases they carry! They are no fun at all, like, not even a little! But Springy here, can I call you Springy? Springy saw it and was like, whoosh and kablam! And now it's gone! She basically saved my life!"

Anon saw it, under the tip of the butter knife: a mosquito, cut in half. The diabolical insect had almost landed on the pink pony.

Anon's own confusion was matched by that felt by her new caretakers and the entire crowd of partygoers, who did the first thing that came to mind when dealing with the town's party pony.

Smile, nod, pretend to understand, and question nothing.

It was better this way for everypony involved.

"You are… welcome I guess?" muttered Anon.

The grin on Pinkie Pie's face seemed to widen beyond its already absurd dimensions. The pink pony clapped her hooves together, the unspoken signal waking up the crowd from its stupor and back to whatever they were doing before the incident.

"Time to start this party!!!"

Anon watched as the surrounding ponies got back to their partying, acting like one of their number hadn’t come this close to having a knife in their throat.

"Is this normal around here?" she asked.

Bon Bon gave her a flat look. "Do you really want to know?"

Lyra waved her off. "It’s just Pinkie being Pinkie.”

"I'm going to put these in the pantry," said Bon Bon, lifting their shopping. "But we are going to have a serious conversation about this later, Spring."

While the earth pony vanished into the house. Lyra scooted closer to Anon’s side. "Are you doing alright? If the party is too much, we can cancel it. I'm sure Pinkie wouldn't mind.. too much. Probably.”

The offer was tempting. Anon continued to stand in the doorway, already feeling a serious headache coming. But she had to do it. Play her part, gather intel and allies. If she was to protect those mares, keep her identity secret, and enact her plan against Nightmare Moon, she would need all the help she could get.

And she wouldn't get anywhere by hiding.

Look for possible escape routes, keep close to at least one. When anything bad happens… improvise.

"No, let's go and… try to have fun?”

Anon looked around. It came to her that she couldn't remember the last time she had been to a party, much less as a horse child, so she wasn't very clear on the rules.

Lyra gave her a reassuring smile. "Remember, I'm with you."

It did little to calm Anon down, but she appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

Pinkie Pie had appropriated most of the first floor, that being the living room and the kitchen. Anon decided to ignore the game of pin the tail on the pony and the improvised dancing floor for the time being, her eyes locked onto the table brimming with snacks.

“Hey there, squirt. You’re the new foal, right?”

Anon craned her neck upwards, to a blue pegasus mare, lazily hanging in the air. “You got some moves, where’d ya learn them? Are your parents guards or something?”

The filly recognized the pegasus instantly; it was Rainbow Dash, the head of Ponyville’s weather team and another one of the mystery mares she was supposed to protect.

She had to come up with something fast, otherwise her cover might be blown. The gears in her head spun at maximum speed.

“PE Class.”

Which wasn’t very fast, sadly.

Rainbow raised an eyebrow, the filly giving her a blank, unflinching stare. “PE class?”

She nodded, lying through her teeth. “Yes, real extreme PE classes.”

Their eyes met. One heartbeat, two heartbeats. Anon tensed up, readying herself to run for the doors.

“Huh, neat.”

Anon relaxed, the moment of tension over. She was now free to continue her odyssey to the snacks table.

Lyra meanwhile glared at the multicolored mare. "Dash, I need to speak to you for a second."

“Ehm, sure?”

She shrugged, landing next to the unicorn. Lyra ushered her to the kitchen where fewer ponies could overhear, closing the door behind her.

“Kay, what do ya need? Hey-”

A hoof grabbed her, pulling Dash closer to Lyra, who was almost growling at the weather pony. "Do you even know what you just did?”

Dash jumped back, taking a second to shake the shock. She had never seen Lyra so… angry before. “Okay, okay! Chill down! What’s got you so worked up? I just talked to the kid!”

“You asked about her parents, Dash!” Lyra exclaimed, like it explained the situation perfectly.

Rainbow blinked a few times, “And?”

“She’s an orphan! You were reminding her of bad memories!”

Rainbow Dash only gave a wide-eyed stare, the slow creeping realization finally sinking in. The fuming unicorn was still glaring daggers at her.

Only one response would suffice.

“Horseapples.”

Dash then paused. “Hey, you think she was lying about the PE thing?”

“Rainbow!”

“Sorry," she shrugged. "I just thought she was your visiting cousin or something.”

Lyra gave her a look more commonly reserved for cats who inexplicably get stuck in hard to reach places.

“Cousin," she deadpanned. "Dash, I don't speak to my family, you know that.” She sighed. “Cousin? Really?”

Sweat poured from the athletic pony, who was feeling like she was taking a test she hadn’t studied for.

“Well, I mean," Dash scratched the back of her neck nervously. The metaphorical teacher was now glancing over her shoulder and loudly reminding the entire class to read the questions carefully. "You’re both unicorns, and you’re both green… okay, it sounds pretty bad when I say it out loud.”

Aaand she got an F and died. The end.

Lyra sighed again. “Dash, did you not read the invitation?”

“There was an invitation?" Rainbow asked. "I just heard Pinkie Pie yell about a welcome party and followed the trail of confetti here.”

“Rainbow, we are fostering Spring for a time, before a proper adoption process can begin.”

Adoption was a somewhat contentious matter in some circles. With the gender balance being heavily skewed towards mares, and not everypony liking the idea of herds, adoption was one of the few ways for many families to have a foal. Sadly, this method had a myriad of setbacks.

There were very few orphaned foals with no relatives who would take them in, and as a result there was only one orphanage in all of Equestria: the Canterlot Orphanage, overseen by Celestia herself.

In its four hundred years of existence, it had never been filled to capacity. The list of potential adoptive parents was miles long and the chance of adopting was slim for most of them.

To be chosen as one of them was to be hoof-picked from hundreds of candidates, and it was even common for the Princess to be part of the selecting committee.

Being an adoptive parent was a rare privilege, an easily lost privilege at that.

“Oh, congratulations, I guess,” said Rainbow.

“Congratulations?!” Lyra spat. “It's only been a day and I'm already exhausted. So far it has been one giant catastrophe after catastrophe!” Lyra’s ears dropped, her voice barely a whisper. “I wonder if… If I have it in me. Maybe I… I shouldn’t have tried in the first place."

Lyra knew she wouldn't get another opportunity like this. If she messed this up, that was her one chance to be a mother - gone.

And she had done nothing but mess it up the whole day!

They were supposed to only foster Spring Break. The ponies in charge deemed it important for Spring to spend time in a safe family environment instead of the orphanage. After all, despite all the caring ponies and resources available there, it wasn't a home.

Ultimately, it was about what the foal wanted and what made them happy. The officials in charge may spend a month selecting the eligible ponies for adoption, but if by that time, Spring wanted to stay with Bon Bon and Lyra? Well, she could. There would be some more obstacles, but the chance at least became tangible.

But the filly wouldn’t want to stay with them. Not after all the stupid mistakes she had made. What a screw up, as always! Lyra felt tears swell in her eyes.

Her one chance was gone, and she made poor Spring suffer for her mistakes. What kind of horrible monster was she? Selfish and cruel and-

“Lyra? Lyra!” Confusion morphed into concern as Dash watched the unicorn shake like a leaf in a thunderstorm. “Listen to my voice. Take deep breaths and count to five for me, okay? In and out, in and out. Just breathe.”

Lyra nodded, doing as the pegasus instructed, the panic slowly going away, bit by bit with each breath.

Rainbow offered her a hoof to help her stand back up, she gladly took it.

“Better?”

Lyra nodded. “Yes, thank you. Wow, you are good at this.”

Dash shot her a cocky grin. “Of course I am, I can’t be awesome in just one way. This pegasus is made from pure, all around awesomeness, y’know?” She hoofbumbed her chest, but let her grin drop for a second. “But seriously, I’ve been friends with Fluttershy since flight school. I kinda learned a thing or two for her.”

Lyra giggled, feeling a little better. Maybe she could do this after all, become the mother Spring Break needed her to be.

“So, I know this is probably a bad time,” said Rainbow. “But where is Spring?”

A scream rang out in the living room.

The scream of little fillies.

“... Horseapples.”

Glorious sweets! Fall to me!

Successfully sneaking up to the table after Lyra dragged Rainbow away, Anon now basked in the glory of her prize. Be it scones, cupcakes, or muffins; all would be hers!

I'm so going to regret this tomorrow.

Stuffing her face as much as physically possible may not have been a wise move, considering her track record with food given to her by suspiciously generous hosts, but it just tasted so good! Each bite was a symphony of flavor on her tongue.

Man, I will be so pissed if I find out the pie is people or something.

Throwing caution to the wind, she indulged herself, forgetting her worries for a second. Maybe it was people, but she would deal with that later.

Nope, just cherry you silly filly!

She froze, crumbs falling off her muzzle, eyes frantically searching for the source of a sudden voice.

Da fuck was that?

Her gaze panned over a snow-white mare, with an elegant mane and a pretty dress, the only other pony wearing a dress in the room was a filly standing next to the mare.

"Just say hello" said Rarity, the proprietor of Carousel Boutique, one more on the list of ponies to protect.

"Do I have to?" pleaded Sweetie Belle to her sister, pawing at the hardwood, apparently trying to hide herself by digging a hole through the floor.

"It's proper! And a good way to make friends."

Sweetie Bell cut a quick look at the green filly, attacking the snack table with a fervor rivaling Pinkie Pie. There wasn't even any of the usual food gore being thrown around. Every plate was cleaned to perfection.

"Are you sure, Rarity?" she asked.

Anon grabbed a slice of pie in her magic, her jaw seemingly unhinged and she swallowed it whole.

Rarity shivered. "Well, her table manners need some work, but I think that's excusable considering the circumstances."

Anon watched the scene with slight amusement. Her ability to eat like ‘a goddamn barbarian’ won her so many bets in the past. It was one of the few things that made her special before her jumping escapades began. She once won twenty bucks by swallowing a chili pepper whole.

It had not been worth it.

Her amusement turned to dread as the filly approached her, Rarity in tow.

“Ehm, hello?” said Sweetie Belle, turning back at her sister, hoping that the attempt at social interaction appeased her enough to end the torture. Unfortunately for her, Rarity gestured at her to continue. “… You enjoying the party?”

Anon shrugged. “It’s okay. The food is great.”

“Yeah.”

Sweetie Belle evidently found something very interesting on her own hoof, while Anon started contemplating if being eaten by the timberwolves in the forest would have been preferable to this.

Sweetie Belle's face lit up - with the eagerness of a shipwrecked sailor finding land after three weeks on a lifeboat, she jumped at her first idea for a conversation topic. “So how did you get all the bandages?”

Anon thought about it, the ponies at the hospital, as well as Applejack would probably know of her escapades in the woods, so lying wasn’t an option. “Got chased by weird wooden wolves in the forest. I escaped, but, well, not uscathed.”

Sweetie Belle gasped. “You've been to the Everfree!?”

“Yes, I was only there for a few days and the plants already tried to eat me, the-”

“You've been in the Everfree for DAYS?!”

Anon heard a feminine yelp. Behind Sweetie Bell, Rarity had collapsed into a couch she would swear wasn't there just a second ago. At first she was considering helping the mare, but then she noticed the overly-dramatic posture and the fact that Rarity was not so subtly correcting her mane which got into her face when she ‘fell’.

“Nice chat, but I think your sister just fainted, see ya.”

“Rarity!”

She slipped past the speeding filly, thinking. So far, in a single day, she had met most of the mares she was supposed to protect. Only the animal caretaker remained unaccounted for. That made her job significantly easier.

But something wasn’t right. She felt a strange tingle in the back of her brain, a primal, ancient instinct, warning her of danger.

Someone is watching me.

Anon kept her back to the nearest window, the table serving as additional cover. Watching the ponies in the room, no one seemed to pay her much attention.

Except for a pair of fillies, both earth ponies of her apparent age.

The first was a light shade of pink and wore a tiara from some precious metal, possibly platinum. The other one had gray fur, a silver mane, and glasses. Both of them obviously came from very wealthy families, with the way their coats were immaculately groomed and had their manes obviously professionally done. Not to mention the diamond-encrusted jewelry.

The personal butler attending them was also a clue.

“Is it true? You were in the Everfree?” asked the silver-maned one.

Anon simply shrugged, not paying much attention to the foals. The feeling of being observed from the shadows was only intensifying now. “Yeah, can't say I can recommend the place unless you are a fan of dingy, overgrown ruins and homicidal foliage.”

The filly with a tiara stepped forward, speaking in an almost accusatory tone. “Why would you even go there?”

“I got lost.”

That wasn’t strictly a lie, but to call being thrown into a different dimension willy nilly ‘getting lost’ was the same as to call the Chernobyl disaster a ‘slight mishap’.

"But you fought off a pack of timberwolves by yourself, yes?" said the silver maned one, the excitement in her voice apparent, before she got a look from the pink one, making her shrink.

Wait, they’re really called timberwolves? That was supposed to be a joke!

"Nah, mostly I ran around swearing while they chased me."

The filly with a tiara frowned. "That sounds pretty unimpressive,” she said, sounding like she found out someone had stolen all the batteries from her favorite new toy. "After that display with the knife, I hoped you would be more… interesting."

Anon didn't mind, not caring much what some kid thought about her. As long as it didn't put her in danger, she was alright with being seen as uninteresting or boring.

Boring was good, she liked boring. Not being killed was boring and she very much liked that, too.

"Well, running for one's life ain't exactly glamorous. Though I can't say it ever gets dull."

The bratty pony huffed. "Come on, Silver Spoon, let's find somepony actually interesting to talk to, not this lame nopony."

The now identified Silver Spoon gasped hearing the words. Anon raised an eyebrow at that.

Is ‘lame’ a serious insult in Equestria? It had bad connotations with horses back on Earth, but how would that translate here?

An angry huff sounded from the crowd of ponies. Aimed at her, Anon just knew it. Somebody was watching her every move, now to find them before they made the first move.

A pony carrying a plate with drinks went past her, passing the two snobby ponies before tripping, the drinks going flying towards them. The fillies screaming bloody murder.

Not tripping - that was intentional.

Anon acted, carried by instinct and muscle memory. Balancing on her hind legs, using her healthy hoof to catch the glasses mid air.

In a flash, the cups were balanced on her bandaged hoof, but a single drop escaped and landed on Anon's muzzle. The powerful smell betraying its nature.

Sticky, red, viscous liquid. Makes my eyes water. Definitely a poison, but was it aimed for me or the rich kids?

An assassination attempt either way. Anon’s gaze focused on the culprit, trying to hide in the crowd. Whoever this was, it must have been the pony watching her, she could feel it in her bones.

A problem appeared: if she left the poison there, somebody might drink it.. She would have to carry it with her. An extra challenge.

"Excuse me for a moment," she said, towards the foals gawking at her and the impromptu show of athletic prowess, before diving into the crowd after the would-be-murderer. The game of cat and mouse was just starting.

Anon was tiny, easily overlooked and able to simply walk under most grown-up ponies. She focused on the shape of the one she was pursuing while balancing the poison-filled cups.

Her target had the advantage of being able to hide easily, blending naturally into the always-moving partygoers. It made the assassin hard to follow. The flashing lights, loud music screeching into Anon's sensitive ears, and the barrage of different scents could not distract her now. She had a purpose, a mission.

She reached into her mane with pony-magic, the true spork appearing. In the hands of anybody else, it was an ordinary item, but in hers? It turned into a deadly implement of absolute destruction.

Let's hope I won't need to release its power.

She went around a large red-coated stallion, slipping under a table and sliding under a chair. The room was a forest of legs. Her target was tricky, appearing nonchalant, hiding in the smaller groups, before moving on. Anon only ever got glimpses of the assassin. Most of their body was covered by a cloak.

"Spring!"

At first, the calling of her false name did not alert her. Only when someone suddenly picked her up did Anon panic, nearly stabbing the unfortunate soul with the almighty true spork.

It was Lyra, who upon realizing what she just did, released Anon.

"Thank Celestia, you’re alright.”

Anon’s eyes scanned the crowd, the assassin gone, lost from view.

“I heard a scream, is everything okay?”

“Yes, I'm okay,” she said. Desperately trying to catch at least a shred of evidence left after the assassin.

A murderer on the loose, she would have to be careful, probably covertly inform the guards to avert panic and suspicion. This stay was getting more interesting than she liked…

“Hey, you brought drinks!”

She had the disassembled communication array in her saddlebags. Contacting Celestia about the situation would need to be another step, and-

Wait, what did Lyra just say?

Levitating one of the cups to her lips, Lyra took a sip. Anon leapt to intercept, bending space and time itself to reach in time, punching the glass away from the pony, but the deed was done.

Too late.

With a grim recognition, she saw how her Lyra’s eyes widened, mouth opened as if to scream, but no sound left her mouth.

Only fire.

Wait, what kind of poison is this?!?

Lyra started to spew flames, running around like a headless chicken and trying to scream something.

Milk, she wanted milk

Anon galloped, which was hard to do on three legs, jumping over furniture and ponies as they gave the unicorn space. Breaking into the kitchen and the pantry, Anon grabbed a jug of milk and galloped right back.

The green filly did not understand why the milk was important, but she was terrified. What kind of cruel intelligence devises a poison that ignites its target? What a perverse act of cruelty! Was milk an antidote?

Pinkie Pie bounced along, ignoring the fire-breathing pony, picking up an abandoned cup from the floor, giving it a single sniff. “Hey! That's where I left my hot sauce!” She took a sip, to the utter horror of Anon, burping smoke and fire. “Yummy!”

As Lyra drank the milk, putting out the inferno, Pinkie happily continued bouncing, passing Anon, who only stared stunned at the pink menace. One thing made itself abundantly clear in the green filly’s mind.

Her stay here was going to be a lot more interesting than she had anticipated.

What was the swear word Daybreaker used? Ah yes.

“Horseapples.”

Author's Note

Well, this chapter was pain. I had to start over three times before writing something at least somewhat coherent.

Thanks for all the lovely comments, you're all great.

See ya next week.

Also, huge credit to PseudoBob Delightus for managing to edit this chapter in under a day because I took too long. The man is a legend.

Chapter Seven: Tugging At The Heartstrings

Everypony had secrets, Bon Bon was well aware of that fact.

She just had more secrets than average.

“Does it still hurt?” she said towards Lyra.

It was the late evening of their first day as Anon's foster parents. The Welcome Party ended a while ago and the ponies that had gathered downstairs went home, leaving them a quiet house.

“A bit.”

The pair laid in their shared bed, Lyra's back bent at an awkward position for most ponies. “But it was my fault for falling for it. Now Spring feels bad, even though it wasn't her fault! She was only trying to catch the prankster.” Lyra pouted her cheeks. ”That filly, she is so… scared. All of the time. And I don't know how to make her feel better.”

Bon Bon nodded whilst arranging the pillows under Lyra’s head. “I think she just needs some time to settle. So many changes happened suddenly in her life, it's bound to be stressful.”

Lyra gave a saddened sigh. “Yeah, you are probably right.”

The secret agent swallowed more guilt.

The whole fiasco at the party was her fault. Wanting to spy on the entity, she threw on a basic disguise and blended into the crowd. She just wanted to make sure Anon didn’t do anything dangerous. The entity had already endangered a pony - that knife only missed Pinkie Pie by pure luck.

It was clearly a panicked response to being frightened, so Sweetie Drops didn't activate the contingency, but the entity proved herself to be highly unstable. Keeping a close watch on her to make sure she did not attempt anything just made sense.

No, this was all a sound plan, but it all went wrong when she let her emotions cloud her judgment.

Bon Bon looked at Lyra, the most beautiful and perfect mare in the world. Not in a million years would she ever imagine her luck.

It never got old - holding the love of her life in her hooves.

When she heard those rotten brats say that, she couldn't take it, she had to do something. The hot sauce would be her petty revenge.

Lyra shifted slightly, wincing and gritting her teeth. Her back was acting up after today's activity. The walk through Ponyville and the running around after she drank the hot sauce, it all came back with a vengeance.

“I’ll go get you the heating pad,” Bon Bon said, ready to leave the comfortable warmth of their bed, but a hoof gently wrapping around her barrel stopped her, Lyra resting her head on her chest. “No, I'm okay. Just… stay here, please?” the unicorn begged.

Bon Bon nuzzled her back.

Oh, how much she hated that word. How much she wished to destroy it, burn it, make it disappear. Make all the pain it caused go away. Give Lyra a better life. But there were some things that nopony could change, and so Bon Bon had to continue hating that word and Lyra had to continue living with it.

Lame.

Such an innocuous, small word. Extraordinary - just how much suffering could hide behind only four letters.

The agent sighed. Lyra always took it in stride. If the pain was too much for her to climb the stairs, so she had to carry her to bed? Lyra would call it ‘romantic’ and tease her the whole way up until she resembled a blushing tomato. When ponies looked at her weirdly for sitting in that peculiar way to ease the strain on her back? She would play it up as a joke!

The lameness never stopped Lyra from playing her instrument, from creating, from being her.

The most perfect mare in the world.

But Bon Bon hated the word, what it represented for Lyra, and her anger had spilled onto those two bratty fillies. A mistake. She was an agent, for Celestia's sake! She should have known better.

And she had underestimated Anon, risking her mission.

She would not make the same error twice. “Goodnight Honey.”

“Goodnight, love you,” Bon Bon heard Lyra mutter, half-asleep already.

“I love you too,” she said, knowing that no matter how sweet a dream she had, it would never be better than the pony she would get to wake up to.

The jumper stood, someone else’s blood soaking his jacket. Hands curled into fists as the monster approached.

Unmoving and scattered around him were people he couldn’t save - people he’d failed to save.

The armored giant took its time. This wasn't a fight, but an execution.

Battle consumed the great city. Blasts from the orbital bombardment could be heard closing in, mixing with the screams of those who were trying to escape and the cries of those who could not escape anymore.

If hell was real, he had found it.

The jumper was scared. His legs refused to work; sweat was dripping down his forehead; he was heaving, his stomach already emptied.

The thing looked human, at least vaguely. A towering giant fully clad in black and gold power-armor. But whatever was hiding under those thick metal plates wasn't human, definitely not anymore. It moved silently despite the armor's bulk, its hateful, piercing gaze from within the red visors focused on him. Crimson dripped from its weapon.

A monster.

The sheen on its armor looked almost oily in the light of the flames. Unnatural and repugnant. It walked through the destruction it had wrought, through the piles of soldiers and civilians that it had stolen the life from.

The monster laughed, seeing him. One more puny little human amidst the devastation. It taunted him, hands spread wide, inviting him to try anything to stop it, knowing that such a common foe stood no chance against it.

He was shaking, fear and anger filling him. This was the end.

A punch aimed at the monster's lower torso, the highest point he could reach. A foolish attempt - there was nothing he could do to harm it. But there was nowhere to run, either. His last trump card was useless against the armor. Only the wall of flames behind him and the behemoth in front of him remained. His fate was sealed.

The monster's laughter stopped. Both stared at the jumper's hand.

His hand blurred, becoming fuzzy, as if it was made from static. It disappeared through the warplate, ignoring the thick metal.

The jumper let go of the plasma grenade. The monster roared as the force of the explosion tore it apart from the inside. But it still delivered one last, vengeful blow. The attack came faster than his eyes could follow; the jumper sidestepped in a desperate attempt at avoiding certain death.

He was too slow.

Anon woke up, gasping for breath, looking around her, eyes wide open with fright, before slowly calming down.

Just a dream, a bad memory. Nothing else.

That world was an especially nasty one, and she had only escaped by the skin of her teeth. The visions of that place had been haunting her ever since.

First time I phased. If only I learned a little faster.

The room was quiet. The sun wasn't up yet, but the horizon was already colored in soft orange, promising a peaceful morning, followed by nothing but pleasant weather and a calm summer day.

And it put her on edge.

It's not the danger you see coming, but the one you don't, that gets you.

Anon freed herself from the mess of blankets on the floor. It wasn't that the bed was uncomfortable, but the exact opposite. The hospital bed was great for her, because while it was far more comfortable than what she was used to, it still wasn't without flaws - the mattress was a little stiff and the frame was a little narrow, just enough to be reminded of it every time she turned.

The bed here was big, soft, and felt great, and she couldn't stand it.

She needed those bumps and imperfections, to remind her of reality. To have something pull her back, something to think about except her own thoughts.

She stretched like a cat, her back giving a satisfying pop. The bedroom was… charming. Somebody must have put in a lot of effort to make it look that way. From the cute, child-oriented furniture, to a plethora of stickers of musical notes and instruments marking the walls, together with posters for some kind of pony pop-star.

Yawning, she walked to the bathroom. The clean, white-tiled room immediately struck her as aggressively ordinary in contrast to the colorful bedroom.

First order of business, she checked her bandages, carefully looking for any signs of infection. Afterwards, it was time to get clean.

The jumper let her thoughts wander for a few moments. Standing in the shower, letting the water flow down the drain. Such a normal thing, an everyday morning routine for most - hers too, in a time that now seemed so far away. Yet it now felt so… alien.

Done with the shower, the filly grabbed a few towels and dried herself, her attention now drawn to the sink and the toothbrush waiting there.

The sink had a mirror, the reflective surface showing the jumper her still relatively new face. Ears twitched as she willed them to move. The little nicks and scars on her face were hidden by green fur, even the big one on her lower jaw, where it had been shattered by the monster. She opened her mouth. Her teeth, while slightly crooked, were all still there.

I have to admit, that world was dark and grim, but their dental was top notch.

She had been through this same exact situation numerous times. Time and time again, she found a stranger waiting for her when she faced a mirror.

Those scars served as a good reminder that it was still her, beneath it all. Despite the transformations, despite her lost name.

Despite everything, it's still you.

Anon sighed.

Isn’t it?

The jumper finished her business in the bathroom and went downstairs. The remnants of yesterday's party had miraculously vanished from the living room. Faint sounds of muted conversation and the smell of something sweet carried from the kitchen.

“Morning, Spring!”

Lyra sat behind a table, a plate of waffles in front of her. “You had a good sleep?”

Anon limped towards them, choosing the seat closest to the doors. “Ehm, good… morning? Isn't it a little early? The sun isn't even up yet.”

Bon Bon, busy in the kitchen, filled another plate and handed it to the filly, who eagerly dug in. “Well, we didn't expect you to be up yet.”

Anon stopped, a piece of a waffle halfway to her mouth. “Am I interrupting something? Sorry, I’ll go.”

“No!” exclaimed Lyra, standing up partially before wincing and sitting back down, earning a concerned look from Bon Bon. “We just got up a little early, that's all. And it's a special day for you.”

“Special?” Anon asked.

“Your first full day with us!” Lyra said cheerfully. “Is there anything you want to do?”

Anon took a bottle of syrup, pouring it over her food. The waffles were delicious, of course; she suspected it was impossible for any food here to taste bad.

Except grass. Grass was horrible.

“Not really.”

She still needed to set up a communication array, and she had neglected her journal longer than she liked too. Both were pretty simple tasks, but until they were done, the nagging voice in the back of her head would not shut up.

And she also had a trap to set up.

Lyra frowned. “What about going to the park? Sounds good?”

Anon shrugged. “Yeah.”

The pair sent each other meaningful looks, the nonverbal communication between the two conveying the general message of: Help me, what do?

“Can I ask you something?” said the green filly, interrupting their trains of thought.

Lyra's reaction was immediate: shoulders sagged, ears lowered. The dreaded question, it always came.

Most days it was manageable, the pain from her back a dull ache she would be able to almost forget was even there.

This day, sadly, wasn't one of those. It hurt, a searing kind of hurt that didn't want to go away, her mangled muscles and bent spine just had to scream at her brain, demanding attention.

So she sat in a way that eased it a little, her hind legs hanging over the edge, back straight. Most ponies would find that position very uncomfortable, but for her it helped.

“Why do you-”

And here it was. The same old thing. She wondered what version it would be today.

What's up with the way you sit? Hey, you sit kinda funny. Why do you sit weird?

It was… tiring. Answering the same question over and over again, but what usually followed was far worse. The pity, the remarks. All the ponies acting like her life was forever ruined.

It didn't put her into the best mood.

Explaining it away as mimicking a mythological creature had to be one of the greatest ideas, ever. Yes, it got her more than a few strange looks and whispered rumors about being some kind of crazed fanatic or conspiracy theorist, but all of that was worth it. Not to mention how much fun she got from messing with ponies.

“-eat waffles plain? The syrup is right there.”

Lyra choked, the unicorn coughing until she dislodged the pesky piece of breakfast from her throat.

“Pardon, I… plain waffles?”

Anon nodded. “I take food very seriously.”

Lyra fought the urge to hug that adorable puff of green fur.

Anon stiffened as a pair of minty green hooves pulled her close.

The urge won.

"Please let me go," Anon asked, feeling more than a little undignified. The fact that Bon Bon was wheezing in the kitchen did not help. The dead glare she gave her only served to make the earth pony lose her composure completely, exploding in a laughing fit.

Note to self, trying to look intimidating while in the body of a pint-sized unicorn doesn't have the desired effect.

After that was over and the grumpy filly was released, the three of them finished their breakfast in a display of violence against waffle-kind. Their massacre would be forever embedded into the minds of the few survivors, who were put into a brown paper bag for later.

The sun, meanwhile, finally showed up after some encouragement from the princess. Lyra grabbed a case with her precious instrument, eager to get out.

"Honey, haven't you forgotten something?" said Bon Bon playfully.

The unicorn did a one eighty turn, placing a quick goodbye kiss on the earth pony. "Have a nice day at work Bonnie, love you!"

Bon Bon chuckled. "I was talking about your coin purse."

"Oh… thanks, you are the best," Lyra said.

Anon raised an eyebrow. "You’re not going?"

Bon Bon shook her head. "No, I have a lot of orders to make before the festival. Candies don't make themselves, you know. But you two have a good time out there."

Lyra gave her a mock salute. "You can count on it! Come on, Spring - to the park!"

Sweetie Drops watched them leave, waving as they vanished into the town, then she waited. One minute, three, five…

The agent opened the cellar doors, her chosen tools resting inside a hidden compartment there.

"Operation Anonymous' Following is officially underway."

Anon's gaze hardened. All her senses were sent into overdrive.

Somebody's watching me again.

The town square was still mostly empty, same as the marketplace, where only the most enterprising ponies had set up a shop this early.

So it should have been easy to spot whoever was spying on them.

But Anon had no such luck, their follower ever elusive. A list of suspects formed in her mind, from the party-ruining prankster to someone sent by Celestia to keep tabs on her, or maybe a member of a shadowy organization, following her after they discovered her powers?

Lyra, oblivious to the fact that they were being followed, trotted down the street, the happy clip-clop of her hooves making Anon's ears twitch.

They were slightly out of rhythm.

"You’re limping."

The unicorn mare stopped, the look of shame on her face hidden by a strained smile.

"I…" Anon's mind went back to the moment she punched that cursed cup. "I didn't hurt you yesterday, did I?"

Lyra waved her off. “It's just a foalhood injury that sometimes acts up." Her smile brightened. "Besides, it was pretty funny. The hot sauce definitely got me!"

Her attempt at cheering Anon up was not working. The filly continued her own limp at her side.

"Look at us," Lyra tried. "Both soldiering on. Like two peas from the same… uh, nevermind.”

The filly didn't acknowledge her, one hoof scraping against her bandages nervously. A look of mortified realization appeared on Lyra’s face. "We forgot to clean your bandages! We have to turn back, I’m sorry, but it's important that-”

Anon stopped her. "I changed them already. Wasn't much trouble."

"Oh… “ Lyra slumbed down. “Doesn't it hurt to clean them by yourself?"

Anon thought about it for a second. She hadn’t even thought about asking for help, simply not realizing that it was now an option.

"A little, but I'm used to it.”

The unicorn mare’s expression softened. "I don't think foals should get used to things like that."

"Well, I didn't exactly get a choice in the matter."

Lyra restrained herself from pulling the filly into a hug again. The resignation she heard from Anon's voice…

It broke her heart to see anypony like that, much less a foal.

Her muzzle scrunched up in determination.

She may have lost her chance at motherhood - after yesterday, it was a shock that the filly didn't hate her already.

But she could still help, make the life at least a little brighter for Spring Break. An idea came to her.

Anon felt the change in the air, and so did the few other ponies around them. There was a barely-perceptible aura around them. A spark, charging up the atmosphere with something. It sent a tingle down her spine. It made her want to move.

Is that a click track?

It made her want to dance.

And she wasn't alone.

Anon could only watch as Lyra suddenly sprung up.

And started singing.

"Hey now, come on. Let's go, the music's playin'!” Her voice was energetic, it wanted Anon to be swept away, to go with the music. The filly put out resistance, but the music was only just starting. “We gotta move on. No more delayin'. Carefree adventure's waitin'.“

"Yeah, yeah!” The surrounding ponies joined the impromptu musical number. Anon’s legs started to move seemingly on their own accord.

Its magic.

The whole town square was joining in. Ponies were popping out of their windows, just to chime in at the chorus.

“So kick it up to stir it up! Alive will make us feel,” sang a pegasus coming down from napping in the clouds.

“Press reset with no regret. Make sure to keep it real,” piped out a brown stallion with an hourglass for a cutie mark.

“The possibility's right in front of me. Oh, all the things that I can be. Got me feelin' free.” Lyra was leading the singing, and the singing was… lively. The whole place was lively, brimming with life, with hope.

For a moment, Anon remembered. A time that now seemed so long ago. She remembered the feeling of peace, of happiness.

For the first time in forever, she smiled.

All as one, the voices conjoined, each one coloring the song different, yet it all worked together into something that fit together.

Something harmonious.

"Walk a new path, and go on, and let the cares fly by. And if you take some time to ask me why, you always see me with a smile, I'll tell you that.”

Lyra took in a breath, watching the green filly bob her head in tune. The heartsong carried the whole performance. A magic so ancient it was hardly magic. The words found them, not the other way around.

“Life is grand, life is great, life is good.
Life is beautiful!
You've gotta give it all you've got.
Everything you've got to give, time to shine, time to live.”

The green filly stopped resisting the pull, the chorus building up. The music was getting faster and faster.

“Life is grand, life is great, life is good.
Life is beautiful!
Now you’re living out your dream with your hopes up high.
Your only limit is the sky.”

Anon sang with them now, surprised by her own voice and her ability to sing in tune, despite normally being unable to hold a note to save her life, once even literally.

Deadly talent shows were a thing in some dimensions, apparently.

“Standing in a brand new place.
I feel the sunshine on my face.”

Anon started slow, still unsure, but others were encouraging her. The music itself was encouraging her.

“The weather's good, the day is bright.
I watched it turn from dark to light.”

Lyra gestured at her to go on, and the filly swallowed nervously.

Just… let go.

“And keep the music going.
Keep the good times rollin'.”

The words just appeared in her mind. In all her travels, she had never experienced something like this.

“And now I'll never let it stop.
You'll only find me growin'.”

The words were resonating with her; the song turned into a duet between her and Lyra. The unicorn mare was positively beaming seeing Anon finally crack a smile. The newly-gathered crowd moved and danced with them.

“Come on and sing out a song, and don't be shy," Lyra sang, hooves skidding on the cobblestone floor, pushing through the pain the movement brought her. “Cause you'll never know 'til you give it a try,”

Anon picked the song back up, the magically-enhanced vocals easing her into it like an invisible hand guiding her. “Colorful like a work of art. A brand new world, a brand new start. And once you go up, you'll never come down!”

Lyra chimed back in. "And if you take some time to ask me why you always see me with a smile, I'll tell you that.”

The chorus was back, building up and up with every voice singing all at once.

“Life is grand, life is great, life is good!
Life is beautiful.
You've gotta give it all you've got!
Everything you've got to give, time to shine, time to live.”

Side by side, the ponies were now in the park proper; the music reaching its crescendo.

“Life is grand, life is great, life is good!
Life is beautiful.
Now your living out your dream with your hopes up high!
Your only limit is the sky!”

And just like that, the moment was over. Anon was left standing in the middle of the park, stunned and trying to explain what had just happened to her brain. The ponies all waved and went back to their normal business. Lyra happily shoulder-bumped the filly as she returned to her side.

“That was good! You have a great singing voice, Spring.”

Lyra’s praise was lost on her, as Anon was too busy trying to compartmentalize the situation.

What. The. Actual. Hell?!?

There were no words to describe it, and if there were, they were probably contained in some dark grimoire; the kind written with blood that drives you insane when you read it.

Her bewilderment ended when Anon registered the familiar feeling of being watched, and the filly snapped back to reality.

“It was a very pretty heartsong."

A yellow pegasus mare picked up a squirrel, the critter running to her pink mane.

“Hey Fluttershy, had a nice morning?”

She nodded. “Mr. Squirrel needed a little help finding where he stashed the nuts from last winter. But we found them.”

“Good!” Lyra pointed at the shell-shocked filly. “I have somepony I want you to meet. This is Spring Break, she’ll be staying with me and Bon Bon for a while.”

Fluttershy slowly approached the filly, kneeling on the grass in front of her. "Hello, I'm Fluttershy," she said softly.

"Ehm, hello ma'am."

The pegasus' big, blue eyes bored into Anon. The feeling was similar to Celestia's soul-searching gaze, except more gentle. Tender, in a way.

There was sadness in there, too. It made Anon shiver.

Fluttershy turned to the squirrel resting in her mane, whispering something to the critter who answered by chirping and a quick salute.

"Would you want to play with Mr. Squirrel?"

"Play?"

The squirrel jumped, landing on Anon's muzzle and began the assault. Anon quickly discovered a new fact about her pony body.

She was extremely ticklish.

More small animals appeared from the trees and bushes, the small army of critters joining the fray. The filly retaliated by petting them mercilessly while giggling her lungs off.

Lyra shot the pegasus a big smile. "You handled it super well, Fluttershy! Introducing yourself to others like a true pro already? I knew you could do it!”

Fluttershy didn't smile back, her gaze still glued to the laughing filly, expression somber. "Who hurt her, Lyra?"

Lyra stepped back. "The bandages? She got lost in the Everfree and a pack of timberwolves attacked her. But little Spring is a fighter! She’ll be alright."

Fluttershy was quiet for a moment. "You remember Harry?"

Lyra raised an eyebrow. "Wait, he’s that bear, right? One of your animal friends?"

Fluttershy nodded. "Harry is a rescue from a circus. He is truly a gentle creature, but in that horrible place… " She sighed. "I'm so glad the guards shut it down."

Anon squealed in the background, a mouse tickling the very sensitive frog of her hooves with a borrowed feather.

"That’s sad to hear, but what does it have to do with Spring?" Lyra asked.

Fluttershy’s wings were slumped down her side, and a few small tears escaped her eyes.

"She has the same scars as him. Those circular ones around her hooves." Her voice turned into a whisper. "From chains."

Silence reigned between the two mares for a while. Eventually, Fluttershy spoke again. "I'm sorry Lyra, I have to go. If you need any help...”

The pegasus was interrupted by Anon, yelling at the top of her lungs while laughing "Mercy! I surrender! Hahahaha! Please! You got me!"

The critters relented their assault, chirping excitedly between each other while Anon laid on the grass.

"Enjoying yourself?" asked Lyra.

She raised her hoof, trying to give a thumbs up, before remembering that doesn't really work without thumbs. "Yeah, but whatever that was? I think I lost."

Lyra helped her get back up. The filly shuddered at the touch.

"Wanna go for some ice cream?" she offered.

Anon closed her eyes for a moment, letting the summer sun wash over her, feeling the slight breeze in the air.

"Yup, let’s go."

Life for Anon, at least at that very moment, was beautiful.

Author's Note

The song is a heavily butchered version of Life Is Beautiful by Tim McMorris.

Hopefully you find some sort of enjoyment from my little experiment here. On other news, we are entering spooktober. How fitting, considering what's in the store with the next few chapters.

Chapter Eight: Plans Meeting Reality

In a small, seemingly unremarkable township of Ponyville, the morning began. It did so with a startling frequency, and was about the only thing that happened regularly in Ponyville.

The flowers opened their colorful reproductive organs, the birds entered a screaming match with each other, and the yellow orb of superheated plasma in the sky shone brightly.

Many would even say that that's the point of having an orb of superheated plasma - providing life with light and heat. The sun would not argue with this assessment too much, being a ball of plasma and all, but it also moved, which was very important for the life part of the equation.

Well, it moved most of the time.

The few notable exceptions were, at least as far as ponies knew, the reign of Discord; the legendary Long Night rebellion; that one time Celestia overslept; and, to the growing worry of a tiny green filly, tomorrow.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

In this seemingly unremarkable town were houses.

Which, to be fair, was kind of a given. Buildings are a hard requirement for a town to be considered… well, a town.

A town without buildings in it is called a field.

One of these houses was nothing special, entirely matching the house-ness of its housy neighbors. Straw roof, whitened outer walls. A place where people lived. A home, or it at least tried to be. Not all places where people lived were homes, sadly, but this house tried its best.

Towards it, a shadowy figure crept closer, before suddenly leaping into a cart filled with hay and vanishing from sight.

That figure was short and green, with a frazzled black mane, and she carried a burlap sack.

Anon took a quick look from her hiding spot, the hay forming a cap of yellow straw on her head.

Where are they?

There was a good reason why the jumper was reenacting scenes from Looney Tunes.

She was being chased.

A pink blur zipped into view, then stopped with a squealing sound closer to a fast braking car than a pony. Pinkie Pie's eyes scanned every inch of the street as black smoke raised from her hooves.

Anon froze, not daring to take a breath as the pink menace’s gaze panned over her hiding spot.

Something fell behind them, clattering on the cobblestone street.

The party-pony made a sharp turn towards the noise, bolting after it with the vigor of a bloodhound on the scent.

Anon waited for a few more tense moments before finally taking precious oxygen into her lungs, and continued sneaking towards the house.

Coming face-to-face with a wall.

I could use my powers, or…

Anon gripped onto the wooden beams embedded into the wall, climbing towards the window she had left open for this exact purpose.

Her movements were fluid and calm. She used the sack as a counterweight to throw herself inside the open window, landing softly on the carpet.

The room had changed a little in the two weeks she’d been staying there. There was now a pile of toys gathering dust in the corner, and a bookshelf filled with children's literature she couldn't read, next to a bed still too comfortable to sleep on. Lyra’s solution was to make the bed even more comfortable, by getting a mattress that felt like laying on a warm, fluffy cloud.

Anon did not use the bed.

The coast is clear. Time to hide the evidence.

First, she shuddered and phased. All the grime on her fur and the hay stuck in her mane fell to the floor, before being swept under the carpet. Next, she closed her eyes, her healthy hoof outstretched above the burlap sack.

And then she stomped on it.

Reality, already bruised, got yet another smackdown as the sack sunk into the floor, sending ripples across its surface like a heavy stone thrown into a lake.

Well, this puts another meaning onto floating floors.

Anon gave a content sigh - the evidence of her night expedition hidden, it was finally time to get some well-deserved rest.

And that was when it struck. An inkling, a little itch in the back of her brain, incessant, persistent and getting louder and louder by the second. The kind of itch one gets when you leave your friend’s home and suddenly begin wondering if you forgot your keys, despite remembering putting them in your pocket. You know they’re there, you put them there only moments ago, but the itch is getting stronger and stronger yet you're just so sure that they are there but it's still growing and you’re getting desperate andjust have to make sure but you know they are there!

The filly checked her saddlebags. Struggling with the straps, her hooves felt far more inadequate than usual. Her mind too fuzzy and unfocused to get a grasp on her unicorn magic.

Until it opened at last.

Its still there.

The magelight lay safely in the saddlebags, glowing softly in shades of gold. “Sorry for the bumpy ride-” she picked up the orb, her own reflections distorted on its glassy surface. “-but hey, this whole thing was your idea in the first place, so…”

Celestia finding the orb was advantageous in the end - seeing that a version of hers trusted the jumper with something so valuable gave Anon an air of trustworthiness. But being separated too long from any of her possessions felt wrong, and this one… This one was even more special than the others.

When Anon was in the hospital, she was at least comfortable in the knowledge that she could have retrieved them at any moment, if she needed to. Having them confiscated by Celestia's agents and outside her reach was… nonideal.

But she had them back. All of them.

Anon nudged the artifact, hoping for a reaction.

Nothing, like always.

“Well, now I feel insane. Talking to rocks. Hah.”

It's not the talking to rocks that's insane, it's the fact that I'm expecting an answer.

She put the orb back in and collapsed into the mess of pillows and blankets on the floor. Muscles aching, the exhausted filly let a dreamless sleep claim her.

"Wakey wakey Spring!"

For five whole minutes.

Lyra walked towards the curtains to let the sun in.

How did she get in? I thought I locked the doors.

"It's time to get ready, we have a busy day in front of us," exclaimed Lyra happily.

Anon groaned, light attacking her mercilessly despite a weak attempt at hiding her head under a pillow.

Curse you Celestia and your unreasonably fast sunrises!

"Ughmmm," was Anon's very verbose response.

"I also brought you something!"

The filly yawned and got up, shaking off the remnant of her whole five minutes of sleep.

Lyra gave her a hopeful look. In her amber-coloured magic was a stuffed animal, looking closer to a Chernobyl reject than anything that had any right to exist. A cursed mix of a lion and a scorpion.

And it had wings.

Those things are real here, aren't they?

"So?" Lyra asked enthusiastically.

It was large, plush, and looked like it would make an excellent pillow right now.

Anon tried her best to appear excited.

Tried - an apt word for it.

"It's… cute," Anon said slowly. Taking the stuffed manticore and in her healthy hoof and putting it next to the growing pile of toys in the corner.

"You don't like it," said Lyra flatly. It wasn't even an accusation, simply stating the obvious.

Alarm bells went off in Anon's head.

This mare was hosting her, feeding her and, plainly, just being nice to her. And here she was, taking advantage of a stranger's goodwill. And what did Lyra get in return?

Nothing, plain and simple. No, worse than nothing. Just by being here, she was robbing Lyra of a chance to have a real family.

And if that wasn't enough, Lyra was hurting now. Why? Because she wanted to make Spring Break, the foal that didn't exist, happy.

At least pretend to play with it, you dunce!

"No! I like it, see?" she reassured Lyra weakly, taking the toy from the pile and waving it in the air and making noises.

It evidently wasn't very convincing.

Lyra grimaced, her expression sour. "... Right." she said finally. "Breakfast is ready. Bonnie will take you to the doctor today. I’ll be at the rehearsal, kay?

“M’kay,” Anon said, sitting on her haunches and waiting.

The words rang hollow to Lyra, who could taste the air of annoyance and discomfort around the filly. "Are you alright? If something’s wro-"

"Nope! I'm fine. Nothing to worry about here!" was the quick reply.

The mare gave a long sigh. "Spring, if you need- If you want anything. Just ask, okay?"

"Sure."

Lyra hesitated for a moment, looking torn over something, before sighing again and leaving the room.

Anon facehooved.

Great, that didn't work. I really should have taken those acting classes.

The jumper locked the doors and pulled out her journal from inside the bedframe - with what was coming, this would be her last chance to write something for some time. The pen glided ungracefully above the paper, writing with haste.

I set everything up. The magelight is rigged, and I’ve got enough ingredients for another batch if needed. Iron oxide was easy enough, sulfur was harder but manageable, but the locals have not discovered electrolysis or any other means to extract anything useful from bauxite, so I had to improvise. The mixture worked when I tested it so I'm hopefully set on that front.

She glanced outside, no sign of the pink devil.

Salvaged more gear just in case shit goes south and I will need to hide in the woods. The Pink One nearly got me, but I got lucky. Something distracted her at the last moment again. Maybe I do have a guardian angel? Nah, that’s ridiculous. Who would that even be?

"Spring, your breakfast is getting cold!" called out Bon Bon from downstairs.

"Coming!"

Anyway, all the pieces are in place. Last time, I ran, like always. But this time?

I’ll be ready.

I’ll be ready.

Day 1244ish, signing off

Bon Bon slumped back down onto her chair, frowning. "What's taking her so long?”

Lyra shuffled closer to her marefriend, booping her snout and causing Bon Bon to blink a few times. "Don't be grumpy, Bonnie."

"I'm not grumpy," Bon Bon huffed, tail swishing in agitation. “Just tired. The new orders are so… Argh!”

Having to sneak out of bed to follow some crazed extra-planar entity, wandering into the Everfree at the dead of night, put a damper on her mood. The breaking-and-entering into a few different places around Ponyville also did little to endear her to the idea of having to watch over Anon. At least she only stole junk, by the looks of it, but that was a small reassurance to ponies who no longer felt safe in their own homes .

And of course, having to distract Pinkie, and nearly getting caught by her.

And how did the Boss react? ‘Keep watching the entity!’ The agency was preparing for the inevitable return of Nightmare Moon and she was stuck watching from the sidelines, babysitting some-

“Okay so maybe I'm a little grumpy,” Bon Bon admitted.

Lyra hugged her. “Don't worry, the celebration will be over soon."

Bon Bon hugged her back, her worries seeming a little less important just for a moment. "Hmm, and don't forget the rehearsal. I still plan to go there and see you play."

Lyra giggled. "It's just a rehearsal. You can see me play tomorrow. Don't you have a full schedule, taking Spring to the doctor and getting your orders ready?"

Lyra was right, of course. She had a tight schedule to keep, but there was no chance in Tartarus she would miss the chance to hear Lyra play.

Not with what was coming tomorrow - not with the risk it carried, the risk of never hearing Lyra play again if she failed.

Bon Bon's muzzle scrunched in determination. "Not missing it. Doesn't matter how busy I get."

Lyra paused, a devilish smile appeared on her muzzle. “You're so stressed lately. Who would have imagined that candy making can be so hard on a pony! I thought it was supposed to be a sweet deal?”

Bon Bon nodded. “Yeah, I…” the corners of her mouth twitched upwards. “Lyra! That was horrible! Even by your standards!”

Lyra beamed, grinning from ear to ear. “Then why are you smiling?”

As the universe has its own sense of humor, that was the moment the floorboards under Anon's hooves made a loud creaking noise as the filly was climbing onto the table to stuff her face full of hay bacon.

In reality, the creaking floorboards were no accident. Sweetie Drops took great care to make all the floorboards in the house creaky to act as a forewarning mechanism.

It evidently worked as it caught the filly in its grasp.

Quick, think of a distraction!

Anon swallowed and gave them a sheepish smile. “Ehm, don't mint me?”

While Bon Bon groaned, somewhere else a studious unicorn in a color intermediate between red and blue found a very special book.

And opened it.

Deep within the Everfree forest, in a cave not visited by a pony in centuries, is a crystal tree, marked with a six-pointed star. Gray and seemingly dead, it then did something it hadn't done in nearly a thousand years.

It started shimmering.

"Aaand done! Good as new, shouldn't even leave a scar."

Her daily visits at the doctor's office were relatively pleasant affairs, and Anon was thankful for having an actual doctor care for her injuries for once. More importantly, she was finally free of the bandages around her leg.

"Thank you Doc," Bon Bon said, getting up from where she was waiting until Doctor Horse was done examining the green filly, a pink box marked with her cutie mark at her side. “We really appreciate all the help.”

The agent was familiar with the hospital and the ponies running it - Lyra had to visit periodically, and Bon Bon frequently accompanied her. As silly as the Ponyville's medical professionals often were, they never failed in their duties, and together made Lyra’s quality of life so much better. Something Bon Bon was eternally indebted to them for.

And she always paid her debts.

The doctor drooled, desperately trying to avoid staring at the box faintly smelling of vanilla and chocolate. “Err, yes. I love my job and all that. See you next Tuesday. Now, go and enjoy the celebration!”

Nurse Red Heart walked by the open door, her attention instantly brought to the sweets. “Doctor, is that a box of Bon Bon’s mini donuts?”

“Back off! These are mine! MINE!”

The green filly was ushered away as Bon Bon quickly led her outside, just as the doctor hissed at the nurse, who started throwing pencils.

Bon Bon smirked. This routine was well known to her by now.

In a hospital, it was crucial for all the medical staff to work together for the betterment of their patients. The Ponyville hospital was filled with true veterans of all Ponyville’s strangess, treating all manner of injuries with expertise not seen anywhere else in Equestria, with maybe the exception of the medical corp of Royal Guard, who had better equipment and training but only half the experience a pony like nurse Red Heart had.

But all of this went right out the window when snacks got involved. The average hospital staff worked twelve-hour shifts, surviving on coffee and pure stubbornness. Having anything sweet with the coffee was a blessing, and unending warfare was waged over the contents of a pink box next to the coffee machine, delivered every morning by Bon Bon herself as a show of gratitude.

The nurse deftly parried a thrown stethoscope, snatched the box of donuts out of the doctor’s hooves, and slammed the doors behind her in one fluid motion. The thin material suffered an impact, causing a pony-shaped outline to be dented into it. The nurse, the same kind nurse who stood up to the royal guard for Anon and cheered for her when she had returned from Canterlot. The same nurse who made sure Anon was okay after every checkup and offered her a lollipop. That very same nurse now cackled madly. “Hahaha! Sweet, sweet victory!”

"Give them back, you she-demon!" was the muffled response from the doctor's office.

"Never!"

After the jumper and the agent discreetly vacated the hospital premises, the sounds of conflict were drowned out by murmurs of the town square, prepared fully for the festival.

Anon gulped. If she thought the town had been crowded before, now it was absolutely packed. There were more equines per square meter here than in the average Mongol horde.

Bon Bon stepped into the crowd. Anon following close, head hung low, ears swaying and turning in every direction, tail tucked in between her hindlegs. The filly noticed whole groups of ponies erupting in songs - heartsongs.

Their existence was worrying for Anon.

What caught her attention was the fact that ponies could just… refuse to be a part of a heartsong. She saw several times Lyra and Bon Bon simply snap themselves out of a heartsong when they were pressed for time. Continuing on with their day like there wasn't a musical going on around them.

Anon, unfortunately, didn't have that option. Well, not anymore at least. Since her natural defense against altering magic was stolen from her, even the relatively harmless forms of altering magic became a serious danger for the jumper, be it mind, soul, body, or even emotions.

And what a shame it was. Heartsongs, for all their worrying implications, were actually pretty fun. But the loss of self-control made it unacceptable for her to partake in them. From what she saw, the magic simply relayed strong emotions from one pony to another. She had enough experience with different magic systems to recognise that emotions were quite magical in this world, alongside everything else. Enough emotions equaled lots of magic, and poof! You get a musical number, enjoy!

But Anon had a secret weapon to protect her from suddenly springing into dance and song.

A pair of ear plugs.

One cannot sing along to music they cannot hear.

It wasn't an ideal solution, but as the age-old adage goes…

If it's stupid, but it works, it ain't stupid.

As she was pulling them out of her saddlebags, the green filly saw her.

Bon Bon nudged the filly. “Spring, we need to hurry, the-”

“Heya!” greeted them Pinkie Pie “Are you having a great day? I'm having a great day! An absolutely super duper day! I lost a game of hide and seek against ninjas again but otherwise it's a super duper great day!”

The pink mare traveled through the overcrowded town square with, frankly, concerning ease. Somehow managing to avoid bumping into anyone despite moving like a kangaroo on crack.

"Hello Pinkie, excited for the festival?” Bon Bon asked casually, but Anon could swear she saw her eye twitch just a little.

“Am I excited for a party?” Pinkie questioned, hopping from place to place in a pink, gravity defying blur, her expression deeply thoughtful as she battled that philosophical dilemma. “Of course I am! And it's making me s-s-shake! Oh, wait, that's the pinkie sense.”

Bon Bon paled, grabbing Spring in a split second as all color vanished from her face. “Twitchy twitch?”

“Nope!” Pinkie said cheerfully, totally ignoring Anon glaring at Bon Bon for grabbing her, and Bon Bon’s sheepish smile and whispered apology. “Tail spin, itchy hoof, ear sway. Oh! A party! Yes! A party is coming. I have to prepare my supplies!”

Bon Bon, relieved now that the possibility of twitchy twitch was gone and with it the likelihood of anvils falling from the sky, pointed vaguely at the whole town fully decked out for the festival. “Well, there is a celebration in town.”

Pinkie shook her head. “No! Not this party. This party is super big and not a surprise at all. Tailspin, itchy hoof, ear sway is for a surprise party. Celebrations and national holidays are itchy hoof, ear sway and then tailspin. You know what that means? Somepony new is coming to Ponyville!”

Anon cleared her throat. “Not to rain on your parade, but aren't there literally hundreds of people arriving in droves?”

Pinkie waved her off. “Silly filly, I don't have a parade, that was canceled due to budgeting issues! And these ponies are here just for the celebration. Making friends is great, but so many new ponies living in Ponyville would crash the housing market! Again! Welcome Surprise Parties™ are for new permanent residents only."

Pinkie Pie stopped suddenly mid sentence, mouth open. “Oh, it's nearly twelve already? I have to be ready when Twilight arrives so I don’t break the show's continuity! Cheerios!

Anon blinked. There was a puff of dust in the shape of a pony where Pinkie stood just a moment ago.

“Bon Bon,” the filly whispered

“Yes?”

“I think I'm scared of the Pink One.”

“Ah Spring.” Bon Bon said. “We are all scared of the Pink One.”

The earth pony paused. "Wait, it's nearly twelve already? Lyra's rehearsal! I promised I’d be there!"

A beige hoof grabbed the jumper by the scruff of her neck, throwing Anon on Bon Bon's back. "Hold on tight, we’re going full speed!"

"What-"

Anon wanted to say more, mostly in the spirit of "What the hell you are doing, I can walk normally now", but the words died in her throat, partially because she swallowed a fly, but mostly because Bon Bon started galloping through the crowd at breakneck speed and the filly was too busy holding on for her dear life, contemplating breaking her cover and teleporting into safety, likely sacrificing her chance to save the world from an evil goddess of darkness in the process.

All in all, a normal day in Ponyville.

Lyra strummed her instrument, sweat dripping from her forehead

The town pavilion, a large building in the exact middle of Ponyville serving as both a community center and the town hall, was rarely ever quiet. Something that Mayor Mare, whose office sat above the main meeting room, would readily disclose to anypony looking like they were listening to her gripes.

But this time, it wasn't an emergency meeting after the latest disaster, or a Pinkie Pie party shaking the very foundation of the building while Mayor Mare tried to complete her latest stack of paperwork, no. This time, there was music.

Every musically inclined pony in town was assembled here, preparing for the celebration. Fluttershy might have had the most important part, Princess Celestia’s entrance number, but a bird choir could hardly carry the whole Summer Sun Celebration.

When the last chord sounded, the final performance of the dress rehearsal reached its end.

"Adequately done, ponies! Almost without flaw." Octavia 'praised' them in her typical Canterlot accent, the cellist's eyes narrowing when met with a few empty chairs. "Except for the no shows! Go home everypony and get some rest."

The pavilion erupted into the chaos of many ponies leaving all at once, while Lyra gave a weary sigh. She loved playing her lyre, and she lived from the adoration of her audience, but playing several hours with barely a pause was exhausting. A sentiment shared by most ponies gathered for the rehearsal.

“Hey Lyra!” said the exception to this rule in a happy, chirping soprano next to the unicorn.

For a town its size, Ponyville had a surprisingly large number of professional musicians. Still, there was enough space needed to be filled by the more amateur performers. Summer Sun Celebrations were big… Well, celebrations. More a festival dedicated to the Princess and the summer than anything else. First was the all-night party. Traditionally, adult ponies would forgo sleep for that whole night to not miss Princess Celestia raise the sun. This was followed by yet another round of celebrating in the morning, this one more family fun focused.

It was a lot of celebrating, is the point.

And so there were some amateurs brought in to fill the spots. After all, what kind of celebration would it be without music?

Ditzy Doo stretched her wings, trumpet in its case under her hooves. “I think we did great! Is she always this bossy?”

Ditzy, Ponyville’s only post-mare. Many would be surprised to find her here, instrument in hoof. But the same talent that made her a great endurance flier also made her great at playing wind instruments, as the mare was seemingly never without breath. And while her hoof-to-eye coordination wasn't the best, what she lacked in fine motor skill, she more than made up for in sheer enthusiasm and her refusal to be discouraged by failure.

“Who? Octavia? No, not normally,” Lyra replied. “But when her career is concerned? Then all bets are off.”

Ditzy scratched her head. "Oh, I guess it's important for her?"

Lyra's gaze hardened, her eyes speaking of countless hours spent practicing together with Octavia, of countless broken strings, late night practice and nervous breakdowns. “You have no idea.”

“O-okay?” Ditzy said. “I just wanted to ask how Spring is doing.”

Lyras ears dropped. “She is doing… fine.”

“Uh huh,” the post-mare winced. “That bad?”

Lyra grabbed her by her shoulders, shaking the poor mare. “I don't know what to do anymore! She still acts like there’s a hydra hidden around every corner. Not even Fluttershy is so uncomfortable around other ponies. Fluttershy!”

A gentle wing patted the unicorn on the shoulder. “Shhh, it's alright.”

“It isn't alright!” Lyra spat out. “Spring Break deserves better than this! Two weeks have gone by and she’s still walking on eggshells around us!"

Anger bubbled deep in Lyra’s chest. Spring Break never complained, never asked for anything non-essential. She avoided being touched, and was crazy about food. Sometimes they would find her in the pantry, checking if it was stocked and urging them to go shopping the second it was even partially empty.

And the scars, telling their own horrifying story.

Somepony hurt Spring Break, not once. But again and again and again. The filly kept going, the filly survived.

Spring Break lived and she would carry her scars, all of them.

It made Lyra’s blood boil. The mere thought of hurting a foal like that. To make a little filly so scared for where her next meal will come from, to make her think that she cannot be safe anywhere ever. To make her feel guilty when anypony shows even the most basic kindness to her.

And she couldn't do anything to help her.

"Spring is scared and on guard all the time. Heck, she doesn't even sleep in her bed! I even got her an enchanted cloud mattress, but she still sleeps on the floor!"

"A cloud mattress?" Ditzy said wistfully. "I tried to get one for Dinky. She always wanted to try, and she was so upset when she found out that unicorns can't walk on clouds! But they cost nearly as much as my house, so the only way I could get one is if a doctor wrote me a prescription. And I doubt they would prescribe a bed for bad eyesight."

Lyra wilted. "I just don't know what to do, Ditzy."

There was a pause for a few seconds, broken by the gray pegasus.

“That does sound bad," admitted Ditzy, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "It's funny, y'know? I used to think exactly the same. Before.”

Her lazy eye, trailing behind, was firmly locked onto the case of her instrument, covered in stickers.

"That I'm not good enough. That she would be better somewhere else, with somepony else."

One of them read: To the best mom.

“You want to know a secret?" Ditzy smiled, a proud kind of smile of somepony who made the best with the cards they were dealt. A smile that would wait for you at home, to soothe your worries and give you a hearty meal. The smile on which the world is built when you are small and scared. "Nopony knows what they are doing when it comes to parenting. All those guides for new parents? Yeah, those are pretty on paper, but they won't help you much. You just have to go, and do stuff.”

She laughed, memories flashing in her mind, each more precious than any treasure.

“And yup, you will stumble. And fall, probably break a few bones too, but that's a part of it. Never stop being there for your little one. Let them know they always have a pony in their corner, backing them up. Even when you, or them, make a mistake." She paused. "No, especially when you make a mistake. And there will be a lot of mistakes. But you know what? That's okay. As long as we learn, we become a little better than we were yesterday. That's what matters."

Ditzy ended her speech, only now realizing that Lyra stood in place, slack jawed. "Ditzy I…that's… wow,” Lyra managed to say.

The post-mare started to laugh nervously. " Heh, sorry. I didn't want to-”

"No no! Thank you! You helped a lot."

Lyra smiled. Ditzy did help her, she gave her something she didn't have before.

Perspective.

She wanted to help Spring - so what if she only had another week for it? She said to Ditzy she tried everything, but that wasn't true, was it? She only tried everything she had come up with so far.

She just had to keep trying.

"Really?" the pegasus asked, almost sounding surprised.

“Yes! Thank you!”

As if on cue, the doors burst open. In sprinted Bon Bon with Anon on her back, shaking and giving the earth pony mare her best stink-eye. Her mane was even wilder and messier than usual. “Was this necessary? My life flashed before my eyes. Twice! Where did you even learn to move like that?”

The beige earth pony didn't pay any heed to the filly riding on her back, pushing onwards. “Special PE class, and shush! We’re late as it is.”

Bon Bon slowed down her pace, trotting into the already mostly vacated and silent pavilion. “Wait, where is everypony?”

"Bonnie! Here!" Lyra waved at them, hiding a tinge of pain spiking from her back.

"I'm sorry Honey," Bon Bon sighed. "We must have gotten stuck in the crowd."

Lyra waved her off. "You’re on time, actually. The rehearsal ended early because a few performances were canceled at the last minute."

"Well, that's a shame," said Anon, both mares giving her a quizzical look. "What?"

"I thought you didn't like music?" Bon Bon asked.

Anon jumped off the mare’s back, landing with as much grace as a small horse can. "Eh, no? What gave you the impression that I don't like music?"

"Spring, you use earplugs every time there is music in town," deadpanned Bon Bon.

"T-that's different!" she retorted

"How?" Bon Bon asked.

"It's just is!"

Lyra stepped between the two, ending the arguments. "Anyway, you want to go and get lunch?"

A loud rumble came from Anon's belly.

"I’ll take this as a yes," laughed Lyra. “Ditzy, you want to go with us?”

The post-mare shook her head. “I have to pick up Dinky, but you three have a nice time!”

“We will!” waved Lyra as the trio walked outside into the busy street, a pair of guards Anon recognized cleared traffic from a patch of road so a flying chariot could land. Steel Wind looked depressed as ever as he stepped aside, while Stalwart gave a salute to the landing guards, only for his exasperated colleague to nudge him with a wing until he put his hoof down.

Out the chariot stepped a pony. A purple unicorn mare, with the cutie mark of a six-pointed star.

And immediately collapsed on the cobblestone floor, muttering things unintelligible. It sounded something like ‘I hate PE’, but what it really was was anypony's guess.

A baby dragon hopped out after her, waving at the royal guards. "Thanks for the ride, guys!"

Sweetie Drops held her breath.

Twilight Sparkle and Spike were in Ponyville.

Operation Harmony had officially began.

Author's Note

Hello!

I'm pleased to inform you that I haven't spontaneously combusted! (yet)

This chapter was… hard to write. Not in the normal way, like, I don't know what to write, I cant find the right words. This was more of: My medication is slowly killing me, my body is falling apart and I'm physically unable to move kind of hard.

But I'm back on track! Again with the help of PseudoBob Delightus, please give them a big round of applause. They had a hell of a job with this one (considering it was mostly written by me at 3am, unable to sleep for two days straight.)

I accidentally wrote a manual on how to make an IED into this. (Was bit of a tangent so I delete it and also BOMB) There are few parts I don't remember writing at all.

Hope you enjoyed it! See ya all soon again with the next chapter. (hopefully, at this point, the spontaneous combustion seems like more and more probable option)

Chapter Nine: Once Upon A Time

"Thanks for the ride, guys!"

Spike waddled up to the mumbling purple mare laying on the cobblestone road, offering Twilight a claw and helping her back up. “Come on, Twilight, you can do this!”

“But I don't want tooo!” she whined. “Everything hurts! I swear I will never fail a PE class ever again. That private tutor the Princess hired is a crazy pony!”

Her laments fell on deaf ears, probably because Spike technically didn't have any. “I dunno,” shrugged Spike. “Celestia recommended him, so he must know what he's doing.”

Twilight gave him an empty stare. “He shot a crossbow at me, Spike.”

“I thought he just made you play dodgeball?”

“That is how he played dodgeball.”

The young drake scratched the fins on his head. “Well, we have a job to do. Don't you remember what Celestia said?”

Twilight brightened up, gesturing for the dragon to hop on her back. “You’re right. I am her student, and I’ll do my royal duty!”

Her renewed vigor only lasted for a few seconds as the weight of the baby dragon caused her legs to wobble, but Spike remained totally oblivious to her struggle. “Great! So we'll go and try to make some friends, like the Princess wanted you to?”

“Ah-What? Ehm, no,” Twilight said, trying to keep standing. “I meant checking on the preparations, and then studying on the return of Nightmare Moon.”

The young drake tugged at his caretaker's mane. “Twilight! At least try! Who knows, maybe the ponies in Ponyville have interesting things to talk about!”

Near the two was Pinkie Pie, watching them curiously. Spike gave Twilight a pointed look, at which Twilight rolled her eyes and approached the pink mare. “Um… hello?” she tried.

At which Pinkie gasped, jumped into the air, and vanished, coming dangerously close to breaking the sound barrier in the process.

“Well, that was interesting alright,” said Twilight. “Let's get this over with so I can do something actually important.”

Spike produced a checklist, and gave Twilight directions to their first stop in town. Bon Bon watched them walk away towards Sweet Apple Acres.

Sweetie Drops was giddy, almost jumping into the air. This was it - the most important mission in the agency's history. Something they had trained for for years. All the scheming and planning and-

"Spring, anything you want for lunch?" Lyra asked Anon.

-and she, the best agent they had, was stuck watching from the sidelines, keeping an anomaly from destroying everything.

It was unfair, and the injustice stunk. Why? What purpose did this charade have? So the Boss didn't want to imprison the entity, sure. But she could have just let the entity loiter around the palace. That would let Boss monitor Anonymous even better, and wouldn't risk compromising the entire operation.

There must have been something else at stake, but of course, the Boss wouldn't tell.

And then there was the entity's own plan.

Sweetie Drops didn't understand why Anonymous would steal scraps of rusted metal, or search through bin bags behind Rarity's boutique, which, considering that the fashionista sometimes made her own cloth dye, could not have been very pleasant.

Anon was also doing something in the Everfree. Sweetie Drops just didn't know what. Her attempts at trying to stalk into the forest had all failed.

The Boss wanted to keep Anonymous away from danger - away from Nightmare Moon. For what reason she didn't say.

Were she and Nightmare Moon collaborators? Was the entity in the dark alicorn's thrall? Not likely, considering that whatever was Anonymous planning, the Boss didn't mind, even ordering Anon's protection. That implied it would help somehow, but was still dangerous enough to cause worry.

Sweetie Drops went over the materials Anonymous gathered. Rusted metals, assorted chemicals, mostly sulfur. Was the entity making a poison, or maybe a bomb?

Nightmare Moon was an alicorn. What would a little explosion accomplish? Killing an alicorn was impossible. Imprisoning one? Hard, but doable with enough magic. Hurting? Maybe. But killing?

Alicorns were made of magic, like normal ponies were made of water. It built them, sustained them. An alicorn was more energy than flesh.

And energy doesn't just vanish into nothing.

What else could Anonymous use? The entity possessed a few anomalous items - were they the key to understanding her plans?

A spork, a roll of bandages that never ran out, a few other knick knacks with no discovered properties. The Sun orb was the only one of interest.

The fact that the entity had the Sun orb on itself was deeply worrying.

The Sun orb, and its sister the Moon orb, were extremely powerful versions of magelights. A storage device for magical energy.

Normal magelights would simply store a spell for later use, but the Sun orb could store nearly infinite amounts of raw mana and allow the wielder to use spells without using their own magical reserves.

But Sweetie Drops never saw Anonymous utilize this. She knew how it looked when one was using the Sun orb, the lack of telltale glow from the horn made it fairly hard to track - making it an ideal tool for a prankster - but there were still signs a very perceptive pony could pick up on.

And yet, nada. Nothing! The orb was using magic, be it a subtle healing spell, or just feeding energy into Anon, but nopony was doing it! It was like the orb controlled itself somehow!

Anon's plan had something to do with the orb, she could feel it! But what? What diabolical schemes had she concocted? What strange machinations had the entity conceived?

Anon looked to be in intense thought. “I would like some apples, if it isn't too much trouble.”

Or maybe she was thinking about lunch.

Bon Bons’s stomach grumbled.

She found herself also thinking about lunch.

Lyra raised an eyebrow. “Apples? For lunch?”

“... I like apples?” defended Anon weakly.

“The Apples' stall is closed for today, Spring,” Lyra said, in an apologetic tone. “Family reunion. Isn't there something else you want?”

Sweetie Drops got an idea.

Keeping the future element-bearers safe was an integral part of the mission, so having a good excuse to follow Twilight and keep an eye on Anonymous was a win-win scenario.

“Actually, I talked to Applejack yesterday,” Bon Bon interjected. “I promised to stop by and drop off the sweets they ordered for the banquet. Knowing her, she won’t let us go until we try something.”

Lyra gave her a look. “You sure? Little fillies need their nutrition!”

“I'm sure. It's the Apples we’re talking about.”

Lyra tapped her shin, pretending to think about the hard decision of letting somepony else make food for them. “Well, you've convinced me,” Lyra shrugged and began walking towards the orchard. ”Onwards to Sweet Apple Acres!”

Bon Bon giggled. “Lyra, I need to stop at the shop to get their order first!”

The unicorn stopped mid-step and turned around. “To the shop!”

Sweet Apple Acres.

Anon couldn't help but think of the night not so long ago, bleeding and limping in the shadow of apple trees, reaching for the houses standing like a beacon in the fields.

Now there was light, music and dance. A family reunion, with everything families offered, on a bright, colorful day.

Let's hope it isn't the last.

Just outside the porch, the same porch Anon had collapsed on, were tables, and ponies around them. Eating and dancing to cheerful songs played by a lone earth pony with a fiddle.

Lyra raised a brow at this. “Is that Octavia?”

"Howdy Bon Bon!” Applejack welcomed them. “What a fine day we are havin’!”

Shudders went down their collective spines.

Applejack didn't look normal.

Or sane.

Anon started to get worried. Not because Applejack's eye was twitching, not because her smile looked more and more unhinged.

No, Anon was worried because of the big, metaphorical light bulb lit above the farmer's head.

Applejack had gotten an idea, and Anon was ready to run for the hills, screaming.

"Just here to drop this off-" Bon Bon pointed at the box balanced on her back. "-and then we can get out of your mane."

In Applejack's mind, something clicked.

Ideas are strange things. You let your thoughts wander and, sometimes, they come back with a souvenir.

Or a bomb.

"Don't ya wanna stay for brunch?"

Lyra, perceptive enough to notice the mad gleam behind the farm pony's eyes, backed off a little. "We wouldn't want to impose."

Even Anon, who was willing to risk a lot for the promise of a good meal, decided to cut their losses. “Yup, totally that's the problem,” she nodded. “Imposing. Not fearing for our lives.”

Desperation marred Applejack's muzzle. "Impose? Nah! Y’all basically family!" she said a little too forcefully.

Lyra opened her mouth, but Bon Bon raised an authoritative hoof. "Applejack, what's really happening?"

The farm mare collapsed to the ground, clutching her stetson close to her chest. "I can't stand it! They've been bickerin' for hours!"

"Who?" asked Lyra.

"My grand uncles, Strudel and Golden Delicious!" Applejack yelled. "I tried to separate them by sittin' this fancy Canterlot unicorn between them but now they just shout louder! My head been hurtin' somethin' fierce from it all, I just had to get some fresh air. And I live on a farm! There's only fresh air!”

Bon Bon raised an eyebrow. "So you want us to sit between them to separate them further?"

"Not exactly," Applejack waggled her hooves in the air. “Ya see, if you three join, we oughta change the whole seating arrangement. This way, we can use template seven point eight, category C. That should fix the issue, lickety split!”

The jumper's gaze shifted between the enormous pile of apple-related foods on the tables behind Applejack and the orange mare's crazed stare. “Yeah, I'm not sure I trust that.”

"Please, stay for brunch!" begged Applejack, only her family pride preventing her from falling to her knees. A whole day of having to listen to two of her relatives argue about nothingfor hours was too much to bear. "I'll give you anything!"

"Sure then. Give us lunch, a pillow for me to sit on, and two glasses of cider from your stash - cold."

Bon Bon and Anon stared at Lyra. "What?" she shrugged. "Just because Bonnie is the business mare doesn't mean I'm a pushover."

Applejack, who frankly was quite ready to give them half the farm and Big Mac's hoof in marriage, shook Lyra's hooves, lifting the poor mare and shaking her in the air, while Lyra grimaced. "Thank you, thank you! You won't regret it!"

Anon felt the universe itself smirk, their impending doom drawing closer.

"Oh, I'm sure we will."

Just think about the food.

Applejack's idea hadn't backfired.

Backfired implies fire.

The food is good.

This was more of an explosion.

And unfortunately for Bon Bon and Lyra, they found themselves in the epicenter.

"And this is Macintosh," Granny Smith pointed a shriveled hoof at a picture of Big Mac, from long before he'd earned the 'Big' part of his name, happily sleeping in his crib. "Ain't he cute in his nappy?"

Meanwhile, the adult Big Mac was hit with a blast-wave of embarrassment, tearing at his self-esteem, quickly followed by a fireball of awkwardness, searing his cheeks with a blush so potent it showed through his already red fur.

He did not make it.

"Awww," cooed the ponies surrounding the pair and Granny Smith in unison.

At first, it all seemed to go well. The seating changed, and while Lyra and Bon Bon enjoyed their cider and Anon her lunch, the bickering uncles, now separated by a wall of ponies and three whole tables, were content to just glare at each other.

But there was one detail poor Applejack missed.

That being bringing a pair with a foal to a family reunion and introducing them as old family friends would have a few unexpected side effects.

It started innocently enough. An anecdote here, a joke there, few stories shared between them, and before she could think of the consequences of her actions, Lyra mentioned how she and her partner were foster parents, still learning about being proper guardians for a foal.

This, of course, resulted in every parent at the table immediately showering them with their advice, tips, horror stories and the doom and gloom of having to deal with a child entering puberty. Escalating in scale until Granny Smith pulled out the most dreaded weapon of mass embarrassment known to ponykind.

The family album.

At which point, everypony not yet having foals of their own promptly evacuated, knowing the inevitability of pointed looks, small nudging and the questions like, “And when are you going to get me some grandfoals?”

More annoyingly for Bon Bon, Twilight had somehow snuck away during the chaos, defeating the entire point of being there.

Apparently, Twilight had mastered the finicky art of teleportation, and was using it to avoid awkward social interactions.

Fair enough, thought Bon Bon, being shown another photo - this time of a young Applejack in a frilly dress, eliciting pitiful, squeaky noises from the farm mare as she was totally eviscerated by embarrassment.

And yet somehow, Anon had it worse.

Pain is the only constant. Suffering is the only law.

"Aren't ya a little cutie," said one of the old mares sitting next to Anon, trying to feed her the twenty-sixth apple fritter.

God please end me now.

Anon was wondering for a few moments where all the children were, but she knew now.

They were hiding.

From the herd of grannies.

They were merciless. Pinching her cheeks, calling her cute, and feeding her an astronomical amount of desert. Encircled, with no chance of escape, Anon had to devise a plan so devilish, so cunning, and so clever that nobody could stop her. A plan so genius and flawless-

“Ehm, excuse me, I have to use the bathroom”

Or that. That also works.

Anon went past many ponies who were celebrating a little early. Dancing, singing, playing. Simply being with their family.

It hurt.

She entered the family home, the scent of applewood strong inside.

You’ll find your way home. You’ll see them again.

Silence. A moment of silence was all she needed. To steady herself, just a moment. Nothing more. She sat by the stairs, struggling for breath.

And that’s where the yellow filly with a big, pink bow in her mane found her.

“Howdy, I'm Apple Bloom! Who-” she stopped herself, the green filly averting her eyes. “Are you crying?”

Anon stopped and turned, hoof reaching to her own face - wet. “Apparently yes,” she said, ignoring the twisting, cold feeling in her chest. “Got something stuck in my eye.”

Apple Bloom hesitated for a moment. "Ehm, need some help? Want me to get tweezers?"

"No, it's good." Anon struggled to breathe and show a fake smile at the same time. "It's just tears."

"Oh."

The doors outside opened again and in was practically thrown Lyra, with Bon Bon slipping in, closing the door, and catching Lyra out of the air. "Now, we have to get-"

"She's here!" interrupted Lyra.

"Great!" Bon Bon put the minty unicorn down, two glasses of cider levitating by her head. "Get ready, Spring, we're getting out of here!"

Anon got up, survival instincts kicking in as Bon Bon frantically started barricading the doors.

"What the hell is going on?"

Lyra gave her a guilty smile. "I maybe, just maybe! Kinda sorta started an intergenerational war."

Blink.

Anon pinched herself.

Nope, this is real.

Lyra tapped her hooves on the floor. "Just a small one! Nopony is injured… I think."

"I told you," Bon Bon held the doors as they shook from impacts, the sounds of vicious battle raging outside. "Never compare Granny Smith's and Bumpkin's cooking! It can only end badly."

"All I said was that Bumpkin's fritters are less chewy!" cried out Lyra. "How was I supposed to know that it would start a food fight?"

"The food fight started already?"

The three ponies attention snapped to the inconspicuous yellow filly, smiling in a very concerned way and rubbing her hooves together, before vanishing into her room, and coming back with a large sack filled with pies. "I can't believe I nearly missed it. The food fight is the best part!"

With a feat of strength typical of earth ponies, the filly ripped the doors open while a stunned Bon Bon watched Applebloom dive into the fray, a pie in each hoof. "Geronimo!"

"This is a strange family," concluded Anon, watching the Battle of the Apples unfold.

"Yeah, I can't imagine what it must be like living with such silliness," said Lyra, climbing onto the window frame. “Well, time to jump out the window and escape! Let's go! …Ehm, Bonnie? I can't move.”

“You got stuck, didn't you?” sighed Bon Bon.

"... Help."

“I don't think I ever want to see a single apple ever again,” Anon moaned.

Too. Many. Apples.

The trio was back in town, Bon Bon walking side by side with Lyra, the unicorn leaning on Bon Bon and Anon following behind, deep in thought.

She'd had a day. The hour of Nightmare Moon's return was creeping closer and closer, and if everything went well, she would resume her quest soon after.

Anon sighed. This world was a reprieve, but she would have to leave it behind.

It was for the best. The ponies of this world deserved their peace, their lives. She was an intrusion upon this world, nothing more.

But, despite the thought leaving a bad taste in her mouth, Anon had to admit she would miss this one a little.

And it might have been all a lie. Lyra didn't buy toys for Anon. Bon Bon didn't bring an interdimensional intruder to the doctors. Didn’t cook three meals a day for a dirty thief.

They did it, they cared, for Spring Break. However short her stay was. However fake her existence was. They cared.

Spring Break was a lie. But it was a nice lie, and Anon found herself wanting to keep lying, to continue being Spring Break, for just a little longer.

Coward! You have a home! A family! You've stolen enough from them already.

The jumper grit her teeth. She had her mission, her goal. Her quest. Plenty of reasons to keep going until it was all done. All she did was take. A coward, a thief, a liar, and a fake. They would be better off without her, and by leaving she would give them back their chance at happiness .

She owed at least that to them.

Her musings were cut short as she saw a purple unicorn walk the streets towards Rarity's boutique, talking with a purple drake on her back.

Is that Twilight?

Except something was different about her.

This being that her mane looked like it had been hit by a tornado filled with electric eels. Spike snickered, and could barely hold back his laughter every time he looked at her.

Anon glanced at the sun. Still pretty high in the sky, so she had plenty of time. The only thing she had left to do was prepare her equipment, and that would only take a few minutes at best.

Twilight entered the boutique.

Anon thought about following inside under the guise of wanting another dress, but decided against it. She wanted to follow Twilight to the apple orchard. Going through the farm and getting too close to the edges of Everfree forest was improbable, but possible. The monsters residing inside were getting more and more agitated and if Twilight got hurt, the whole world was basically screwed. But the boutique?

Twilight would be safe there. From the file she had on the fashionista, Rarity didn't strike her as somebody who would do harm unto others, with maybe the exception of anyone insulting her latest designs.

But even then, she probably wouldn't maim them too much.

On second thought, maybe making sure Twilight walked out of there alive wasn't such a bad idea.

"Hi there!"

"Agh!" Anon yelped in a very dignified way, definitely not squealing like a velociraptor.

"Your invitation!" Pinkie Pie had materialized out of the blue, with a big, wide smile on her face. In hoof was a piece of paper covered in drawings of balloons and some, for the jumper, unreadable scribbles. "Enjoy the party! And be careful of mosquitoes, wink wink!"

Before Anon could muster a reaction, the pink pony bounced away, leaving her with the invitation.

“Huh.”

Wait, does she know I threw the knife at her?

Lyra leaned over her shoulders. “A surprise party in the library? You want to go?”

Anon looked at the card. “Whose party is it?”

The minty unicorn squinted at the tiny, decorative hoof-writing. “A unicorn named… Twilight Sparkle.”

Anon thought about it. It was another chance to be near Twilight and the five mares on the night of Nightmare's return. A critical time deciding the fate of this entire world, even if the chance of anything going wrong was slim until tomorrow morning. Attending another social gathering wasn't exactly tempting.

She swallowed her fear. Would this world branch be any different than the others? Would Nightmare Moon arrive early? Later? Not at all?

She didn't need to be at the party, technically. At least she hoped not. The seals holding Nightmare Moon would break tonight, but she would arrive at dawn.

But what if this world branch was different from the previous ones? What if Nightmare Moon returned a few hours earlier than expected?

Bon Bon coughed, snapping the distracted filly back to reality. “I think I should go, it's polite to welcome a new pony to Ponyville, after all.”

The green filly's eyes hardened.

“I want to go too,” Anon said.

“But first I need to get my dress.”

Parties.

Parties meant many things for many people. A place to have some fun together with your friends, a chance to get so inebriated one's breath can be used as a makeshift flamethrower, or something to avoid if the idea of a big room filled with sweaty strangers isn't particularly enjoyable.

For Pinkie Pie, parties were more than simple social gatherings - they were works of art and science at the same time. Fun distilled and concentrated, the essence of everything that made life worth living. Prepared and curated to perfection.

And as it goes with most distilled and concentrated substances, too much and you risk either a hangover, poisoning, or a fiery explosion.

But Pinkie Pie was an expert in her field, the best of the best, unstoppable in her mission of providing fun and laughter.

The pink mare walked toward the punch bowl, somehow summoning from her puffy mane a comically large spoon, a tool rivaling the true spork in its destructive potential, and took some of the punch into it. Her muzzle scrunched up, as the light blue mare responsible for preparing the punch sweated bullets as she waited for the judgment passed on her by the pink one.

"Neat."

The aspirant, spared death, doom, and further perspiration, let out a sigh of relief, as Pinkie Pie bounced off to rearrange individual pieces of confetti for reasons known only to her.

Anon, who had watched the whole scene, decided that Celestia must have made some terrible mistake when she said that Pinkie Pie needed protection.

As far as Anon was concerned, everybody needed protection from her.

The library tree of Ponyville was seeing the most activity in decades, with dozens of ponies sneaking in to help surprise the new arrival, acting like they were doing something secret and hidden, despite the public invitations and the very loud party pony leading the charge.

The jumper had to admit, despite at first abhorring the idea of being surrounded on all sides by this many strangers in a room this small, so far it had been… not bad.

Anon tugged at her dress, shifting the weight of her hidden equipment underneath the fabric.

The dress itself was another present from her caretakers, one she never thought she would use. Right now, it served to hide the fact that she was geared for war, and to make her dangerously cute. If she couldn't defeat Nightmare Moon by force, she would definitely give her diabetes with excessive cuteness.

Anon let the calming weight of her gear ground her, filtering out the noisy party preparations around her.

She would withstand it. She was ready.

Her caretakers were close by, chatting with ponies who came by, asking about their day and wishing them a nice Summer Sun Celebration.

Anon took a deep breath.

She was confident, prepared. Her powers were at the highest point they had been in months, if not years. There was nothing that could scare her, nothing that would stop her now, she was-

Somebody touched her on the shoulder.

A few things happened quickly.

First, Anon nearly jumped out of her own skin, and maybe this dimension altogether. Her horn lit up on instinct as she turned to face whatever threat had just appeared.

Second, Silver Spoon nearly screamed as she came face-to-face with a suddenly both very scared and very scary green filly in a pretty green dress.

Third, Diamond tiara stifled a laugh as both of the foals stared at each other, Silver Spoon giving a sheepish smile. “Hi?”

Anon sighed, the magic in her horn powering down. “What do you want?” she said coldly, while trying to remember where she knew these two from.

Silver Spoon was taken aback, but Diamond stood undeterred by her tone. “We wanted to talk to you.”

“Why?” was the simple retort.

Diamond gave Anon the patented 'You serious?' look. "To apologize, obviously."

"For what?" Anon asked.

The two rich fillies exchanged a sidelong glance.

"For calling you lame, duh," said Diamond.

"And uninteresting!" chipped in Silver Spoon helpfully.

It took a few seconds before a spark of realization hit. "Oh yeah. Forgot about that."

"You forgot?" Diamond raised an eyebrow. "Just like that?"

"Yup."

Diamond paused. "So you don't care?"

"Not particularly, no."

Diamond stared at the green filly. Anon was getting less comfortable with the conversation by the second.

Silver Spoon, seeing the developing awkward silence, sacrificed herself before the shame and embarrassment forced them to shave their manes and become reclusive monks in Yakyakistan.

"I like your dress!" Silver Spoon blurted out. "It's green, like you!"

Anon blinked, trying to decipher if there wasn't some kind of language barrier between her and the natives, undiscovered before this moment. "Thanks, I think."

There were a few more moments of contemplating the pros and cons of entering a vow of silence in the mountains, before Silver Spoon recovered. "But, eh, isn't the front bit too rigid?"

The gray maned filly pointed with her hoof at Anon's chest. The fabric of the dress looked stretched there, as if something smooth and solid was underneath.

"Nope, that's just how this dress looks."

"Really? That's strange, it-"

Anon never learned what Silver wanted to say after that, as Pinkie Pie suddenly shook, her tail started spinning, and the pony started yelling orders. "All hooves on deck! She's coming! Go go go! No slacking! I see you Wind Chaser, go to your position!"

Before Anon could muster a response and ask what's happening, and why everybody was running around like headless chickens, Bon Bon walked to her side. "Don't worry, it's just Pinkie being Pinkie. But we should definitely hide before-" pitch darkness befell the room. "-she turns off the lights."

There was stillness and anticipation in the air as they waited for their prey to walk through the doors.

Bon Bon smiled, waiting for the right time to spring a trap always left her excited like a little filly and this was a feeling nearly identical.

"So how do you like the party so far, Spring?" she whispered to the air next to her.

Silence.

She reached a hoof into the empty space where she expected Anon to stand.

"Spring?"

Nothing, but the feeling of draft from an open window.

She ran, she ran as fast as her tiny legs allowed.

The whispers in her head were unceasing.

Past the town square, past the celebrating ponies in the street, shouting after the crying and running filly.

Run! Run anywhere!

There was a house she knew. The end point of her previous journeys outside - her hooves led her back.

A house that wanted to be a home.

The voices didn't stop, calling on her from the darkness. Whispers getting louder.

Rushing through the entrance, past the living room and the kitchen. Everything was a blur, quickly fading as it was consumed by darkness.

Anon entered the bedroom and slammed the door behind her, shaking too much to even attempt to manipulate the lock.

No attention was given to toys in the corner, to her surroundings. Safety. She needed safety.

Tears flowing, her whole body was shaking, becoming like static. Phasing through the floor. The dress and the gear hidden under it fell from her body and hit the floor heavily with a metallic thud as Anon blinked in and of reality.

Her breathing was fast and her face was wet. The voices from the dark were now screaming. Screaming and begging for help and salvation. Human, animal, alien. Changing and morphing, losing its shape, becoming less and less recognizable

Her voices.

Her old voices.

Light! She needed light!

The Sun orb!

From under the dress, Anon hefted the orb and pulled it close to her chest. She curled up in the pillows and blankets on the floor, heaving and struggling for breath.

The phantoms of her past were still there, only held at bay by the weak barrier of the golden light. Around it was a black void, filled with screeching ghosts.

You abandoned me! Yelled a blurred face of someone she used to know.

You betrayed me! Screamed someone she used to be.

You killed me. Whispered a voice she didn't recognise anymore.

Anon's grip around the orb tightened, sobs leaving her.

"I'm sorry," she said, to family she left, not on her own accord. "I'm sorry," she said to strangers, to friends. Dead now, because she ran away. "I'm sorry," she said to herself - to the parts of herself that she'd let die. All those hopes and dreams, abandoned, faded, and nearly as lost as she was.

The darkness continued to swirl around her, suffocating her, slowly snuffing out the meager light.

And then the door to her room opened.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm with you." A voice not of the dead or lost. Present, real.

Alive.

"I'm here," Bon Bon said, at first with hesitation, but then with conviction. "I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

The shadows were cast away, the room got its color back, the lights were working again.

And there was a pony holding her, whispering to her ear. "Shh. It's okay. It's okay."

Anon was being held - she didn't like being held. It was constraining, caging. It took away her choice. Her freedom.

But, despite this, Anon found that she didn't want to be let go.

The jumper stopped phasing, the static was gone. Just a filly was left, crying in the hooves of an earth pony mare.

"I-I," she choked on the phlegm forming in her throat, her eyes red and puffy from tears.

"It's okay. Breathe. Take your time."

Anon wanted to say something, anything. But she couldn't. She just was.

But maybe being was enough.

Bon Bon grit her teeth, seething with anger.

At herself.

So caught up in her mission, blind to what was right in front of her. She refused to see Anon as anything else but an entity. A mission.

And so she ignored the signs.

Spring Break was a made-up name. The entity wasn't a foal.

But the sobbing green furball in her hooves was real. Her anguish and tears were real - she was supposed to take care of Anon. Make her feel safe.

And what a terrible job she had done so far.

Several clanking noises came from downstairs, followed by wheezing sounding like an epileptic fish.

"Bonnie! Spring!" Lyra called out, trying to catch her breath. "Where are you?!"

"Upstairs, Honey!"

A disheveled, ragged Lyra climbed the stairs, wincing with every step. "Bonnieee, my sweet Bonny-Bon, please," Lyra said between pained gasps. "You want to tell me-"

Lyra stopped mid-sentence, seeing Bon Bon and Anon, sitting on the floor in a hug. The filly still sobbing gently into her hooves. "What happened?"

"M-my f-fault," Anon wiped her tears, her voice raw and shaky. Lyra's shoulders sagging at the sight. "I freaked out and ran."

"It's alright," whispered Bon Bon.

Anon cursed under her breath. Alright? Alright?!

She had traveled so far, survived so much, and now she keeps breaking down and crying? She was better than this! She was supposed to have control over herself! Why-

Deep breaths.

Control your emotions. I'm lucky that Bon Bon didn't see me phasing when she found me.

At least I hope.

The filly tensed up, shutting her eyes, shaking more, gasping for air, despising the closeness of Bon Bon's warm hug, but at the same time hating the idea of the uncaring, dark world outside the safety of her embrace.

Bon Bon had seen Anon's tail clip through the floor. If Lyra noticed…

Panic gripped the agent. She had to calm Anon down, but how?

A note rang out, testing the waters. Anon's ears twitched but otherwise she didn't budge, curled up in Bon Bon's hooves, fast, panicked breaths leaving her.

Lyra continued to play.

The instrument sang, amber magic strumming the strings perfectly. Each chord helping to build a tapestry from the sound.

The song was slow and nostalgic. Just a few notes, dancing off each other and settling in the filly's mind, overpowering the whispers and doubts.

"Feel better?" asked Lyra, her instrument levitating back into its case. She let the lyre fall in carelessly - she had more important things to worry about.

Anon took a deep breath, she was solid once more. Real once more.

In control.

“Mhm.” Anon nodded.

The jumper pried herself free from Bon Bon's hooves, suddenly feeling incredibly silly, and yet…

Better.

"Want us to stay for tonight?" offered Lyra.

Anon stopped, hardly believing she was giving it a serious thought. She was an adult!

You're still playing a role, technically…

It would be strange for a child in her position to refuse. To keep up appearances, she had to accept.

And for no other reason whatsoever.

“...Yes please.”

With an excited glee, Lyra grabbed a book from the bookshelf and jumped. “Want me to read you a bedtime story?”

Bon Bon crossed her hooves and stared down the minty unicorn, now sheepishly smiling while sitting on the floor. “Honey, you’re not sleeping on the ground.”

Lyra gave Bon Bon her best puppy eyes. “Bonnie! Don't ruin the fun!”

But the agent was immune to such underhanded tricks. “I'm not letting you sleep without proper back support. I thought you learned your lesson from that time we went camping. You were moaning in pain for weeks.”

With that, Bon Bon lifted the surprisingly light mattress from the unused bed in the room, throwing it on the floor, where it puffed out and stretched before retaining its previous shape.

Bon Bon glared at the unicorn. “Honey, care to explain why your prescription cloud bed is in Spring's room?”

Lyra gulped, ears drooping. “I gave it to her?”

Before Bon Bon could reply, Anon did, the filly sounding hurt. Lyra flinched just hearing it. “Why? I said the old one was fine…”

“I-I… I wanted to have this place feel like a home for you.”

Anon froze, mouth open, unable to find words.

Lyra laughed uneasily, trying to lighten up the mood but failing. “Beds, well, it sounds silly, but they are kind of symbolic, y’know?” she shot a look at Bon Bon. “Home is the place where we feel safe, secure. And beds, well, they represent it.”

The unicorn mare sighed.

“And when you didn't want to sleep in the bed we gave you, I thought that maybe if I just make it better that… that you would feel a bit better in turn.”

Lyra, foolish as she felt right now, slouched down in defeat, ears pinned to her skull. Her attempt with the bed didn't work out at all, the only thing she succeeded at was making climbing the stairs a torturous experience, but she would try again.

Spring Break deserved as much.

“That was never the problem.”

Anon was… upset, yes. Still shaking after, well, breaking down and crying.

“The bed was never the problem," she repeated. "I just… can’t sleep when I'm too comfortable. It isn't something you can fix with a better bed."

Bon Bon realized something, the information from the doctor’s examination, from her own experience. All fell into place.

“You should’ve said so,” said Bon Bon simply, appearing casual despite the picture now formed in her head. "Lounges, Lavatories & Leeward are having a sale. We can get you a bedthere that's better for you. Sounds good?"

Anon nodded, a faint smile on her muzzle. “Sounds good.”

“Now, who wants to read some Daring Do!” exclaimed Lyra. “It's about an explorer traveling through all these dangerous places and collecting artifacts. Doesn't that sound exciting?”

The jumper giggled. “Yeah, it kinda does.”

And so they read, laying next to each other on the floor, pillows, and one enchanted cloud mattress in Lyra's case, until snoozing filled the room in the house that wanted to be a home.

And in the morning, the sun failed to rise.

Author's Note

Well, here we go once again. Bit emotional this one. Hope you enjoyed it and stay tuned for the next chapter, where Anon fights god with the power of IED’s.

Chapter Ten, Part One: In a Magical Land

Comfy.

Anon's whole world at the moment could be described as such. Warm, soft, and weirdly fuzzy. A safe haven, sheltered and protected. Unconquerable by all the evils of the world.

Annoyingly, it didn't want to stay that way.

Anon's blanket moved away from her. Exposed now to the cruel, callous universe and its lack of warmth and fuzziness, she started to stir and shift, trying to blindly find her way back. The slowly waking filly's silent pleas didn't go unnoticed, and something akin to a really hairy log reached out to push Anon back into the zone of comfiness.

Anon froze, her blood ran cold as the reality of her situation made itself clear.

She was trapped by an unknown force!

Panic rushed through the filly. As she opened her eyes, her power began building up. Ready for a fight she-

Oh, it's just Bon Bon.

Wait, what?

Anon, now fully awake, realized that she had two problems.

First: she was cuddled up close to the still-slumbering confectioner. The mare had pulled her close on instinct while they slept, and now was refusing to let her go.

Second: she really needed to use the toilet.

Still trapped by the confectioner's hooves, head resting on Bon Bon's belly, Anon finally noticed Lyra holding a camera with a grin. "Smile!"

Flash!

Bon Bon instantly jumped up. Standing at attention and staring blankly into space, she blinked owlishly before snapping out of her confusion. "W-what's going on?"

Lyra d’awwed, holding the newly created photo of Anon and Bon Bon. "This is going straight into the album."

Bon Bon glanced outside, her pupils shrunk into pin pricks in barely concealed panic. The agent's voice quivered as she spoke. "L-Lyra, what time is it?"

The minty unicorn waggled her hoof. "Around six," she said with uncertainty that really did nothing to soothe Sweetie Drop's nerves. "We still have plenty of time before-"

"SIX?!" yelled Anon and Bon Bon at once.

Anon raced to where her discarded dress was, together with her equipment. She gathered them up in a big pile, before sprinting towards the bathroom to get ready again, shutting the doors behind her. Meanwhile Bon Bon rushed downstairs, practically carrying Lyra over her back.

Bon Bon only slowed down at the stairwell, turning to speak to her marefriend as they started their descent down."Why didn't you wake us earlier?! We're behind schedule!"

Nightmare Moon was only minutes away.

And she had somehow managed to oversleep.

"But you two were so adorable together," Lyra replied, leaning against her side for support. Bon Bon was skipping steps in her panic, but resisted leaping the last few steps, taking her marefriend's hoof and helping her on the part from there - those were always the worst.

"And you were working so hard." Lyra continued speaking without missing a beat. At this point, the stairs had become more of a well-practiced and choreographed dance than the challenge they used to be. "So I thought I would let you sleep in a little."

Bon Bon took a deep breath. This was still salvageable. They still had…

About thirty seconds to get ready.

Buck.

Lyra brushed past her, tail playfully swooshing across Bon Bon’s muzzle as the unicorn went to the kitchen.

"It's not like we're going to miss anything important," Lyra noted, casually grabbing a bottle of orange juice from the icebox. "Princess Celestia always gives a speech before raising the sun, so it's not like we're going to miss the important part, right?"

Bon Bon glanced outside, at the now-blank moon, its surface now missing the image of the dark alicorn. "Right," affirmed the agent, sweating and smiling nervously. Lyra shot her a questioning look, her eyes narrowing before a cheeky grin crossed her muzzle. Quickly making sure Anon wasn’t about to burst into the kitchen before approaching Bon Bon.

"Relax, Bonnie," she cupped her marefriend's cheeks, placing a quick kiss on her neck, Bon Bon's ears turning red. "I mean, what's the worst thing that could happen?"

Bon Bon screamed internally. The mood was not only killed, but buried six under in an iron coffin. Chained shut. With a stake put through the heart to prevent resurrection.

Outside, a black mist started to move towards the town center. Darkness on the prowl, sullying the streets. Sending chills down the spines of the few ponies still enjoying the festival outside, hoarfrost marking its steps.

Nightmare Moon had returned.

The town pavilion was a site of utter chaos.

Crowded inside, confused ponies frantically looked at each other in intense worry.

After a round of fanfare, curtains had opened to reveal exactly nothing. Well, in revealing nothing, they did reveal something.

And that something was that Princess Celestia, the Bringer of Sun and the Ruler of Equestria, was missing.

Mayor Mare started sweating profusely, double-checking the time. Four minutes late. Fanfare was still playing in the background, as if the band hoped to summon the absent royal with music.

The Princess was missing.

The Ponyville mayor knew her things. Every bureaucrat - and that was much of what being a mayor is - has to deal with things going missing. Be it misplaced funds, important papers, or the main building of Canterlot Arcane Academy. (It had been turned invisible after a little mishap. The school was compensated, and Twilight apologizes for it to this day.)

Not many had to deal with a lost Princess and the fact that the sunrise was being delayed.

This was going to cause so much paperwork…

"Remain calm everypony!" Mayor Mare called to the crowd. "There must be a reasonable explanation."

Meanwhile, the doors into the pavilion opened slightly. Bon Bon squeezed her head in, sighing in relief and signaling to Lyra and Anon to come in. The three of them slipped in relatively unseen. Lyra immediately spotted a fidgeting Rainbow Dash furiously looking through the crowd for something. "Hey Rainbow, did we miss something?"

The pegasus stopped in the air, waving at them while investigating if the Princess hadn't hidden in one of the curtains.

"Oh, hey Lyra. The Princess is late."

Lyra tensed up. "Late? That's - SWEET MERCIFUL MOTHER, Rainbow! You have a black eye!"

The speedster scoffed and turned her head away from the unicorn, who was now trying to get to her and implement the decisively unnecessary healthcare worried friends tend to do. "What happened? Are you alright? Do you need ice? Speak to me, Rainbow!"

Rainbow rolled her eyes and simply dodged the fretting unicorn. "Geez Lyra, I'm okay. I just had a crash- Ehm, I mean an accident."

Lyra ceased her attempts at gaining flight by hopping, smiling sheepishly at Rainbow who just waved it off.

Bon Bon grinned at this, seeing her chance and capitalizing on the opening. "So, who did you crash into?" she asked coolly.

"Whaaat!?" said Rainbow, her wings fluttering nervously. "Me? Crashing into somepony?! Pfft, that would never..."

"Then what happened?" Lyra smiled back at her partner, winking.

It was all fair ribbing between friends. The pair considered it just desserts for the numerous times their dinner dates were disturbed by one of Rainbow's pranks.

Dash scratched the back of her head "I, eh, got drop-kicked by a purple unicorn."

Bon Bon gave the pegasus an incredulous stare. "... Are you trying to say that you, Rainbow Dash, the captain of the weather team and probably the fastest pegasus I know, were drop-kicked out of the sky by Twilight Sparkle?"

The pegasus rubbed her injury. Her pride hurt more than the injury itself. "Hey! What do you mean, probably the fastest? And how come you know her name?"

Bon Bon shuddered. "I'm from Canterlot. She has… a reputation."

"Reputation?" asked Rainbow. "As what? The Princess' personal ninja? I was just flying around, practicing my moves, when it maybe got a little out of control at the third loop-de-loop, and then wham! I got her hoof in my face!" Dash crossed her hooves and huffed. "Did what her PE teacher taught her, my flank."

Bon Bon gave the pegasus a sly smile, thoroughly enjoying herself despite the situation, remembering having to replace the thatch on her shop twice that month because Rainbow decided to ‘get a snack real fast’. "No, as the biggest bookworm to ever live."

Rainbow slumped down in defeat. "Seriously? A bookworm got me?"

Lyra beamed, pouncing in for the kill. "Oh! I heard about her, doesn't she even live in a library?"

Rainbow landed, a thoughtful expression on her face. There was only one reasonable explanation for this. It was clear as day. No other logical explanation existed in the speedsters mind.

"I think she's a spy," Dash said with absolute confidence, the pair staring at her blankly.

"A spy," deadpanned Bon Bon.

"Yeah! Think about it!" Rainbow displayed her wings, using her primaries to count. "She's acting suspicious. She avoided everypony at her welcome party. And the day after she comes to town, the princess goes missing! It's a perfect explanation! And I have a fifth sense-"

"Sixth," interjected Anon without paying much attention. Preoccupied with watching the clock ticking and counting.

"-Sixth sense that's telling me she's untrustworthy. But don't fear! No spy can sneak around under my nose. I've got my eyes on that Twilight pony! And nopony can get away from Rainbow Danger Dash!"

"The Princess isn't here!" Rarity yelled from the dressing room, still looking for the missing royal, as was Rainbow before getting distracted.

The general murmur in the pavilion died down. The ponies fell silent as the atmosphere inside changed. The temperature dropped, lights flickered and dimmed. A panicked yelp rang out from the crowd as the windows were forced open.

Anon felt a cold chill in the air as familiar magic entered the room. Black miasma, appearing like liquid darkness, crawled through the window and towards the podium. Gaining shape, morphing and changing until she became recognizable to the jumper.

Nightmare Moon.

The sharp, draconic eyes and even sharper fangs. The glistening armor made of blackened and enchanted silver. The utter contempt plain on her features, contrasted against the obvious pleasure she felt from the fear and horror around her.

"Oh, my beloved subjects." Her voice was a mix of suave and elegant, with an undertone of barely held menace just under the surface. It was a voice like a well made dagger. The ponies felt its edge on their throats as she spoke.

Nightmare Moon was a cat surrounded by a bunch of mice, and she would enjoy playing with her food. "It’s been so long since I’ve seen your precious little sun-loving faces."

Meanwhile, Bon Bon moved silently to her position. Preparing to intervene if any of the future Element Bearers appeared to be in trouble. Anon stood in place, back pressed against the wall, ready to escape at a moment's notice.

Anon's trap was set elsewhere, her lure present in the castle. Nightmare Moon would have to go there sooner or later. That was when the jumper would strike - away from any civilians, to avoid risking them getting caught in the crossfire.

Just wait for your chance.

"What did you do to our Princess!?" Demanded Rainbow, flying straight at Nightmare. She was stopped abruptly by two pairs of hooves. Bon Bon and Applejack grabbed the pegasus and dragged her back into safety.

"Whoa there, nelly," Applejack pulled the pegasus down, trying to determine if she should get her lasso out.

The dark alicorn chuckled, the sound far off from the declarations of joy Pinkie Pie was so fond of. "Why? I'm I not royal enough for you? Does my crown no longer-"

And that was the exact moment a purple laser struck Nightmare Moon on the forehead.

The pavilion stood, frozen in place as the Nightmare Moon stared at the tarnished spot on her helmet, more in shock and astonishment than any real pain.

"Twilight! Are you insane?!" yelled Spike at his caretaker.

Twilight blinked a few times, hardly believing what she did herself. "I just did what my PE teacher said. Wait for the opportune moment and then go for the neck," she said in the same tone one talks about the weather.

"What kind of PE have you ponies gone to?!" screamed Rainbow, still held back by the two earth ponies, Applejack reaching for the rope now.

Meanwhile, Mayor Mare, seeing the dazzled dark god, did the first thing that came to mind.

"Seize her! Only she knows where the Princess is!" she ordered.

It was a very simple plan. Effective, even.

But it did overlook some crucial details.

The guards on duty, namely Steel and Stalwart, glanced at the mayor, then at the armor-clad, twice their size, magically gifted, immortal being of legend, then back at the mayor.

"Celestia, I'm not paid enough for this," sighed Steel Wind.

And with that, the guards dove into action.

It wasn't a very long action.

Nightmare Moon's horn crackled with energy, her muzzle twisted with anger. "You foals!"

A wave of dark magic radiated out, the guards dodging at the last second. The blast shattered the windows, showering the panicked crowd with broken glass.

"You will pay for this!" bellowed Nightmare Moon, smoke rising from the scorched spot on her head. "All of you!"

With another wave from her horn, a few blobs of Nightmare Moon's mane were set free, turning into pony-like monsters made of shadow. With jaws filled with long, jagged teeth, and empty eye sockets, they appeared like living silhouettes, except much more murdery and in need of a good dental plan.

"Remember this day, for it is your last!"

A wicked smile graced the night alicorn's lips.

"Get them."

Sweetie Drop struggled.

A pony ran headfirst into the agent, eyes wide with fear. Another one fell on the ground and was about to be trampled, before Sweetie Drops jumped to their aid, lifting them back on their hooves, and vanished into the crowd again before she could be recognized.

Sweetie Drops was trained for this. She was prepared for this.

Lyra was pushed by the bodies struggling to escape the pavilion. The minty unicorn tried to go back inside, looking for any signs of her family. "Bonnie! Spring!"

Her screaming faded into the background, into the cacophony of chaos made by all the other ponies around her, the lone mare unable to stop the tide of ponies pushing her outside. "Bonnie!"

Bon Bon wasn't prepared to hear the love of her life screaming for her to come and save her, to not be able to answer that call.

Sweetie Drops was fighting with every ounce of her willpower against the urge to abandon her post, to forget her goal, to forget the whole agency.

To turn and run to Lyra. Hold her until everything is okay. Tell her that everything will be alright.

But the mission always comes first.

Fluttershy was trapped in the crowd, Rainbow was getting to her, but was finding trouble. The shadow monsters were accosting the blue pegasus, but a blast of purple magic shot some of them, sending them back.

The bearers had absolute priority over everything. After that, Anon.

The mission always comes first.

"Bonnie! Spring! Here!"

Sweetie Drops continued to work, an unseen hoof pushing ponies away, diverting attention as the bearers made their way outside. Made a path for them to follow without them noticing. Protecting them, as the guards fought with the shadow monsters behind them.

There was a sinking feeling in her chest. Tearing at her from the inside, but Sweetie Drops held on regardless.

The mission came first.

Anon ran.

Phasing through the wall was easy. Waiting until she was sure all six of the mares made it out of the pavilion was hard. Watching Lyra looking for her in absolute desperation was harder.

But she had a plan: A trap.

It wasn't like it mattered. So the nice pony who tried her damnedest to make her happy was crying. And? Two weeks, that was the time she'd known her for. And also about the same time they had left together.

After that, Spring Break would vanish, and Anon would continue on her journey.

It didn't matter. This whole world was in danger. One crying unicorn was a drop in the ocean.

People didn't matter. Cities, worlds - so many of them were completely erased every second. What was the crying of one soul in all of that?

It didn't matter. None of it really did in the end.

Anon found something in her eyes.

Tears.

The jumper grimaced.

She was putting herself in danger. She had the power to just jump out of this place. Avoid facing off against what was essentially a god.

But she didn't.

This world could be saved. These people could be saved.

And to do that, she had to leave Lyra behind and run towards the forest. Enact the plan, easy.

Do what needs to be done and don't look back.

And then she heard a scream.

The pavilion was torn apart. The guards were fighting the shadow monsters. Swords and spears met their match against the dark magic used by the alicorn of the night.

One of the shadow monsters slipped past.

Diamond Tiara wanted to run, but she couldn't.

Separated from her parents in the chaos, she ventured into the streets looking for them, only to be chased by the shadow monster. Diamond, in her expensive horseshoes made to look pretty but lacking when it came to helping her run, had slipped and fell. Her leg was now feeling numb, her fetlock bent in a way that made her stomach feel queasy whenever she looked at it.

The monster closed in.

Diamond Tiara tried to stand her ground, unable to do much else. "Stop! You know who my Dad is?" The monster ignored her, simply walking closer. "I-I-f you get any closer he-"

The monster pounced.

"Daddy," she whimpered, eyes closed.

Instead of a flash of pain, Diamond Tiara started to feel movement and the texture of fabric against her fur.

Still fearful, she dared to open one eye.

Anon was dashing through the side streets, away from the main mass of panicked citizens, with Diamond Tiara hastily thrown over her shoulder. A field of gravity-nullifying power enveloped them both.

The monster was just behind them, head unnaturally twisted. Gaining speed and mass, growing bigger, limbs elongating. Walking only on its hind-legs as it grew massive claws on its front ones.

Diamond did the only reasonable thing.

She screamed.

The monster grabbed a garbage can, throwing it after the duo. "Left!" Diamond yelled, Anon dodged, garbage exploding from the can as it hit the cobblestone road next to them. "Right!" A swipe of its claws, destroying a wall of somebody's house, missing the two foals by a few inches.

Anon continued running, evading attack after attack. She needed a place where no civilians would be caught in the crossfire when she started fighting back.

What would be a place where no one in their right mind would hide?

In the middle of the town square grew a large oak tree - the town library.

Bingo.

"But Twilight-"

"No buts!"

Twilight sighed, standing at the doorstep, blocking Spike from exiting. Five mares gathered behind her, impatient and ready to go. "Please Spike, stay here," she said softly.

Spike tried to go around her until a corona of purple magic materialized around him and sent him back.. "I want to help!"

Twilight sat him down, the drake pinned to the floor by his tail despite his continuing attempts to dash out the doors.

"You are helping!" she assured him, placing a hoof on his shoulder. "By staying here."

Twilight's slumped down. She sat in front of him so they were eye to eye, but Spike avoided looking at her. It wasn't right seeing Twilight so…

Afraid.

"If you follow us, you could get hurt… or-" Twilight stopped herself, unable and unwilling to put that thought to words, as if saying it out loud could somehow cause it to become reality. "Please Spike, hunker down. Stay safe until it's over. Please."

Her voice quivered on the last word. Spike was used to the studious unicorn's quirks, but this was unlike anything he had seen before.

The town was in shambles. All those panicking ponies in the pavilion - he'd nearly lost Twilight in the mayhem. Only to be saved by a random passerby. He didn't even remember their face. Everything was blurring together after Nightmare Moon summoned the shadow monsters.

And now everypony was scared, but Twilight at least had a plan - going after the elements of whatever. Trying to defeat Nightmare Moon.

He didn't want to sit around and wait; he wanted to help. Do something useful.

Twilight hugged him.

Maybe he stayed behind, making sure nopony broke into the library. That was doing something, right? Protect the books so Twilight could read them if- when she gets back. "Okay, I'll stay... but ifyou get hurt, I’ll make sure Shining takes away your library card for a month."

Twilight stepped back in mock horror. "You wouldn't!"

"Yes, I would!" Spike sniffed, but didn't cry. Big dragons don't cry. "I would totally do that."

Twilight giggled. It came out somewhat strained. "Then I'll have to make sure to be extra careful… Stay safe, Spike. Protect the library, okay?"

Spike straightened his back, giving a salute. "You can count on it!"

Twilight nodded, hugged him tight, and walked out of the doors, only hesitating on the threshold and looking back three times. The doors shut behind her with finality.

Leaving Spike standing in the now quiet library, the drake suddenly feeling very alone.

Spike tapped his feet on the ground, trying to think about what he'd do until everything was back to normal, because surely, it would go back to normal. There was no other option.

Something clattered on the street.

Without much thought, the drake pushed a bookshelf in front of the doors, blocking it off. Now he was safe. Nopony would be getting to him through that!

A loud noise came from upstairs, where he forgot about the large window and open balcony.

The drake face-palmed.

Something was coming, Spike could hear it stomping above his head and heading down the stairs. Hastily, he reached for the closest weapon he could find - an encyclopedia of plants native to the desert of Saddle Arabia.

Admittedly, it wasn't a very thick book. There were only so many ways to write 'cacti and not much else'.

But what it did have were samples.

Spike opened the book, its prickly pages ready to seriously inconvenience someone. The dragon quickly hid behind another bookshelf. His improvised weapon clenched tightly in his claws as the silhouette of a strange misshapen abomination betrayed to him that something was descending the stairs.

Gathering his wits, Spike prepared for his one chance to end this madness, to strike a monster down, sword- cactus… book with a cactus in hand. He would be celebrated as a hero. Songs would be written about the deeds of Sir Spike, the Shadow Slayer. Statues would be built in his honor, and Twilight would finally allow him to eat emeralds before bed.

He doubted that last one.

The abomination reached the bottom of the stairs.

For his homeland, for his family, for glory!

"CHARGE!!!"

And so he won, defeated the monster, and possibly gained a kiss from the beautiful white unicorn running the town's boutique.

Or at least this was going through his mind as he lay sprawled on the floor, tiny stars dancing around his head.

Diamond gave a grumpy sigh. "Great, now we have to run and hide his body."

Anon stared at her hoof, a little sore after having punched Spike straight in his face. "You okay there, buddy?"

"Ughm," mumbled Spike.

"I'll take that as a no."

The drake dusted himself off, feeling like head trauma had been a theme for him the last few days. "I'm alright. Dragons are built to last." He thumped his chest with a fist for effect. "But what are you doing here?"

Diamond Tiara, still hefted on Anon's shoulder, pointing behind them. "We were running from that!"

At the top of the stairs stood the shadow monster with its wicked grin.

It waved.

Spike did the only reasonable thing.

He screamed and threw the prickly book at the monster.

The thorny item flew at a perfect arc towards the monster. It would have been a great hit, only it flew straight through the monster, landing somewhere in Twilight's bedroom, where it turned into the world's worst landmine.

Spike sighed.

"Dang it."

The monster didn't roar. It didn't make any sound. Long limbs barely touched the floor as it moved. Jaws open, eyes locked on the ponies, empty of any emotions.

Anon tried to come up with a plan of action. The library was a bust. Occupied by a kid, no less. Fighting while there were two children that could get hurt was out of the question. One wrong move, one piece of fast flying debris was all it would take. She had to get them somewhere safer first.

The jumper noticed a trap door, leading down into what had to be a basement.

Better than nothing.

Diamond Tiara let out a yelp as she was unceremoniously tossed at Spike, the dragon barely catching her in time.

"Hide there, I’ll distract it," said Anon, pointing at the trap doors.

Diamond Tiara made an attempt to stand, falling back on Spike. The dragon dragged her into the imagined safety of the basement. "What do you think you are doing? Run!" she yelled after the jumper.

"Don't worry ‘bout me none."

The jumper smirked.

"I have an idea."

Spike looked at the monster, staring at them as it slowly approached, seemingly assured that its prey had nowhere to run now.

The drake hesitated, fighting between his desires to help fight it and helping Diamond get away. Finally, he gave Anon a single nod, before retreating into the basement, Diamond's muffled protests barely audible from under the doors.

Anon didn't turn. They would be safe there.

No, wait.

A little application of her powers. The lock turned, locking them inside the basement.

Now they are safe.

She couldn't risk Spike trying to play hero and getting hurt or killed.

He is a dragon. Those things are basically living welding torches. If they need to get out, they'll manage.

She had other things to worry about now.

The monster steadily approaching the filly gave her the same issue the timberwolves did. It was hard to hurt something that could instantly heal from any injury. The shadow monsters were even worse still, lacking a physical body, being mostly made of magic. Nothing physical could hurt them.

But this time, Anon was prepared.

The civilians gone, she now had an open field.

"Hey ugly! How's your health plan?"

The monster charged. In the blink of an eye, it reached the bottom of the stairs, limbs flailing wildly in a savage and brutal attack. Were it to hit its target, not much would be left of the jumper.

But it didn't hit.

Splinters and pieces of wood were torn right off the library tree's wall, leaving a new window the architects and local squirrel population wouldn't be too happy about.

But Anon wasn't there.

She was behind the monster, phasing around the onslaught, doing the only reasonable thing in this situation.

She punched the shadow monster through the chest, Sun orb in hoof.

"APPARENTLY, IT'S GREAT!"

The orb connected with the shadow monster, destroying it on contact. Leaving behind nothing but moon dust and a strand of blue mane.

"Huh," the jumper kicked the remains. "That was easier than I thought it-"

A second shadow monster barged in, sending books and papers flying. Anon sank partially into the floor, dodging as it tried to bite her head off.

The jumper sprang right back, circling the monster in a standoff as both regained their posture and began measuring their opponent.

"Come on, you punk." Anon muttered.

Same as before. Teleport behind it and strike.

The monster lowered its head, kicking up dust as it charged, fangs glistening in the moonlight.

Anon answered in kind, running straight at the monster. Power surging in her, bending the weave of existence to her whim. The orb pulsing with energy from within, ready to strike.

A sound similar to a bursting balloon rang out as air rushed to fill a newly created vacuum. Anon reappearing from behind the monster's back, swinging the orb at it with all her might.

The monster changed shape at the last moment, becoming long, thin, and slippery. It dodged the orb and swung around at Anon with its now snake-like body, its tail striking the jumper across her chest, ripping the cloth of her dress and creating sparks. The blow winded the jumper and sent her to the floor.

A spear, its point glowing with enchantments, soared through the air and the monster's body, pinning it down as it trashed and dissolved. Destroying the spell, holding it together.

Steel Wind picked up his spear, his face a mix of boredom and disappointment. "Punk? Really?"

Anon got up, coughing and gasping with the guard's help. "It was the best I could come up with on the fly."

Steel Wind facehooved. "I think that makes it worse."

Stalwart poked his head through the hole in the wall. Looking for his colleague. "Steel? Did you get it- oh hello Anon! You alright?"

"No, not really," said Anon, pointing at her ripped dress. The torn cloth revealing the breastplate hidden underneath.

"It got my dress."

Stalwart gave her an unimpressed stare. "You know they'll find out you 'borrowed' that from the castle sooner or later?"

The jumper smiled. It was a bit risky, stealing right under Celestia's nose, though Anon doubted she would mind much. The guards having to fill out the paperwork regarding missing equipment, on the other hand, would be much less pleasant. "Eh, I'll burn that bridge when I get to it."

"Ehm, guys?" said Stalwart. "You realize there's still an emergency going on, right?"

"Oh, right," said Anon. The town was still under attack, and she still had a god to stop, or at least inconvenience enough so the elements could activate without trouble. "There are two children in the basement here, you should probably get them somewhere safe."

The jumper tucked the Sun orb back into its place under the concave shape of the plate, then she hopped through the new hole in the wall onto the street outside.

"And where are you going?" Steel called after her.

"Me?" Anon took a deep breath. She turned her attention towards the forest.

"I have a ruined castle to visit."

Author's Note

Part one, the second part should be ready pretty soon - this week hopefully.

Funny story, I planned to have this done by halloween. Ah, how naive I was. Anyway, the next part is fairly more... let's say intense. So take this as a warning.

See ya soon and stay tuned.

Also thanks to Discombobulated Soul for help proofreading and PseudoBob for editing.

Chapter Ten, Part Two: Lessons Were Learned

The Castle of the Two Sisters was a quiet place. Silence fell upon the ancient building like a shroud. Not the serene kind of silence. A stifling silence, crushing every happy thought. It was silence that felt wrong. Castles shouldn't be silent, castles were supposed to be filled with people. Workers going about their day. Artisans practicing their craft or mighty knights in shining armor training for battle.

Life is loud. Full of movement and change. The heart beats, the blood flows. All making their sounds, every living being a walking concert.

To be alive is to make noise.

The castle was silent. Filled with crumbling stone archways, decaying furniture and shattered memories. Nothing alive was left here. Only the jumper.

And Her.

Nightmare Moon entered. A magical mist floated through the empty hall, gaining shape until her imposing figure formed. Not noticing the jumper, she slowly walked the halls, gently touching a tattered tapestry - its image of two alicorns circling sun and moon now barely recognizable. The flow of time had drained the color out of the tapestry's threads until both alicorn sisters looked the same, their stark differences lost to age. Nightmare Moon was scowling, but her eyes betrayed more emotions than just anger.

This used to be a home.

"Hello, Luna."

The alicorn turned, wings spread open, horn alight. Ready to answer any challenge.

"WHO DARES TO-"

A unicorn filly met her gaze. Green dress folding down, dirty and torn, revealing steel beneath it. There was a calm, collected look on the tiny pony's face.

"It's dangerous out here, foal," Nightmare spat.

Anon chuckled, on a hair trigger despite her apparent calm. "I'm well aware."

The jumper didn't make the first move, simply watching the much larger alicorn from a distance, evaluating and planning. Pale moonlight showered the gray stone, the ruins sticking out of the forest like the bones of a forgotten corpse, left to rot. Roofs collapsed inside, revealing the ribcage of pillars and holding beams.

The sky dark above them, the full moon claiming the sun's domain for itself.

Nightmare raised a brow, wings folding on her back. If this was an assassination attempt, it was certainly the most absurd one she had ever seen. "Why are you here?" she asked. But the real question remained unspoken.

Faint light lit the hall. Golden, brilliant. Warm.

Hers.

The Sun orb shone in Anon's tiny hoof. Nightmare Moon's eyes narrowed, the silent question of allegiance answered.

"I'll ask this once," said Anon, power surging, preparing for the fight ahead. "I ask not because you deserve it. But because I promised I would."

Nightmare Moon lowered her stance, and a corona of dark magic began building up around the alicorn. "Spit it out, servant."

Anon held herself from snapping back. She'd promised. As much as she knew negotiations wouldn't work, she owed Her to at least try.

"Is it worth it?"

Nightmare Moon paused, maybe in confusion, or maybe even in amusement. An imitation of a little filly, standing in her way.

"You could start over," the filly continued. "Turn a new page, live in hiding if you want to avoid your sister so much. But this-" Anon gestured around at the ruined castle, at a place that once was home but never would be again. "-Is this still what you want? For you, for the world? Is it worth it destroying everything you had? Everything you could hope to have?"

"WORTH IT?!" Nightmare roared, loud enough to make Anon's ears pop. "Every betrayal! Every insult! Every stab at my heart! I’ll make them right, or I shall perish trying! There is nothing else left! Not for me!"

Magic swelled, danced around the alicorn. A thousand shades, serving their mad master. Anon could taste the magic in the air.

"The night shall rule eternal!" Nightmare bellowed.

Her gaze shifted back at the filly. She expected her to be cowering or running away. To stare back with fear or anger.

Instead, she found pity.

"Celestia still loves-"

The floor exploded, pieces of broken stone tiles flying everywhere. Nightmare Moon stared at the place the filly had just stood, numb. Her horn still crackling with energy.

A crater and a big cloud of dust. Nothing else would be left. Only dust and ruins and loneliness.

"Well, that was uncalled for."

Anon flicked a piece of ancient stone from her dress, suddenly appearing behind the alicorn. The Sun orb shone a little brighter.

Magic is a curious thing. It cannot be destroyed, nor created, only changed in form.

And it can be stored.

Nightmare Moon's magic flared once again, shadows gathering around her. Lashing out from the whirlwind of darkness, gnashing their fangs at the jumper.

Anon rushed through them, orb in hoof. A side step left, a blink-and-you-miss-it phasing to avoid a barrage of spectral knives to the right. A push of gravity to pin down one of the shades - a slap with the orb and it was gone, moon dust glittering in the air. From behind her, another shade attacked, changing shape to try and confuse her.

She stomped on the ground. Solid stone turned to liquid under the shadow, swallowing it whole, and the shade disappeared into the stony depths.

Anon rampaged in the ranks of the shadow monsters. Time slowed for her, allowing the jumper to dodge and weave around the shades despite their overwhelming numbers. Claws, teeth, and blades failed the magic constructs as they, one by one, met their end. The orb glowed a little brighter with each enemy destroyed.

Anon was used to fighting uneven fights. Being encircled, alone, and outgunned was the norm for the jumper. The key to survival was seizing the initiative, dividing her enemies, and never giving them a second of respite. Hesitation was death in a fight like this. Soon, the shades found themselves outnumbered in a battle of one against many, the jumper seemingly everywhere at the same time.

And then silence.

Piles of moon dust littered the floor. The glow of the orb now rivaled the moon as the main light source in the hall. A small, stubborn sun, barely clinging to life, yet still fighting for a sunrise, held in Anon's hoof.

I need a lot more magic for this to work.

Luckily for Anon, there was an alicorn all too willing to donate.

Keep your distance from Nightmare. Catch as many of her spells as possible. Stay alive. Simple, ain't it?

A new barrage of spells hit. A salvo of crystal arrows exploded all around Anon, who danced between them. But the pressure of the explosions made her head ring. A trickle of blood wet her neck - either her ear had been clipped by a piece of sharp crystal or the pressure had burst her eardrum. Sharp pain followed, like a needle straight to her brain - the eardrum then. While she was distracted a burst of crystal shrapnel hit her breastplate, but bounced off harmlessly.

Why did I ever agree to this?

Nightmare Moon watched the brawl with mild interest. The shadows were mere constructs. Stupid and expendable. But the fact that this foal could dispatch them without sustaining a visible injury meant only one thing for the immortal alicorn.

This battle would be much more interesting than she'd thought.

She decided to switch tactics. After all, why not indulge a little?

Gaining some altitude with a flap of her wings, she summoned swords with a flourish of her horn. A piece of the night sky, torn from the heavens and shaped into a pair of sabres so impossibly sharp Anon could hear as they sliced the air currents in two as Nightmare Moon took flight.

Luckily, Anon possessed a much greater weapon.

The alicorn dove at the jumper, the swords coming at Anon from two directions at once, air caught aflame as the swords cut water vapor apart, slicing oxygen and hydrogen from each other. Anon phased, the sabers slashed right through her, leaving no damage. The jumper reached for her own weapon, pushing her powers into the item of ultimate destruction. A tool of war strong enough to fell a god.

"You are kidding, right?" laughed Nightmare, ceasing the onslaught of blades for a moment. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Anon held a spoon.

Something changed.

It was a fork.

With a blur of metal changing and flowing, Nightmare Moon felt a headache building up in the back of her brain.

It was a spoon.

It was a fork.

Then it was something in between.

Then it was everything in between.

It blurred and coalesced. Melting together, existing beyond any comprehension, its mere existence defying the meager grip of reality.

"Last chance! Surrender!" yelled Anon, the weapon held in her levitation as far away as she could manage, afraid of its tremendous power. An effort akin to trying to hide under a table when a tactical nuke is coming straight for your location.

Anon's words fell on deaf ears. Nightmare Moon ignored the jumper and let out a war cry, swords swinging in tandem against her target.

The alicorn's summoned blades met the True Spork with a metallic ting.

Nightmare Moon was thrown off her hooves, wings flapping uselessly in an attempt to regain some control. Flung at high speed, she hit a wall, collapsing entire sections of the ancient castle. Then she hit a statue, a pillar, another pillar, then another–

It went on like this for a while.

Anon ran towards one of the still-standing walls. The spot marked by a tapestry. Hoof phasing, she reached into it and pulled out a cylindrical object.

Hiding explosives in her room would be too dangerous. But here? Even if they went off, it wouldn't matter much.

Nightmare Moon rose from the rubble, seething with anger. She found herself in what must have been a bedchamber. A golden decoration in the shape of a sun was stuck in her armor, between one of the joints. Some of the enchanted plates were deformed, biting into her skin and flesh.

"Aaargh!" She tore the golden trash out, crimson spilling on the floor. Her wings straightened as the bones resettled, the wounds closing by themselves. The alicorn’s healing factor would prevent any lasting injury, but she could still feel pain.

Nightmare picked up the extensively large bed frame with her telekinesis, throwing it at the jumper casually strolling into the room. Anon simply hid in a wall as the bedframe shattered into splinters against the stone.

"I'll make you pay for this!" Nightmare shouted, preparing her last, decisive attack.

Maybe if Nightmare Moon's mind wasn't so filled with anger and resentment, with words that she refused to believe and with physical pain muddling her thoughts, she could have seen it coming. Make a battle plan, realize what Anon was doing, what the orb in her hoof was holding in store for her.

But Nightmare Moon didn't do any of that.

What she did was cast a spell. A flash of violet lighting, forking and dividing. A skeletal hand around the jumper. Attacking from all directions. Too fast to teleport away from, too destructive to shield.

Finally, Nightmare had her victory.

The Sun orb exploded in light. A small sun the size of an apple. The heat was searing - a day break, contained inside one room.

It pulled the lighting in, and the spell sizzled out of existence.

But the orb kept pulling.

Nightmare watched in horror as her magic was siphoned away. Her flowing mane fell down limply. Her body shrunk, second by torturous second.

Magic cannot be destroyed, nor created. Only changed in form.

But it can be stored.

And alicorns are nothing if not living and breathing magic.

Nightmare thrashed and panicked. Trying to teleport, fly away. She had to escape, survive and come back. They would pay! Her revenge would come, great and terrible!

But then, Anon punched the alicorn.

Normally a foolish attempt. Punching someone in plate armor usually does nothing, except causing the one who did the punching to curl up and cry about how they broke bones trying to punch a metal suit.

Normalcy is overrated.

Nightmare stared at the green furred limb, stuck in her chest. Anon's hoof was phasing, looking and feeling like static, and only partially corporeal.

"Brisingr," said Anon, her stubby horn alight with her fire spell, igniting the makeshift fuse. The mixture, prepared from rust, aluminum, and sulfur, did the rest.

She let go of the thermite grenade.

A moment later, Nightmare's world became pain. Sheer ever-burning agony.

There was no focus, no weaving of spells to try and get away while her magic was being drained. Only the cylindrical object, made from condensed pain, stuck in her chest. Melting her insides only for them to reform a second later, just to be destroyed again.

Alicorns are immortal, so killing one with something as crude as an improvised explosive device is impossible.

Immobilizing them, on the other hand…

Anon watched the orb. A balance was needed - too much, and she risked more permanent damage, too little and nothing would be accomplished.

Come on, come on.

If she did it just right, there would be no more fighting. No more danger that this world would burn or freeze.

And Celestia would get her sister back.

Just as Daybreaker planned.

Storing all of an alicorn's magic in the artifact wouldn't kill them. As long as there was a will to live, it would only trap her. Then it was only a matter of using the elements.

The original plan Celestia had had was to cleanse Luna with the elements of harmony. That was still the end goal, Anon's whole job was just making it easier for the bearers to accomplish. Blasting a rock with a multicolored laser of harmony was a much easier task than having to wrangle a furious alicorn.

As long as Nightmare Moon had a will to live, she would be alive and somewhat conscious inside the orb.

And Nightmare definitely had a lot of will.

She struggled, eyes bulging, bloodshot. Pain. The smell of smoke and burned flesh in her nostrils. Desperate. She wouldn't be trapped, she wouldn't be bound! Not ever again!

Weakness, she had to find a weakness. Something, anything that would allow her to escape. All the magic she had left, everything she was, united in one goal.

Win.

And then, she found it. A flaw in the jumpers' defenses.

Dream magic wouldn't work on a waking pony. Their consciousness would be too inflexible, easily withstanding an attempt at altering it while awake.

But this wasn't a normal pony. This one lacked something.

A name.

A true name.

Her magic was wavering, but without a defense against it, the jumper would be easy prey. But first, she needed but one thing.

On shaking legs, the alicorn took a step.

Closer.

Anon couldn't move. The orb blinded her with its light. Even a slight disturbance would cut the flow now, releasing the magic all at once with catastrophic results. She felt Nightmare move closer, she could taste the sheer stubbornness, the hate permeating from the outline crawling towards her.

Closer.

And so, frozen in an icy grip of fear, and unable to do anything, Anon watched the dark alicorn make her move.

Closer.

A step, a flutter of wings, and a desperate reaching with her neck so her horn would be just a few inches closer, Nightmare conjured a wisp of magic so pitifully small it blended in with the gray stone.

It struck the jumper, a dagger plunging into Anon's mind.

And dreams claimed them both.

"Congratulations!"

The young woman was dressed in her work clothes; a stained apron, faintly smelling of vanilla, and a chef's hat with a pink cat on it. Her whole person always carried the smell of sweets. It came with running a sweet shop, Anon supposed.

The shop was small, tucked away on one of the many narrow streets of their hometown. It didn't look like much, just a few square meters of space, some flowers for decorations and aged tables and chairs brought on the cheaper side. It was back in the kitchen where the real magic happened - the kingdom where his sister ruled supreme, her will unquestionable. Connected to it was the storage room, and the tiny apartment above it where they lived.

It was his home, despite its flaws. The shop was always too loud for him, even after closing time. The sounds from the club down the street always bothered him when he tried to sleep or study.

He smiled, hands reaching for a napkin. His acceptance letter next to the plate of chocolate cake. A key to a better future for both of them.

The letter, not the cake, though Anon’s attention was mostly locked onto the sweet.

Anon dug in - it was his favorite. Celebrating any important occasions with cake, not just birthdays, had been a tradition between him and his sister since-

He staggered back in his squeaky chair, brow raised.

Sister? He basically never called his sister, well… sister, unless they were introducing themself to somebody. They were siblings, yes, but like any true siblings, they didn't just call each other “sis” or “bro”. She was his sister, but he always called her by name, even in his head. So why didn’t he-

He couldn't remember it.

Nothing. Not her name, or her face or the nicknames he came up with as a revenge for her calling him… what did she call him?

The sweet shop was almost empty. Utterly devoid of any customers despite it being rush hour, the sign at the entrance definitely reading 'open'.

"Not many people here today," he said. His vocal cords worked on their own, going through the motion of speech with no input from him.

The woman’s image was disturbed, her features obscured. It was like looking at a water damaged oil painting. Even her voice wasn't right. A misshapen voice, broken and filled with static. But he could feel her grinning at him. "What can I say? It's pretty… dessert-ed today."

He choked on the cake. Or was it him? The body sitting in the chair, talking with his sister did so without any help from Anon. "Gah! Really?!"

"What?" she smiled innocently. Playing with the spork in her fingers. Sporks, he hated those - and he suspected she used them specifically to annoy him. It was the kind of spork with one side slightly sharper to allow it to cut things. She might have given him one, but it was meant for right-handed people - thank God.

"You are the worst!" he managed to say. Clearly fighting the urge to laugh, just so he wouldn't give her the satisfaction. At least it seemed that way. Anon didn't feel like laughing, but that didn't stop the stranger hijacking his body.

She chuckled, it should have been a little devilish laughter at her brother's antics, but it sent shivers down Anons uncooperative spine. "Thanks, I try."

She pulled something out from under the table. A present. Something soft, wrapped in shiny paper, and held together by a red string. The one object seemingly hogged all the detail in the room, contrasting against the unfocused mess that was his sister. "I got you something," she said, a glint in her eye, felt more than seen.

His body double raised an eyebrow, wondering what it could be. Unraveling the string and gently unfolding the paper.

"I know you plan on going to one of those little trips of yours, so I thought you could use it. The mountains can get awfully cold. "

With more than a little curiosity, the thing operating Anon's body opened it.

A hiker's jacket inside, with lots of pockets. High quality, durable. The kind he always wished he had.

The kind Anon knew was expensive.

"Like it?"

His mouth opened and started half-heartedly arguing about such inconsequential things like money. It did so with no input from him, his body moving on its own while he stared at his reflection in the window, unable to recognize what he was looking at.

A mashup of so many faces that they all blended together into nothing. He stared, and a hundred strangers stared back.

And then it clicked, the curtains opened, and the mask fell off. The world stopped being real.

This is a memory.

He remembered this day. This home. The faces of the people here were unknown to him, their names a mystery, but he knew who they were to him. Who he was to them.

And he knew what would happen next.

A ring from his phone, from a friend waiting outside. He would get up, say a quick 'see you later' to his sister. So casual in taking for granted the fact this wouldn't be the last time he ever spoke to her, he didn't even say a goodbye.

A mistake.

He tried to scream, to beg. Anything to stop himself from leaving. Turn around, stay, don't go out of those doors, he pleaded with his own memory for what must have been the thousandth time.

You never find your way back.

The jacket on his body, worn at the behest of his sister. She wanted to see if it fit him and he didn't bother with taking it off. It did fit him well, at least back then, and he didn't even thank her.

That was the last time he saw his big sister. The day he jumped for the first time.

And he never even said goodbye.

He - was it still he? The jumper wasn't entirely sure anymore. He (probably, maybe) sat on the floor of some underground complex. Resting after his latest trial.

"This is so weird," the jumper said, inspecting his new hand… thingy. It was blue, covered in chitin plates, and had only two pincer-like fingers.

"You get used to it, and stop wriggling."

His 'hands' were being bandaged by his new friend, who had been transformed into the same kind of insectoid creature.

"I don't know how I could ever get used to stuff like this," Anon pointed at himself.

Feandil's 'hands' worked miracles. The seemingly infinite roll of bandages turned in the other jumper's grip, and scissor-like fingers cut it to length. The more experienced jumper gave his creation one last critical look.

"Think I'm done here."

Anon nodded, his wounds tended. They were mostly shallow cuts, but they would leave scars, both physical and mental.

He could still feel the chains. A phantom pain, reminding him just how close his last brush with death was. If Feandil hadn't found him, he would've surely perished in that dank, dark cell.

"Thanks."

Feandil waved it off. The movement looked almost comical, when done by what was basically a bipedal cockroach. "No need. This definitely wasn't my finest work. I must be getting out of practice. Those stitches were positively amateurish!"

A giant insect attempting to sound posh wasn't a thing Anon had ever expected to hear. But expectations didn't mean anything anymore. "I meant thanks for saving my life," Anon clarified, stretching his limbs, feeling the fluid he had instead of blood make them move, like some sort of hydraulic system.

"Oh, that!" Feandil laughed. Or at least Anon thought it was a laugh. It was hard to tell with these forms. But Feandil's maw made a fast clicking sound that seemed close enough. "You silly goose. Of course I saved you. We're jumpers! If we don't watch each other's back, who will?"

Anon looked at him. Feandil had laughed. Feandil shared his curse. Torn from his home by an alien power awakening in him, flinging him across existence in a random direction, and he was laughing. "How can you be so…"

"Happy?" offered Feandil.

Anon nodded once, flinching as his head made a cracking noise as the chitin bent. "I was about to say cheerful."

Feandil beamed. There was a spark behind his compound eyes as he spoke. "My friend. I simply adapted to my situation. Try to see the bright side. All the dangers, all the wonders of the universe. Those are all ours. Adventure beyond the wildest imagination! Isn't that exciting?"

"So far, it's mostly just been painful," said Anon. "I want to go home. Not frolic around the universe that clearly wants me dead."

Feandil patted Anon on the shoulder, the chitin plates meeting with an audible clank. "Oh yeah, don't get me wrong, it can absolutely suck Moloch's balls out there. But we cannot fall to despair. We must hope! Always hope, my chitinous comrade! No matter the hardship we suffer!" Feandil smiled, Anon was sure of that, but it made him shiver. Smiling with mandibles had that effect. "And our powers? They may have severed us from the homes we once had, but what they offer us! With some practice and skill, not only will you find your way back eventually, but you will have power rivaling gods! A snap of your fingers and reality shall obey your will!"

Feandil's 'hands' clinked as he rubbed them together. "Speaking of practice, let's give a small demonstration! We can't have a jumper not knowing how to jump, can we?"

A gift from his friend: the art of aimed jumping. Navigating the mess that is the multiverse is hard. Without Feandil's guidance, he would never have found his way around it. This moment always shined in Anon's memory.

Even after Feandil's end, Anon took solace in knowing that he had at least freed his friend from a fate worse than death. And that Feandil, while he was still his insufferable, cheerful self, had lived exactly how he wanted.

"Let's start with something relatively simple…" Feandil scratched his chin, creating a noise not too dissimilar from somebody stabbing a chalkboard with a blunt knife. "Gravity dispersion! That should be easy enough. Now what you need is…"

Something echoed throughout the burrow, like thousands of toothpicks chipping at the stone.

Anon tried to stand, his legs shaking, their use still unfamiliar to the jumper. "What was that?" he asked.

Feandil shrugged. "That? Those would be our insectoid hosts, trying their best to find us, kill us horribly, and then bath in our blood. Quite intense, these chaps, aren't they?"

Anon's eye-stalks raised in alarm, while his new friend raised his limbs, pulling at the unseen weave holding reality together. "Well, let's skip the simple stuff." Feandil said, holding the very fabric of the universe in the palm of his 'hand'.

And then he cut a hole in it.

"Nothing teaches you as fast as jumping in at the deep end, I say," said Feandil, just as the first hostile insectoid breached the cavern.

A shimmering portal appeared in front of Feandil. A bridge, if a dubious one that was hardly held together, formed across dimensions.

"Follow me, if you wish to live!"

With no other option, Anon did what he had to.

And jumped.

This world was dead. A desert of sand turned to glass. Ash fell like snow from the burned heavens, from the sky of perpetual sun. Time itself had stopped here, having seen no point in continuing anymore.

Nothing was left except silence and the jumper.

And Her.

Daybreaker hesitated, wary to come too close to the small green filly. She didn't want to hurt her. Just by touching her, the sheer abundance of mana around her risked turning the filly to ash. It crushed her soul. Alone, so alone, and unable to touch her only visitor. But at least she could say her goodbyes.

Daybreaker felt her end coming.

She made the last gamble, a plan. Maybe she would do some good yet. Not in a vain hope of redemption - it was too late for redemption now, and she was too tired. Tired of being, tired of weeping. Tired of it all.

No, this was a chance for something else.

Daybreaker’s mane fell limp, its flame gone, extinguished. Cold, so cold. Her flames were fading, she was fading. Her limbs were getting numb. It was getting harder to think.

The jumper was still there, watching the sunset. Her sunset. Finally, time moved a little after staying still for so long. It was the last movement, the last hurrah of a world killed by ambition and foolishness.

Anon was prepared to go, but she promised to stay here until after the ritual was done. For a week, the jumper stayed by her side. Being there, listening. Staving off her loneliness by simply talking. Talking. It was joy beyond nearly anything she had ever felt before, to hear something other than her own voice.

They talked about their lives. About what they used to have, who they used to be. They talked about nothing and anything to fill the silence.

And then they talked about the plan, her final gamble.

But staying here for long would kill the jumper. Mortals were always so fragile and delicate. Precious sparks of life, far too easily vanishing into nothing. Daybreaker did what she could to prevent this spark from going off, but there was nothing she could do now.

Fear, it snuck its way inside Daybreaker’s mind, poisoning her thoughts. Fear, she hadn't felt fear in so long. There was nothing left to be afraid of or for.

But now, as the end approached, and the world became dark after ages of blinding light, she was afraid.

Was she alone again?

"Are you… still here?" she cried, tears evaporating on contact with her skin. She cried for the beautiful world she had destroyed. For her sister and her student. For all her little ponies. And for her last little pony, watching the very last sunset with her.

"I… I don't want to be alone."

Something pressed against her. Anon holding her, hugging her. Unflinching, ignoring the burns. What was left of her were mere embers, but even embers can burn you if you touch them.

Daybreaker smiled weakly, too exhausted to push the jumper away. Too cowardly to say anything. Her flames were fading. The world was fading. But it was okay.

She wasn't alone anymore.

Daybreaker's body became more still, her slitted eyes glazing over, staring into nothing - and everything that lay beyond it.

"Luna, is that you?"

The jumper froze, swallowing once. An impossible choice in front of her. "Yes, it's me, Tia."

"I… I'm sorry."

Then, in the land of perpetual day, the sun had finally set.

It was over; the ritual was complete. Anon stood alone, darkness setting upon the dead place that used to be Equestria.

A single crystalline orb, shining a faint golden light, remained.

Anon opened another tear in the weave, building her flimsy bridge to a different reality. She knew how to do it now, she'd had practice. Much more than she wished she had.

She looked back at the empty world.

And jumped.

This world was dead. A frozen wasteland of ice and snow. A ruined, destroyed town laid before them.

Darkness claimed it. It claimed everything. An eternal night, where not even the moon shined any light, for the moon only reflected the sun, and there wasn't any sun for it to reflect anymore.

The air sat still. Time did too.

Nothing was left, except silence and the jumper.

And Her.

The alicorn did not hesitate in trying to catch the jumper, sending shadows to grapple them unsuccessfully.

Nightmare Moon lashed out, her mind long gone to the madness that consumed her and clouded her mind. But under it all...

She didn't want to be alone.

The jumper squinted, already opening a portal. It was a hasty, unaimed jump. She would be lucky if she didn't end up twenty paces up in the air. Anon turned towards the alicorn and showed her a gesture for which you need fingers, or at least one finger.

And jumped.

Leaving Nightmare Moon behind, screaming, alone in a dead world. Screaming and screaming and-

Nightmare Moon stopped, reality hitting her like a train. The castle, they were at the castle. Fighting, the orb nearly got her. Draining her magic.

Her hoof reached for her chest - the grenade had stopped burning. She was freed from the sun orbs' grasp.

It worked, the dream spell had worked, but everything after? Those glimpses, images and feelings? That shouldn't have happened, that wasn't how dream magic was supposed to behave. It should have just knocked her foe unconscious.

"W-what was that?" Her voice was hoarse from the abuse, her legs shook as if somepony had replaced her bones with jello.

Anon tried to stand without much success, falling to the floor as she lost control over the contents of her stomach, throwing up all over the ancient furniture.

"My," -she heaved-, " goddamn life."

Nightmare Moon grabbed her, lifting her up by the scruff of her neck, fangs only inches from Anon's face. "What trickery was that?! You think you can fool me?"

Nausea overcame the jumper from the sudden movement. Her head was heavy. Concussion, she reasoned. She must have landed head-first on the stone floor when Nightmare Moon knocked her unconscious with her spell.

"The last vision! Was it true? Speak!"

Nightmare kept screaming at her, but the words barely registered. Anon was dizzy, the world kept spinning, and her brain was itchy. Still, a thought managed to escape the jumbled mess of the jumpers mind and successfully signaled her vocal chords to move. "It hits differently, doesn't it? Wishing for something and then getting it for real."

The dark alicorn shook her. "The last two visions! What were they!"

"You didn't recognize it?!" Anon spoke, just barely holding onto consciousness. "Your victory. Everyone paid. Just as you wanted."

Nightmare threw Anon on the floor, hard. The jumper felt something give in. She tried to determine just what was broken by finding where the pain was coming from, but either every part of her was broken, or pain needed to learn to be more specific.

"That wasn't what I wanted!" the alicorn screamed, her own tears now flowing as she took shallow breaths of air.

"Oh no, it is exactly what you wanted." Anon tasted copper in her mouth and tried to spit on the alicorn, but missed. "And it's nothing less than what you deserve."

Alone, in an empty, desolate wasteland. Nightmare Moon had lived through it. A thousand years passed by in a blink, her essence bound to the moon.

It wasn't supposed to end like that! She couldn't make them love her, no matter what she tried. So she did the next best thing - she would make them fear her. But that? Thatwasn't what she wished for, was it?

But there was no fear in the jumper, not of her at least. Only pity. Only disgust with what she had become.

The being laying on the floor. It had experienced being hunted, being feared, and hated, and forgotten. It knew what it was like facing a universe where it had no place.

And yet.

"Why?" she sobbed. "Why did you help Her? We both lost so much, and-"

"You know nothing of loss." Anon's voice was dripping with venom and spite. "Nothing. You didn't lose anything, you threw it all away! Your name, your sister, your home! Why? Because of petty jealousy? Because your sister was more popular? Look around you!" Her words echoed through the castle, its stones cold, wind howling in the empty halls. A corpse. Dead, forgotten and abandoned. "Like it?! Cause if you win, there won't be anything else left!"

The weave was outside Anon's reach right now. No jumping away, no escaping. The dark alicorn stared, still as a statue, predatory eyes glowing in the darkness.

The alicorn was tired. Tears rolled down her face and onto the bent plates of her armor, where it mixed with dirt and blood. Both of them were filthy now, crawling around in the old ruins had coated their fur in dust and grime.

Nightmare Moon got up, raising one armored hoof above Anons head, the expression on her face hard to read. The image was too fuzzy. A dark blue blob with some shiny bits bolted to it.

Laying in the dirt, that's how I die.

There were much worse ways to die than this. Anon had seen some of them. This would at least be quick. And maybe she had done enough to throw Nightmare Moon off her game, giving the bearers more of a chance, making it all less pointless.

Her life flashed before her eyes, the early parts as boring as they always were. Those boring bits, she missed them the most.

Nightmare Moon stared at something, a glint of gold behind the jumper.

Golden horseshoes, neatly arranged next to each other in rows. Made for a mare of great stature.

Celestia had left behind the golden horseshoes, the decorations, even her bed. Abandoning their castle, their home, in a hurry. Losing everything in a span of one night.

"I… I'm sorry," Nightmare whispered, too quiet for anypony to hear, but herself.

She looked at her hoof, the hoof she was about to-

No. Not anymore. She had done enough; it was over. Help, yes. She would have to find help now, some healer to save the filly or-

For the second time that day, Nightmare Moon was flung into the air. A beige earth pony mare let out a shriek of white hot rage as she delivered a powerful kick with her hind legs, sending the alicorn flying. Before Nightmare could react, she landed back on solid ground, creating a small crater as the shrieking mare karate chopped her on the head repeatedly, driving her into the floor like a nail. The alicorn's helmet producing sounds akin to an abused gong.

Normally, punching plate armor doesn't yield much results, but Sweetie Drops worked with a very loose definition of normalcy and didn't really care for such things at the moment. Right now, she only cared about the fact that her charge was a bloody mess on the floor.

"Hi-ya!" Sweetie Drops followed up by kicking Nightmare Moon squarely in the jaw, and ended the combo with a quick uppercut.

That whole night, she'd had to stalk around the future element bearers, trying to find signs of Anon. And when she did find her, it was nearly too late.

The agent had rushed into the room, forgoing all the proper protocol and training. Her brain was screaming at her. All her hours of training and rigorous regimens, meaning very little against an alicorn. This wasn't a battle a lone agent should be able to win.

But, again, the agent didn't really care right now.

Nightmare Moon was baffled. An earth pony mare decided to show up and kick her teeth in? Did the mortals all gain a death wish while she was gone? She may have been weakened, but she was by no means defeated.

"You-"

Another buck from the agent sent some of Nightmare Moon's fangs clattering on the ground.

Bon Bon whipped around, sending a throwing knife Nightmare Moon's way while grabbing Anon, the filly barely conscious.

"Enough!"

A pulse of dark magic sent both the agent and the jumper against the wall. The agent desperately used her body to cushion the landing for the injured jumper.

What Sweetie Drops forgot to account for the breastplate the filly wore.

Little spots entered Sweetie Drops' vision. Her ribs were definitely broken, every breath sending jolts of pain.

"Now listen you-"

Something whipped through the air, faster than an eye can follow, striking Nightmare Moon across her muzzle and leaving a red line. A string, an instrument string, used as a whip by somepony very angry.

Lyra glared.

Nightmare Moon was an alicorn. She had fought against foes innumerable. Grogar, Sombra, Discord, and the ancient beasts now lost to legend.

But Lyra glared.

Nightmare Moon gulped, backpedaling away. "So, there was a change of plans."

Multiple strings levitated around Lyra as the minty unicorn walked into the room. The immortal alicorn gulped once more.

"My name is Lyra Heartstrings," Lyra said coldly. A string charged back and whipped, nearly cutting off the alicorn's ear, making Nightmare yelp and dodge to the side, towards a crumbled wall.

"You hurt my fiancée."

Another string sent Nightmare further back, close to where a collapsed wall opened, offering a full view of the Everfree forest and the several-storey-high fall into the moat under the castle.

"You hurt my foal."

Nightmare attempted to cast a spell, but stopped as yet another string, taken from Lyra's precious instrument, hit her right on the horn, disturbing the magic and making her eyes water.

"Prepare to die."

Nightmare Moon took one final glance between the unicorn and the moat, and made the simplest decision of her life.

She jumped off the ledge.

She has wings, of course, but it's the sentiment that matters.

With a few flaps and a gust of wind, the dark alicorn vanished into the night.

Nightmare Moon had a moment to herself.

Wind flew through her fur. The stars glimmered and shone above her. The world was so beautiful, even the wild Everfree looked peaceful from so high up.

Celestia still loves you.

These words and the vision came at the forefront of her conflicted mind. The castle was where the elements of harmony were - the only thing that could really defeat her now.

Defeating her… Her anger at the jumper slowly gave way to regret. And with that, more of her carefully built mental wall fell. Anger fueled her, anger made her. But what had anger got her in the end?

She looked at the moon.

Nightmare shuddered. She didn't want to go back, to lose everything again.

A thousand years of nothingness, and countless more years of nothingness to come, if she were successful in exacting her revenge.

So what now, was the question.

Could she be given a second chance? No was the simple answer. The ponies of Equestria hadn't accepted her then and they wouldn't accept her now.

Endure, she had to endure. Find the elements, and then… talk. With Her. Negotiate for her freedom. It was far from ideal, but better than any of the alternatives.

And then she saw purple light coming from the throne room. Nightmare recognized it instantly - she used to wield the elements before, after all. Long ago, the artifacts made her feel so safe, and now the sight of them filled her with dread.

The alicorn hesitated, stopping in the air, turning towards the source of light.

"I'm sorry, sister."

A few minutes later, the Sun rose above Equestria once more

Author's Note

Well, this chapter was significantly more difficult to write than any other.

Lots of things happening, callbacks all around - lets see if anybody catches them all.

Chapter Eleven: New Chances Have A Price

Lyra took in a deep breath, the weaponized strings falling down to the floor with a whoom as the tension was released into nothing.

Her legs were shaking. Her back hurt, and the pain nearly made her collapse on the spot. The adrenaline rush that allowed her to unflinchingly stare down Nightmare Moon was now ending, letting the full weight of the situation fall on her.

And she'd just ruined the strings of her lyre.

Getting new strings from that one store in Canterlot, where they had the real good ones, was going to be a bugger…

The minty unicorn gathered herself. There were things more important and pressing than her back pain and untuned instrument - two of them were in the room with her, laying in the dust of the ruined castle

"Honey?" sounded the slurred speech of Bon Bon as she attempted to sit, using the crumbling stone wall for support. "Is that really you?"

Lyra winced with every step as she walked to her lover's side, her own pain pushed aside for the time being. Just getting a glance of Bon Bon, of the dark purple bruise on her chest, and the shivering green bundle held in the confectioners' hooves, was enough to push Lyra onward.

Just keep going. They need help.

Arriving at her wounded marefriend's side, Lyra had an epiphany - she knew nothing about first aid. Standing helplessly next to the two hurt ponies with no real idea of what to do, she started to panic. The shocked, confused look Bon Bon had on her face, together with a faint blush. The shuddering breaths Anon took.

This could mean only one thing, Lyra thought.

They're dying!

So Lyra did what every book and action play had taught her to do when dealing with wounded ponies.

"Don't go into the light, you hear me!? Don't die on me dammit!"

She screamed her lungs out at them.

A beige hoof shot upward and into Lyra's mouth. Bon Bon spoke with surprising ease, like if something was lifting the pressure and pain in her chest. "Lyra, I love you, but if you don't stop yelling, I'm going gag you. And not in the fun way."

Bon Bon stood back up. Lyra attempted to help her, but it wasn't needed. Maybe the power of love was giving her strength? The agent was sure that her ribs were broken after the impact. And Anon… wasn't she injured pretty badly? She looked alright to Bon Bon now, the filly gently snoring, cuddled up by her side - how Anon managed to fall asleep in the first place was beyond her, but she didn't see any injuries, other than a nasty bump on the filly's head looking like a second, extra stubby horn.

Lyra hugged Bon Bon suddenly, panic seeping into her voice as she started shaking with her partner. "Light!"

Bon Bon rolled her eyes. "I'm not going into the light, Lyra!"

Lyra shook her head. "No, you're glowing!"

Only then did the agent notice the tendrils of golden light enveloping her and the unconscious body of Anon. Lyra only watched in awe as the big, ugly bump on Anon's head shrunk, and Bon Bon's bruise faded away.

The sun orb, realized Bon Bon with a start.

The artifact was with them in the room, saturated with magic siphoned from Nightmare Moon. And now it was casting a healing spell ever so familiar to Sweetie Drops. The source of the magic may have been different, but the technique behind it? The secret touch that gave the spell its shape? It was too similar for it to be a coincidence.

The agent glanced at her healed bruise, then back at the orb. It just stayed there, unmoving, and yet, she felt like it was staring back from where it lay on the dusty floor.

"It's alive," whispered Lyra, almost religiously. The unicorn mare approached the artifact, hoof outstretched, almost touching it.

"DON'T!"

There was a feeling, like it was suddenly much hotter in the room. The orb had given a warning. A brief flash of light - the growling before the bite.

Bon Bon swallowed, droplets of sweat falling from her forehead.

"It's Spring's, we… we shouldn't touch it, not without her permission," she said, eyes still locked on the artifact. The orb was inactive now, its healing spell cast, but fire still faintly glowed beneath its crystalline surface.

Lyra nodded vigorously, not in the mood to discover what bite marks given from an orb would look like.

Sweetie Drop’s whole body shuddered, feeling sick in her stomach. The sun orb was doing it again, casting spells just by itself. And casting them just like…

No, that was absurd. She had to be wrong about this. There was no way in Tartarus that Celestia wouldn't notice this, and if she knew-

Anon turned in her hooves, mumbling something sleepily.

Sweetie Drop’s eyes softened. Those questions could wait. First, she needed to get them somewhere safe.

Her broken ribs were healed. She touched the place of impact. No signs of the injury, no tender flesh or even a dull ache. The agent was no mage, but even she knew that very few ponies had enough power and expertise to accomplish such a feat. This fact did not lessen her worrying about the nature of the sun orb one bit.

Sweetie Drops attempted to take a step, only to nearly fall back down.

Right, healing magic.

While it was almost miraculous in its efficacy when used by a master, it still left the recipient feeling like they'd just ran a marathon in plate armor while somepony used their head as a percussion instrument.

Recover a little first, then get out of the accursed, monster filled forest, Bon Bon reasoned.

It didn't look like Nightmare would come back anytime soon, and the castle wards would protect them from any inhabitants of the Everfree. They were relatively safe here.

The collapsed outer wall of the ruined bedchamber gave her a full view of the Everfree and the rest of the ancient castle. Lyra came to her side, head tilted a little before shrugging. Her surprisingly clean, minty coat glistened in the moonlight.

And the sights here aren't halfway bad.

Lyra plumped down next to her, their tired bodies leaning against each other. Enjoying a moment of their shared closeness in a turbulent night, watching the starry, moonlit sky in all its glory. Some silent seconds passed, vanishing into the mist of what was. Leaving nothing but a vague memory behind.

Bon Bon smiled fondly at the world, and the world smiled back. Her worries were not forgotten, but, for at least for a moment, the joy of simply being overcame them. It will be alright, the world whispered as the stars shined above them. In the end, it will be alright.

Lyra turned Bon Bon to face her muzzle to muzzle, shaking hooves placed on the agent's shoulders. Eyes the color of honey, the reason for Lyra's nickname, stared into hers. Her mouth open, she leaned close.

"BON BON, WE NEARLY DIED!" Lyra shouted.

Sadly, the feeling of inner peace was not shared.

Lyra sniffled. Her eyes widened as the reality of what had happened truly settled in her mind.

"YOU PUNCHED NIGHTMARE BUCKING MOON!" Lyra continued shouting, the volume loud enough that several families of birds living in the Everfree began to file their complaints.

Bon Bon recoiled a little, sensitive ears pinned to her head and a sheepish smile on her lips.

"PUNCHED?" Bon Bon shouted back, sounding almost offended. "YOU WHIPPED HER!"

Lyra looked stunned for a second, eyes widening even more, threatening to escape her face and start a new prospective career as a wildly impractical salad bowls.

"CELESTIA, YOU'RE RIGHT! I WHIPPED HER! WE'RE SO DEAD!" Lyra half cried, half shouted. She held her beloved candy maker close. The smell of vanilla mixed with the earthly scent of forest - mostly from all the dirt and twigs stuck in Bon Bon’s coat - attacked her nostrils. "I WAS SO SCARED, BONNIE!"

"I KNOW, I'M SO SORRY!" Bon Bon did the same, embracing Lyra, one strong hoof gently stroking her marefriend's mane. "BUT YOU WERE SO BRAVE!"

Lyra raised her head, leaving a damp patch on Bon Bon's fur where her tears soaked it, sniffing in a wholly ineffective attempt at not crying. "REALLY?!" she shouted half-heartedly.

"YES!" screamed Bon Bon. "YOU HAD A WHOLE SPEECH, YOU WERE GREAT!"

"I WAS!?" said Lyra with a bit more bravado, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Bon Bon nodded vigorously, her neck muscle straining - but nothing could stop her from delivering encouragement to her Lyra. "YOU EVEN TOLD NIGHTMARE OFF!"

"YOU'RE RIGHT, I DID!" Lyra shouted back at full volume, this time with her smile fully showing.

"AND YOU CLAIMED SPRING AS YOUR OWN!" continued Bon Bon, both of them now grinning like maniacs.

"OF COURSE!" said Lyra, proud and beaming.

"AND YOU CALLED ME YOUR FIANCÉE!"

What followed was a silence so complete that it came all the way back and became almost deafening. Both of them faltered, seeing the reaction of the other. Lyra nervously scratched the back of her head, her ears drooping, while Bon Bon simply froze, as if she had only now realized.

"I'm sorry!" Lyra fell to her hind legs, begging in front of Bon Bon, who looked more shell-shocked by the situation than a soldier guarding an ammo depot at the battle of Shellingrad. "I knew you said you wanted to wait, but I was so caught up in the moment and I thought you and Spring were hurt–"

"Lyra…" Bon Bon said softly, but the stream of Lyra’s frightened words only gained speed, becoming somehow even more frantic. Syllables and whole sentences fell over each other.

"–and I saw you ran into the forest so I went after you and I think I angered a chimera along the way and also kinda caused a mudslide and maybe cut somepony’s mustache with the strings by accident but I just wanted to follow you–"

"Ly-ly," Bon Bon attempted to stop the flow of words, putting a little more force behind her own speech.

"–and I saw Nightmare throw you against the wall and I just got so angry and–"

Their lips locked together. Lyra went still in surprise before returning the kiss in earnest. Never did she tire of the taste - so sweet, but with a powerful undertone she could never really place. It made her feel so alive, so powerful. The love burning inside of her.

Ever so slowly, and with a feat of willpower worthy of a legend, Bon Bon tore herself away from Lyra, the two of them staring into each other's eyes.

"Yes," said Bon Bon simply.

Lyra's mind went blank - from the sudden show of affection, from all her doubts and pain being swept away in a tidal wave of emotion.

"Oh," she managed to say, eliciting such a wondrously cute chuckle from Bon Bon. She could listen to it until the end of time. To her, it was a more beautiful sound than any song she ever could play.

Clang

But they didn't have until the end of time.

The two startled mares jumped up, whipping their heads around to see Anon, pushing something over the edge and into the moat - the stolen chest plate, Bon Bon realized. The filly grimaced as the stolen armor made impact with stones, branches, and a family of frogs living in the moat.

Anon's legs wobbled, the foal nearly falling on her face, only saved by Bon Bon’s quick reflexes preventing her from going splat on the floor. "My bad. I didn't want to ruin the moment."

The filly gave them a sheepish smile as the armor was thrown out of the moat by a very angry papa frog, landing on the forest floor with another loud clang. "Sorry."

Lyra rushed to her aid with a disbelieving look. "You've been awake this whole time?"

The filly shrugged, scrambling to gain a modicum of stability on her limbs and free herself from Bon Bon's grasp. "Well, it's hard not to wake up, with all the yelling you've been doing."

"Quite right, my little pony."

Bon Bon froze, gaze slowly turning towards the alabaster alicorn entering the ruined bedchamber, a large, gleeful grin plastered on her muzzle.

It didn't take much brain power to deduce the reason for said gleeful grin - Celestia did always have a weakness for weddings, wedding cakes especially.

"Sister, have you found them?"

From the newly made hallway, created by hurling an armored alicorn at a high speed, galloped a familiar figure.

Lyra did not hesitate. Her discarded strings levitated back into position around her, ready for the incoming enemy. Bon Bon did not stay behind, sweeping Anon up despite the filly's meager protest, and standing between her and the second alicorn entering the room.

Anon wasn't in the best state of mind - lightheaded, feeling like she was going to forcibly evacuate her digestive system into a different dimension, and with most of her senses simultaneously not working and working too much.

But even then, Anon could see the difference between the Nightmare Moon she had faced in battle and the mare standing in front of her now.

She was smaller, for starters. Her coat was a lighter shade of blue. She retained the fangs and slitted eyes, but her wings appeared feathery compared to the bat wings she used to have. The only overtly bat-like feature Anon saw, not counting the fangs, were two tufts of fur, each at the end of the former Nightmare's ears.

But those were all surface-level differences. The main difference was both more obvious and subtle at the same time.

Luna's shoulders were slumped, her wings limply hanging down. The pair of draconic eyes searching the ruins looked hollow and devoid of light. And while that was an improvement over the mad glee of someone enjoying the fear of others, it wasn't that much better.

"We mustn't halt in our search!"

Only then did the younger alicorn notice them, seeing the two mares ready for mortal combat against her.

Celestia stepped forth, placing herself between the two mares and the young foal, sitting unimpressed behind them, and her newly returned sister.

"Please," Celestia said towards Lyra. "There is no need for violence."

Luna sighed, ears flopping. "No, it's understandable for you to be wary of my presence, considering our last… confrontation."

"I kicked your sorry flank," muttered Lyra, just loud enough for Anon to hear.

Luna's ear twitched a little, a strained look on her face. "But I wish to right the wrongs of the past, starting now. Right, sister?"

Lyra's mouth opened agape. The color vanished from her face, probably deciding to take a vacation somewhere safer with a lower chance of execution for attacking a royal. "Wait, sister?!"

Celestia smiled, hearing these words again after so long. "Yes, this night has lasted for far too long."

The sisters stood side by side - as they always should have - with horns aimed at the starry sky.

The stars moved, the Moon dipped below the horizon. First there was the soft orange and reds of a new dawn. Another day, and another chance.

And in the sunlit sky - a few dots flying towards the palace. The pegasus-drawn chariots of the Royal Guard arriving at the scene.

Celestia draped one of her wings over the smaller alicorn, turning towards the awe-struck trio in the room with a sly smile.

"You need a lift?"

Ponyville.

What a silly place.

The trip back to town was… difficult. Not for the reasons traveling through a cursed, monster-filled forest normally is.

Sitting in one of the flying chariots, the passengers wallowed in the kind of silence typical for a group of people being suddenly stuck in a cramped space with nothing to do. Only now there was an added layer of awkwardness, considering they had been karate-chopping and throwing each other into the air not even an hour ago.

The chariot’s landed in the empty street by the library tree. Five mares poured out from the leading chariot, and the sixth - a rainbow-maned pegasus who had decided that racing the chariots was much better than sitting in them - rolled her eyes as she helped ponies back onto their hooves.

From the pile Pinkie Pie sprung up, scattering the rest of the Element Bearers. "Yay! We made it! You all know what that means?"

Twilight managed to get up, bags under her tired eyes, mane disheveled and filled with leaves. "A bath and some sleep?"

The pink mare started bouncing around her, streamers and confetti appearing from nowhere. Twilight watched in confusion as ponies rushed into the streets, ready to celebrate again - hailing them as heroes.

"No, a party!" the pink mare laughed, diving into the crowd.

Ponyville.

What a silly place.

Twilight was about to say something when somepony, or better somedragon ran up to her from the herd of celebrating denizens.

"Twilight!" Spike said, as he pulled the surprised unicorn into the biggest hug he could manage. "You did it. Your plan worked! You saved Equestria!"

The studious unicorn scooped the dragon up with her magic, placing him on her back with a delighted giggle. "Oh my gosh, I did! And I even made friends!"

The dragon raised a scaly brow at that. "Friends?"

Twilight nodded and pointed at the five mares she had traversed the treacherous Everfree with.

"There is Rainbow Dash," she pointed at the speedster pegasus, currently showing off her tricks to a small orange filly. "Who proved her loyalty when she fought off the shades back in the pavilion.”

"Pinkie Pie, who cheered us up when we were getting worried about everypony in Ponyville." The party mare resurfaced from the crowd, wearing a snorkel. She waved at Spike before diving back into the crowd, leaving the drake befuddled.

"Fluttershy, who tamed a manticore with her compassion." Twilight continued speaking, ignoring Spike's confusion at Pinkie Pie's antics. The yellow pegasus was momentarily busy with slowly backing off from the crowd, hoping nopony would notice she was gone.

"Applejack, who reassured me when I was in doubt." The farmer scoffed at Rainbow's tricks, prompting a quick hoof-wrestling competition.

"And Rarity, who calmed a sorrowful river serpent with a meaningful gift." The young drake glanced at the last one mentioned, hiding his blushing face behind his tail.

"That's… a lot of friends you have, all of a sudden," he finally said.

Twilight clapped her hooves together happily. "I know. It's so exciting and terrifying!"

She wilted suddenly, ears drooping, Spike patted her on the shoulder in a show of solidarity. "But it won't last," Twilight sighed. "Just when I learn how wonderful it is to have friends, I have to leave them."

"Not necessarily."

Princess Celestia gave her student a wink before turning to Spike. "Take a note, please."

The ever so regal Princess of the Sun cleared her throat.

"I, Princess Celestia, hereby decree that the unicorn Twilight Sparkle shall take on a new mission for Equestria."

She paused for effect, noticing Twilight staring at her with big eyes filled with anticipation. Celestia held a laugh and continued.

"She must continue to study the magic of friendship and report to me her findings from her new home in Ponyville."

Twilight stood still for a few seconds before the realization sunk in and she jumped up and hugged the Princess. Celestia craned her neck to more easily embrace her overexcited student.

"Oh, thank you, Princess Celestia! I’ll study harder than ever before!"

Twilight yawned, eliciting a giggle from the Princess. "Maybe tomorrow, my faithful student. But for today you should rest."

Twilight let go of the Princess, a sheepish smile on her face as she noticed the crowd watching.

"Ehm, yes Princess!" she said, thoroughly embarrassed, Celestia simply smiling at her.

Spike meanwhile climbed on Twilight to reach up and get a hug of his own from the alicorn, who gladly gave it, not paying any attention to the surrounding ponies.

Twilight yawned again, then glanced at the murmuring crowd around them nervously. Celestia simply waved her wing, returning to her sister, who had watched the whole interaction with clear amusement - happy to see her sister's antics hadn't changed much despite the years.

Twilight gave a wave to the Princess and said a quick goodbye to her new friends. The tired mare opened the doors to the library - she had to use much more magic than normal for this mundane task. But, again, she was tired, and only thing that kept her standing was the image of a warm bath and a comfortable bed. Using a little more magic wasn't really a big concern for her right now.

"Ah, home sweet home…"

She immediately heard the sound from every librarian's worst nightmare: the sound of wood shattering, and precious books crashing on the floor. Spines bending and pages getting torn.

Twilight froze standing in the entrance. Spike, attempting to appear innocent, stared at the ceiling - this being about the only part of the library that had remained relatively clean - and started whistling.

"Spike," Twilight said after a minute of shocked silence, the exhausted unicorn blinking owlishly at the pile of literature forming and the destroyed stairwell. "Why is there a hole in the library wall?" She shot a look at the overturned bookshelf, formerly blocking the doors, spilling its content all over the room after being pushed over. Twilight's eyes narrowed a little in concentration. "And why is the encyclopedia of Saddle Arabian flora missing?"

Spike gulped, the mare in front of him looking at the giant mess with a vacant stare.

"Ehm… it's a long story?"

Twilight, to Spike's great surprise, sighed. Even a bookworm like herself had a limit. Her limit was two days without sleep, having to march through monster filled wilderness for hours, together with already being tired and sore from her P.E. lessons.

"You’re going to explain this to me. And we're going to clean the library." She yawned yet again. "Tomorrow." She said groggily. "Any other nasty surprises I should know about?" Twilight asked.

The young drake shrugged, relieved and thanking his guardian star - sleep deprivation. "Can't think of anything."

"Good." Twilight deadpanned. "I'm now going to sleep for twenty hours. Have a nice time at the party."

"I will!"

Spike hesitated at the doors, turning back from the sounds of the party going on in the streets of the silly town of Ponyville. Was he forgetting something? The young drake stopped in his tracks as he connected the dots.

"OOWWWW!" screamed Twilight Sparkle, probably the most magically gifted unicorn of her time, as she landed squarely on the forgotten encyclopedia in her bed. Its many very prickly samples letting themself be known, and more importantly, felt.

"SPIKE!!!" yelled the unicorn, suddenly enveloped in flames.

Spike didn't hesitate after that.

He just started running.

Anon sighed.

The jumper watched the ponies around her laugh, she watched Spike's reunion with Twilight and she watched the alicorn sisters, the two never departing from each other's presence for long. Luna’s was making her first tentative steps toward the still-terrified citizens under Celestia's watchful eye. Reconciliation and forgiveness - Luna had a long path ahead of herself, but she would have her sister with her.

From the corner of her eye, she saw that they had served cake at the party, but she couldn't bring herself to go and get it.

She wasn't in the mood for cake.

Bon Bon and Lyra were there too, asking her if she was alright - she lied. What she was doing in the Everfree - got kidnapped by a shade, so also a lie. If she needed anything - no (big lie). Was she wounded? - nope, Celestia already checked on her, same with the medics from the guard. Nothing was wrong with her. Physically, at least.

So she stayed with them at the party, trailing just behind them. Watching and thinking.

The pair was engaged in a conversation with a gray pegasi mare with a unicorn filly by her side. The conversation started as the many before it: whether they were alright, how terrified they must have been during the long night. Such things. But soon the conversation turned to other topics. Something about school, and horn practice? Anon didn't really listen, letting the words wash over her without letting them take space in her head. That place was already full enough.

"That's her, Daddy!"

Anon had seen her in… his memories. His big sister. Muddled and broken, but she was still there. All memories of earth, of the old life before jumping, had been taken from her. Names, faces - lost to the wind, together with what she used to be. Not, not lost.

Stolen.

She looked at Bon Bon and Lyra, giggling and laughing, their eyes sparkling with joy as they revealed their engagement to the gray pegasus, who just squealed at the news.

They were happy.

And Anon didn't, couldn't, belong here.

"Excuse me. You’re Spring Break, I presume?"

The jumper turned, lowering her head and moving her legs - but there was no attack or ambush coming.

Speaking to her was a brown middle aged stallion wearing a tie, and with bags of money for a cutie mark.

Money as a mark? That seems a tad unfair.

Anon shrugged, trying to appear casual, an escape route already planned in her head - the thatch roofs should be only able to support her lightweight frame. "Depends on why you're asking."

Filthy Rich smirked. "Ah, a bold one, I see. I'm here to give my thanks."

Anon stared at the stallion for a few seconds, as if the very idea of somebody thanking her were too far-fetched to be real.

Deadly monsters and talking equines? Eh, why not. But a sincere gratitude? Impossible!

"Without your help, who knows what could happen to my most precious little Diamond." He explained, nudging the foal from where she was hiding behind his front leg. Anon noticed a cast around Diamond's fetlock.

"Daaad!" Diamond whined.

Filthy Rich ruffled the pink filly's mane as she pouted and rolled her eyes.

"So I just wanted to thank you and make sure that you were alright, young lady." the wealthy stallion said with a cheeky grin. "Really, I had to. Dia here was so worried about you! She was inconsolable!"

Diamond Tiara buried her muzzle into her father's side, as if she was trying to push him away from Anon.

"Daaad! Stop! This is embarrassing..."

Filthy Rich tilted his head. "Really? And here I thought her name was Spring Break. You have my apologies."

Anon held a laugh while Diamond groaned, eyes turning so far into the back of her skull she could see her own brain.

Filthy Rich smile faltered a little, his voice turned more somber and quiet.

"I cannot ever repay you for what you have done. If anything, and I mean anything, troubles you, the Rich household will always have its doorsopen. Understood?"

Anon looked the stallion in the eyes, both brimming with sincerity. "Yes… thank you," the jumper answered hesitantly.

He nodded, only once. There was understanding in the gesture. A debt was made, and debts have to be paid. Sooner or later. "Well, I'm needed elsewhere. Come Diamond, let's not leave your mother waiting."

They left, just as Bon Bon and Lyra were finishing their conversation. Not noticing that Anon wasn't there anymore.

The house that wanted to be a home was silent.

In this house, a bedroom waited for its little green inhabitant. Toys lay in the corner, gathering dust. The book stood unread.

Pop

The air shimmered, and where there before there was just air, now there was a small, green filly.

Anon moved fast, retrieving the few things she had left in there. There wasn't much. Most of her possessions were already on her - the True Spork, the orb, and the infinite bandage.

Most important was the jacket.

Worn and torn, held together only by a few threads, but the quality of the material still shone through. That it had survived for so long was itself proof of its hardiness.

The journal was last, tossed into one of the many pockets of the hiker's jacket. Anon gave the room one last look.

She had enough power for a jump. The weave spread out in front of her. The jumper only needed to focus her will into a fine point and start pushing until the fabric of reality gave.

"What are you doing?"

Anon nearly jumped right then and there, yelping in surprise as Celestia spoke from behind her.

Celestia looked outwardly calm, but there was the slightest hint of worry in her voice - a tiny quiver betraying her emotion.

Anon took in a deep breath, letting go of the grand tapestry for a moment. "Shouldn't you be with your sister?"

The alicorn ignored the question, sitting down in front of Anon, big purple eyes boring into Anon's soul. The jumper started pawing at the floor nervously under her gaze.

"You don't need to do this, y’know." Anon whispered, head hanging low, not able to look at Celestia anymore. "My plan failed. I didn't stop Nightmare Moon. I didn't protect the Element Bearers."

Anon struggled to breathe. A few tears made their way down her cheeks. "I did nothing."

Celestia raised a brow. "Oh really? Is saving the life of a foal nothing? Is risking your well-being for others nothing? If that’s so, there are a lot of medals I gave over the years for nothing," she chuckled. "Taking them all back now is going to make so many ponies cross with me…"

The Princess looked outside, at the blue sky, at the town filled with celebrating ponies. One of her wings extended over the jumper - not touching her, simply letting it hover above the green filly.

Celestia waited, letting the silence fill the room. The jumper still avoided eye contact.

"I’ve got to go," whimpered Anon. "I have to."

Celestia sighed. She walked over to the toys, picking one up in her golden magic. A plushie in the rough shape of a pony, made from coarse cloth. The immortal alicorn gave the toy an approving look, before putting it back down, now clean of the dust.

"I cannot stop you, but I'll advise you," Celestia said. "Wait a few more days. Rest. You deserve it, even if you’ve convinced yourself otherwise."

Anon shook her head, the world hazy. "I can’t. If I stop going now, I don't think… I have to go."

Celestia gave a sad nod, her eyes soft, offering support. Offering help. But Anon couldn't take it. The price would be too high.

"Your caretakers? What am I to say to them?" the alicorn asked. "They're probably already looking for you."

Anon opened her mouth, then closed it again, on the verge of… she didn't know anymore. Screaming. Crying. Jumping without another word.

"Tell them," she said. "Tell them that you took me to Canterlot. That some other family adopted Spring Break. Tell them… tell them that they did a good job."

Celestia stood there, motionless, a statue in the room, but her words struck like lighting all the same.

"Don't you at least want to say goodbye?"

The green filly's face was hidden by her shaggy black mane, away from Celestia's view, but she could see the muscles tensing on her neck - Anon was gritting her teeth, veins pulsing under the fur.

"No."

Anon let her experience lead her - opening a portal was a question of muscle memory at this point. Reality would just have to fight one more bar brawl against her, and it would lose as usual.

"I have to go now."

Celestia opened her mouth, wanting to speak, but she stopped herself before gathering enough courage to command her vocal cords to work. The vision of the past haunting her, of a dear friend gone to madness. Of his creations, the mirrors. Thousands of attempts leading nowhere.

She knew how this story could end. She had seen it once before.

Or at least, she thought she knew.

Anon focused on her power, closing her senses to the outside world. Letting it swell into a weapon to swing at reality with.

And reality dodged.

Anon trembled in place, clenching her jaw. The weave was refused to bend to her whims. The jumper put more effort into it, shaped her will into a needle, stabbed at the weakest spot she could sense.

Nothing.

Again!

Celestia watched, confused, as the filly started to shake. Phasing in and out of existence.

"Are you alright?"

She wasn’t.

With a thud, the exhausted jumper fell to the floor. Staring in horror at her hoof.

She had all the power she needed, and she still couldn't jump. It meant only one thing, something she had only heard in stories from the other jumper she had met. Something so terrifying, so horrible that it scared her more than any monster she had faced before in her life.

"I’m stuck," Anon whispered. Celestia let out a sigh of relief that Anon did not notice as reality, for once, caught up to her. "I’m stuck," she repeated. Truly lost once again.

In one of the hiker’s jacket pockets, an orb shined a faint golden light.

Author's Note

Déjà vu
I've just been in this place before
Higher-

Okay I stop.

Thanks for all the support and the beautiful comments. They always make my day when I read them.

This marks the close of the first arc. About a third of the story is out and I haven't been struck down by god yet.

But let's not jinx it.

(Also thanks Discombobulated Soul for helping proofread and PseudoBob for editing)

Chapter Twelve: Running Before Walking

Celestia took a critical look at the red embers in the forge, quickly deeming them not hot enough. She pulled once more on the chains next to her head, making the bellows blow. The flames burst mightily as the extra gust of air met the smoldering coals.

Her work had only just begun and her hoof - absent of its gilded shoe - hovered over the tools she prepared. Tongs, a set of small hammers, and a drawing plate, all waiting like soldiers on parade rest.

Currently, Celestia was a far cry from the regal princess who sat on a throne and oversaw court proceedings with a serene smile and a thoughtful look. Here she was a crafts-mare, just as she was raised in the ages long before her head bore the weight of a crown.

Celestia had forgone her usual jewelry while working the forge. Even her billowing rainbow mane was bound in a simple bun to keep it from getting in the way. Her normally painstakingly maintained white coat was now matted by oil and dirt, only partially protected by an apron.

The alicorn of the sun may have been unbothered by fire and heat, but she could always appreciate how practical the big pockets on the apron were.

Secluded in her workshop, the most personal space she had, Celestia could finally relax. Servants came every day to her chambers to clean them, nobles came to visit and petition her in her office, but the workshop? Few knew about it and even fewer were allowed to enter: A select group of those she trusted most.

This place was hers. Truly hers and nopony else’s.

The workshop was just a single large room, located in the abandoned tunnels under Canterlot Castle. Formerly a crystal mine, it was later used by the unicornian royalty as their dungeons, only for them to be repurposed once again after Canterlot became the capital of the new principality of Equestria.

To most, it would appear as nothing more than another dinky and unkept smithy. A badly lit room, with walls of uncovered bricks and floors of uneven stone. One with shelves brimming with material and tools scattered everywhere in a seemingly random manner. Several work benches and the black-stone forge sat in the middle of it all, forming an island of order in the sea of stuff.

The workshop didn't exactly seem like a place of comfort. The whole room could become unbearably hot when the forge was lit, turning cold while smelling of wet brick and stale air when it was dormant.

Celestia loved it.

Outside the forge, she was Princess Celestia. The Sunbearer. The Dawngiver. Diarch of Equestria. A ruler of all ponykind. That was who she needed to be for her ponies - that was who she had to become.

In this room, she was simply Celestia.

All her faults, all her happiness, everything she was, doubts, mistakes - everything. Finally free of the expectations, of the weight she had to carry - at least for a moment.

Here, in the light of the forge, she could express herself with the art of creation.

And express she did.

She was in every line of her pencil as she drew the blueprint and calculated the correct amounts for the metals and chemicals. They had to be precise to get the alloy just right for the enchantments to hold.

She was in every breath of the bellows as the fire grew and the metal started glowing white.

She was there as the liquid metal was poured out to be slowly and patiently turned into the desired shape.

To Celestia, there was great similarity between ruling and working the forge. Both needed effort and sacrifice. If one took shortcuts or avoided the hard parts, it would create only subpar results. Both required careful planning, where acting too hastefully could turn days of work into waste. A keen, open mind was also required, one ready to see new opportunities develop and use them.

And both also needed the occasional use of heavy blunt force instruments.

Celestia first hammered the metal into a rod, her horn left unused as she worked - her hooves wielding the hammer instead. Afterwards, she started pulling the newly made metal rod through the hole of the drawing plate with nothing but the tongs and her own strength.

She disliked using magic to sidestep any part of the metalworking process, for doing so betrayed the whole point of enjoying seeing her vision slowly be realized in reality.

And Celestia felt like Faust wouldn't like her using magic instead of the skills she took such care to teach her. Her adoptive mother may have been extremely open-minded for a pony of her time - taking in two stray foals not of her tribe and raising them as her own. But Faust was still a proud earth pony, stubborn as a mule to boot. One who saw the usage of magic as nothing but “avoidance of good, hard work.”

The metal rod was drawn into wire by pulling it through the drawing plate. The careful alloying of gold, silver and mithril gave the metal an alluring shine - all wavy and shimmering like the surface of a sea on a sunny day.

Now, she had to measure it again, to make sure there was enough material for the chain to have the right length while being strong enough. Taking extra care and patience couldn't hurt.

First Celestia would cut the wire and turn it into a mesh of links. Then, after polishing and filing down any imperfections, it came time to connect the chain to the locket she made from the same enchantment-bearing alloy.

The locket was a simple circular design, with an empty slot for one special gem - or orb in this case. She used her own Sun Orb to measure the space, noting that it should fit in without issue and complete the whole necklace, while the colors of the chain and the orb even complimented each other rather nicely.

There was still a problem with just how large the orb and the necklace would be in comparison to the green filly that was to wear it, but she was sure Anon wouldn’t mind much.

Celestia perked up, hearing the doors to her workshop opening from behind her, ears swiveling as she kept cutting the wire.

“Raven, it's late. You should go to sleep and not worry about some old mare.” Not turning away from her work, Celestia heard a familiar dulcet chuckle from the doorway.

“Don't worry, Tia, your assistant is having pleasant dreams this night. I made sure of it.”

Luna entered the workshop.

It was a strange thought to Celestia. She waited for so long to have her sister back and now, days after Luna’s return, the alabaster alicorn still couldn't believe Luna was actually here with her. It was as if this was all just a dream she would wake up from, with Luna disappearing from her life again. How many times did she have that exact same dream? Of finding her sister home, only to wake up?

But this time it was real. Luna was home, safe and sound.

Still, there was work to be done: helping to protect one of those who assisted in bringing her sister home.

Luna paced through the workshop, her eyes soaking in the details. Seeing her sister at work with her face lit up by the fire of the forge took the Night Princess back to a much simpler time.

Few things caught her attention in the simple place. She walked past the cluttered shelves and workbenches to a small, cleared space in the back. Nothing but a dusty carpet and pillows to sit on, with a little bookshelf to the side.

The ancient wooden bookshelf held a number of well-worn books. Luna browsed through the paltry collection of literature, curious to see just what her sister might be reading in her spare time.

It was a strange mix of story books for foals, a thick thesaurus, some spell books, including one from by Star Swirl the Bearded - one his earlier works, to Luna’s relief - and a series named Daring Do, tattered from repeated use.

There was also a collection of bizarre picture books, filled with ponies in spandex and written by somepony with a very poor understanding of combat and the durability of pony spines - at least Luna's humble opinion.

What interested her more were a few sheets of paper, held to the side of the bookshelf with scores of magnets and proudly proclaiming to the world such things as ‘Merry Hearths Warming’ and ‘Best Princessess Eva!’

Most of them were created with things like macaroni and crayons while some messages were buried under mountains of glitter. These little art projects were made, if not with skill, then at least boundless enthusiasm.

There were some other items lying on top of the bookshelf: Scales, very small dragon teeth, a pile of report cards – all reading straight A's - and a lonely gray book, placed by itself, away from the rest. The cover attributed no name to the mysterious tome, sparking Luna's curiosity.

A mystery to solve! Luna shot a look behind her, Celestia still busy with the chain. The princess of the night took the book and opened it, impatient to see its contents.

A cookbook, brimming with notes on every page which stuck out to all sides. Special mini donut recipes and the like. Luna guessed one could make an entirely new cookbook just from the notes.

Inside it was a photo of Celestia in disguise, standing in the entrance of some building, half buried under laughing foals, tugging at her mane, tail and wings. The oldest of the foals - a beige, earth pony filly with curly mane with pink streak in it - was running off with disguised Celestia's clipboard, only making the mare laugh more.

Or maybe that was the swarm of foals tickling her. It was hard to say from a photo.

Luna turned the picture around. On the back of the photo were a few words, written in her sister's usual flowing horn writing.

Canterlot orphanage, 984.

“I see you haven't changed much,” Luna said with a smile.

Celestia turned away from her work for a moment to give Luna a questioning look before carefully laying her project down on a workbench and trotting up to her sister. The taller alicorn’s gaze stopping briefly by a spot by the furnace. Few tiles devoid of any dirt or dust.

Spike had always liked the heat, often napping by the forge. The baby dragon was unperturbed by the frequently loud work going on. Twilight would watch her with those enormous, sparkling eyes, so filled with wonder and curiosity.

Twilight always had a surprising affinity for fire, being able to sit by the forge watching her for hours unbothered. Enough that Celestia started to suspect some distant kirin heritage.

The scene used to bring her immense joy, but it also served as a painful reminder of the past, tainting her happiness with sorrow and longing.

But not anymore.

Luna placed the book back, a small smile gracing her lips.

"You still try to mother anything younger and smaller than you, Tia.” Celestia reared back, a look of mock offense hiding the grin on her face as she leaned against her sister, playfully flicking Luna on her muzzle with her primary feathers, which left oil stains.

"Sister! Are you calling me old and fat?"

Luna gave a serious nod.

"But of course. Had I not known better, I would mistake your posterior for one of those modern contraptions," she paused, tapping her hoof on her chin. “Trains, you called them?”

Luna’s deadpan expression held for only a moment before she exploded into laughter, with Celestia joining in soon after.

“I missed this,” Celestia said, once the chuckles had finally died off.

Luna tilted her head, a wry expression adorning her face. “You missed me comparing your flanks to steam-powered machinery weight several tons?”

Celestia raised her hoof, but put it back down as her counterstatement died before it could leave her lips.

“... I don't know if I should be offended or just impressed that you actually listened to my explanation of what trains are.”

Luna, meanwhile, slipped past her to take a closer look at the half-finished locket.

“What are you making?” she asked, an eyebrow cocked in inquisitive demeanor.

Celestia sighed, presenting some of the unfinished chain links for Luna to see.

“A present. I have a feeling she is going to need it.” Celestia said. The image of the jumper after discovering that they are unable to continue in her quest was still fresh in her mind. The way the green filly nearly crumbled under the weight of the discovery slowly sinking in.

The jumper didn't throw a tantrum; they didn't scream, cry or run.

No, the jumper had simply stood there, still as a statue.

The white alicorn remembered taking the jumper back to her caretakers, the filly feeling ice-cold against her back. Lyra was, quite understandably, in the midst of a freak-out while looking for Spring. Seeing Celestia, a Princess of all ponies, carrying the foal didn't exactly calm the mare, considering how famous the crown's ties to Foal Protection Services were.

But if the diarch had experience with something, it was placating panicking unicorns. It hadn’t taken long to mostly calm Lyra down and explain that she only wished to speak to Anon in private for a moment.

Not a lie, really.

That didn't soothe the musician much, but it had stopped her hysteria long enough for Bon Bon to intervene. As for Anon, despite her apparent anguish, the jumper had continued to play her part.

Celestia sighed. She shouldn't have allowed Lyra to get attached so quickly, even if it worked towards the alicorns goals - and to the advantage of Anon in the long run, if everything worked out as planned. But the mare's tendency to immediately emotionally latch on to any foal in her care would definitely put her closer to the bottom of the list of potential foster parents - foster care was meant to be temporary, after all.

For now, the situation seemed stable, with Anon staying in Ponyville under Sweetie Drops’ watch and Celestia extending the offer to continue the deal of guarding the elements – even though it was unlikely a threat that would warrant such precautions would arise in the near future.

But that was never the purpose of the deal to begin with.

Behind Celestia, Luna huffed and turned her attention to the diagrams and calculations strewn around the workbench. Some of them were written on crumpled bits of paper, others crossed out altogether. Rejected ideas and designs, but they all shared a similarity. A feature present in all of them.

“Mind warding enchantments?”

Luna shot Celestia an inquisitive look. The elder alicorn carefully placed the mithril alloy chain down before responding.

“From what you told me, they seem like a good idea,” Celestia stated.

Luna was…sparse on the details when recounting her encounter with the jumper. She said only that there was a fight, one Nightmare Moon only won through finding out Anon's weakness and attacking the jumper's mind directly.

What happened next, Luna kept a secret. But whatever happened, it made her reconsider.

When Nightmare Moon was later facing the elements, there were no lethal spells, no attempt at actually fighting back.

For what it was worth, Anon managed to, or at least was a huge help in bringing her sister back. For that, Celestia owed the jumper more than she could ever put into words.

Allowing Anon to continue to be so vulnerable was unacceptable to the alabaster alicorn. Leaving the jumper's mind undefended was an oversight on her part that she planned to correct, the younger sister could only nod in agreement.

“Your mistake was not providing those enchantments in the first place." Luna paused, her features screwed up in thought as she considered something else. "An even bigger mistake was sending her against me at all. What were you thinking?”

Celestia’s shoulders sagged, deep sigh escaping her. “I should have thought about it: What it means to have no true name.”

Celestia's wings fluttered a little in a subtle sign of inner anger Luna learned to read in her sister. The very notion of stealing one's true name was incomprehensible; only once before in history had they seen such a cruel act done.

And they didn't exactly manage to save the victims back then, only witnessing the results of that gruesome crime. The effects it had on survivors were unknown, because there simply weren't any survivors.

True Names gave one’s soul shape. All creatures had them, but ponies were special in that they were closer to their True Names than most, having its reflection on their flanks.

The lunar princess still found it absurd that the modern ponies referred to the very imprint of their immortal souls as Cutie Marks. ‘Soul Marks’ or ‘Fate Signs’ were much better-fitting names. Why it ever fell out of fashion to call them such was beyond her.

Celestia straightened herself, the inner anger hidden and buried again. “I should have realized, yes. But I didn't send Anon against you.”

Celestia took a deep breath, her purple eyes speaking of sadness. “No. She was going to confront you one way or another. I just wanted to have some control over the situation.”

Luna shook her head. “I didn't mean…you you, Tia. I meant the other you.”

It took a second before the spark of realization lit Celestia's face. “Oh.”

Luna sat down by the forge, the fire blazing merrily away, shadows dancing on the walls as it lit the room in red.

“How do you plan to deliver Anon her new locket? I trust that you have some dependable ponies you can send to Ponyville with it.”

Celestia smiled the cheeky, scheming smile of a fox who had just snuck into the chicken coop. "Something like that. My social worker has a scheduled visit to the family."

"And who better for the job than Sunny Skies?"

The jumper stared at the ceiling, not moving a muscle. She was sweating and it was getting hard to breathe.

Get up.

Anon climbed from the blanket nest on the ground, her movements slow and sluggish, one hoof wiping the crust from her eyes. She tripped over a pillow, falling back into the blankets. The filly’s chest started to shake and shudder, tears started to-

Get. Up.

Anon bit her lips and her lower jaw started to tremble. She tried to walk, but her leg phased through the floor.

The filly stopped her attempts at getting up, taking in heavy, labored breaths and trying her hardest not to start sobbing. For a minute, she simply sat in her darkened room - the sun still not having risen yet. Moments passed in the house that wanted to be a home, seconds pilling on each other, as if they were trying to suffocate her.

On the floor laid her journal - it having been thrown there earlier, its yellowed pages speaking a single word, scribbled in as the latest entry, barely readable.

Stuck

Anon looked at the journal. It was a piece of home, of herself. The journal was here, she was here.

She had made it this far. Giving up and laying on the ground wasn't an option. She needed to do something.

Anon picked the journal up in her magic and put it in its hiding place. Then, still lethargic and moving like she was swimming through molasses filled with barbed wire, she got up and silently stalked to the bathroom.

It was a routine: Survival based completely on habit. Getting up, brushing her mane and teeth. Showering. Pushing herself to do anything. To move. Stillness was death. She had to move, do something, do anything.

She put her wet towel on a rack to dry and began carefully walking downstairs – she got used to four legged forms pretty easily, but stairs never stopped being an unnerving experience in them.

From the steps, the filly turned a corner and reached for a switch using her magic. With a mechanical click, the kitchen was revealed in all its unimpressive glory. A simple setup, one uncanny in how much it resembled a normal kitchen from earth.

She minded the creaky floorboards as much as possible - not wanting to wake her guardians and ruin the surprise - Anon opened the fridge to gather the ingredients. She had to use a chair to reach the kitchen counter and get the few utensils necessary for this.

Anon went over everything: Eggs, flour, sugar, butter, milk and everything else she would need.

Now just to find the waffle iron somewhere.

There was movement behind her - knives were laying on the kitchen counter. Her magic reached for them and-

Bon Bon cleared her throat.

"You know that if you were hungry, you could have just woken me up."

Anon relaxed, her magic releasing the knife grip as a wisp of her green aura dissipated into nothing.

"Sorry," she said, hopping off the kitchen counter.

.Bon Bon let out a deep sigh. "No harm done, just… don't be afraid to ask."

Anon averted her eyes from Bon Bon and towards the window - her escape route - before refocusing once again on the utensils.

"I wanted to surprise you. Do something nice.”For a change, she thought, but didn't say out loud.

The agent's eyes locked into the jumper's own green, dulled orbs.

There was a flash of something, for but a moment, across Sweetie Drops muzzle. It lasted only until the agent got it back under control, and Anon missed it entirely as the jumper tried to avoid eye contact, but it was there:

Understanding.

"I see… " Bon Bon muttered. "Can you move aside, please? I think it's in that drawer.”

Anon raised a brow. “Wait, what are you doing?”

The beige mare opened and dived into the drawer, the sounds of clanking metal making Anon’s ears twitch as Bon Bon started rummaging through the abundance of pots, pans, graters and four colanders.

“I'm helping you make breakfast.” Bon Bon said, pulling out a ladle stuck in between several more utensils. The poor ladle got buried there for so long that doing so technically counted as an act of archeology.

“Now, where did Lyra put the waffle iron again…”

Lyra woke up.

With her sleep-addled mind, she reached to the other side of her bed, but found it empty of the oh-so-very-cuddly beige earth pony. As disappointing as it was, this wasn't unusual, with Bon Bon being an early riser and a light sleeper to boot.

But there was also an opportunity.

Lyra stretched, snatching up all the blankets and cocooning herself in a snuggly blanket burrito, with only her muzzle poking out.

She let out a content sigh and slowly drifted back to sleep.

Her muzzle twitched as a smell reached her nostrils.

Bonnie is making breakfast.

Lyra lay in her blanket cocoon, thoughts racing in her head. They were all fighting between her want of another twenty minutes of sleep or getting to hug Bon Bon and give the candymaker her ‘nice-morning-when-you-are-around’ kiss.

She felt her hunger pang.

The minty unicorn wriggled out from the blanket’s snuggly grasp, trotting down stairs and following the sweet scent of vanilla and chocolate.

Breakfast won.

In the kitchen she saw Bon Bon, leaning over Anon as the green filly beat the contents of a bowl into submission by smacking it with a whisk over and over again. The onslaught continued as Bon Bon craned her neck around Anon to better see into the bowl.

"Don't overdo it-" Bon Bon said before being interrupted by the filly, who was entirely focused on the abused content of the bowl.

"Yeah, yeah, we don't want to have lumpy whipped cream.” Anon lifted the whisker, watching the cream form a mound, the top drooping a little, but overall staying firm. “It's ready.”

Bon Bon gave Anon a steady nod, opening the oven and pulling out the rack with finished waffles.

Putting waffles on a wire rack in a warm oven was a neat trick Anon had learned long ago. It kept the waffles from becoming soggy, even if one made them for a crowd. The key was keeping the oven just warm enough to keep the waffles crisp without drying them out.

“Six chocolate chip waffles, ready to go.” The candy maker announced as she put the finished waffles on the dinner table, where a bowl of fruit was already waiting for them to join in delicious union, spiced up a little by the topping of fresh cream.

Bon Bon gave Lyra a bright smile and ruffled Anon's mane. "Would you know we have a little chef here?"

Lyra took a bite of one of the waffles - again plain - not even glancing at the fruit, cream or syrup on the table, to Anon’s annoyance, but that’s why she made them chocolate chip.

Lyra scrunched her face, turning the morsel around in her mouth for a bit before swallowing.

“Wow, that's good! You really made this, Spring?”

Bon Bon took a waffle for herself, putting a nice portion of the cream on hers alongside some berries.

“Yeah, she did. I mostly helped her take the things from higher shelves. The actual work is all Spring.” At this, Lyra turned to Anon with a questioning look, the filly simply shrugging.

“Well, I did basically grow up in a pastry shop.”

Anon's whole body went rigid as a chill went down her spine.

You let slip.

She was still lying, still playing a role and it had only become more important that she wasn't found out. Yet, there was a treacherous part of her mind telling her to just… speak. Simply speak and deal with the consequences. Reveal bits and pieces, slowly reframing things to fit in with her fake story. Or even to tell them the full truth.

Lyra exchanged a worried look with Bon Bon, who shrugged helplessly.

“You don't speak much about… before.” Lyra finally said, choosing her words carefully.

“No.” Anon spoke slowly, as if the words were causing her to choke. “No, I don't.”

You always were a coward.

At first, both Bon Bon and Lyra stood silent. Then Lyra took a hesitant step towards Anon, who didn’t react. One step became a quick burst of movement.

And then Lyra came to a halt, just as abruptly as she started moving, practically hovering around Anon, wanting to help, but not knowing what to do exactly. She looked at the filly with an almost pleading expression.

The jumper returned her gaze, watching the unicorn mare and the whole kitchen steadily becoming less real. Less there.

Anon nodded. One movement made, not even realizing what she was doing. Not truly.

Before Anon could process what was happening, the minty unicorn was pulling her into a hug.

The jumper tried to summon the will to resist. Hugs were constraining and stifling, but also reassuring. It made her feel present, grounded.

Here.

But that also brought its own set of problems:

Being here meant not being somewhere else.

Bon Bon paced nervously in the kitchen, unsure of what to do. She sometimes approached Lyra and Anon before stepping back again.

It didn't take long before the green filly started to wiggle out of Lyra’s hug, the mare quickly letting go.

A loud rumbling noise which originated from Anon’s belly cut into the silence between them. Lyra giggled as she gestured to Bon Bon, who rolled her eyes but still maintained a pleasant smile while she took Lyra's hoof and helped her to her hooves.

“Somepony’s hungry! Better eat up, we have a busy day!”

Anon waited for a moment, gathering her thoughts.

She was stuck. Stuck for a long time, but it wasn't the end.

For so long, she kept on rushing, kept on moving. Kept on refusing to stop for the fear of not being able to get going again. Living - surviving - on nothing save inertia alone.

Never looking back, terrified of finding that the person she was had been lost. Chasing a remote chance, an impossible hope, because she had nothing else.

But now she had time. Stranded in a peaceful world, in a…mostly…normal town, with mostly normal people.

It scared her, scared her more than anything ever did before.

But at least she wasn't alone.

“So, what’s on the schedule?” Anon asked, causing Lyra's smile to grow wider.

“Today we’re getting you your bed!” The minty unicorn answered enthusiastically.

Outside the house that wanted to be a home, in Ponyville train station, a pink pegasus mare stepped onto the platform.

Her mane done in a bun, wearing no visible jewelry to speak off, traveling with nothing but a clipboard and a package under her wing. That, and a vest - not because of the weather, Sunny Skies didn't really mind it - but because of its pockets.

Entering Ponyville proper, Celestia couldn't help but smile.

Author's Note

Sorry if this chapter feels rushed - i had very limited time to write it due to life.

Thanks to all of you for your support and Merry Christmas!

Also, everybody go and wish delightful holidays to the ever generous Discombobulated Soul, who helped edit this chapter on short notice when my usual editor was also busy with life.

I mean it. I want to see Discombobulated Soul user page flooded with positivity by tomorrow. Go, my pretties! Make their day!

Chapter Fourteen: The Rain Before

"Aren't you a bit young to be an apprentice?"

Sweetie Drops looked up at the much taller guard. A rookie still uncomfortable in his newly issued golden armor, shifting uncomfortably in place.

"Course not,” Sweetie Drops said. "And stop blocking my way. I have food to deliver."

Too young!? I’m thirteen! Stupid guard…

The Canterlot palace was a very busy place at this time of day. Ponies going everywhere, hurrying about their important business. Nopony really paid attention to anypony else, making it trivially easy to sneak in. All she needed was to carry something and have some clothes to hide her lack of a cutie mark and help her better fit in the crowd. A white apron and a chef hat was enough.

The trickiest part to pull off was pretending that this was exactly where she was supposed to be. Accomplishing that took confidence, or in her case, a single-minded determination to accomplish her goal. It served as a mental barrier, stopping most ponies around her from thinking too hard about her presence.

And if somepony thought to question why the apron didn't fit her and why there was an apprentice from the kitchens running in the halls in the first place? Well, they wouldn't want to ask. Goodness no. Because they would risk being wrong and making a scene. And then they would look ridiculous.

Sweetie Drops hid a smirk.

This. This was something she was good at. Blending in. Being obviously right where she was supposed to be. Disappearing from the minds of everypony around her.

She lied to me!

Despite herself, Sweetie Drops felt her heart sink. It stung and hurt and left a bitter taste in her mouth.

The guard hesitated, unsure how to proceed.

His experience soldiering so far was mostly getting yelled at, which wasn't very applicable now that a sulking filly was demanding to be let through.

How was he supposed to know what to do? He wasn't even supposed to stand guard duty! He was a specialist, for Celestia’s sake! His job was supposed to be sitting in an armory somewhere, not bullying foals and having to deal with prissy nobles all day! Tartarus, he wasn't even in the Royal Guard! But when he told his NCO there had to be a mistake somewhere, they just started laughing and laughing…

Steel Wind sighed. At least there was no chance of him getting standing guard duty ever again.

"Who sent you here anyway?" He asked.

Sweetie Drops didn't budge in the slightest. It was all a mind game in the end.

This guard was the only one to stop her on the whole journey through the palace.

He was an exception, picking her from the crowd and talking to her. Probably because he was so new. He still cared about the job he was doing instead of standing aside and being a glorified door decoration like the rest of the guards. They were there mostly for the ceremony, not to do any actual guarding.

"Chef Coriander sent me," she pointed at the silver cloche placed on her back. "Supposed to deliver this"

In reality, Sweetie Drops didn't have the slightest idea if there was anypony named Coriander in the palace kitchens. But, considering there were hundreds of cooks employed there, the newbie guard wouldn't know either.

"Oh, okay," said the guard nervously. "Have a nice day?"

Sweetie Drops didn't say anything back, simply trotting onwards.

She was now in the Royal Wing proper. The gilded marble hallways were even more lavishly decorated here than in the rest of the obscenely opulent place.

So garish.

There were noticeably fewer guards and other staff around. Good. This lowered the chance of somepony stopping her, because if she got into the royal wing proper, she was supposed to be there, obviously.

Now only to find the right room.

This turned out to be a far harder task than it should have been; the doors all looked the same, decorated with the same insignia of golden sun and silver moon.

But one door stood out from the rest.

It was the handle that made Sweetie pause - polished to a mirror sheen from repeated use.

That's it.

Without hesitation, Sweetie Drops entered that one. The guards at the door did not react to this, standing there as their stoic selves tended to do. Their minds were already occupied with explaining away her sudden appearance.

A delivery from the kitchen? Well, it's a bit strange that they didn't send a chef, but they are probably all busy. Wasn't lunch being made right about now?

Imagination is a powerful thing, able to filter out the strange and explain the weird, so you don't need to bother.

Again, she was hit by the luxury of this place. It looked exactly how a pony would expect a princess' room to look like. Big bed, roaring fireplace, and enough gold to make a dragon jealous.

Yet, to Sweetie Drops, it all seemed so… impersonal. Phoned in. Like a performance by a retiring actor, fed up with it all. Just saying the line so they can go home.

It didn't feel like a place that had a pony living in it.

Sweetie shook herself back into reality, her goal in mind. Sneaking all the way into the palace only to get caught gawking at the scenery would be insanely stupid.

She lied to me.

But Sweetie would get her payback. The seeds of her revenge were already planted.

There was a desk in the room. It was alicorn sized, similar to the bed, but even that wasn't enough to prevent it from being buried in a forest's worth of paper.

After making sure she was alone, Sweetie Drops took the first stack of papers she could reach and replaced it with the cloche.

Now just to find somewhere to hide them.

It made sense to Sweetie Drops. Putting the extra papers somewhere out of sight, thus avoiding suspicion. Completely overlooking the fact that mysteriously appearing dishware would do that on its own.

She took the papers to a nearby closet, finding it mostly empty except for a smith's apron.

Unfortunately for her, she didn't have enough time to ponder the strangeness of the apron's presence as the doors behind her opened.

In entered one very ragged-looking white alicorn with a crazed glint in her twitching eye.

Princess Celestia, the reigning princess of Equestria, wasn't having a good day.

First, her open court - one of her more bearable duties - was canceled due to a scandal at the Zebrican embassy. The duchess Upper Crust made some very unflattering comments about stripes being out of fashion and the Zebrican ambassador retaliated by cursing the duchess and turning her green.

The whole disaster was resolved peacefully in the end, but then it was brought to her attention that somepony made a whole lot more requisition forms for the guard. This accidentally created two entirely new regiments of the Royal Guard and deployed some of them in southern Saddle Arabia by mistake, creating tension with the newly crowned shah.

The worst thing was that it wasn't even noon yet…

Enough was enough for the princess. In the light of new developments, Celestia decided that she was going to have a break and fill out some of the paperwork that had been steadily mounting on her desk.

But there was more than just paperwork waiting for her there.

Approaching the cloche with curiosity, the princess uncovered the hidden treasure underneath the shiny metal lid:

Cake.

But not just any cake. A chocolate cake. A sweet release from the bitter taste the day had left her with.

There is a good argument that her next course of action was highly illogical. But for an alicorn, the survival instincts needed for a normal monarch don't apply; she was immune to poison and able to shrug off normally fatal blows. Not to mention that, quite understandably after the day she had, the princess simply didn't care anymore.

And so she took a bite, unsuspecting of any foul play.

The cake was salty.

The temperature in the study instantly rose twenty degrees. Smoke started rising from the princess. Some of the papers combusted around her.

The cake was salty.

Such injustice! Such sacrilege! It demanded vengeance for the poor cake! Divine wrath against those that wronged her!

From inside the closet, Celestia heard a stifled laugh.

In a flash of gold, the doors were torn off hinges in a shower of splinters.

Celestia walks the path of peace. Rarely, she stumbles.

Mostly when cake is involved.

Inside the closet stood Sweetie Drops, petrified in mute horror.

The temperature dropped back, the charred remains of the closet doors were gathered in golden aura and hidden behind Celestia's unfurled wing. The smoldering paperwork gathered itself in a dustbin out of politeness. The alicorn herself halted in her tracks, blinking a few times while trying to discern just what was happening.

Sweetie gulped.

"... Hi Sunny."

Celestia stared.

It wasn't the dreaded disapproving stare - the 'I'm not angry, just disappointed' look, which is to children what a nuke is to cities. Nor was it the ‘I shall turn you into a pillar of salt’ stare, which is nearly as bad.

No, there was just confusion.

While that was far better than being smote by a beam of arcane light, it didn't inspire much confidence in the beige filly, who suddenly realized that this was a very bad idea from the start.

Finally, a rational thought made its way through the fog in the princess's head and Celestia came to the realization that she just shattered a large piece of wood into a thousand little sharp projectiles and the foal might be hurt.

"Sweets?" said Celestia, sounding more confused by the second. "Are you alright? How did you get here?"

Her horn lit with gold, a wisp of magic coiling around Sweetie Drops as Celestia kneeled next to her.

To Celestia's relief, there were only a few minor scrapes, which her healing magic made quick work of.

Then Sweetie Drops started to cry.

It started slowly. The filly wanted to hold the tears at bay, but shook more and more as she tried to breathe.

"Please, don't hurt me."

The words came out in a little whisper, but were enough to break Celestia's heart in a million pieces.

The scars would fade with time. But they would never truly go away.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Celestia said. “I'm not allowing them to hurt you. Not ever again.”

Celestia draped a wing around the little one's body. Simply waiting there, acting as a pillar for the little one to lean on.

"How did you find out?" Celestia asked, breaking the gentle silence between them.

Sweetie Drops’ ears drooped while she seemingly tried to completely hide herself behind Celestia's alabaster wings.

"I… I saw you use the spell before your visit once," Sweetie said haltingly, as if fearing some retribution if she said the wrong thing - which Celestia feared was exactly what was happening. The filly had a talent for preparing entire conversations in her head, just to avoid saying something that would upset somepony or get her in trouble. "Miss Tender Hooves didn't believe me, but I knew what I saw."

Celestia nodded, considering the fact that she didn't use the glamor spell to hide her true nature just anywhere, meaning Sweetie Drops couldn't have seen it and so was lying about how she had found out.

But that wasn't important now. The crying filly right next to her was.

"Shh, you’re safe,” Celestia cooed. Her horn lit again. A box of tissues appeared from thin air - summoned forth from somewhere in the palace.

At that moment, Sweetie Drops realized she had used the Princess' pristine wings to dry her tears after she buried her muzzle into it.

"Sorry," Sweetie apologized sheepishly, accepting the tissues.

Celestia didn't react to the stain, still offering her the wing.

"You snuck in all this way. Why?"

Sweetie Drops grimaced at the question, her mouth shutting tight, pawing at the floor in shame.

"I wanted to prank you."

Celestia raised an incredulous brow - only years of practice were preventing her from giving a far more shocked look.

"Prank me,” Celestia deadpanned. "You snuck into the royal palace because you wanted to prank me?"

"Yeah!" nodded Sweetie Drops vigorously. "You gave me a lollipop that was just a chocolate covered brussel sprout on a stick. I wanted revenge!"

Celestia fought the sudden, overpowering urge to facehoof.

"And your reaction was to break into the Canterlot palace."

She won, despite still getting the occasional twitch from her front leg, but her voice broke a little at the finish line

Sweetie Drops gave the struggling princess a blank look.

"Yes."

Celestia sighed. After a day like this, that was the only thing she could really do.

"Why are you here?” She asked. "Truly."

Sweetie Drops hesitated. Celestia simply waited, letting the filly think.

"You lied to me."

Celestia winced.

Mostly because Sweetie Drops was right.

The persona of Sunny Skies was the latest in a long list of her disguises. Sunny Beam, Sunny Smiles, Sunny Clouds (in her defense, that one was made on the spot), Sunny Day, and many others.

Celestia still vehemently argued that being immortal wasn't a curse or a blessing, wasn't inherently bad or good, but just another reality of life you had to become accustomed to. Just hard to understand, coming with its own boons and challenges.

The hardest of those challenges being relating to others.

Mortality is the one true connection every pony has to each other, no matter who they are - rich or poor. Great mage, knight, or a simple farmer - the finish line is always the same.

Except for the alicorns - and for nearly a thousand years - just the alicorn.

It would be so easy to make the slip. First once and then again and again. See those normal ponies as somehow lesser to her. Nothing but a quickly vanishing spark in the great scheme of things.

To stop thinking of ponies as ponies, but as pawns to be moved on a chessboard? Celestia long ago learned that's when evil is born. When somepony starts treating others not as living beings, but as things.

A princess had to be distant sometimes. Detached. Manipulating outcomes using whatever advantages and opportunities she could get. Making the hard choices nopony wanted to make. That's why Sunny had to exist - to remind her that behind every statistic, every number, was a story. A life with hopes and dreams. Not just a name on paper to be crossed out.

So she helped as Sunny. Not the big acts she did as a princess - the overreaching, incremental steps for the betterment of ponykind as a whole. She did the small, more personal good deeds - to not lose the vision. The ‘why’ she was doing it all in the first place.

But that came at a price. Sunny was still her, undoubtedly. Sometimes she even felt that Princess Celestia was the disguise, not the other way around. Yet, she still lied to those around her. And that had to hurt.

"I'm sorry Sweets." Celestia said. "I…I should have told you."

Sweetie Drops shook her head.

"No, I didn't mean about being a princess," Sweetie Drops said dismissively, throwing the used tissue away. "You lied about things getting better for me."

Celestia watched the filly in a stunned silence.

"Maybe it's me?" Sweetie Drops continued. "Why else would they always return me?"

Her head lowered, ears pinned to her scalp. More spitting the next words than speaking.

"Everypony else gets adopted," she said bitterly. "Nopony stays long. Just me. Good, old, broken Sweetie Drops"

The floorboards under Celestia's hoof cracked, leaving a black burn mark on the wooden floor. Years of practiced self-control tested against her rage.

"Sweets, you aren't-"

"Then why?!" The filly shouted. New tears flowing down her cheeks."WHY?!!"

Sweetie Drops nearly collapsed on the ground - caught by an extended white wing. Celestia didn't hesitate, pulling the crying filly close.

"Five times," Sweetie whispered into the princess's shoulder as Celestia held her. "Five times I've been taken back."

The filly didn't shout anymore, limp in Celestia's embrace.

"It's always the same," Sweetie croaked. "They bring me into a house, all smiles and fake happiness, and two weeks later it's as if they forgot I was even there! They just see right through me!"

Celestia sighed. Sweetie Drops was certainly omitting some details.

The filly had problems. Problems that were left to fester for far too long.

"You didn't make it any easier for them." Celestia said. "Running away. Acting out. Setting your last counselor on fire…"

Sweetie tried to pull away from the mass of snow-white feathers and warm fur, but she found she couldn't do it. Maybe Sunn- Celestia was refusing to let her go. Maybe she simply didn't have the mental strength to command herself to move.

"I… I just wanted them to see me." Sweetie said. "But maybe I’m-”

She was interrupted by Celestia glaring at her, primary feathers pressed gently against her chin. It wasn't a particularly angry glare. Well, it was angry, just not at her. At least Sweetie Drops was pretty sure this was the case. Mostly because if it wasn't, she would be on fire by now.

"Listen to me, Sweetie Drops."

The filly gulped. She had seen Sunny being serious only once before, but even that paled in comparison to the princess standing in front of her. There was power behind each word she spoke.

“You. Are. Not. Broken.”

Celestia's magic lit the room gold. Something was summoned by the princess into the bedchambers.

A book. Sweetie Drops recognized it instantly.

She didn't buy many presents for Heart Warming - it wasn't like she had anypony to give them to. The orphans there never stayed long enough to become true friends and the workers, while trying their best, didn't feel like how everypony told her family should be.

Sunny wasn't like that either, but she was close.

The cookbook wasn't one of her best ideas. Sunny had shown her how to bake and how to make sweets in the first place. She didn't need it, nor wanted it - at least in her mind.

And yet, Sunny never forgot to bring it to try some obscure recipe. The cookbook wasn't even that good a present. Something hoof made would probably make for a more heartfelt gift. It was simply the first thing that came to mind after hours of searching.

By now, it was more of a scrapbook than a cookbook. Sunny had continually attached more and more to it as they experimented with new recipes.

"The salty cake made me crave something sweet,” Celestia said playfully. “So let's go to the kitchens, make some edible cake. And then… Well, I think I have a proposition for you.”

The plan forming in Celestia’s head wasn't ideal, but when the standard system fails, well, then it's time to get creative.

The day wasn't going great, Lyra was sure of it.

She just couldn't really pinpoint where it all went wrong.

Sunny Skies took a sip of her tea, sitting relaxed in their kitchen back home, watching them squirm.

“So, when is the wedding?” Sunny asked.

Lyra gulped.

This whole scenario felt like a nightmare crafted specifically for her. A horrific combination of unannounced in-law visit and social worker coming just in the moment the foal she was supposed to take care of was covered in a rapidly hardening shell made primarily of mushed cabbage.

And now? This question? She didn't even start planning the wedding! She was screwed.

Their quick travel back home, Sunny Skies in tow, had been mercifully spared any more of Ponyville’s signature weirdness. With Spring now taking a bath upstairs, it was time for some talk over hot beverages - Sunny wanted tea while the rest got their promised cocoa - and the classic parental interrogation.

Bon Bon shrugged while pouring the hot chocolate, putting a cherry on top to finish and passing it to Lyra.

“We didn't really set a date,” Bon Bon said. “The whole thing was very spontaneous.”

“Well, that's a shame," Sunny sighed before a mischievous smirk slowly sneaked its way up onto her muzzle. "But I figure that you and your…Honey Bunny wouldn't really be into a big wedding, anyway.”

There is more than one kind of mischievous smirk. The one Sunny was sporting was close to what a cat might give a mouse. The kind that mice hardly find funny.

Lyra started to choke.

"The what?!"

Sunny raised an innocent brow.

“Big wedding?”

Lyra tried, and failed, to get some oxygen into her lungs.

“Honey Bunny?” she half-shrieked, half-spit.

Bon Bon blushed, the poor mare attempted to hide her flushed face behind her forelegs while Lyra recovered from the verbal flashbang.

Sunny beamed, pure self-satisfaction radiating from the mare like from an average cat.

"Ah, I waited a month to use this.”

Lyra mimicked her fiance in looking like an overripe tomato, both of them turning redder and redder by the second.

She and Bon Bon had a lot of nicknames for each other. Lyly, Honey, Bonnie, Bonny Bon and more. Most they used in public.

That one? Not so much, that one was reserved for…private use only.

"Once," stammered Bon Bon. "I let slip once."

Sunny furled her wing, tapping her chin with one of her primaries. Bon Bon's eyes grew wide at the gesture - she was going in for the finisher!

"I wonder," Sunny wondered. "Why such a nickname? What's the story behind it? I mean, bunnies are famous for only thinking about-"

"No!" Bon Bon interrupted, jumping on the verbal grenade in vain hopes of saving them from more embarrassment.

"-grass Bon Bon, they think about grass," finished Sunny.

Lyra stared, her mouth hanging open.

"Ehm, what?" she managed to struggle out.

Sunny gave her a serious nod.

"Grass," Sunny reaffirmed. "Bunnies think primarily about grass. And carrots. What else did you think?"

This was the moment that Lyra came to the conclusion that not only had she turned so red she was basically a smaller, female clone of Big Macintosh, but she may also be on fire. At least judging by the heat coming from her now probably melting ears.

"Eh, I thought… You know…" Lyra gave a meaningful pause. "The other thing."

Sunny Skies laughed.

It didn't take long for Lyra to learn something about the well-kept social worker. The cheerful pegasus mare whose smile brightened the room every time Bon Bon called her mom.

She was an absolute troll.

"I needed that," Sunny said, her expression changing into something more serious. "Sadly, I'm not here on a family visit."

The pink pegasus paused.

"Well, I'm here on a family visit, just… not the way I'd prefer."

Slowly, she pulled out a stack of papers out of her saddle bags. Followed by another stack of papers, swiftly followed by… a stack of papers.

To the pair's growing horror, their kitchen table started to creak, its legs threatening to give up under the weight.

"Aha!"

Behind the venerable mountain of paperwork, Sunny finally pulled the specific form she was looking for.

"How?" Lyra's mouth hung agape, staring at the still growing pile and then Sunny's relatively small saddle bags. "Just how?"

Sunny shrugged.

"I'm very good at packing."

The right paper found, Sunny deftly attached it to her clipboard. The whole movement seemed almost ceremonious to Lyra, like some kind of ancient tradition.

"Before we start with the evaluation," Sunny said, Bon Bon nodding along while Lyra almost leaped out of her chair and out the window as her prediction came true. "I have to ask."

Sunny paused, picking up her pen in the pink feathers of her wing

"Why was Spring covered in… filth when I came?"

Lyra sighed. No sense in prolonging this.

Before she could speak, she was interrupted by Anon, walking down the stairs, a wet towel around her mane.

"Hide and seek," Anon said.

The filly walked very slowly and deliberately down, seemingly afraid of the stairs. Lyra couldn't help but sympathize. Sadly, the only replacement for stairs - besides having wings - was using telekinesis on yourself, like the unicorn mages of old who lived in their stair-less towers.

Unfortunately, that left out everypony without a horn. That didn't bother the mages, who thought that anypony without the ability to self levitate didn't deserve their attention anyway. But it was a much larger issue for Lyra, considering Bon Bon wasn't about to just grow a horn anytime soon.

Anon finally reached the last step, trotted up to the kitchen, and sat next to them, smiling as Bon Bon pushed the still-steaming cup of cocoa towards her.

"Thanks," Anon said innocently.

Sunny frowned.

"Hide and seek? Is that so?" She asked, eyes narrowing dangerously.

Lyra hesitated for a moment. She could lie. There wasn't a way to disprove it.

But it wouldn't be right towards Spring.

"No."

Anon shot her a surprised look. Here she was, providing a good excuse, and she wasn't taking the opportunity?

"We bumped into somepony in the street. Well, crashed, more accurately," Lyra admitted. "Spring got spooked and hid. She does that sometimes…"

Sunny nodded, the pen held by her feathers gliding swiftly on the paper, writing down each word in neat, flowing writing that somehow made it look even more official.

"I see," she said finally, after a few moments of tense silence.

The pegasus turned towards the foal, a gentle expression on her face.

"You don't need to cover for your caretakers, young lady," she said softly. "I'm sure that they are capable adults, able to take responsibility."

Sunny turned towards Lyra and Bon Bon, a somewhat more somber and serious look to her.

"Would you mind if I spoke to Spring alone while you fill in the questionnaire?"

Lyra raised an eyebrow.

“What questionnaire?” Lyra asked.

Sunny smiled again, pointing at the mountain of papers beside her.

“Nothing big, just…” Sunny gave a vague gesture. “Around two thousand questions. Give or take a few hundred.”

Lyra gulped, searching for something to say.

“Fiddlesticks.”

Author's Note

Well, here we go again.

If you don't know what a cloche is - as I just learned from my editor and proofreader that it isn't a particularly common word (Hi PseudoBob and Discombobulated) then hear me explain.

Basically, it's those dome shaped shiny metal thingies fancy people put food in. So they can be all fancy and reveal the food and it be all pretty and protected. If I'm not mistaken cloche means bell in french so that's where the word comes from.

Chapter Fifteen: Teatime Master

Anon glared at the bath, trying to make it vanish.

Or more accurately, to make herself vanish.

Still doesn't work.

The jumper stood there, reality withstanding yet another attempt at beating it down.

They had just arrived back at the house. Bon Bon had drawn a bath for her, and even put in some bubbly soap. All that was missing was a little yellow rubber ducky, and then it would be perfect.

A hot bath.

It was something she'd long wished for, after so many cold nights spent crawling through thickets and mud, sand and ash.

Her ears swiveled towards noise from downstairs. Voices. Sunny was in the process of teasing the two mares out of existence.

I should go down and help them.

The thought came, but Anon couldn't say from where, exactly. It had placed itself into the forefront of her mind and solidified.

Help them. She had attempted to help this whole world. Why? So unsafe, so easy to die. A slight misstep was all it would take. Better had died from less.

But Anon knew why she chose to fight the Nightmare: for once, she wanted to change something. Leave an impact. Some evidence that she ever was. A world flourishing where there should be a frozen wasteland or a burnt out husk. People living where they should be dead. Even if nobody but her would ever know.

And after, she would move on. Never looking back, not expecting any thanks or gratitude, because there wouldn't be any. The knowledge would be enough for her.

So she thought.

I can't afford to care.

Can I?

Anon stepped into the bath, scrubbing the filth off. It would be much faster to simply phase and leave the rotting plant matter behind, but baths were a luxury she intended to enjoy for as long as possible.

There was no hurry to get rid of the grime clinging to her fur. Filth like that was just plants turning to soil. Anon had crawled through things much more foul. But soil and mud, or things becoming soil, didn't disgust her anymore. How could they?

Once one clings to soil for their life, gives themselves to earth as their blood boils with fright and animalistic terror, death and shrapnel flying past, it stops being dirt and becomes a familiar friend. A shelter. This was just some plants becoming soil. Nothing to be ashamed of or be disgusted by.

But being clean was truly something else. It meant being more than an animal, struggling to survive. A bath was a victory over an uncaring and cold universe. How could one take a bath for granted? Being clean for granted? Encircled by a world that didn't care if one lived or died, it was nothing short of a miracle.

Some noises came from downstairs, interrupting Anon's musings. Groaning followed by silvery laughter. She started scrubbing quicker.

That was weird. She didn't want to hurry, but it felt wrong not to. Yet, she was aware that nobody was in any danger. Lyra and Bon Bon would still be there even if she took a little longer, submerged in the warm water. But it didn't feel right to take her sweet time.

So she got up from the bath, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her head, and rushed downstairs.

I shouldn't keep Celestia waiting anyways.

Celestia sipped on her tea and closed her eyes as she enjoyed the pleasant taste - earthly and vaguely sweet. She had always loved chamomile, and Sweetie Drops never failed to prepare a good cup for her.

Anon was sitting in front of her. The green filly had an utterly unimpressed look settled on her face, seemingly uncaring and unreactive to the stranger inviting herself to their home. She had a wet towel still tightly wrapped around her head, and her fur clean was and without blemish, if still slightly damp.

The newly engaged pair had left to start working on the questionnaire (after Bon Bon brought in a wheelbarrow to move it first, that is), leaving them alone for some time.

The jumper was putting on a facade of calm, but Celestia could clearly see little cracks in the mask. Curiosity or anxiousness hidden behind an air of apathy. Good. A false air of apathy was leagues better than real apathy. Fear could be defeated by will, anxiousness calmed with patience, but apathy was a tough beast to kill.

Celestia cleared her throat and ruffled the papers she had in hoof. It was important to ruffle the papers and have her quill ready to write, even when nothing of note was happening. It gave others the right impression. A part of the role she assumed.

"Can I ask you a few questions, Anon?" she said carefully, testing the metaphorical waters and measuring the jumper's reactions. "You don't need to answer straight away if you feel uncomfortable, but-"

"Celestia, what the fuck are you doing?" interrupted Anon, while punching herself in the muzzle - an attempt at face-hoofing Celestia guessed, and she winced, seeing the filly in pain. And, more by instinct than anything else, a ghostly wisp of gold reached the bruise.

To her credit, Celestia made a truly commendable attempt at salvaging her cover - ignoring the quick use of healing magic on Anon - by keeping a straight face through the accusation, while internally cursing herself for not thinking to bring her own Sun Orb with her - it was basically perfect for situations like this.

No matter, she would just have to make do without it. She hadn't survived hours upon hours of pointless blabbering from the nobility without developing at least a passable poker face - Luna's opinion to the contrary notwithstanding.

"Who? The princess?" she asked, putting down the clipboard and giving the most innocent look she could manage.

Anon rubbed her temples, feeling a big headache coming already, and a weird warmth coming from her bruised muzzle.

A strangely familiar, tingly kind of warmth - but her Sun Orb was inactive.

Which means…

"God, your acting might be even worse than mine," Anon said, with genuine surprise in her voice. "I have to applaud you on that. I didn't even think that was possible, honestly."

The alicorn in disguise cocked her head, putting her hundreds of years of experience at court intrigue to work with a sure answer that would definitely destroy any suspicion placed on her.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Anon gave a very deep sigh, still rubbing the sore spot on her muzzle, fighting not to attempt face palming again.

"You called me Anon."

Celestia shuffled in place, coughing awkwardly while pretending to write something down - forgetting to dip the quill in ink.

"I simply misspoke," she attempted, feeling desperate and silly for making such an easy mistake in the first place. "I've read your file. Nurse Redheart said that's how you introduced yourself. I apologize for the confusion."

"Right, that sounds plausible enough," Anon nodded. "But then there is your chamomile tea."

Celestia cocked her head, clearly confused.

"Chamomile tea?" She looked at the cup, as if it was accusing her of some terrible crime, steam rising steadily from the hot liquid. "Lots of ponies like chamomile. It's good for the nerves."

Anon took a greedy gulp of her cocoa, the foam on the surface giving the filly a mustache.

Celestia frowned. Anon was enjoying her misery maybe a little too much. Payback for teasing the pair? Well, that was fair enough. But she'd only done that to help Lyra relax around her - better to be a little embarrassed than afraid, at least in her book.

"I guess so. Chamomile tea seems surprisingly popular around here," Anon smirked, green eyes sparkling for a brief moment. "But not everybody drinks it while it's still boiling hot."

Celestia froze, taking a careful sip of the steaming tea, the fire immune alicorn only now realizing that it was still very much hot.

"...So, you have some strange vocabulary." Celestia said with as much a straight face she could manage. "Tell me, what is this god you speak of?"

"Please stop pretending," Anon said. "Just a minute ago I saw your forehead glow. I'm pretty sure pegasi can't do that."

Celestia was beginning to sweat, a notable feat coming from the alicorn in charge of the sun. The green filly pointed down, bringing attention to her forelegs.

"Also, you left your gold horseshoes on."

Oh no, not again!

Wide eyed, Celestia shot a panicked look at her hooves, only to find them absolutely normal, absent any gilded hoof protection.

But the fact that she looked in the first place was evidence enough.

"Uh-huh."

Celestia paused for a few seconds, while the filly kept grinning smugly at her. The disguised alicorn sunk into her seat, until something stirred her back up.

"Wait," she said slowly, the corners of her eyes crinkling, the tone of voice serious. "Did you punch yourself just to see if I would heal you?"

"Nope." Anon waggled her hoof. "But hey, at least I got a laugh out of it."

That was reassuring to Celestia. If it was an unlucky incident turned into a trick, that was one thing. But to be so eager to cause herself pain just to prove a point would be very worrying.

Anon suddenly asked, "Does she know?"

Celestia cocked her head. The filly stared at the mug of cocoa, now half empty, muzzle scrunched. There was a hidden edge in those green eyes.

"Bon Bon calls you mom," Anon said slowly. "Does she know?"

At this Celestia laughed, tension suddenly released. Anon flinched at the sudden movement, but Celestia couldn't control it.

"Of course she knows," Celestia stated after she gained some control of herself. "Found out pretty quickly too. It's funny. Foals have a penchant for figuring it out."

Sweetie Drops was far from the first. Faithful students, baby dragons, or any other foals that had found their way into her care. It was as if her disguise would simply dissolve under their gaze. The record-holder was Cadence. Ten minutes was all it took until the newly-ascended alicorn figured out who she was.

What a day that was.

"I think it's because foals don't know what impossible means yet. Or how things work, or at least not how everypony thinks they work," Celestia said, getting lost in the memories. "Foals see a world for what it can be. Not how everypony thinks it is.”

Anon sat, barely moving. A strong sense of déjà vu was attacking her senses. She'd had this conversation before. Although in a different context, it was practically the same.

"A noble for example," began Celestia, "looks at me and sees only what they already expect to be there, and nothing else. Foals, though… foals are far smarter than that."

Anon chuckled - it was lacking mirth, but still a good sign to Celestia. The jumper definitely seemed in a better place than the last time she had seen her, even her smile almost looked genuine. She seemed cautious too, her eyes focused on Celestia entirely, instead of darting around the room for possible escape routes or weapons.

"Well, then I'm the first adult to get it." Anon said, hoof tapping on the table in thought. "I mean, Sunny? Really? Nobody else figured it out?"

Celestia shook her head, a cheeky smile sneaking its way onto her lips.

"No. No adult yet," she said.

She was hoping to settle the score, after Anon tricked her with the horseshoe bluff, with some light teasing.

But Anon did not react, as she'd hoped, by playfully shooting right back. The jumper frowned instead, snorting angrily.

"I'm not a kid, Celestia," Anon huffed, crossing her hooves over her chest.

"Hmm, you sure?" Celestia retorted. "Could have fooled me..."

There was a beat of silence, with the jumper avoiding eye contact, staring at her cocoa. Celestia sighed, and jotted something down on her clipboard before putting the quill back down.

"Why?" she asked more gently. "Why didn't you mention your memory issues?"

Anon recoiled, her front hoof flickering for a second, accidentally going through the table.

The jumper froze then, breathing heavily.

There was only one person Celestia could have learned this from. Luna ran her mouth and spilled the beans. That complicated things. Anon had hoped that Luna would forget much about her time as Nightmare Moon, but that was obviously not the case. She remembered enough to make Celestia worry, at least.

She wasn't an amnesiac. Anon reminded herself that her memory was fine. She remembered her favorite movies and books. She remembered early mornings in the mountains and hot summers in a small apartment without air conditioning. She remembered being in the scouts, camping in the forest, and doing terribly stupid things out of boredom with her friends.

It was only herself that was missing.

"I didn't mention it, because it was irrelevant," she said, her gaze shifting from side to side. "You should tell Luna to keep her nose out of other people's business and her magic out of my goddamn mind!"

Anon took in sharp, shallow breaths, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she desperately tried to keep calm, only now realizing that she had screamed out the last part.

The disguised alicorn reached for her, the pinkish wing extending to offer some small sense of security, but Anon pushed it aside.

"Don't," she snarled.

Celestia retreated, her face unreadable. But the green filly chastised herself. This was bad. She was getting irrational - her anger at Luna, her anger in general, was making her act too rashly. Celestia was the only ally she had. She couldn't afford to lose her good favor. Holding a grudge - even if justified - would only make her position worse.

Don't run your mouth, keep to yourself and stay alive.

"I apologize," Celestia said. "I have overstepped my boundaries."

Anon stared at her, brow raised. That was…not what she expected.

But before she could ponder it, Celestia spoke up again.

"Have you ever wondered why this world chose this form for you? This age?"

"No," Anon said, fidgeting nervously. "I don't… I try not to think about it. It's not worth the effort."

Feandil had had a theory that it was the Weave's attempt at accepting them - remaking their bodies to better fit the places they had found themselves in, but it made no difference to Anon. Whether it was the will of the world or just a simple throw of the dice, the result stayed the same.

But what Celestia was implying, that her broken memories and lack of true name led to her being transformed into a child…

Anon shrugged. If there was nothing she could do about it, it made little sense to waste time thinking about it. So her lack of true name had more consequences than just screwing with her mind and memories, it wasn't like she could just get another one by doing a pretty dance or making something explode. What was done was done, now she just had to live with it and adapt to the best of her abilities.

"You…" Celestia paused, her expression suddenly appearing so much more strained, almost. "You fell in, didn't you?"

Anon raised a brow. This was another example of Celestia showing far more understanding of jumping than she should have. Thinking about it, Daybreaker was the same: displaying knowledge of jumping, but refusing to reveal from where. The only logical conclusion was that she had met a jumper before.

Something is definitely not right.

This secrecy didn't bode well. If even Daybreaker kept it a secret…

I need to know more. Find out what happened to the first jumper. And why Celestia is so tight-lipped about it.

It was grasping at straws, but if the other jumper was capable of jumping out of Equestria, it meant her condition was either temporary or curable, right? At least it would disqualify an external force as what was keeping her tethered here.

"Every jumper falls in at least once," Anon said evenly, trying to discern any change in Celestia's expression. Trying to discern if this was information the alicorn already knew. "That's how our power first manifests."

There was a nod from Celestia. Again with that saddened, pained look.

So she knew that already.

"How far did it fling you?" Celestia asked, gaze locked onto the jumper in a way that made her shudder.

The previous jumper was her friend.

That made too much sense once Anon put that together. And by all that secrecy, it probably didn't end well for the previous jumper.

"That's…impossible to say," relented Anon after a few seconds. "Distance is really hard to measure when the rules of spacetime are only applied to other people."

"But there are rules to jumping," Celestia countered, taking a sip of the tea, her movements monotone. "Unbreakable ones."

Chamomile, good for the nerves.

The disguised alicorn shot Anon another sad look. Almost bitter. It only served as further suggestion as to the other jumpers' fate.

"It takes… about five days for a blind jump, yes? No way around that?" she asked, and Anon nodded in answer. "But you jumpers are born with your power growing until it reaches critical mass. And then-"

She paused to drink again.

"So tell me," Celestia said, placing the cup back down slowly and delicately, as if it was the most precious and brittle treasure. "If it takes a week of building power to jump from one world to another, how far do you think years got you?"

Anons bit her lip, suddenly reminded of her new body's tail as it subconsciously tucked itself under her legs.

"That's not how it works," the jumper began. "Falling in the space between is… random. Uncontrollable. You're like a ball in a pachinko machine, bouncing around, stopping and starting again, until you lose all momentum. One could start and end in the same place in the Weave but-"

Anon stopped herself. Firstly because she doubted Celestia had any idea what a pachinko machine was, and secondly because explaining the Weave to a non-jumper was… difficult. The Weave wasn't made to be understood. Anon only used the term because Feandil had, and Feandil had only referred to it as a 'Weave' because he'd heard about the 'fabric of reality' and thought it was funny.

The Weave was, as far as Anon understood it, the foundation on which universes existed and also the stuff they were made from.

It’s like dirt, Feandil explained to her one day. Something can be made from dirt and also stand in dirt.

Or, after Anon told Feandil the name of her homeworld, Earth.

He mostly used it to loudly announce that they were on Earth every time they arrived somewhere, to mess with Anon.

She hated his stupid jokes back then. Strange how much she missed them now.

Mirroring the space that Anon was at least somewhat familiar with, the different universes on the Weave did as stars do in space - clustering, branching, and influencing each other in all those terrifying, incomprehensibly giant ways. But instead of gravity wells pulling galaxies together, for universes it was something else. Ideas and circumstances and chances and probabilities bled over from one to another, each having their own pull on the other - or more accurately, having their own pull on the Weave. The more similarities worlds shared, the closer together they stayed. To the occupants of one universe, some of its neighbors would be familiar, some of them would appear alien, and some would contain talking, pastel-colored horses.

Yet, again mirroring space, most of the Weave wasn't filled in with universes. Most of it was just empty.

To a jumper, 'falling in' simply means jumping and, instead of ending up somewhere, ending up nowhere.

Still on the Weave, technically, but nowhere nonetheless. And while the millions upon millions of different somewheres a jumper found themselves in on a weekly basis were rarely pleasant, the nowhere between universes was an entirely different beast. Especially the patches of nowhere that were almost somewhere and definitely not empty.

Nothingness is one thing - almost merciful in its hostility. If a jumper got stuck without power in nothingness, well, they would die. End of story.

No, it was the nearly empty places one had to look out for. Those forgotten little corners of not-quite-nothingness, where untethered ideas and abandoned dreams mixed together.

Death is easy. What awaits there is not.

"But the risk of falling in is always there. Isn't it?" Celestia asked, despite already knowing the answer. "If you're lucky, you claw your way out, a little less you. But if you're unlucky…"

Celestia let the sentence hang in the air for a few beats. Anon sighed, eyes drifting to the windows, the rain outside weakening into a steady drizzle.

Anon shook herself - she had to focus, now.

"You look better than when you first came to the palace," Celestia observed. Anon turned to look at her, caught off guard.

The mare smiled. There was fondness in the expression, or pride, perhaps, and Anon wasn't sure it was entirely aimed at her.

"Hmm, much healthier, definitely," Celestia hummed. "Your fur even shines a little. I suspect somepony is sneaking hay into your meals."

Anon stayed silent. Celestia eventually relented, producing a small box from under her wing and carefully unpacking it.

"I have something for you. It should help, as you put it, 'keep others out of your goddamn mind.'"

There was a shine of gold and silver. An amulet, with an empty slot in the shape of an orb, hung from Celestia's hoof.

Anon shot her a questioning look. While the craftsmanship was impeccable and she had nothing against jewelry, she hardly understood how it could help her.

"It's enchanted," Celestia explained. "It's not perfect. A skilled enough mage can still breach it without much trouble and affect your mind. But it's far better than nothing."

Of course it's magic. Should have realized that.

Anon picked it up in her telekinesis, and the moment she did, the amulet and the chain connected to it lit up in green hues as hundreds of barely-visible engravings started to glow before dimming again an instant later. Carefully, Anon touched the surprisingly warm metal, feeling a hum of power through its polished surface.

"Well, that's going to raise some questions," she laughed nervously. "How am I going to explain it?"

Celestia smirked, playfully waving her wing in the air.

"You see, the guards just recently discovered it during their investigation into your case," Celestia pointed at Anon - at the orb tucked away in her mane with some use of gravity manipulation. How she had known it was there, Anon had no idea. "Considering it matches your gem, the guards gathered that it belongs to you."

Anon nodded, pulling out her Sun Orb and inserting it into the empty slot with a click. The artifact gave a brief flicker of golden light in response.

"I see… thank you."

Celestia waved her hoof, but Anon could swear that her eyes lit up for a second.

"Think nothing of it. Now, I think they've had enough time to fill out the questionnaire."

Anon got up, the necklace hanging around her neck.

"Yeah, let's- wait, what's that?"

Celestia froze and Anon's ears swiveled to the side. There were noises: the thundering of hooves on cobblestone.

Quite a lot of hooves.

And somewhere amid the chaos, music was playing.

Is that Benny Hill?

On the street was a mob. A weirdly excited mob, armed with everything from paint to carrots.

They were chasing somepony.

"Twilight?"

"What even is this nonsense?!?"

Their bedroom wasn't very big. It was enough for the two of them, but it did get a little cluttered sometimes, despite Bon Bon's best efforts to organize.

One bed, four walls painted blue, and a lot of knick knacks making up Lyra's collection. Comic books, a bunch of ancient lithographs (because in Lyra's opinion, those old posters for Prench musicals were just what the room needed), even a whole wall dedicated just to framed vinyl records.

"It's ridiculous!"

Lyra slumped down onto the table, sending papers flying everywhere. Bon Bon leaned over her and placed a reassuring hoof on her shoulder, but it did little to calm the fretting unicorn down.

"Most of these questions are just stupid!" Lyra cried, pointing at the offending text. "I mean, we passed all the tests, why are they making us do more?"

Bon Bon sat down next to Lyra, gently prying the paper out of her hooves. The ever-changing beast that was the Equestrian bureaucracy did not typically interfere with the everyday lives of its citizens. But when it came to the Foal Protective Services, they operated at full force and with a vengeance.

Sometimes Bon Bon wondered if the extensive hoops and endless questionnaires and forms were just another test for potential adoptive parents. The theory went that if they had enough willpower and patience to withstand the full brunt of the bureaucratic system, then surely they could handle raising a foal.

"C'mon Lyly," Bon Bon said, neck to neck with Lyra. "It can't be that bad if we've done it all before."

Lyra gave her a nod. Bon Bon was right, she could do it! For Spring! This small hurdle couldn't stop her! At least, not for long!

"Question number fifteen," Lyra began. "In your opinion, is thinking about yourself selfish? Yes or no."

Silence filled the room. Bon Bon sat there, stumped. Lyra started tapping on the table, seconds ticking sluggishly by.

"I mean, of course it isn't selfish to think about yourself." Bon Bon said hesitantly. "Did they mean only about yourself?"

Lyra read the paper again, shrugging.

"Nope, I read it right the first time."

Bon Bon's mouth clamped shut, thinking.

"Then just circle no and move on," she finally offered, grabbing a quill to circle in the answer, before Lyra grabbed it in her magic.

"We can't do that!" Lyra exclaimed, waving the quill around. "Don't you see? If we say no, they'll think we're some kind of narcissists!"

Bon Bon ducked under the swinging quill, the writing instrument-turned-projectile missing her by a few inches as it buried itself into the wall.

"Then just circle yes!" She yelped.

"We can't do that!" Lyra grabbed Bon Bon's head, cupping her cheeks. "If we say yes, we'll look like we're encouraging Spring into an endless circle of unhealthy behavior, putting more and more expectations on her until she breaks, leading into a terrible accident that will leave her hurt and abandoned by the ponies she thought were her family!"

Bon Bon stepped back, horrified.

"Lyly! We would never do that to Spring!" Bon Bon paused, her brow rising. "You were talking about Spring, right?" she asked. The minty unicorn recoiled, scratching her neck and smiling sheepishly.

"What?" she laughed nervously. "I'm rambling. Sorry. I'm just… tired."

Bon Bon couldn't help but agree. It almost felt like somepony had purposely put nothing but trick questions into this test as some sort of… prank.

Darn it.

"We should take a break," Bon Bon announced, pushing Lyra away gently. The minty mare nodded in defeat, walking towards their bed and face planting into the covers. Bon Bon rolled her eyes and sat next to her.

"That's one way to do it," Bon Bon giggled.

"Hmm," was the answer. "Bonnie, could you please turn off the music?"

Bon Bon cocked her head, not hearing anything.

"What… music?"

The sound of spectral banjos and the trampling of hooves began to shake their house. One of the framed vinyl records fell from the wall and shattered on the floor.

Alerted, Bon Bon rushed towards the bedroom window, looking outside for the source of the disruption.

And she didn't take long to spot it.

Twilight Sparkle ran.

She was surprisingly good at it, all things considered.

Too bad that the horde of ponies behind her was even better.

"Faster, faster! They're gaining on us!"

Having Spike on her back, yelling right into her ears, was also far from helpful.

"Hold on!" Twilight replied, charging her horn. Sparks of purple magic enveloped both her and Spike. The teleportation spell fired up just as the ponies behind them gave their all - but she couldn't cast it quickly enough. One of the flower ponies let out a wild shriek and threw a bouquet of flowers at Twilight's legs in an attempt to either trip her or bribe her (possibly both).

The flowers spun in the air, only inches away from hitting Twilight's hind legs mid run…

Only to be deflected at the last moment by a piece of hard candy, Sweetie Drops smirking as it did.

And they say candy is unhealthy.

From the side street, Lyra managed to arrive, trotting with a limp. Spring kept at her side - Bon Bon had to hide a smile at this. The filly had a blank expression despite the mob still gaining on Twilight, seemingly not worried in the slightest.

And neither was Bon Bon.

"WHAT, IN MY-ehm-CELESTIA'S NAME IS GOING ON?!"

The whole crowd halted, some mid-step or mid-flight. Twilight herself skidded across the cobblestone as she forgot how walking worked, her spell disappearing as she lost focus on it.

Sunny simply glared everypony down. Some ponies whimpered as her gaze fell upon them - overcome with the feeling that they had just disappointed their favorite teacher. Most of them began backpedaling while pretending that they would never do something like chasing somepony through town while trying to bribe them with a sack of carrots.

It wasn't working very well.

Sunny sighed, noticing the five mares remaining in the street - the element bearers - all pawing at the ground and avoiding eye contact like school fillies caught stealing from the cookie jar.

"So?" she asked them, trying to ignore Spring snickering at her for nearly blowing her cover. "Will anypony explain to me what is happening here?"

But was it Spike who answered, the young drake's face turning blue as he struggled to keep from laughing, eyes bulging out from his skull with heroic, but futile, effort.

"Tickets," he wheezed out.

Sunny gave the most reasonable response anypony in her position could.

She facehooved.

"Aargh! I can't decide!" Twilight suddenly screamed out while grasping the sides of her head. "I just can't decide! I wanted to make them all happy, but I can't, I just can't!"

The five mares hesitated until Applejack broke from their group and approached the panicking unicorn, others following just behind her.

"Twilight, sugar, I didn't mean to put so much pressure on you," Applejack said. "And if it helps any, I don't want the ticket anymore. You can give it to somepony else. I won't feel bad. Promise."

Twilight sniffed, giving her an appreciative smile.

Rainbow sighed, and helped Applejack get Twilight back on her hooves. The athlete slumped, ears dropping.

"Yeah, I haven't perfected my signature moves for the Wonderbolts anyway," Rainbow said with as much false bravado she could. "I don't need that ticket either."

"Me neither," Fluttershy said meekly while trying to hide behind Pinkie - struggling as her living cover did not stop moving. "I feel so terrible that I made you feel so terrible."

"And me neither, too!" piped up Pinkie, seemingly not noticing the yellow pegasus occupying her shadow. "It's no fun upsetting your friends!"

Rarity nodded where she stood by Twilight's side.

"Twilight, it was unfair of me to try to force you as I did," said Rarity. " We were all so focused on the gala we all failed to see how upset we were making you. I think I speak for everypony when I say that-"

"You do realize that all of you have tickets coming in through the mail, right?" Sunny interrupted flatly. The six mares immediately turned towards her. She continued, "Like every other guest? As it was done every year, for the last five centuries?"

"Wait, who are you?" asked Rainbow, flying right up to her face.

Twilight rushed to pull Rainbow away, darting between the pink pegasus and her friends. She also shot a dirty look at Spike who watched, claws grasped over his snout, producing noises that could be described as the cross between a faulty lawnmower and fatally sick chicken.

"That's Pri- Sunny," she stammered. "She works for the Princess." Spike still managed to hold it in in the background.

"That's right," Sunny said. "I work closely with the princess, and I know for a fact that all of you were invited to the gala. Twilight only got hers first because… well, she is her student."

Sunny paused for a beat, but Bon Bon's and Spring's eyes stayed glued to her as they felt a qualifier coming. "But, eh, mostly because she ran out of stamps."

Twilight gave a blank stare, with smoke steadily rising out of her ears and bloody murder in her eyes.

And with that, Spike finally gave in and burst out laughing.

Author's Note

Sorry for taking so long. I have been dealing with some personal troubles - which I fear may have influenced, if not the quality, then the tone of this chapter. Well, here we go anyway.

Chapter Sixteen: Sunny's Sun Set

Sweetie Drops took in a lungful of air.

There was just something inherently peaceful about an empty train station on a summer day.

'Empty' meaning empty aside from herself and Sunny, both of whom were currently sitting on a bench and enjoying the evening sun.

They had all gone to see Sunny off at the station, but when Lyra had seen that the train wouldn't be there for another forty minutes, she had offered to take Anon for ice cream while Bon Bon stayed behind and waited with Sunny.

Sunny sat leisurely on the bench, watching the sunset. She had done an especially good job with this one: the sky was smothered with red clouds and coloured in all shades of orange.

"You know, Twilight is going to be right miffed with you over the ticket thing," Sweetie Drops said after a few more minutes of silence.

"Hmmm," Sunny hummed, basking in the sunlight. "I'm probably going to have to send some new assignments for her."

Sweetie gave a nod. There was only one pony in all of Equestria who would accept more homework as an apology, and her name rhymed with Penlight Gargle.

"You know," Sweetie said slowly. "I don't think you ever told me how she found out."

Sunny scratched her chin, a content, happy look on her face.

With nopony around to listen in on them - Sweetie Drops made sure of it, and Sunny helped with a little silencing spell - they could talk freely now, face to face. A sadly rare occurrence for them in the last few years.

"I never did, did I? Silly me." Sunny laughed. "But it was really Spike who figured it out, though."

Sweetie Drops leaned back on the bench, hooves crossed behind her head. It truly was a glorious dawn. Playful. Sunny was definitely in a good mood today.

"Let me guess," Sweetie Drops said. "You forgot the horseshoes again."

Sunny groaned, face hoofing.

"You'll never let me live that down, will you? I was in a rush!" she stammered. "And it's not like it happened more than once!"

"Cadence," Sweetie Drops retorted with an evil smirk.

Sunny hid her face behind her wings, groaning some more.

"A new alicorn was found! I had a good reason to be a little out of it. Also, that was my tiara, that's entirely different!" She argued weakly, before sighing in defeat as Sweetie Drops laughed, and found she still fostered a ghost of a smile. "Anyway, Spike noticed something else was going on when I oversaw the proceedings concerning his adoption into the Light family."

Sunny looked up into the sky, avoiding eye contact for a moment, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Spike figured it out after-" Sunny blushed slightly, remembering the incident. "-well, there was this halfwit- ehm, I mean a noble, who… let's say loudly suggested that a dragon shouldn't be part of a pony family. And they did so in front of the little one in question."

Sweetie Drops gave her a knowing nod.

"Ah, I see," she said evenly. "Was the fire service required or did you manage to stop the flames from spreading that time?"

Sunny folded her wings on the chest, throwing her head back in mock offense.

"I resent this statement," she said. "I'll let you know I only slightly singed the baron. His stay at the hospital and subsequent facial reconstruction surgery was all blown out of proportion."

Sunny froze in her dramatic pose, one eye turning towards Sweetie Drops, winking.

"You… you're a terrible actor, mom. You know that?" Sweetie managed to say without much wheezing. "But I guess that's alright. I wouldn't have a job otherwise."

Sunny crossed her hooves, raising a brow at her daughter.

"Oh, like you never had your moments," she said, to which Sweetie Drops gave her a questioning look.

"Like what for example?" Sweetie Drops asked. "My records are pristine… mostly."

Sunny eye's sparked for a moment, almost smelling the opportunity.

"Didn't you recently send me a report detailing how you trailed Anon through Ponyville?" Sunny said innocently.

Sweetie Drops squirmed in her seat, the shark-like grin on Sunny's muzzle making her sweat.

"Yeah, and? Anon never saw me," she said nervously.

"You're her foster mother," Sunny deadpanned. "You can just go with her, nopony would find that suspicious in the least. The opposite, really."

There was a moment of silence between them, only punctuated by the crickets deciding to start their orchestra at that very second.

After several more seconds, Sweetie Drops managed, "…Ah."

Finally, she laughed.

"I guess it runs in the family, doesn't it?" Sweetie said.

"I suppose so," Sunny said happily, smiling back.

Sweetie Drops shot a quick glance at the clock tower. The train would be there so disappointingly soon. She briefly played with the idea of convincing Sunny to stay longer and fly to Canterlot later, but that ran the risk of somepony noticing that the Princess was missing. Sweetie Drops was sure Celestia prepared some terribly contrived cover story, but they shouldn't push it too far.

Not to mention the rain that was coming later, clouds already gathering above Sweet Apple Acres. The weather team still had a lot of rain to catch up on to be on schedule.

No, she and Sunny would have to wait before they could talk like this again, sadly.

"How is Luna doing?" she asked quickly.

Sunny shrunk, more somber - concerned.

"Luna is… adapting," Sunny said. As she spoke, she reached a wing around Sweetie's shoulder, pulling her closer as she shivered from the wind, the first signs of another storm the pegasi prepared for the night. "But it's a slow process. The staff at the castle certainly doesn't help. It took two weeks until the maids stopped screaming every time they saw her. One would think that after Spike living in the castle, they would get used to some fangs on an alicorn a little faster.”

“Well, that’s hardly Luna’s fault.,” Sweetie Drops said.

“True,” Sunny nodded. “But try convince Luna that that's the case.”

Sunny sighed, and Sweetie Drops shuffled even closer until they were shoulder to shoulder. They could hear the train in the distance now.

"Still, despite that setback, Luna is doing much better now," Sunny said, sounding more than a little proud. "She's even laughing again."

"That's good," Sweetie said.
Sunny nodded once glanced at the sky, lost in some far-off memory as the train trudged towards the station lazily.

"Yes, that's… that's very good."

Together they sat for the last few minutes, letting the seconds tick by.

Sunny closed her eyes, relaxing, but Sweetie Drops couldn't do the same. She gulped. Not really knowing how to breach the next subject, she looked around once more just to be sure that nopony was listening in.

"We have to tell Anon the truth," she said finally.

Sunny sighed, stretching and picking up the clipboard as she prepared to get up and board the train rolling into the station. The noise of the locomotive was a good mask for their conversation.

"We can't. Not right now," Sunny replied softly, eyes darting to the side.

Sweetie Drops' brows furrowed as she scowled.

"It's her home," she stated coldly. "Anon deserves to know."

Celestia nodded. Sweetie could see it: How the disguised alicorn withdrew into herself- put a distance between her emotions and the choice laid in front of her.

"She does," Celestia agreed hesitantly. "And she will, just… not now. If we tell her now, it will destroy her."

Sweetie Drops gave a glance at the train, nearing the Ponyville's station stop.

"It's not fair." Bon Bon said.

"I know." Celestia whispered. “But it's necessary."

And with a quick hug, Sunny departed, leaving Bon Bon standing there with nothing but her thoughts.

"Are you sure that they'll be alright?"

Anon took another glance at what was possibly the strangest mob she had ever seen. From where she was sitting in the Ponyville cafe, it almost looked like a party. Except with attempted bribery instead of any partying.

Lyra shrugged, using her magic to pull out a chair for Anon. The cafe was empty; most of the town was currently busy chasing the element bearers for the gala tickets, leaving the place practically to themselves.

"Nah, they'll be okay. Stuff like this just happens sometimes in Ponyville," Lyra said, pointing at the chair. Anon sighed and reluctantly hopped onto it. "But Sunny probably shouldn't have said out loud that all of them have a ticket to the gala. Would have avoided a repeat of the whole mess."

I think that was intentional, actually.

Outside, she saw a multicolored blur whizz by - Rainbow Dash undoubtedly - followed quickly by about half of Ponyville's weather team. She also saw a brief glimpse of Pinkie Pie, who narrowly avoided getting tackled by a swarm of ponies by throwing a condensed ball of party supplies under herself and then disappearing in a cloud of confetti and streamers.

"You, eh, don't sound very interested in the gala. Or any of this, really," Anon pointed out.

Lyra blanched for a second, sticking her tongue out.

"Ugh, don't even remind me," she said wearily. "I took an offer to play at the gala once. Worst. Night. Ever. Of all time."

Their table shook slightly as the mob of ponies outside moved, following the five mares running off into the distance. The spectral banjos were now following suit, playing what Anon could have sworn was the Benny Hill theme.

Before Lyra could say more, the still incredibly posh waiter brought the order in.

Order. Singular.

And that was a problem.

Anon's eyes twitched and brow furrowed as she stared at her sundae - while Lyra simply sat there, her smile slowly morphing into confusion as she witnessed an intense internal battle within the filly.

"You didn't order anything," Anon said slowly. Lyra flinched a little. The filly sounded so genuinely betrayed; she had to do a double take. Never before had she seen somepony look so hurt from getting ice-cream.

"No, I just didn't want to waste-"

Lyra immediately stopped talking - the stare Anon gave her almost made her shudder.

Without uttering a word, the filly reached into her mane and pulled out-

A spoon? Lyra thought. Why does she carry a spoon?

Anon took the True Spork in its spoon form and buried it into the sundae, on the opposite side of the spoon already in it.

With a flare of her green magic, the ice cream was slowly pushed into the middle of the table. Anon refused to break eye contact with Lyra as the treat was nudged into the gray zone between the two sides waging a war of wills.

"You don't have to, I-" Lyra tried, but the filly interrupted her.

"I want to," Anon said, and Lyra was surprised by the sheer intensity in her voice. "It isn't right otherwise."

Either she has really strong opinions about ice cream, Lyra wondered, Or it isn't about the ice cream at all.

"Well, that's very… ice of you," Lyra said with a smirk.

Anon gave her a deadpan stare, but her cheeks puffed and turned red, and air escaped through her nostrils as she fought on.

Lyra beamed as Anon burst into uncontrollable guffaws. It made her feel warm and snug inside, seeing the filly laugh. Every time she managed to make the filly even smile was a victory in her book.

"But I could just buy another sundae," she finished, and the filly looked at her astounded as she processed the information. "You don't have to share yours."

"Oh, right. You can do that," Anon said sheepishly, retrieving the spork. "Sorry."

Anon finally dug in into the sundae, not paying much attention to the face Lyra made.

It was heavenly - just as she expected.

Anything with sugar in it had become like ambrosia since her transformation. It must have been something about the pony body that made sugar feel so damn good.

Wolfing down her ice cream in one go was, in Anon's mind, entirely necessary considering she had almost let it melt.

"Slow down, you'll get a brain freeze."

Anon gulped, the last piece of the sundae vanishing, leaving behind a pristine glass.

"What?" she asked, to which Lyra waved a hoof.

"Eh, nevermind." She levitated a napkin towards the filly, intending to clean a small bit of chocolate-based debris from Anon's cheek. "Foals and sugar I suppose. It's good for you, but-"

Anon raised a brow.

"Sugar is good for me?" she said, dodging the napkin.

"Hmm," Lyra hummed. "Sugar gives short bursts of energy. That's really good for developing mana pathways. Especially for young unicorns."

Anon sat there, a dumbfounded look on her face - barely noticing Lyra's cleaning efforts as the new information made its way into her brain.

"... Sugar makes me more magical?" Anon asked.

"Kinda?" Lyra waggled her hoof in the air. "It's more that it makes your natural magic more efficient."

Sugar is good for me here…

Anon shrugged.

Welp, that's it. I found it:

Heaven.

"Wait," Anon said, realization dawning on her. "Is that why Pinkie is…well, the way she is? Because of all the sugar?"

Lyra shook her head, dashing any of Anon's hope at finally understanding the conundrum that was the Pink One.

"Nope," Lyra said nonchalantly. "It doesn't work like that."

So that's that theory in the trash.

Anon sighed. It shouldn't bother her that much; she had seen stuff just as strange, if not even stranger. The Pink One wasn't even that powerful, and yet…

Maybe it's for the best, the jumper decided. Some mysteries are better left unanswered.

"You have a pretty necklace," Lyra suddenly pointed out.

The polished metal felt surprisingly warm against her neck. Anon had almost forgotten she had it on in the first place, as it didn't weigh nearly as much as it should have, considering its size.

"Thanks," she replied, one hoof subconsciously touching the chain. "Sunny brought it from Canterlot. The princess said it was okay for me to have it back now."

Anon avoided Lyra's gaze. She disliked lying to Lyra, but she disliked the consequences of not lying even more.

"Can… Can I ask where you got it?" Lyra asked, biting on her lip.

The minty mare was torn between her curiosity and not wanting to cause Spring any more distress.

Both the gem and the chain were enchanted somehow. She'd thought little of the orange gem at first; it wasn't hard to find a precious stone that size if one knew where to look.

But then it healed Bon Bon and Spring in the castle.

"It was a gift." Anon replied, staring at the floor. Now the Sun Orb suddenly became heavy, pulling her head down with its immense weight. Or maybe that was just in her head. "From a friend… She was- she is…"

Just say it.

"She isn't around right now."

Coward.

Acknowledging it felt like treachery because while Daybreaker was gone, Anon wasn't so sure she was dead. Even if she only knew her for a short time, she was a friend. And she wasn't about to give up on a friend if there was still a chance, no matter how small.

Not again.

When Anon looked up, Lyra was there by her side - she had somehow managed to get up and walk around the table without her noticing.

The jumper wanted to chastise herself for such a lack of spatial awareness but such thoughts quickly vanished.

"Do you want a hug?" the minty mare asked hesitantly.

It was childish, stupid. Hugs were impractical and restricting, downright dangerous even.

"Yes," Anon said.

There was a ring as the doors to the cafe opened. In slipped Bon Bon, immediately closing the doors behind her.

"Sorry I'm late. I got caught up in the-"

The agent's heart melted in a way similar to that of the ice cream left unattended on the table.

There was Spring, holding onto Lyra. The filly looked so small there. Frail, almost, as Lyra held her close.

It was cute. It was nice seeing the filly trusting Lyra enough to do that.

And it was all built on a lie.

Lyra, not turning towards her, simply gestured at Bon Bon to come closer.

Outside the cafe, ponies ran around, still chasing the five mares. The ticket madness only finally ended after a brave last stand at Sweet Apple acres. A train was slowly chugging its way up Mt. Canterhorn towards the gilded city on its crest. And an agent questioned her mission.

All in all, it was a normal day in the not-so-normal town of Ponyville.

Anon turned her head to the side, trying her best to avoid looking over her left shoulder.

There are many words that a pony could use to describe the Ponyville doctor's office. Anon could come up with hundreds of them off the top of her head.

Most of them vulgar.

Finally, Dr. Horse pulled the needle out. The filly could relax a little as the pointy object was removed from her shoulder.

"Aaand done!" With a smile, the doctor placed a band-aid on the spot he had so mercilessly stabbed to draw blood.

Sighing with relief, Anon hopped off the exam table, landing on the blue linoleum with a soft thud of her hooves.

"Was that really necessary?" she grumbled, rubbing her miniscule stab wound. "You checked me after it happened. I'm fine."

It was the day after Sunny's brief visit, and Anon had found herself at the doctor's mercy once again. This was quickly becoming a rather bad habit of hers; the novelty of professional medical care was wearing out fast since she had to get a checkup two times a week.

Bon Bon put down her newspaper, shooting a few wary glances at the doctor and the nurse, who were salivating at the box of sweets on the seat next to her.

"The Nightmare hurt you badly, Spring," she said. "The doctor is just making sure you'll heal properly."

Doctor Horse lifted his eyes away from the box, nodding. He poured a little of the blood into a machine best described as the lovechild of an Edwardian era boiler and an analog computer.

"Healing magic is very finicky," the doctor explained. "Even masters at it, like the Princess, are not flawless."

With a ping, the machine spat out several sheets of paper. The doctor's brow furrowed as he looked them over.

"Well, the scan's a little fuzzy…" The doctor shrugged. "Must be the remnants of the spell interfering with our readings."

Bon Bon tilted her head, muzzle scrunched up.

That's… not normal.

Healing magic was powerful - as in it required immense reserves of magical power to even attempt - but it didn't leave a trace like normal magic. That was the whole point: boosting the recipient's natural mana and using that to vastly accelerate healing. It didn't leave behind a foreign magical signature, because if it worked, it would just become part of the recipient's mana.

The wound had healed, so that magic should have been absorbed.

So what's blocking the scan?

Sadly for her, Sweetie Drops wasn't an expert in the arcane arts. Sure, she knew more than your average pony, but this was far out of her own knowledge.

Think logically, draw possible conclusions from available information. Analyze.

The machine used the natural magic of a pony - said magic always held a shape, and when malformed, it tried to return to said shape. But that shape was missing from Anon; the magical scan was blind to her.

Except if that was the case, there wouldn't be a scan at all.

So Anon's magic had to know the general shape of her body - the scan was evidence of that - but something else was influencing it.

The necklace?

That was… a real possibility. The enchantment on the necklace could interfere with the scan, theoretically.

The issue with that idea was that the enchantment had to be activated first. Meaning that either Anon was constantly under a barrage of attacks on her mind, or…

Sweetie Drops shot a look at the orb, settled in the necklace. The crystalline, polished surface faintly sparkled with inner light.

Or there is another spell on Anon right now.

"Otherwise, there isn't anything new on the scan. The fracture is still healing nicely," the doctor said, and Lyra let out a relieved sigh.

With a sudden look of sadness, the doctor turned towards Lyra.

"As for you…well…"

Anon felt herself flinch. Throat dry.

But then she noticed a few things. How the doctor's lips were tugging upwards - barely concealing a smile. How Bon Bon rolled her eyes.

And how Lyra herself was grinning.

"So doc, how much time do I have?" she asked casually, Bon Bon only sighing in reply.

"I say about ten," the doctor said confidently, there was a visible effort not to smile and appear stoic on his part. Lyra rose a brow.

"Ten?" she asked. "Ten what?"

"Nine, eight…"

Lyra burst into giggles, just as doctor Horse did the same.

Meanwhile Anon became more interested in the scans.

It was kinda weird, seeing her insides and skeleton like that. Well, she had seen parts of her insides before, under much less pleasant circumstances, but it still was a strange experience witnessing just how different from a human she was on the inside.

Not that different, apparently. But it was freaky to discover an extra set of teeth in her skull - waiting to replace the milk teeth she still had.

And then there was Lyra's scan. Most of it looked normal, if very grainy, but there was one part that got her attention.

I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure that spines aren't supposed to look like that.

It was the lower back - the vertebrae were misaligned, and some were fused together.

"Wait, aren't Lyra's scans also fuzzy?" Anon asked.

Doctor Horse gave her a shrug.

"Perceptive, aren't you? Miss Heartstrings' scans always were a little… special," he explained. "Our best guess is that it's due to the magical nature of the medication."

Lyra laughed, playfully ruffling Anon's mess of a mane.

"Looks like we're both mysteries to modern medical science, Springy."

Anon blushed. A warm, tingly feeling spread in her chest. Not an alien, unfamiliar feeling, simply one Anon doubted she would ever feel again.

She tried to push Lyra away, but her heart wasn't in it.

"Okay, what's next?"

Lyra gave her a bright smile.

"School!"

Author's Note

And here we go.

I'm still very much behind the schedule for writing - sorry for that - but things are picking back up. Took me some time, I know. Things weren't…great lately, but hey, that’s life for you.

Again, big thanks toPseudoBob Delightus and Discombobulated Soul for helping. Wouldn't be the same - read much worse - without them.

Chapter Seventeen: Several Scholastic Shenanigans

It was a lazy morning.

Not in the classical sense of a long, languid sunrise slowly climbing up over the horizon, with nature waking from its slumber and rubbing its sleepy eyes.

No, this was lazy in another sense. The sun rose so fast that the flowers less bloomed and more boomed, sending loose petals flying. Confused roosters scrambled out from their coops to find they'd missed their cue, several ponies went temporarily blind as the huge ball of plasma in the sky suddenly sent beams of light through their bedroom windows, and a very disoriented owl went head first into a tree.

Anon could only guess what was happening, but she would bet that a certain sun-commanding princess wasn't having a good morning.

She is probably looking for stamps…

The filly stopped staring out the window and picked up her pen again, writing some more into her journal. The ink stained the yellowed paper.

Today, I'm officially starting school here in Ponyville.

This is a bad thing and a great cause of concern.

Anon didn't hate school.

From Anon's few hazy memories of it, she actually used to rather enjoy school, so much so that she studied in her own free time. Mostly for the opportunity for… something she couldn't quite remember, but some subjects she used to genuinely love. It paid off in the end - her knowledge of high school chemistry alone had saved her hide more than once.

So no, hating school wasn't the reason she was currently sweating bullets and internally debating the pros and cons of throwing herself out of the window.

The score so far was 3 to 5 in favor of self-defenestration.

I'm going to have to introduce myself in front of the whole class.

That was a problem, and while she was used to having to face quite large problems, most of them were hungry and possessed impractical numbers of teeth. Those problems could be solved with liberal use of explosives, stabbing with the True Spork, or just running.

Anon sadly came to the conclusion that none of those solutions would work for school.

Mostly because of her current lack of explosives.

Shouldn't have used all my thermite at once. And I used my poor can for char cloth already, so I have no more aluminum for another batch…

~~I never~~ I don't think I've ever given a good first impression in my life and I have a strong feeling this won't be any different.

But hey, what's the worst thing that can happen? It's just some kids. It can't be that hard, right?

I'm going to die horribly, aren't I?

End of entry. Day 1153ish. Signing out and see you soon.

"Springy! It's almost time!"

There was knocking on the door as Anon scrambled to gather some power together and push the diary into the floor.

This was it. She had already had breakfast, done her morning routine, and watched the sun rise in its strange way. Bon Bon had even packed her lunch before going off to work. There was no delaying it.

She was going back to school.

"Come in!" she called out, just as she managed to hide the book, and a wisp of green magic pulled down the handle.

In entered a decidedly excited Lyra, the minty mare dancing on the tips of her hooves, practically bursting with eagerness.

Anon did not share in her enthusiasm.

"Are you prepared, Spring?" Lyra chirped.

The filly wilted, pawing at the floor nervously.

"As much as I can be," Anon said evenly, avoiding eye contact. She did her best to hide just how tight her throat was, or how fast her heart was beating. And for once, she thought she had done a pretty good job at stopping her emotions from seeping into her voice.

Lyra kneeled - the motion slow and stiff - next to her.

But not enough to hide them from Lyra.

"Listen Spring, you're gonna do great," Lyra said confidently. "You're clever and smart and the ponies there are really nice."

Anon still didn't look up. What was she supposed to say to that? Ponies being nice to her was the issue in the first place. She wasn't used to that. It wasn't normal.

Lyra frowned, pursing her lips deep in thoughts before an idea sparked.

"Spring, you didn't brush?" Lyra said. The filly raised a brow. She was fairly sure she did brush; she could still taste the toothpaste in her mouth. "Your mane is a mess."

"Oh," the filly realized, running a hoof through the crow's nest on her head, briefly getting it stuck before she managed to pull it out with relatively small effort and only minor loss of hair. And dignity. "Yeah, it kinda does what it wants to."

Lyra giggled, focusing her magic into her horn as a hair brush came floating from the bathroom.

The minty mare briefly halted, taking a look at the brush, then back at the filly. Anon gave her a confused stare for a few seconds before she realized what Lyra wanted and gave her a nod.

Being brushed by someone else was… strange to Anon. Not bad - the sensation itself was very pleasant - but having someone stand right behind her while she had no idea what they were doing should have made her shiver. Yet it didn't.

There was no gut feeling, no ever-wary voice, even though it should have been screaming in alarm. The instinct that had kept her alive so many times, warning her of incoming attacks and hidden dangers she had no right knowing were there, was silent now.

And it was maddening.

Great, not being anxious is making me anxious now. That's new and terrible.

Lyra moved the brush through her mane, gently untangling the comb-consuming abyss of Anon's mane with practice and precision.

But maybe it's going to be alright.

Lyra stopped to observe her creation, much to the green filly's grumbling displeasure.

Despite Lyra's best effort, the mane was the same messy lump of jutting stands of mane it was before, but she wasn't too upset about that, because she mainly wanted to make Spring feel a bit better.

And definitely not because she'd somehow lost the brush in the filly's mane.

"Now, are you ready for school?"

Anon paused, taking in a deep breath.

She was a jumper. She'd faced dangers numerous and terrible, be they demons, monsters, or dimension-spanning empires, and she had always survived in the end.

What was an elementaryschool compared to all that?

"Yeah," Anon said confidently. "I'm ready."

I'm not ready.

The Ponyville's schoolhouse wasn't much to look at, even though it was one of the oldest buildings in the town, surviving disaster after disaster - much to the local student body's chagrin. The old, wooden structure had probably witnessed more hard-fought battles than the most hardened and tried fortress. (Mostly battles against algebra, but this was Ponyville so some literal battles weren't out of the equation.)

Anon gulped. The jumper stood at the precipice of doom, hesitation engulfing her every
thought.

I'm definitely not ready.

Twelve or so pairs of eyes all focused on her. The small classroom was almost full, and murmuring chatter attacked her from all sides. The saddlebags on her back suddenly felt like somebody had switched their contents for bricks.

Gold bricks. With some anvils on top.

Anon shuddered. A surprisingly large part of her wanted to run, try to catch up to Lyra, and hold onto her until she stopped shaking.

"Hey! It's you! Spring Break, right?"

But that moment was over fast. The saddlebags' content turned back into her textbook and packed lunch. Her expression became the usual, blank mask of faint disinterest.

She was in control, she was safe - for now - and she recognized the filly speaking at her.

Diamond Tiara gave a curious look to the green filly.

"Your name is Spring, right?" She paused before adding, "Daddy always tells me you need a good head for names in business."

Anon nodded slowly, looking around the classroom. Now that she was in it, she realized most ponies here weren't paying attention to her, content to just mingle with their friends instead.

Thank God children here have the same attention span here they do back on Earth:

Absolutely none‌ whatsoever.

"Yeah, that's me," Anon said, earning another strange look.

Diamond Tiara was smirking. It was the predatory, calculating smirk of someone with a brilliant plan.

It made Anon feel very uneasy.

She looked around her again.

The foals around them weren't ignoring them.

They were pretending to ignore them.

"I get that you're still new here," Diamond said, the smile on her muzzle just a little too wide for Anon's liking. "But stick with me and Silver and it's going to be all good. Right, pal?"

Anon stared blankly at Diamond Tiara's outstretched hoof before she shrugged and took it.

She's like ten years old, there's nothing to worry about.

So why do I feel like I'm joining the mafia?

Diamond Tiara motioned her to a desk - a free one in front of hers ‌and Silver Spoon's.

Strangely, the only freethe desk in the room.

Did… did she plan it?

Unfortunately, before she had more time to ponder this curiosity, the school bell began to ring and Anon had to rush to her new, ominous seat.

The teacher - a purplish earth pony mare with a curly pink mane - stood up from behind her desk.

"Good morning," she said, eyes briefly stopping on Anon.

"Good morning Miss Cheerilee," chorused the class.

Cheerilee smiled, sending a quick glance at the attendance list.

The name 'Spring Break' was there, circled in red a few times, with a lot of notes attached to it.

She had been told - and warned - in advance about the presence of a filly from the foster care program. She still had the file that a visiting social worker had provided for her. Everything in it painted a sad story for the green filly's past.

This brought in a dilemma. She thought about talking to her students, telling them to be nice and careful around the new filly.

Of course, no matter how pure the intention, that was very likely to backfire spectacularly. Either it would make Spring feel infantilized and isolated, unable to make any real friends, or the other students would start to resent her for what they perceived as special treatment. Or both, most likely. Forcing foals to make friends - or do anything in general - tended to end with mixed results, and this situation was especially delicate.

Considering that the main reason for Spring attending school was to socialize with other foals her age, doing anything that could possibly hamper that would be counterproductive.

Spring was meant to have as normal schooling experience as possible and singling her out on the very first day would go against that.

Unfortunately, the normal schooling experience meant singling her out on the very first day by calling her to the front to introduce herself.

Cheerilee didn't like it, but it was what she always did when a new student came to her class.

However, doing this did have its benefits - while Spring would likely be uncomfortable being put into the spotlight, she would at least be able to answer some questions and curb some of the excessive curiosity some of her new classmates might have. And if things went on a wrong turn, Cheerilee would be there to step in.

"So, today we have a new student joining us," Cheerilee said. "Would you like to introduce yourself?"

Anon rose from her seat, beads of sweat settling on her brow.

Okay, stay calm. You're prepared for this. Just say your name. Nothing hard about that.

"Eh, hello, my name is Ano-Spring… Spring Break! Yes… that's definitely the name I have. Yup, no other names here…" She trailed off, faking a cough to fill the silence.

God.
Damnit.

She facehoofed before she continued again. It was nice and well that Celestia had provided her with a fake name and identiy and all, but couldn't she have come up with something easier to remember?

"So, I, eh, started to live in Ponyville some time ago."

Over a month now.

It didn't even seem that long. Okay, she had spent the majority of it preparing an ambush for an angry goddess of the night hellbent on bringing the apocalypse, so she had been pretty busy. Even then, this was by far the longest she had stayed in one world, but it didn't feel that way. It had all just passed too quickly.

"And it's… good," Anon paused. "S'good here…"

She trailed off. It was still hard to believe she had stumbled on a place like this. Out of all the places to get stuck in, this was probably the worst. If everyone would just be hostile to her like usual, it would make things so much simpler. She knew how to withstand hostility, but this?

It was so tempting to just stop fighting, to accept this world at face value, and forget. To finally let go of the person she used to be.

But she couldn't. Her sister was waiting for her. Giving up wasn't an option.

"Welp, that's about it. Any questions?"

A forest of tiny hooves shot up into the air the moment Anon asked. A pinkish-gray unicorn filly with a blonde mane stared at her with those unnaturally big eyes.

"You…?" Anon said tentatively.

"Dinky!" the unbearably cute little unicorn said. "Did you really fight off a pack of timberwolves alone?"

Anon shook her head.

Technically yes, she did fight off the pack by sending them to Brazil or wherever that hole in the ground led. (By the sounds that came from it, probably to a nest of giant ravenous woodpeckers.)

But saying that would probably only draw more attention - and she had enough as it was - so she kept it to herself.

"Nope, I ran away. Well, I tried, anyway." Anon said."Got myself stabbed by a falling tree."

That would be an embarrassing way to die.

"I remember that!" That was… Apple Bloom? Anon vaguely remembered her from the brief time they had visited the farm. "My sister had to clean the cart afterwards 'cause of all the blood!"

Anon tilted her head. She did not know how to feel about the apparently infectious enthusiasm with which Apple Bloom talked about grave bodily harm.

Poor Cheerilee attempted to interject, seeing the conversation take a grisly turn, but she had sadly underestimated the speed with which under-stimulated children latched onto any topic more interesting than class work - which was quite a low bar.

"Oh oh!" a foal with a lisp called out. "Do you have a thcar?"

Cheerilee opened her mouth to jump into the conversation and hopefully salvage it, but Anon interrupted her, pointing at a circular scar on her shoulder.

"Yeah, I think that's the one?" she said hesitantly. "No, wait. That's where I got shot." She ruffled the fur on her forelegs, until she found another circular scar, ignoring a few others. "It's this one… probably. Kinda lost track of them after a while."

The horrified expression on Cheerilee's face was promptly ignored by the rest of the class as the foals stared in awe - to Anon's unending confusion.

To them, scars were cool, something action heroes and dastardly villains had in comics books and adventure novels. A dastardly villain's scars made them look angry and menacing, while the hero's scars made them look rugged and experienced - yet there was a serious cool factor in both cases.

To Anon, it was a very surreal experience, which meant a lot coming from a jumper who regularly broke the very fabric of reality just to hide her diary.

"Did Nightmare Moon do the rest when she foalnapped you?" asked Apple Bloom. "Was it 'cause you kicked one of her shadow thingies?"

How did she know about that?

Anon had to suppress the urge to facehoof.

The chariot flight back from the Everfree after Nightmare Moon was dealt with. It wasn't exactly subtle - large flying objects made mainly out of gold rarely are - so of course it got people talking. And Diamond Tiara, or at least her father, wasn't exactly silent about the fight with the shadow monster, either.

"Some of it, yeah," Anon sighed. "And I didn't really-"

What followed was a torrent of different questions, firing one after another. Cheerilee, who by this point had lost all control of the situation, watched in the same helpless fascination with which one watches a train crash into an orphanage for puppies.

"Was she scary?" piped out a lanky, brown colt in the back, and more followed.

"Did she try to eat you?" "Did she really have a mane made out of stars?" "Did she try to invade your mind, turn you into a mindless zombie, and then invade Equestria with an army of flesh puppets?"

Anon took a step back, overwhelmed.

But she was a jumper. She would not be defeated so easily!

"Eh, yes, she was scary," Anon said. "No, she didn't try to eat me… I think." She turned at the lanky colt. "And yup, she did have a mane made out of stars, or at least it looked that way. What was that last question?"

"What's it like being an orphan?"

The classroom fell silent just for a moment. This sort of silence was normally filled with crickets, but those were sadly unavailable at the time, arriving late because of the morning commute.

Cheerilee took a sharp intake of breath, wincing. The other foals turned on Snails, each with a different reaction. Apple Bloom turned red and fuming. Diamond Tiara shot him a dirty look.

But Anon simply shrugged. Questions like that didn't bother her, not anymore.

She'd had a lifetime of practice, after all. And at least this one didn't sound malicious, but genuinely curious, if a tad insensitive.

"Well, you know how you have parents?" Anon asked casually.

"Eh, yeah?" Snails answered awkwardly, increasingly conscious of the stares boring into the back of his skull.

"Well, now imagine you don't." Anon said. "Basically that."

The reaction from Cheerilee was priceless. Anon couldn't have guessed that a muzzle had the range of motion to express such a wide array of emotions - Cheerilee looked like she was about to scream, faint, and bash her head on the desk all at once.

"But she has two moms," argued Silver Spoon. "I saw her with them."

"Oh! What is it like having two moms?" Dinky asked. "I only have the one, but she's the best!"

Anon froze, mind suddenly blank.

My two whats?

It had registered to her that, on some level, yes, Lyra and Bon Bon were her foster mothers. But what that meant never really sunk in.

She couldn't remember her real parents. That was okay, she remembered not remembering them very well long before she started jumping. Not being able to remember them at all now was to be expected.

They're not gone, they're just… not around right now.

Cheerilee cleared her throat, calming the foals down.

"I think that was enough questions," she said, "Thank you Spring… You can sit back down, please."

Anon blinked twice, realizing she was still up, before she gave a sheepish smile and sat down on the wooden seat.

"Now," Cheerilee started writing something on the board. "Please open your textbooks on page forty one…"

Anon didn't pay much attention in the class.

Learning about the different worlds she had visited was intriguing maybe the first dozen times, but it quickly lost its luster. The rules never stayed the same, so any effort put into really understanding things in one world would just turn out to be a waste in the next. Magic was entirely new, though, and did seem interesting at first, but having to relearn it all over again every time soured Anon on the idea. The only thing she got any good at was picking up on the basics, which were mostly iterations of a few different, but similar enough, ideas.

History was doubly irrelevant. Why learn about a place that she was going to leave in a fortnight? Same with most natural sciences. There were similarities between worlds, but nothing guaranteed, so why put so much effort in for so little gain?

It also didn't help that she couldn't read Equestrian yet.

Bit of an oversight, really.

So she did the first thing that came to mind - using said mind to levitate small objects.

She spun a quill with her magic, while resting her head on her hoof, utterly bored. Sneaky, dangerous questions slowly invaded her thoughts.

What now?

Lyra and Bon Bon - her supposed foster parents.

The fact that Celestia was Bon Bon's adoptive mother was a shock at first, but it made a staggering amount of sense later.

Of course Celestia would adopt someone who can make cake.

It also explained why Celestia was so fast to choose Bon Bon to be Anon's foster parent. She had close knowledge of Bon Bon's character beforehand - or beforehoof, she supposed. And if she one day simply jumped world, well, Celestia could always just explain the whole dimension hopper thing, if she hadn't done so already.

And here laid the issue for Anon.

Does… does Bon Bon know?

Anon hadn't put much thought into it before, but would Celestia tell Bon Bon the truth? Her head told her no, but her gut told her yes, and her gut rarely betrayed her. But if they knew, why would they come to comfort her and hug her when she was scared? Why would they go through all that trouble just to make her feel nice? Why then play the whole pretend family bit?

Or was it even pretend?

Even Celestia wanted a deal first: 'Protect the Element Bearers'. And Anon was okay with that arrangement. It was a good deal. Hell, it would be a lot more off-putting if Celestia wanted nothing in return for, well, generally letting her live. That was just how the worlds worked.

She spun the quill a little faster, the green glow around it intensifying. Turning on its axis faster and faster.

Where does that leave me?

She couldn't jump, so she was stuck for now. For how long, Anon didn't know. Staying in one place was a terrifying prospect. Almost as much as the idea that the feelings her foster parents held towards her may be genuine.

She thought she was playing them, taking advantage of them by pretending. The identity of Spring Break served as a convenient shield.

They didn't like her, they liked Spring, and Spring didn't exist! So they didn't actually like her, end of story!

But that fell apart if they knew. Her convenient excuse would be gone and she would have to accept that there was maybe someone in all the worlds who saw her as theirs. Someone who was nice and good to her for the sake of it, someone who wanted her to feel at home.

But Anon couldn't accept that. They didn't know - they couldn't know.

The quill spun faster and only now did Anon realize the multiple pairs of eyes watching her.

A snow white foal with a curly mane stared at the quill, bright eyes sparkling.

Anon raised a brow, and moved the quill from side to side. The snow white filly's eyes followed it, as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

Am I doing something wrong? It's just levitation.

"How are you so good at this?" the foal asked, bewildered. "I've been trying for months and I still can't lift a stupid feather!"

Anon simply shrugged. To her, it was nothing more than imagining the feeling of picking the quill up with a hand, but saying she was using an imaginary limb she used to have probably wasn't a good explanation

"Ahem."

Cheerilee cleared her throat, and the white filly seized up, eyes wide - Anon guessed she wasn't one to break the rules often.

"Sweetie Belle, please do not disturb the class."

The now-identified Sweetie Bell wilted slightly.

"Sorry Miss Cheerilee," she apologized.

"It's alright," Cheerilee said. "But please raise your hoof first if you want to speak. Now, after the reunification the- yes, Sweetie Belle?"

Sweetie Bell pulled her hoof down, only to point it at Anon, the quill still levitating above the table, and the bored jumper fidgeted in place as the attention was once again shifted to her.

"How does Spring do that?" Sweetie Belle asked.

Cheerilee glanced at Anon, who quickly dispelled the levitation, causing the spinning quill to evacuate the building through an open window - hitting a passing owl - all the while Anon gave the teacher her most innocent, if somewhat strained, smile.

Cheerilee, who was gracious enough to ignore the distant yelp of pain and what had to be some juicy swear words in owl-tongue, resisted the urge to sigh.

"I understand young unicorns want to practice their magic whenever possible," she said slowly. "But please refrain from doing so when in class. Proper adult supervision is important when magic is involved."

Anon nodded once, avoiding eye contact, suddenly finding the surface of her desk to be the most interesting and fascinating thing in the room.

"Ehm, yeah, sure," she said nervously.

Cheerilee cocked her head, her teacher's intuition basically screaming at her that there was something she had missed.

Like the paper on the green filly's desk.

Paper covered in writing - a strange, definitely non-Equestrian writing.

The file Cheerilee got was vague in places, but it was clear on one thing: Spring was from a place very far away.

A place where they may not use Equestrian script.

"Spring, you can't-" Cheerilee began but stopped herself.

If her suspicion was true and Spring couldn't read Equestrian, bringing attention to that in front of the whole class would be extraordinarily humiliating. No, this was a delicate matter.

Cheerilee couldn't let a student of hers down. This simply couldn't stand. But she was too busy to tutor a student after school. She would have to find somepony else to help. Spring's foster parents would have to offer support of course, but a more professional tutor would be ideal.

Of course, good tutors weren't just lazing around in every small town, waiting to be picked off a shelf like expired cans of beans. Teaching somepony how to read, quickly, was much harder than it looked. She needed somepony with experience. Somepony who had taught a little one before and had a passion for the subject, maybe even somepony who could help with Springs' apparent knack for magic.

And she already had in mind the pony for the job.

After all, a new librarian had just come to town. And what sort of librarian would allow a pony to be unable to read?

Chapter Eighteen: Tentative Therapeutic Tensions

The recess was so far going exactly as expected:

Terribly.

Anon sat on her haunches, staring at her two new classmates with blank-faced confusion.

She had at first welcomed the change from being bored in class to being bored on the playground. It was a refreshing shift of scenery, at least. Despite Cheerilee's best attempts, Anon paid little attention to the rest of the lesson, content to just wait it out while trying not to think about anything in particular.

But after the school bell rang out, freeing students for the blessed period known as recess, Anon realized she'd made a small miscalculation:

Other ponies wanted to talk to her.

"So?" Diamond Tiara asked. "What do you want to do?"

Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara had approached her almost immediately. And it wasn't only them; she could still feel the attention of the other foals on her back.

It wasn't like the idea of being popular in school was unimaginable - she'd grown up with free access to a supply of unsold pastries, basically allowing her to bribe everybody around her into at least begrudging tolerance. Now that Anon thought about it, she was quite confident she could replicate that effect now if she really wanted to.

But this was different. Not only did she not need to bribe anyone with sweets - at least not yet - but there was a lot more fascination and quiet whispering around her than the old "she has cake for lunch" warranted.

The foals here found the rumors surrounding her and her mysterious arrival… "cool". It made her interesting. This in turn made for more rumors, which made her seen even cooler, and thus more interesting. It was a vicious cycle, and she was right in the middle of it.

That was pretty bad. Not only did it risk blowing her cover, but it also left a foul taste in her mouth. It didn't sit right with Anon that there were people, much less children, perceiving anything about her as interesting. Silver Spoon had looked at her with something approaching admiration, even, as she walked towards her. Well, at least until Diamond shot her a pointed look.

Anon raised a brow at that.

Diamond Tiara… she was different. The calculating, scheming look on her face - she was definitely planning something. Anon just couldn't tell what.

Yet Anon smiled to herself. As absurd as it sounded, it was almost comforting to have someone scheme against her. At least something in this place was familiarnormal.

"We could go on the swings!" Silver Spoon offered.

Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes.

"We always go on the swings. They are so boooring," Diamond paused. "And also kind of broken."

Anon's brow quirked up as she took a quick glance at the playground equipment in question. Diamond was right; one of the two chains holding the seat had snapped. That raised the question of what the foals had done to snap a chain like that in the first place, but Anon decided that she probably wouldn't like the answer even if she got one.

"If I fix it, will you leave me alone?" Anon said.

Diamond Tiara tilted her head.

"And how would you do that?" She asked. Anon shrugged.

Fixing things… she was used to fixing things. Helping to run a business since she could walk taught her to make herself useful, to not be a burden. She couldn't help in the kitchen very well, and they never trusted her with the cash register. But fixing things? She could do that Stuff broke all the time. Keeping it at least somewhat functional was something she had a lot of experience in.

And magic made it all just so much easier.

A green aura grabbed the snapped ends of the chain, pushing them together.

Anon conjured images of fire into her mind. She was trying to soften the metal with magic so it would stick together - effectively welding with magic fire. But the small, ineffective spell, built on nearly-faded memories of sitting around a campfire with friends, wouldn't be enough. She needed more.

Her hoof grazed the Sun Orb absentmindedly, with the crystal surface feeling warm on touch. A reminder of a different Equestria.

Yeah, that memory will do.

As it turned out, likening her little magic display to welding was more accurate than what Anon expected. Her magic flared, making the metal glow bright hot and blinding Anon for a brief moment.

Light-headed, the jumper stumbled backwards, falling onto her rump. Almost immediately, Anon felt something brush against her front hoof and pull her up.

"Are you feeling alright?" Silver Spoon asked, helping her stand up.

No, I do not. She felt like she was going to vomit, and had a massive headache that was somehow radiating into her horn. The fact that she was seeing a small galaxy worth of stars in her vision was also little help.

Whose grand idea was it to make the bone structure protruding from my head have so many nerve endings? I hate alien physiology.

Anon managed to say, "Fixed it," while trying to shake off the feeling of someone driving a rusty nail right into her frontal lobe.

Silver Spoon blinked a few times, turning to stare at the repaired chain, and inspected the place where the links had been mended. The new joint was deformed and splotchy, but it did look like it could hold.

"H-how?" Silver Spoon said, picking the chain carefully and tugging at it, testing how it held together. "You made steel glow red! You need temperatures over… a thousand degrees for that!"

"Magic," Anon answered simply, her vision finally free of the spots and stars that were relentlessly attacking it.

Note to self: If you ever want to do this again - don’t.

"B-but!" Silver Spoon said. Anon leaned closer, a glint of madness in her unblinking stare.

"Magic," Anon whispered.

Before Silver Spoon had more time to question Anon’s barely-existing sanity, Diamond Tiara gave a low chuckle.

"You know, we could play dodgeball or something, if you insisted," Diamond Tiara suggested.

Anon turned away from Silver Spoon. The rich, tiara-wearing filly was giving her a patient smile - or at least a pretty good imitation of one.

She was acting - Anon was sure of that - but for what purpose, she had no idea.

A course of action was open to Anon. Would she go along with the charade once more, trying to carefully reveal Diamond’s secret plan? Brave the risk of betrayal, using herself as bait until she either discovered the trap, or stumbled right into it, too late to avoid it?

"Okay, what are you playing at?"

Or she could ask. That should work too - they were just kids, after all.

Diamond Tiara tilted her head.

"The swings, duh," she gave Anon another almost-believable smile. "It would be kinda rude to not go on them now."

Anon shook her head and the smile on Diamond Tiara's face faltered just a little.

"No, I mean, why are you trying to be friends with me?" Anon pushed. "And I mean the real reason."

Diamond Tiara stepped back a little, the smile now totally vanishing as she started to dig at the ground - nervous.

Finally, I'm getting somewhere.

"You complete the team," she said quietly.

Anon's mind went blank.

Or maybe not.

"...I do what now?" Anon said, feeling her tenuous understanding of the situation slip more and more.

Diamond Tiara sighed, exasperated, and pointed to Silver Spoon.

"Okay, so Silver? She's the smart one. She knows stuff, and reads, like… whole books." She paused to let that revelation sink in - which only made Anon question reality more. "And not fun books either. Boring ones about old ponies who don't matter anymore. And she wears glasses."

The importance of the filly's eyewear went right over the jumper's head, as Anon had not yet snapped from her daze. Nevertheless, Diamond Tiara moved on, putting a hoof over the jumper's shoulder, causing her to flinch away.

"And I’m the charismatic leader." Diamond Tiara said smugly. "I know how to talk to ponies. Make them do what I want. As for how you fit in?"

She gave Anon an unflappable, totally serious look, sending even more of Anon’s rapidly dwindling sanity down the drain as she tried to determine if this was just an elaborate prank or if she had finally gone insane.

"You're the bruiser."

Yeah, I’m nuts, definitely.

"The what?" Anon said, while slowly edging away from Diamond.

"Bruiser. You know?" Diamond said, her tone suggesting that what she was saying made even a modicum of sense. "The muscle behind the operation."

Anon paused, her mind racing, desperately reaching for any rationale behind that sentence.

"...Is your dad in the mafia?"

She found one. Maybe.

Diamond Tiara raised her brow.

"The what?" she asked, and it sounded sincere.

A bit too sincere, Anon thought. But she was probably wrong. Or at least Anon hoped she was wrong, because the idea of a pony-run mafia was something even the jumper was not yet ready to accept.

That's too crazy, they don't sound even remotely Italian!

"Okay, we'll get back to that later." Anon said. "What do you mean by me being -" she raised her hooves to do air quotes, something remarkably hard to do without any fingers "- 'the muscle' behind the operation. Me? A short, scrawny little unicorn?"

Celestia was right when she said that Anon looked much healthier now, but three years of hanging on the edge of starvation weren't going to be fixed so quickly. Anon was vaguely aware that she had muscles - logically speaking, she had to have some to be able to move around - but finding them would be a whole other matter.

"You have magic," Diamond Tiara explained. "And you’re fast and tough. And you stood up for me, even saved me, after I was not nice to you and called you a mean word.” She paused, her ears drooping just a little. “No one has done that before."

Anon stayed silent for a little while. Was Diamond Tiara… genuine? She could at least see the logic behind it: She had saved her, so now Diamond wanted to be around her more. That made sense.

But then, why did she sound so sad when she mentioned the last part about mean words? Like it was somehow just as important, or even more so, than the "saving her life" thing.

Anon shrugged. She had already made her choice and accepted the invitation into Diamond's little posse, even if she didn't think it was that big of a deal.

"Well, it's that and mom wanted me to make friends with you," Diamond added sheepishly.

Anon shot her a puzzled look. Her mother? Thinking about it, she hadn't met her yet. Without data, any guesses about her motives for this would just be that: Guesses.

Maybe her mom just wanted Diamond to make more friends? That is something that parents do, right?

But then, it sounded like her mother spoke about Anon, specifically. She simply chalked it down to another show of gratitude for carrying Tiara out of danger, yet something felt off about it.

"But you seem fun to hang out with." Diamond Tiara added. "Nothing ever happens in Ponyville. It's so boring."

"Except when Everfree monsters wander into town," Silver Spoon piped up. "Or ancient night-goddesses attack out of nowhere."

"Okay that's true." Diamond Tiara said, rolling her eyes.

But Silver Spoon didn't pay any attention to her, as she tapped her hoof on the ground - a pony equivalent of counting your own fingers, Anon guessed.

"Or Pinkie Pie does Pinkie Pie things. Or it's election year, or any major national holiday or-" Silver Spoon shuddered. "Or when it's Tuesday."

Diamond Tiara gave a grim nod. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot about Tuesdays."

The filly then waved her hoof. "Anyway, you seem fun to be around and basically nothing ever happens in Ponyville. So let's hang out and have some fun."

Anon stayed silent, staring at the ground.

Fun…

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Diamond pointed at the repaired swings. "Let's go on. Who will push who first?"

Anon got up, dusting herself off. A smirk on her muzzle.

"I have a better idea."

Cleaning.

It was such a calming, meditative task to Bon Bon. Something to do with her hooves while she and Lyra talked. It gave them time to relax and simply enjoy each other's company while they did the mundane chore of keeping their home from slowly becoming a landfill.

“And that's the last reason Trot on my heart is the superior album.”

Well, at least that was what was supposed to happen.

"In short, I'm saying I like Coloratura's earlier works more." Lyra huffed, oblivious to the feather dusters levitating around her.

Bon Bon gave her a curt nod, picking up yet another discarded roll of paper with music notes hastily scrawled over it.

Bon Bon sighed.

She loved witnessing Lyra’s bouts of creativity. The times where the minty mare would sit for hours, creating music from that mysterious space in her head where thought became songs were fascinating to watch. It was just that Bon Bon sometimes wished she would be a little less messy about it, and not leave empty cups of coffee and crumpled-up sheet notes scattered everywhere.

Or, in this case, scribble her ideas over an old poster for Coloratura concerts because she ran out of music sheet.

And also their walls, shower curtains, napkins, table cloths, and basically any other surface that could conceivably be written on. Their whole bedroom looked like it was visited by a very musically inclined tornado.

"I know you do honey. You explained your reasons for it. All seventy four of them," she replied. "But that still doesn't tell me if you want to keep the poster or not."

Lyra puffed her cheeks, giving her fiance a playful nudge.

"It was seventy six. And don't honey me, sweet cheeks," she said in an exaggerated tone, made even less convincing by the wide grin on her muzzle. "This is serious!"

"Don't sweet cheek me then, Lyly," Came the swift reply, accompanied by a little giggle and another nudge.

"Don't Lyly me…" Lyra hesitated, muzzle scrunched in concentration. "Candy butt."

Bon Bon gave her a stoic, disapproving look, her lower lip twitching before she burst out laughing.

"Candy butt?" she managed to gasp between chuckles. "Really?"

Lyra scratched the back of her head nervously.

"Eh, you put me on the spot," she said sheepishly.

The mood soured fast as Lyra’s eyes trailed towards the letter marked with the Equestrian Royal Seal on the bedside table, delivered in the morning by the ever-dutiful Ponyville mailmare. She picked it up and gave it another look - it didn't matter how many times she had read those official-sounding words, they still felt unbelievable, too good to be true.

Sweetie Drops more or less knew what would be in the letter, of course. The agent had no doubt about the result of Celestia's - or rather Sunny’s - visit. Not after Lyra's display of parental responsibility.

Anon would stay with them for the time being. Their foster care was prolonged until adoption, with them being considered as candidates.

And while it was nice how bubbly and happy it made Lyra - enough to trigger a whole songwriting episode - there was a little note attached to that letter that made them both worry, even though it was for very different reasons.

"Are you sure it's a good idea?" Lyra asked slowly. “Sending Spring to talk to a therapist?”

Bon Bon gave a long sigh, leaning on Lyra’s side.

"Not very," she said after a few seconds of thoughtful silence. "But it's probably the right thing to do. And she's good at what she does."

Bon Bon paused, tapping at her chin with her front hoof.

"Though this seems very different from her usual line of work," Bon Bon said. "She specializes in couples therapy, last I saw her."

Lyra put the letter down, giving her fiance an incredulous look.

"You know her?" Lyra asked.

"Oh yeah," Bon Bon answered. "Since I was a teenager, actually. She was also an apprentice in the palace. Learned from the therapist there."

Lyra nodded. That sounded good. There was prestige to having an apprenticeship at Canterlot Palace. It meant that you learned from the best of the best. Lyra was pretty sure that Bon Bon could build her entire career on that fact alone - she'd learned her craft in royal kitchens, from the royal chefs. There was a nonzero chance that Celestia herself had tried something Bon Bon had made.

If Bon Bon truly wanted, she could have opened her shop in Canterlot, instead of a small town like Ponyville - a place where Pinkie Pie and Bon Bon gave each other dirty looks everytime Pinkie attempted to make her own chocolate or Bon Bon tried to sell baked goods.

Yet, something started to bother Lyra. A little detail that didn't make much sense.

"Why were there therapist apprenticeships in the palace, of all places?" She said, "I understand why chefs and chefs' apprentices would be there, but a therapist? How would that even work?"

Bon Bon gave her a shrug.

“It's a big building," she explained. "Well, several buildings actually. There are whole families living there, not to mention the guard barracks, a few embassies, and the most prestigious school of magic on the continent. So the castle has its own hospital. And that includes a psychotherapy staff."

Lyra smiled. Of course Bon Bon would know more about this than her - she’d only visited the castle twice, and both times she'd wanted to get away from there as fast as possible.

"Huh," Lyra said. "I guess I never really appreciated just how big the castle complex was."

Suddenly, the minty unicorn perked up, rasing her hoof in as she gestured for silence.

"Somepony is at the doors," she said just as somepony knocked downstairs.

Bon Bon cast Lyra a strange look, before shrugging and saying, "I'll get it." She trotted down the stairs quickly, and heard snippets of conversation from behind the front door…

"Wait," Anon interrupted, "so were you promoted or not?"

Beside the green filly trudged a stallion in faded golden armor. The bags under his eyes whispered a secret tale of having to deal with forgotten paperwork late into the morning. Only his sense of duty, and ungodly amounts of coffee, was keeping the guard on his legs.

Well, that and Steel Wind didn't want to get yelled at again.

The poor soldier was at the end of his wits. After the catastrophe that was the Summer Sun Celebration - for which he was noticed by command - a decision was made to station guards in town permanently. Which meant a whole squad of rookies was assigned here.

And they needed a leader.

Not for the first, or last, time, Steel Wind considered the pros and cons of claiming insanity to get off duty. (Not that it would work if he tried, anyway, as being insane doesn't stop one from serving or getting promoted. If anything, it helps…)

"Yesn’t," the guard answered simply.

Anon stopped, eye twitching slightly.

"So you were promoted. Technically." Anon said slowly. "But you don't have a higher pay or anything. Just more responsibilities."

Steel Wind nodded. "Precisely."

Anon pondered this for a few seconds. Her eyes narrowed, as if she was trying to physically pinpoint the logic behind any of this.

She didn't find any.

"That doesn't make any sense," Anon finally declared.

"Correct," agreed Steel Wind.

Anon shot him another puzzled look, her shoulders sagging.

"I don't think I get how the guard works," she said sadly.

An armored hoof patted her on the head. Steel Wind's eyes were empty as they looked into the distance. "Me too buddy," he muttered. "Me too."

Their short moment of camaraderie, pondering the senselessness of the giant bureaucracy that called itself an army, was interrupted by Bon Bon opening the door.

The earth pony mare wore a look of profound worry mixed with confusion, seeing a certain green filly sitting in front of her.

The reason for her confusion was an easy one.

School wasn't supposed to be over yet - and she was the one who was supposed to pick Anon up once it ended. She'd only gone home from work to get lunch first, but then got caught in helping Lyra clean the mess from her songwriting episode

Bon Bon panicked. Did she take too long? No, the town's clocktower showed her that there was still time left before school was supposed to end. So something else must have happened.

And then there was the whole other issue.

"Hello Spring, you’re home early," Bon Bon's eyes drifted towards Steel Wind, fighting to not fall asleep where he stood, totally ignoring her pointed look. "And with a royal guard as an attache."

Anon gulped, turning towards the guard for help, but the only answer she got was gentle snoring.

"Yeah, there was an… accident."

The tone of voice used when talking about the "accident" did not help Bon Bon’s rampant paranoia, but there was no smoke over the horizon, so it couldn't have been that bad, right?

From behind Bon Bon, Lyra’s head popped out, squeezing around her fiance to run towards Anon.

"Accident?!" Lyra shrieked, stopping inches away from Anon, looking for any signs of harm or injuries, fortunately finding none. "Are you alright? What happened?"

Anon gave a nervous chuckle.

"So, eh, I tried using my magic to push a swing and, well… Do either of you know what a centrifuge is?"

Lyra froze for a second, staring intently at the small foal currently trying to disappear into the pavement.

Bon Bon's reaction was much more immediate.

She facehooved, relief mixing with exasperation.

Magical mishaps were to be expected - more if Anon wasn't used to even being an unicorn. As long as everypony was alright and the school was left standing, she could live with it.

"Is anypony hurt?" Bon Bon asked.

Anon sunk even lower, her voice trembling.

"Maybe?" she said, sounding too unsure for comfort. "They haven't found Snails yet…"

The foal perked back up, giving them both a big, shining, and obviously false smile.

"On the bright side, we got to go home early!" she said, attempting to sound cheerful, but failing miserably.

And then Bon Bon noticed that Anon was shaking.

Lyra reached for Anon, but the foal recoiled, putting her hooves above her head.

Defensive posture, noted the analytic part of Sweetie Drops’ brain. Expecting an attack from above - from somepony taller than them.

"Spring…" Bon Bon sighed.

"Well, if this is all, I will be going," Steel Wind yawned while stretching his neck with a loud pop that made Bon Bon cringe - she was pretty sure that necks were not supposed to make that sound.

"Oh, thanks Corporal," said Lyra.

"Sergeant." Steel corrected, waving his hoof. "I’m “acting” Sergeant Steel now."

Lyra blinked.

"...What does that even mean?" she asked.

Steel Wind shrugged.

"Tartarus if I know. Have a nice day!"

With the guard leaving, Bon Bon turned towards Anon.

"Well, it's decided now," she said.

"You’re going to therapy."

Author's Note

Well, here we go. I know, it's late. Why? I got promoted.
That is not a good thing.
But I'm still here. And things did get stable again so I'm probably going to have more time in the future - at least I hope.
Anyway, I have to stop myself before I start to rant. Have a nice day, hope you enjoyed the chapter, let's hope that the next one will come in a more timely manner.

Chapter Nineteen: Dreams and Wonders Of The Yonder

Cheerilee's hoof hovered inches from the door. She hesitated.

Somepony needed to take action; the incident at school today made that clearer than ever. Snails had luckily landed in a rather convenient lake, but what if he hadn’t? The unicorns in her class - and Spring especially - needed somepony for horn lessons, and this was by far the best, most qualified pony for the job.

So why did she have such a bad feeling about this?

"Deep breaths Cheerilee, you're doing it for the foals," she muttered to herself in some vain hope that it would help silence the alarm bells going off in her head.

Finally, she knocked on the doors of the Golden Oaks Library.

“Spike!" rang out the familiar voice of Twilight Sparkle, magical prodigy, professional bookworm, and the town's new librarian. "Can you get the door?”

“On it!”

And that was Spike, Ponyville's resident dragon, and the other reason for Cheerilee's visit to the library.

For a few more seconds, Cheerilee stood there as a strange cacophony of noise came from the library - as if somepony was driving a snow plough against a pile of strangely dry bricks.

“Why are they always knocking anyway?" Spike asked nopony in particular. "This is a public library.”

At this, Cheerilee felt her cheeks redden, but she bravely fought off the urge to facehoof.

“Spike, just open the doors, please,” Twilight called.

The doors finally opened to reveal the inside of the library.

Now, Cheerilee was more than acquainted with different kinds of messes - it came with the territory of working with foals. But the mess inside the library was impressive even to her.

Books were covering every inch of the floor. A hole in the wall was hastily covered with an ill-fitting piece of wallpaper - not even pretty wallpaper, but old beige wallpaper - and, gathered in one corner, was a pile of wooden scraps that used to be a bookshelf.

Twilight herself didn't look much better.

Her mane looked like she'd been in a freak incident involving an electric eel and a rogue typhoon. The bags under her eyes looked large enough to be used in a bank robbery, and the eyes themselves had a crazed glint in them. The sort of look that screamed “I think the fridge is out to get me.”

Despite all of this, Twilight somehow managed to sound bored as she barely glanced away from her mountain of books, muttering a quick “Good morning Cheerilee,” then promptly returning to her reading.

Cheerilee only managed to give her a small nod.

It was six in the afternoon.

Suddenly, Twilight sprung up, closing her book with a loud thud. The lettering on the cover was worn out from use, but Cheerilee could still read it:

Soul Magics

by Starswirl The Bearded.

“Oh! Cheerilee,” Twilight brightened, turning to Spike. “See? I still got it!”

The teacher shot a confused look at the young drake, who only gave a long, exasperated sigh.

“She has this new obsession with true names and whatnot,” he said tiredly. “She's been like this since the whole ticket fiasco.”

“It's not an obsession!” argued Twilight. “It's scientific research!”

“You keep running up to random ponies trying to guess their names.” Spike paused, one claw tapping against his chin. “I'm pretty sure half the town is convinced that's just how ponies from Canterlot introduce themselves.”

Twilight rushed to the drake and stuck her hoof into his mouth.

“Anyway,” Twilight said pointedly, sending Spike a glare before turning towards Cheerilee. “Are you here to check out a book, or…”

"Right!” Cheerilee said, latching onto the opportunity to change the subject with the desperation of a drowning mare grabbing a piece of driftwood. “I brought the extra textbooks for Spike you asked for.”

Wiggling out of his caretaker's grip, Spike's shoulders sagged when he saw a thick math textbook balanced on Cheerilees' back.

“Really?” Spike sighed. “More homework?”

“You’re still grounded, young drake." Twilight said, asserting the same tone of voice to everypony who had ever reprimanded a child. "And you know what that means. No comics and extra homework.”

Spike threw his arms into the air, gesturing at the older and thus, at least in theory, more responsible mare.

“But I'm homeschooled!" Spike argued. "Isn't all my work homework by definition?”

Cheerilee tilted her head, confused yet again - something that seemed to happen a lot around the newest Ponyville residents.

“Grounded?” Cheerilee asked.

“Spike planted an IAD in my bed,” Twilight said in a tone of voice that suggested that what she said was supposed to be readily and easily understood, which honestly was what confused Cheerilee the most.

The teacher blinked a few times, before turning to Spike.

“Improvised Acupuncture Device," explained the young drake. “But it was in self defense!”

Twilight's eyes narrowed and she stomped her hoof on the book-covered floor. She did, however, take great care to avoid potentially damaging any precious literature.

“I had to explain to a doctor why I had a book about cacti stuck to my flank!” Twilight said, her mind wandering back to the possible reasons why anypony would take the time to fill an encyclopedia of Southern Saddle Arabian flora with real cactus samples.

Spike simply shrugged, picking up the math textbooks and tossing them onto the pile of unsorted books.

“Have you seen this town?” Spike asked. “I bet it wasn't the weirdest thing the doctor had to deal with that afternoon.”

"It took two hours to get out!" Twilight argued.

"It would have been much quicker if you let the doctor touch the book without checking it out first,” Spike noted. “Most of those two hours were you making him set up a new library card.”

Twilight rolled her eyes, lifting the tossed math books with her magic and forcing them back into Spike’s claws.

"For the last time,” Twilight said, ignoring the pouty look from the drake. “I was loopy from the anesthesia!” She paused, muttering under her breath, “I swear, they used the one for bears, not ponies.”

"It was the one for bears,” Spike pointed out. “Remember? Fluttershy shot you with a dart gun when you wouldn't calm down.”

“Okay, but-”

“Ahem.”

Both Twilight and Spike froze, heads spinning around towards the source of the fake cough. Cheerilee gave them a patient - and only slightly strained - smile.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Cheerilee said, speaking in the same gentle voice used either for children or for large, predatory animals. “But there's another thing I wanted to ask you, Twilight.”

Twilight gave the teacher a puzzled look at this, but Cheerilee stayed silent, organizing her thoughts and thinking how to phrase her request in the best way.

“You see,” Cheerilee finally continued. “The freelancer we normally get for horn lessons is out and I was wondering if you couldn't replace them, at least temporarily.”

It was a real shame Cherry Blossom had had to leave. Her mother in Trottingham had fallen sick, and she decided to stay there for a while and help care for her. Understandable, but that put Cheerilee in the difficult position of having to find a replacement on short notice.

And then there was little Springs' situation to make it all the more complicated.

“Wait, you want me to teach magic to foals?” Twilight asked, with her eyebrows raised so high they threatened to escape her face and head straight towards the ceiling.

“Yes. But only temporarily,” assured Cheerilee. “Just the basics. Hopefully enough to avoid any… destructive incidents.”

Twilight gave her a nod, numb and deep in thought.

In truth, she did have some experience teaching. Not magic - well, not pony magic, anyway - but she'd helped homeschool Spike ever since the last attempt at enrolling him into a school back in Canterlot ended rather...badly. And she did know a thing or two about destructive magical incidents - mainly because she caused several of them - but her confidence in her ability to stop them was rather lacking.

“I don't know,” Twilight said nervously. “I don't think I would be a good fit.”

Cheerilee paled. The idea of having a bunch of young unicorns figuring out their magic on their own was a chilling prospect. Literally, in some cases. She’d heard that a unicorn colt once turned his teacher into an ice cube. But it could be even worse! There was even the one horror story of a filly from Canterlot turning her parents into potted plants.

“Please Twilight,” begged Cheerilee. “You have experience schooling Spike, and you’re definitely the most knowledgeable about the subject. I honestly don't know where I would look next.”

That was a lie, she did have some other leads. Mainly Rarity and Lyra - but Rarity was always busy and often out of town, and Lyra was… well, Lyra. The mare had good control over her magic, but Cheerilee doubted that her personality would mesh well with the job.

Twilight stood there, her expression clearly conflicted.

“Okay, I'll do it,” Twilight relented. She didn't have time to properly understand what she had agreed to as Cheerilee pulled her into a hug.

“Oh thank you! Thank you!” The teacher said, “There is just one more thing.”

The teacher paused, glancing at Spike grumpily exiting the room, math textbooks in claw, before continuing.

“It's about Spring.”

The forest was silent.

That did not make her stop.

Anon ran blindly into the mist, no destination in mind other than away from where she was. But she could not escape the giant evergreens towering above her. She felt their eyes upon her skin and in her flesh. She was heaving and gasping for air, but by God, she couldn't stop running. That single thought blazed in her mind, overpowering all others. Don’t stop. Not even as your muscles seize, your lungs burn and your heart beats so loud you feel it in your skull.

And so she ran, each impact of her hooves against the forest floor kicking up moss, dirt, and bones.

The bones, so many bones. Big ones and small ones, hidden from sight. A graveyard and a trap. But she was so stupid and so curious. She'd seen something white and just had to take a peek under the blanket of gentle moss-

-Revealing skulls bleached white, overgrown with tree roots. Hundreds of them. Thousands.

The forest was alive.

The forest was hungry.

She should have known something was wrong from the beginning. This world seemed too peaceful - too empty - not to be a trick. No plants other than the giant trees and the moss covering every inch of the ground. No animal life, not even insects. Just the endless trunks in their unnaturally neat rows, a blanket of moss and rolling mist obscuring her surroundings. That and the silence. The heavy, ever present, suffocating silence.

Anon ran for her life, her steps getting heavier and heavier. She was foaming at her mouth, abject terror pushing her further and further past the point of exhaustion. The trees were watching her, mocking her effort to stay alive and escape.

Do not stop. Never, ever, stop.

The jumper took a quick glance over her shoulder. It was there. She saw the shape in the mist, nothing but a mere glimpse of the misshapen, misbegotten… thing. She tried to run faster, but her hooves got caught in a tree root that wasn't there a second ago. Her balance nearly lost Anon-

Wait, hooves?

“Enough!”

The dream crashed to a stop. The thing vanished, vaporized by a beam of dark blue magic, leaving only a cloud of shining stardust behind.

Princess Luna landed, wings folding on her back as she inspected the remains, before turning towards the stunned jumper.

"Are thou-'' she gave an awkward cough. "My apologies. Are you alright?"

The jumper stopped staring.

She got angry instead.

"Get out of my head,” she snarled.

Luna backed a step away. The forest visibly darkened, the trees swaying from non-existent wind. She could feel the dream realm becoming more and more hostile.

“Please calm down, the dream is-”

“Are you daft?” Anon snapped. “Get out of my head!”

“No!” Luna yelled. The force of her voice sent Anon back. The jumper's posture changed. Her expression turned cold - all emotion seemingly gone in a split second.

“Your mind is vulnerable,” Luna said, voice softer, ridden with guilt. “Even with my sister's protection, it's still defenseless in the dream realm.”

Anon flinched. How easy was it for Luna to get in? How easily could Luna change her dreams? Or her very mind? She looked at her hooves, while trying to imagine arms in the place of the two furry green limbs. One question was still ringing in her mind.

Why am I still a pony in my dreams?

“The knowledge you possess,” Luna continued. “The… things you saw. They are a threat. Not just to you. If those ideas get out and infect the dreams of other ponies…”

Luna shuddered.

“I cannot allow that.”

Anon wilted, head hung low as she sat on the ground - avoiding eye contact and gazing into the forest.

She could see all the little details, sense the damp moss on her fur, spot the individual grains of wood on a broken branch.

Dreams weren't supposed to be so detailed. But this wasn't a dream, not really. This was a memory. One changed, warped - she wasn't a pony at the time, or even a she - but the memory still held power.

And if let to run amok…

“Damn it,” Anon finally sighed.

Luna gave a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry.”

Anon waved her hoof at her, looking the other way.

The night princess started to dig unconsciously at the ground - only to stop when she uncovered more bones. Eyes swiveling side to side, making sure Anon was still facing the other way, she quickly buried them again - all the while cursing whatever being was responsible.

The bones there were very small.

“How many of my dreams have you seen?” Anon asked, the princess giving her a startled look.

“This is the first,” she said slowly. “I only interfere in this way when I sense… a disturbance. Something trying to escape.”

Anom gave a nod.

“Good.”

The jumper paused, letting out a mirthless chuckle. The princess gave her a strange look.

“It's funny, you know?” Anon said, pointing at the mist. "I never really figured out what exactly was chasing me. Maybe there wasn't even anything chasing me at all. Maybe that's how it hunts. It frightens you so much you run until you die of exhaustion.”

Luna gulped. She had faced some truly terrible beasts in her past, but the concept of a monster using fear in such a way hit close to home.

“I fail to see the humor in this situation,” she said.

“Thing is,” Anon explained, "this is one of the first worlds I ended up in. I think…number six?” She waggled her hoof, unsure. “Anyway, it was still at the time where I kept randomly jumping every couple of days. That saved me. If I ended up here now, I would have to wait for a week before even attempting another jump.”

Luna gave a solemn nod, before her eyes widened in realization.

“Days…” she whispered.

Anon tilted her head, the concerned look on Luna’s face confusing the jumper.

“You ran for days,” Luna reiterated.

Anon shrugged.

“Here? Only about one and a half, I think,” she answered casually. “Hard to say exactly. I was a bit preoccupied.”

They both fell quiet for a moment, the surrounding forest unflinchingly still. Luna closed her eyes, listening.

Memories in the dream realm acted differently from normal dreams. They seemed far more real and detailed, but one could always spot the patches where imagination filled in for a pony’s spotty memory. The mind abhors nothingness.

And yet there was no sound in the forest. None. Anon’s mind should have filled it with a background noise, however faint, just to protect itself from the mental backlash.

To say that it made Luna uneasy would be an understatement.

“Weird sunrise yesterday.”

Luna turned sharply towards the jumper, who was leaning against a tree.

“The sun just shot up,” Anon continued, her green eyes boring Luna's blue ones. “All speed, no ceremony. Doesn't seem like Celestia’s style.”

Her eyes narrowed and Luna could swear there was so much smugness in Anon's expression it threatened to explode.

“Almost like something was bothering Celestia,” Anon said. “Enough to distract her from her job. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?”

Luna faced away from the jumper, gritting her teeth.

“We and Celestia had a… disagreement.”

The stare seemed to intensify for a moment. Luna had to acknowledge one fact: Anon and Celestia definitely had the judging stare down to a science. Pausing to think about it, Luna came to the worrying conclusion that Celestia - a Celestia, at least - was probably where Anon learned it in the first place.

After a few more tense moments, the green filly finally relaxed.

“Welp, as long as you don't get pissy and kill the planet,” Anon said. Luna wilted, her breath catching in her throat and her expression changing to one of hurt.

The jumper turned away, still leaning against the tree. Desperately holding onto the anger she felt towards the night princess. Because anger was at least productive. And it was better than the alternative. Anything was better than sadness.

“Don't give me that look,” Anon said. “You invaded my mind. Twice now. You killed everypony.”

She could still see it. The frozen fields and destroyed homes. Shattered walls revealing families huddled together around dark fireplaces. Left forever unburied. She had to spend a week in that place before her next jump. She would call it hellish, but hell was at least supposed to be warm. The jacket was a life saver, as was the fire spell Daybreaker had taught her.

Part of Anon was curious if Daybreaker knew what waited for her in the next world - why else would she insist so hard on her learning that spell? - but she was grateful regardless. Even with it she nearly froze to death. Finding things to burn was difficult - there are very few things one does not burn when one gets desperate, and the inhabitants of that world were beyond desperate before the end.

But Anon prevailed, even after the Nightmare of that world found her hiding spot, forcing Anon to run and make a blind jump - abandoning the mad alicorn to the hell of her own creation.

Which left only Anon to remember it all. Just like every world before. There was a bitter irony to it: she couldn't remember her own name, but she was the only one still carrying that last piece, that remnant of all those people - the last memory that they had ever existed.

But somepony had to remember. Bring some justice into it. Some. Any at all, really.The dead deserved so much more.

Anon felt her eyes water as a few tears ran down her cheek. She tried to fight it, to get angry again. Regain some control over herself. Sadness was useless. Crying was useless. Crying didn't help you. Crying didn't bring people back from the dead. Useless. Anger was better. Anger got you results. Anger kept you alive.

There was a presence next to her. She didn't even notice that Luna sat next to her. The night princess was still facing away from her.

“You’re going to stay here until I wake up, aren't you?” Anon asked tiredly.

Exhausted even when asleep. I love my life.

“This dream is still unstable," Luna answered, her wings fluttering as she spoke. "You might hate me, but I won't allow you to be abandoned to your fate.”

Anon took a deep breath, letting her emotion wash over her.

“I don't hate you,” she said quietly.

Luna tilted her head, a strange look on her face.

“I dislike you,” Anon specified. “There's a difference.”

The smirk Anon gave Luna was mostly fake, but it was a progress; at least she wasn’t on the verge of losing control of her emotions again.

“I suppose that's true,” Luna said. “But you want to hate me.”

Anon took another look at the forest. Searching for a distraction.

She found none.

“Yeah,” Anon whispered.

After a while, she said, "I just can't. And I don't understand why. You had everything. A home, a sister that loved you. And you… you threw it all away.”

Luna paused, ears falling flat against her skull, eyes nearly closed as the two sat next to each other. If not for the foreboding atmosphere of the alien forest, she could say the scene looked almost peaceful.

“Tell me,” Luna said after a good few minutes of thoughtful silence. “If you woke up and your ability to jump was returned to you. Would you use it? Would you-”

“Yes,” Anon interrupted.

"Why?" Luna asked.

Anon opened her mouth. The answer was easy, wasn't it? She had to return.

But then she remembered Bon Bon holding her tight as she cried. She remembered Lyra singing her to sleep. She imagined the house that wanted to be a home becoming a little emptier than before, and suddenly her easy answer seemed much harder.

She sighed. Of course nothing could just be simple.

“So,” Anon said slowly. “How long are we going to be stuck in this forest?”

The night princess gave her a noncommittal shrug.

“I can change it," she offered. "If you allow me to.”

Anon raised a brow at the princess.

“How?” she asked.

“You don't have the ability to change your dreams, not consciously," Luna explained. "But I do. Imagine where you want to be, and I shall lend you my power.”

Anon stared at the princess, scanning for signs of any treachery. There didn't seem to be any, but her response was still the same.

Nope.

“And let you poke into my head some more?" Anon said. "Nah. I pass.”

More time had gone by. Anon started to tap against the tree she was leaning against. She attempted to pick a rhythm, without much success. The sound seemingly vanished from existence. It seemed the carnivorous alien forest had surprisingly bad acoustics. She even tried to whistle - to fill the silence somehow - but found she was still as bad at whistling in a dream as she was in the real world.

“Alright!” She said suddenly. “What am I supposed to do?”

Luna gave her a small smile, a hint of amusement in her eyes.

“Relax," she said. "Imagine a place where you want to be, try to anchor yourself in it. And take a deep breath.”

The green filly gave her a nod.

Relax, that's easy to say.

The bark was rough against her back, there was no smell of anything - which was somehow more distracting than if it smelled badly - and the only sounds she picked up was her own breathing and Luna's wings shuffling every so often.

Deep breaths. Just relax…

But all of it went away. The distractions fading into nothing until the only thing left was… her.

A place. A happy place.

So many worlds came to mind. Some were consumed by shadow, fire and chaos. Some were hostile and strange and beyond her understanding. Most were exciting, in the dangerous, want-you-dead way, while some offered respite. But happy?

The scenery changed. Anon expected a more gradual change, but it came like a blink instead. One second she was floating in nothingness, the next she stood in a manicured park with a bright sun shining above.

Sadly, as a consequence of the rather sudden appearance of the floor, Anon ended up falling face first onto an imaginary gravel road.

Luna landed beside Anon - much more gracefully than her green counterpart - with a look of surprise and recognition on her face.

“This is Ponyville,” she said haltingly, before her eyes slowly trailed off to where Anon was sprawled on the ground. “Do you require help?”

A single hoof shot up - Anon having forgotten for a brief moment that she didn't have fingers to gesture with - with the rest of the filly swiftly following.

“Nope,” she said, dusting herself off. “I'm used to this.”

She paused, looking around. It was a fairly realistic replication of Ponyville's park. She questioned for a moment how Luna recognized it so fast, but considering it was one of the first places she had seen after a thousand years spent trapped in the moon, it probably stood out in her memory.

“What now?” Anon asked the Princess, who gave her a shrug.

“It's your dream,” Luna said. “What do you want to do?”

Anon froze with her eyes glued to the sky.

"I dunno,” she said. “I wasn't thinking this far ahead."

The filly simply sat on the grass. It felt less real than the previous one, lacking the sensation of real grass, but it would do.

Luna, finding nothing else to do, did the same.

A park. Luna expected many things, but a park wasn't one. She felt a little selfish for wishing for it, but she’d hoped to see more of Anon's origins. She knew she shouldn't pry, yet what she saw during her invasion of the jumper's mind was intriguing, and she couldn't help but want to know more.

Instead, she got this. An ordinary park in a seemingly mundane town. What was more, an Equestrian town.

"Your eyes are different,” Anon said suddenly, almost startling the princess. "When I last saw you, your ears and eyes were…more catlike? Batlike?" Anon paused. “I would say you looked like a pony version of a vampire, but I doubt you even know what that is.”

Luna grimaced, swallowing emptily.

"This is how I used to look before… before Nightmare Moon."

Anon nodded while picking a nearby daffodil, giving it a wary sniff before taking a cautious bite.

"Why change it?” she asked. “It's just a dream."

The alicorn flinched.

"I don't like the reminder." Luna said. "Of what I used to be. What I was capable of, given the chance."

Anon fell silent.

There was something bothering her. A discrepancy she couldn't explain.

After Nightmare Moon attacked her mind, both of them blacked out. Utterly defenseless, it wouldn't take much to finish any of them off. The battle would be decided by whichever one of them woke up before the other.

Nightmare Moon woke up first and yet Anon was still alive. She chose to spare her - even after Anon tried to seal her away in the Sun Orb. Even after exploding a grenade in Nightmare Moon's chest, she still showed mercy.

The six mares that used the elements had succeeded. How? The alicorn would’ve gained her power back quickly. The six were civilians. If Nightmare Moon fought back - really fought back - they would have failed, and they would have died. But, just like Anon, they survived, and so one question remained.

Why?

"I think you're looking at it wrong," Anon said, slightly surprised that she said it out loud. “You had the chance.”

Anon hesitated, Luna was now looking right at her.

“The elements. They are not really a weapon, right? They don't just destroy?” Anon asked and Luna gave a slow nod. “I think they didnt get rid of all of Nightmare Moon because they didn't really need to,” she paused. Luna was shaking slightly and Anon suddenly felt very nervous about what she was doing. “You already made the hard choice. They just gave you the final push.”

The filly paused, feeling more sheepish by the second.

“Or maybe I'm completely wrong,” she tried to deflect the alicorn's attention from her. “Don't look at me, I don't know what I'm talking about.”

“Anon?” Luna said after a long pause.

“Yeah?” was Anon's very verbose answer.

"Thank you."

The filly turned away, waving her hoof.

“Well, we still have time,” Anon said after a while. “You wanna play cards or something?”

Luna smiled. There was something of a predatory glee in that smile.

“Gladly.”

Author's Note

It lives! Hahaha!

This chapter didn't have that much stuff in it, but I thought that resolving the dangling plot threat with Anon disliking Luna would be worth it. Adding some jumper backstory to the mix was just a bonus. Also, the part with Twilight and Spike wasn't supposed to be that long. Sadly, I enjoy writing Twilight and Spike as siblings a bit too much, so them taking half the chapter was basically unavoidable.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter, again many thanks to both PseudoBob Delightus and Discombobulated Soul for their invaluable assistance in making my insane scribbles readable.

Chapter Twenty: Things That Go Wrong

Anon woke up.

That by itself wasn't that surprising. Anon had been going through extreme lengths for the past several years to ensure that would keep happening.

What was surprising was that her sleep was peaceful.

With the night terrors fought off, her dream was mostly pleasant… after Luna showed up, at least. She'd even learned something during her slumber - which by itself was a pretty big success. Most people don't learn anything during sleep, except that their back hurts.

Anon had learned things about Luna - about her dream walking abilities and about her - who she was and why. The jumper now felt like she understood the night princess a little better, though she wasn't so sure if that was a good thing.

And Anon also learned that Luna was a big dirty cheater who'd definitely done something to the cards.

Seven wins in a row was just too lucky.

I bet she marked the cards when I wasn't looking. Stupid dream magic…

With a yawn, Anon slipped out of bed and shot a look out the window.

Still dark.

The filly paused, rubbing her chin.

On the one hoof, she could go back to sleep, and hope it wouldn't result in terrible things from the space between escaping the confines of the dream world and attacking her slumbering mind.

Or she could go get breakfast.

I do feel a bit peckish…

Deciding on the latter, the filly went first for the bathroom.

Here a battle was bitterly fought. First with her shower. Drowsiness still not fully beat out of her system, Anon too late realized she accidentally put her head under the water.

Not a problem, someone may think, and it really wasn't.

Until her mane began to dry, that is.

Anon stared at her reflection in the mirror, observing the mass on her head.

I hate when my mane does this. I get it’s puffy, but this is beyond ridiculous. It’s almost bigger than me!

Coming to the conclusion that looking like a victim of a lighting strike wouldn't fly with her ~~parents~~ caretakers, Anon went on the offensive and attacked her mane. A new brush brandished in hoof, she went into battle with the intent of less brushing her mane and more beating it into submission.

Anon lost this battle.

Her morning routine done, Anon went downstairs with a spring in her step.

Or more accurately, Anon tried.

In the middle of the staircase sat Lyra, hind legs sprawled at a strange angle under her lower body, staring vacantly into nothing.

"Ehm, you alright?" Anon piped up, tilting her head.

Lyra didn't seem to react, but Anon could tell something was wrong even from where she stood up the stairs. The strain on her neck as she clenched her jaw, the shallow irregular breaths, and the twitches of movement as the minty mare commanded her legs to move made it plain to see.

She was in pain.

Lyra craned her neck to face Anon - still sitting on the stairs, momentarily frozen - and shot her a weak smile.

"Yup. I'm-" Lyra's voice hitched, as she gasped for breath. "-fine," she finished, her smile faltering. "Nothing to worry about here."

Anon took a step towards her, noticing the scratched surface of the wooden stairs - the place where Lyra probably slipped and fell.

"Do you want me to call Bon Bon?" Anon asked hesitantly, but Lyra just shook her head.

"She had to go take care of some emergency," Lyra said. "But I'm fine. I just need a minute."

And as if to prove the point, Lyra started to slowly get up. Her legs were still wobbly and she was barely hiding the pained effort this took, but she was getting up nonetheless.

And then her hoof slipped.

Anon rushed in to help, but without tapping into her power, she would be too late. The jumper reached inside for her power, reality receiving yet another smackdown as the jumper forced her will upon the weave.

She wouldn't be fast enough.

A green light lit the staircase. Just for a split second a blur of something translucent appeared and gave Lyra a boost, to regain her stability.

Flashing a bright smile to the bewildered jumper, Lyra started walking down the stairs.

"See?" Lyra said. "I'm fine."

Anon stared for a moment.

I must have used my magic accidentally, came the logical explanation. Green magic is mine, but…

Isn't my magic a bit lighter shade of green?

"You're up early," Lyra piped up, interrupting Anon's train of thoughts. The mare suddenly came to a stop, worry creeping up to her features. "It's not the bed, is it?"

Anon shook her head. Choosing that mattress had been a challenge, but she liked her choice. It was kinda hard, and had a lump, and the imperfections were what made it perfect for the jumper.

"No," Anon said slowly. "I had some… dreams."

Lyra gave her a strange look.

"Good ones, I hope?" she asked

Anon shrugged, trotting up to the minty mare, standing side by side with her.

"Something like that."

The mare waited for a moment before she spoke up again.

"Hey," Lyra said. "Wanna watch the sunrise with me?"

Anon nodded, and the two of them walked outside to the small porch in front of the house. Lyra simply sat on the ground next to a flower bed, tapping on the space next to her. Giving a shrug, the filly plopped herself there, and they both gazed at the pinkish horizon.

It was nice.

Anon, sticking by a sudden urge she didn't care to resist or explain, leaned on the minty mare, to her great surprise.

"I still don't get it sometimes," Anon said suddenly. The bigger pony cocked her head at this, brow rising.

"Don't get what?" Lyra asked, curious.

"Why I made it," Anon explained. "Why others didn't."

Lyra gave her a confused glance before her expression changed to something more somber.

"I don't think there is an answer for that," Lyra said carefully. "But for what it's worth, I'm glad you're here, Spring."

Anon smiled.

She was still stuck. Stuck pretending, stuck lost so far from what used to be her home. Stuck wondering what tomorrow would bring, or if it would come at all.

But for now, it seemed tomorrow did come. There was a future.

Her memory was a mess, her body patchwork of scars and her soul itself was torn and tattered.

But tomorrow came nonetheless.

"What brought that up?" asked Lyra.

Anon fidgeted in place.

"I was just… thinking about stuff," Anon said as noncommittally as possible. "About peo- ponies," Anon interrupted herself. "Moving on- well, trying to move on, from the stuff they did and wanted to do, the consequences of it all."

The filly paused.

Her mind flashed back to the night princess. To all the things she wanted to do, all the things she would do.

But this Luna didn't choose any of that. No, this Luna went down a different path instead. She was now left to accept that, while capable of exacting revenge, she needed to move past that and live in a world that had damned and all but forgotten her. Continue in a place she hardly recognized as home anymore.

And Anon, despite all her complicated feelings about the night princess, had to admit that put Luna into nearly the same shoes as her.

If she can go forward, why can't I?

"Do you think that..." Anon paused, searching for the right words. "That if you try, anybody can get a happy ending?"

Lyra reached a hoof over, scooping Anon up and pulling her into her chest.

"Eh, you really go for the hard hitting questions, do you?" Lyra said, patting the filly.

The mare looked at the sun - the sunrise was beautiful. The colors on the horizon were almost playful.

"I didn't have a happy foalhood."

Anon sat quietly, listening as Lyra spoke.

"Me and my family… we never really saw eye to eye," the mare continued. "They were so dead set in their ways. So opposed to change." Lyra gave a chuckle. "Kind of ironic, really."

Anon raised a brow at that, thinking she'd missed something, but Lyra continued.

"Well, I thought I found a better way to do things," she said slowly. "Thought that I could prove them wrong."

Anon's eyes trailed towards Lyra's back. Her mind returned to the doctor's picture of Lyra's injury - the bent spine, fused together vertebrae, and the scar tissue running so deep it showed on the scan, spread through her muscle like some kind of a demented spider's web.

"It didn't end well," Lyra finished.

"Did you ever forgive them?" Anons asked.

Lyra looked away.

"No," she said after a while.

"But that's not where it ended." Lyra continued. "I came to Ponyville, found an audience for my music," Lyra paused, a smile growing on her lips. "Met Bon Bon."

The mare pulled Anon into a hug; the filly letting out a surprised squeak.

"And now I've got you!"

Anon squirmed as Lyra descended mercilessly on her quite ticklish belly. To Lyra's surprise, the filly somehow managed to get free from her grasp and maneuver herself until she was holding both her front hooves. A smug look appeared on Anon's face, so sure of her victory.

But Lyra still had magic.

The filly's smugness vanished in a flash as she began to levitate, surrounded by an amber aura, right back into Lyra's waiting hooves.

"No fair!" Anon struggled out between laughter as Lyra descented on the filly, tickling her. "That's cheating!"

In a stunning display of maturity, Lyra blew a raspberry, only to be taken down by a surprise tackle from Anon.

None of them noticed the sunrise behind them as they played. Not that they cared.

Meanwhile, around the jumper's neck, the orb glowed a little brighter.

They ended up nearly late for school.

Anon had no regrets.

Lyra huffed and puffed, and her limp was noticeably slowing her down - it seemed that she still wasn't feeling well. Anon didn't mind, trotting beside the mare at her own pace until they arrived at the schoolhouse - all the while she enjoyed the almost unfamiliar feeling swell in her chest.

Happiness.

The jumper let out a content sigh.

It's going to be a good day.

Things went downhill from there.

Almost immediately, Anon noticed Diamond Tiara by the schoolhouse, which by itself wasn't strange at all. It would be weirder if she wasn't there, all things considered.

What was strange was the mare standing next to Diamond, with a light pink coat and elaborate mane cut, holding her nose at a very improbable angle.

If she was anypony else, Anon would probably ignore the gut feeling she was getting. But the jumper being a jumper, her gut feeling was finely tuned, not some vague sense of unease.

A normal sense of unease leaves you scared and worried. The air tastes different as you observe your immediate surroundings for dangers you cannot see, but know arethere, somewhere.

The jumper's gut feeling didn't work like that.

Hers pointed. With neon signs. And billboards. And a blue inflatable figure holding a plaque reading: "PREPARE!!!" in big, bold letters.

Anon called him Ronaldo.

Anon is not a stable person.

But all of it - especially Ronaldo - was aimed at the mare.

She was bad news, and it wasn't hard for Anon to realize why.

Diamond Tiara was standing behind the mare and looking down, keeping her head low and her ears flat against her skull, trying to make herself seem smaller.

Diamond Tiara was afraid of her.

"Hello Spoiled Rich," Lyra said, and Anon could swear she saw Diamond flinch from the corner of her eyes.

Spoiled Rich? That's just unfair…

"Good morning Heartstrings," came the overly sweet voice of Spoiled Rich. When that was put together with the plastic smile that didn't reach the mare's eyes, Anon couldn't help but instinctively reach towards her mane and check that the True Spork was still hidden there.

The moment was quick and subtle, but was, unfortunately, enough to bring Spoiled's attention from Lyra to Anon.

Spoiled Rich's expressions changed, her features softened, and her smile broadened.

But her eyes stayed cold.

Anon shuddered.

She'd had experience with people who had eyes like that. Eyes that somehow ignore that there is another person right in front of them and see only things instead - only pawns, only tools, to use, expend, and throw away.

Anon had no desire to relieve those experiences.

"And hello there little one," Spoiled Rich said, leaning down towards Anon, while the green filly coiled back. "I've heard a lot about you."

Somehow, that sounded like a threat.

A minty hoof suddenly appeared, blocking Spoiled Rich from going any closer. Lyra smiled awkwardly as she positioned herself between Anon and the perceived danger.

"Sorry, we have to go. The class is starting soon," Lyra said, trying to push forward around the mare, who simply waved her off. But for just for a moment, Anon could see the surprise on Diamond Tiara's face and the small frown breaking through Spoiled Rich's facade.

"Of course, we wouldn't want to hold you back," Spoiled said sweetly. "Taking her to school must be so difficult with your… condition."

As she spoke, Lyra flinched back, her ears drooping.

"But I just wanted you to invite you for tea today," Spoiled Rich said, voice dripping with fake reassurance. "Have Tiara and Spring over, for a play date of sorts. Last I heard, these two were as thick as thieves. Basically sisters already. And goodness knows that Spring doesn't have many other friends to play with."

Lyra cringed, her eyes narrowing angrily at the other mare, but Anon was entirely distracted. Her mind focused only on one part of what Spoiled said.

Sisters already? What's that supposed to mean?

"That's up to Spring," Lyra spoke out, sounding more than a little annoyed. "And I don't think-"

"I want to go."

Both mares turned to Anon, Lyra with a look of confusion and concern and Spoiled with a victorious smirk.

"You sure?" Lyra asked, panic slowly creeping into her voice.

Anon stood there, her own eyes trailing towards Diamond Tiara cowering behind her mother.

No, not cowering. Hiding.

From Spoiled.

"Yeah," answered Anon.

Lyra hesitated for a moment.

"Okay," Lyra said finally, extending her front hooves to offer a hug Anon gladly accepted. "Have fun and be careful!"

"I always do," lied Anon with a smile.

Spoiled Rich turned towards her daughter, expression turning sour.

"Tiara?"

"Yes mother?" Diamond said slowly, voice rising at the end to express something almost approaching hope.

"Don't disappoint me."

Diamond Tiara looked away in shame, staring at the floor until both adults disappeared behind a corner and even as the school bell rang in the building behind them.

Anon slowly walked up to Diamond, sat next to her, and sighed.

"And it was going to be such a nice day, too," Anon said to nopony in particular.

"You didn't need to do this," Diamond managed to get out, still looking away.

"She told you to get close to me so I would agree to this," Anon said flatly. Diamond didn't respond at first. She was shaking, still staring at the ground. Anon continued, "She would have punished you if I didn't."

At the last part, Diamond flinched.

"I could have figured something out," Diamond grumbled.

Anon sighed again, shoulders sagging.

This… was getting complicated. She didn't know what punishment Diamond Tiara would face if she failed, but Anon couldn't simply leave her to her own fate.

Whatever happens, I've been through worse.

"How…how did you know she would punish me if you didn't agree to go?" Diamond asked hesitantly.

"Experience," Anon answered with a shrug.

At first Diamond gave her a questioning glance, before the realization dawned on her and her eyes widened.

"S-She isn't like that!" Diamond stuttered out. "Mother isn't like the ponies who hurt you! She just… says things," the filly trailed off, trying to avoid the flat look Anon was giving her. "It doesn't matter!"

Anon took a deep breath, fighting the urge to scream at the universe in general.

"You and Silver Spoon are friends, right?" she asked after a minute.

Diamond paused, raising a brow.

"What? Of course we are," Diamond answered, and Anon smirked.

"So," Anon began. "If somepony else said those things to Silver Spoon, would it matter?"

Diamond shrunk and faced away.

Deciding to not push the matter, the jumper gave another sigh. There was still the main issue at hoof.

Spoiled Rich.

"Do you know what she's planning?" Anon asked.

"No." Diamond Tiara shook her head. "She asked about 'that new pony in class' and if I'd made friends with her yet… and I may have exaggerated a few things."

Diamond's ears drooped.

"I just… I just wanted her to be happy with me," she added quietly.

Anon leaned back, scratching her front hoof where one of her scars had just now started to itch.

"I don't think you can," Anon said slowly. "I don't know her but… if she is anything like I think she is, anything like-" Anon cut herself off, letting the sentence hang in the air. "Well, there's nothing anyone can do to make those kinds of people happy."

At least not anything that's worth it, Anon thought, but decided to keep to herself.

"She isn't like that," Diamond hissed. "My mother isn't evil. She loves me, cares for me, and-"

"Then why are you so afraid of her?" Anon asked, head tilted to the side.

The pink filly hesitated, her whole posture lowering. A puzzled expression grew on her face.

"I'm not…afraid," Diamond said, though much quieter this time. "She's just… hard on me because she cares."

Anon only hoped she was right.

She had a bad feeling they were going to find out.

Silver Spoon was already waiting for them when they entered the school house.

Cheerilee was just about finished with roll call when they successfully snuck in. Silver Spoon only needed one quick glance at her friend before she gave a saddened sigh.

"Hey, Dia," she said quietly. "How was it at home?"

The other filly grit her teeth, sat down behind her desk, and looked away - away from her best friend.

"Normal," Diamond answered.

Normal is a strange word. It's the status quo, the familiar with what we're used to.

Sometimes, what we're used to isn't very good.

"Oh," Silver Spoon said.

They didn't talk for the rest of that class.

Anon sat behind her desk, drifting off and on. Her mind was far too abuzz with thought to concentrate on anything. A shame, too, as Cheerilee was really trying to make the history of Griffonian-Equestrian relations seem interesting. She was also using far more visual aid than before, but that only made Anon wonder where she'd gotten so many drawings of sneering, mustachioed griffons.

Again and again, Anon went back to the conversation with Spoiled Rich, one sentence ringing in her mind.

Practically sisters already.

It didn't make any sense to her. Well, there was an explanation, but it was so far-fetched Anon refused to even entertain it.

No, why would a mare like Spoiled Rich want to do anything with me of all ponies? It must be something else.

So, not seeing any alternatives, Anon thought of an explanation that made far more sense.

She probably just wants to make a coat out of my skin.

Well, it made far more sense to her.

Despite the rather grim implications this had for her afternoon, Anon couldn't help but be a little excited.

There was still the issue of Lyra and Diamond being present. Having to hide her jumper powers, while trying not to get peeled like a meat banana by a blood crazed madmare, could be a problem. A plan was needed. Or at least an escape route.

Or maybe another bomb…

Fortunately for the sanity of the local bomb crew - meaning Steel Wing, but in an improvised EOD suit made of pots, duct tape, and wishful thinking - her further planning was interrupted by the school bell.

"Recess, finally!" announced a rather loud orange pegasus filly, before dive-bombing into the river of foals all trying to leave the classroom at once.

"Please, no running in the classroom!" cried Cheerilee, more from habit than any actual hope that it would do anything to slow down the stampede.

Once outside, their little group avoided the swings - after yesterday it was decided that they should leave them alone, preferably forever - and found a new, much more exciting activity.

Gossip.

"Have you seen Dinky?" Silver Spoon said. "She got her cutie mark!"

Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes.

"Yeah and it's pretty lam-" she stopped herself, a glance, who was currently busying herself trying to kick small pebbles into a hole. "I mean, dumb. A few stars. So unoriginal. Almost every unicorn has stars."

"But at least she has one," Silver Spoon whispered sadly, kicking a small pebble straight into the hole, much to Anon's surprise.

"We'll get something better," Diamond said resolutely. "You'll see."

Without paying much attention to it, Silver Spoon sent another pebble right into the hole, while Anon missed again. The green filly raised a brow at this, going to inspect the hole and the pebbles in it, only to get one thrown at her forehead. The mouse living in the hole found their game rather disagreeable and, using a miniature catapult, was now valiantly defending its home.

"What would yours look like, Spring?" asked Silver Spoon.

The filly dodged another stone slung at her by the world's smallest siege engine, only to stare in mute horror and confusion when the mouse upgraded to a trebuchet.

"Spring? Are you even listening?" asked Diamond.

Anon raised a small white flag, hastily made from a handkerchief, and the mouse retreated victoriously into the mouse hole.

"Hmm?" Anon answered, still feeling somewhat dazed and staring in disbelief at the mouse hole.

That's it, Luna definitely did something to my mind.

…

Or they are putting something in the water here? One of those things, definitely.

"You still think my mom is evil or something?" Diamond said.

Anon gave her a look, for a moment contemplating having to explain… whatever that was.

"...Yes."

But only for a moment.

Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes.

"She isn't." The rich filly then hesitated for a second, looking for the right words. "She just wants the best for me so she pushes me hard. It's normal."

Anon looked at her, green eyes boring into hers, before she shrugged.

"If you say so."

"I do," Diamond said sharply. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Anyway, what would your cutie mark look like?"

The jumper paused.

I'll never get one - was the answer, but if she said that it would raise an uncomfortable amount of questions. Cutie marks serve as a reflection of a true name and it's pretty hard to reflect something which doesn't exist. But she figured she should at least give an answer.

"I dunno," Anon said. "Never thought about it."

Anon winded the moment the words left her mouth.

Great. I really need to take acting lessons one of these days, I'm almost as bad as Celestia.

Silver Spoon tilted her head, one ear laying flat against her skull, the other staying up.

"Well, what's your special talent?" she asked, Anon giving her a blank stare in response. "I mean, something you really like doing. Something you wanna be the very best at."

Anon gave it some thought. She liked watching things go boom, but that probably wouldn't go well with the authorities, and anyway was less a talent and more a worrying personality quirk.

She was pretty good at baking, all things considered, but that wasn't something she wanted to do and more something she picked up because she needed too.

After racking her brain for more ideas, there wasn't anything she would say was her special talent. Yes, there were few things she was good at, but nothing she wanted to be great at - nothing she wanted to be the best at.

"Huh, don't think I have a special talent," Anon said after a moment of thoughtful silence.

"Don't worry, we also don't have one," Silver Spoon tried reassuring her, earning a scowl from Diamond.

"We don't have one, yet!" Diamond declared suddenly, the two other fillies turning her way with curious looks.

"What? It's an important distinction," she said, but Silver Spoon simply shook her head, pointing behind the filly.

Behind Diamond Tiara stood the orange pegasus filly from earlier, a determined look settled on her muzzle.

"Ehm, hi?" Anon said. "You wanna sit with us? Or-

"Why are you hanging out with them?" The newcomer blurted out, cutting Anon off and leaving her befuddled.

"Sorry?" Anon asked, turning towards Diamond and Silver for guidance. "I think I'm missing some context here."

Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes at the orange filly, letting out an annoyed huff.

"Scootaloo, go away," Diamond said.

Scootaloo's eyes narrowed as she marched over to Diamond and leaned towards her, jabbing at the earth pony's chest with an outstretched hoof - without actually touching her.

"Why? We aren't good enough for you?" Scootaloo said, wings fluttering angrily on her back. "You don't wanna be around us ugly mud ponies?"

Anon turned. There was a crowd forming. Other foals were forming a circle around them, most of them nodding along every time Scootaloo spoke.

That's a bad sign if I've ever seen one.

Silver Spoon stood up, now nervously standing behind Diamond, probably all too aware of how outnumbered they really were.

"Scootaloo," Diamond's voice was low and somehow still commanding, but Anon could feel the hint of desperation in it. "I'm feeling generous today, so I'm giving you your last chance. Go. Away."

"Or what?" Scootaloo pointed at Anon. "You sic your new lap dog on us?" The orange filly cut her a look. "You know they're just using you, right?"

Anon shrugged, glancing briefly at the foals encircling them, watching the confrontation.

Don't freak out. It's just kids. Don't. Freak. Out.

She hated this. She was surrounded and could do nothing.

"Maybe, maybe not," she said as calmly as possible. "But I do think you should turn it down a notch."

Scootaloo frowned, approaching Anon, who stayed still and kept her expression blank.

"I see how it is," Scootaloo said, before turning around and walking away. "Enjoy this time with your new friends. While it lasts."

"While they still want you," Scootaloo added so quietly Anon suspected she wasn't supposed to hear it.

With that, the foals encircling them slowly went back to what they were doing before, leaving the trio alone again.

"Sorry about that," mumbled Silver Spoon, while pawing at the ground with her front hoof.

"We aren't exactly… popular in class right now," Diamond explained.

Anon sighed. Things were getting better and better by the second.

"Let me guess," she said, facehoofing. "Your parents told you to not associate with them, and they didn't take it well."

Silver Spoon grimaced, avoiding eye contact, while Diamond sighed.

"Basically…" Diamond said.

"We may also have called them names when they wouldn't leave us alone," noted Silver Spoon ever so helpfully.

Anon took a deep breath.

And it was going to be such a nice day, too.

"Dammit," Anon said. "Well, at least they can't do anything during class." She paused. "What's next, anyway?"

The two other fillies exchange a look. A foreboding look. The kind of look a doctor might have when they remember they were supposed to tell a patient that they only had one day left to live - yesterday.

"It's PE."

"Fffff-"

Keep it pg, keep it pg.

"-Fffffuuuidlesticks."

Nailed it.

Cohiberi (non-canon)

Author's Note

Hello!

Long time, no see. Yeah, eh, my fault.

This is a little project I and Soul have been working on for a while now. Through forces of extraordinary coincidence, we been working of fics that both have very similar concept as a building block. One thing led to another and here we are now with crossover with…what do you mean over 20k words? Eh, yeah. We probably got carried away a little - like, just a smidge - along the way. But just to clarify, this is not canon to eitheir story. A canon chapter is in the works, should be done pretty soon unless something unforeseen happens.

Anyway, I hope you find some enjoyment in this brainchild of two people, torturing the English language in terrible, terrible ways. Second part is here: https://www.fimfiction.net/story/522436/libero (another link at the bottom)

Cohiberi (non-canon)

Anon woke up.

This, in and of itself, wasn't exactly that abnormal. One could argue that it had happened every day so far in the jumpers' life - Anon went through great lengths to ensure it stayed so.

No, what was abnormal was the noises from downstairs.

A quick look out of the window revealed it was still dark outside, with the moon hanging high and silvery stars shining down on the land. Indeed, a picturesque night sky was all that could be found outside her window. A vast scape of wonder whose tranquility would surely bestow only a sense of calm to those lucky souls who witnessed it.

Anon shuddered.

She threw her blankets off, slowly tiptoeing–tiphooving? The jumper wasn't sure anymore–towards the doors, but not before taking the True Spork from its storage in the floor. She reached for her neck, making doubly sure that her necklace was still there, the orb serving as yet another safety web for her mind–in more ways than one–as she scanned the room.

It could be just Bon Bon waking up early, Anon reasoned, yet she was still advancing out to the hall, waiting a few seconds in the darkness until her eyes adjusted. Watching. Waiting. Wondering. But Bon Bon would be more careful not to wake anyone up.

A shadow moved on the wall next to her.

With speed borne of years spent defending her life at every turn, she spun with the weapon at the ready, striking out at the unknown attacker and–

A firm hoof stopped the weapon mid swing.

Bon Bon stood there, shushing her with a grave-yet-reassuring look. The jumper froze in confusion before simply nodding once in reply and staying quiet.

Lyra stood in the doorway to their bedroom, right behind Bon Bon. Her eyes were wide, concern plain on her features. That and utter befuddlement. But Bon Bon was stone faced, her expression cold. Well, as much as an expression can be cold when one is holding a flashlight - turned off - in their mouth.

More noises came from downstairs: The creaking of wood, some clanging of metal against metal, and perhaps some faint echoes of a high-pitched voice.

It cannot be one of us, Anon realized.

As Bon Bon pushed past Anon, something glimmered in her front hoof: A brass metal horseshoe adorned with spikes.

Is that a pony version of brass knuckles? The jumper pondered, her face scrunching up in thought before she shook herself and returned to the matter at ha–hoof.

Bon Bon moved. Anon couldn't call the mare’s pace slow, exactly, but she was taking her time. She approached the stairs leading down to the living room, her eyes darting across the halls before stopping on a mirror on one of the walls for a brief second - she had put the mirror there exactly for situation like this, the reflection would show her if anypony is waiting behind the corner to ambush her. After seeing nothing, she moved closer, taking care to avoid the creaky floor boards.

Bon Bon tensed up as something touched her from behind.

Lyra stood there with a detached lyre string bound around her fetlock. Her horn was left unlit, likely for reasonable fear that whoever had broken into their house could spot its glow.

She tapped Bon Bon on the shoulder, gesturing down and then left, nodding meaningfully.

The kitchen, Sweetie Drops realized.

Sweetie Drops withheld her awe as Lyra descended the stairs side by side with her, moving just as fluidly as her. The mares descended the stairs quickly - Lyra’s eyes watering as she withheld a groan of pain - covering each others’ blind spots as if this was something they did every day.

The stairs were a nightmare: No cover and too many angles of approach for the potential attacker. They were too open, which Sweetie Drops only now realized she should have corrected and chastised herself for that very fact. There was nothing she could do with it now, though.

Live and learn, the agent thought.

Hopefully.

Lyra checked the corner behind the stairwell, stopping to see if the shadows would reveal their foe.

Nothing.

Only more noises: The very same clanging and wooden steps as before, if slightly clearer and more audible thanks to their increased proximity. The sounds were definitely coming from the kitchen, Bon Bon could hear that now.

Lyra turned towards Anon, who was waiting atop the stairs with her True Spork at the ready and a determined squint adorning her face. The elder unicorn bade the filly wait with an upraised hoof, to which she reluctantly nodded and took a step backwards.

Together, Lyra and Bon Bon approached the kitchen's entrance, each taking positions at opposing sides of the wall and instinctively covering the others’ blind spots as before.

Bon Bon pointed at her ears, moving them to either side three times. Lyra gave a nod of acknowledgement; She had understood the gesture with completeness:

A signal. Count of three.

One swivel.

Bon Bon tensed up, shivering at the sensation of adrenaline filling her veins. She grit her teeth, every hair on her back standing up.

Two swivels.

Sweetie Drops fought to regain control of her breath, conjuring the mental image of the kitchen in her head. She would have to go around the table and turn right, while Lyra would know to take the left. The enemy would have a second to react with a solid oak table between them. Going around it would take time, potentially too much. A second at most, but while that may not seem like much, it was enough time for an experienced unicorn to summon an offensive spell.

Third swivel.

She couldn't allow the enemy to get that second.

Both she and Lyra took off in one perfectly-synchronized explosion of movement. Bon Bon bit down on the flashlight, causing a cone of harsh white light to suddenly fill the room and hopefully blind the attacker.

She saw them in the kitchen, standing menacingly by the stove. Sweetie Drops rushed around the table.

A quick jab at the throat; enough to hurt and incapacitate, but probably not cause any damage that would be too permanent.

Only, it never landed.

“Pinkie!” Sweetie Drops let go of the pink mare, dropping the flashlight. Pinkie merely bounced back, giving her a wide, bright smile. “What are you doing in our house?!”

To her utter confusion, the pink mare stuck something into her mouth,

"Shhh!" Pinkie hushed, winking conspiratorily. “You’ll wake up Spring.”

It was a cupcake with chocolate strips.

Finally, the agent took a belated glance around, noticing quite a few things in the process:

The smell of baked goods, the bowls strewn around and a small pile of colorful, cone-shaped hats.

Lyra, similarly befuddled by the situation, finally turned on the lights.

The agent took a step back, meeting with Lyra in the doorway before they both stared at the now-fully-revealed giant red banner hanging in their kitchen.

“You have got to be kidding me…” Lyra mumbled, her voice comprised of tones of both dread and the beginnings of horrified realization.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ~~ANON~~ SPRING!

Lyra gave Sweetie Drops a look: the unmistakable desperate look of somepony utterly lost.

What was before them was a party.

A classic Pinkie Pie surprise party, to be exact - just not quite finished yet.

"It's Spring's birthday today!" The party mare said as she bounced in front of the still-very-confused Lyra. "My Pinkie sense went off, telling me it's somepony's super special day!"

The mare stopped mid air, deflating for a second as her puffy mane fell flat.

"But I checked my ledger-" Pinkie Pie pulled out a book from her mane: A tome filled with dates, blueprints and something that–based on the short glimpse Sweetie Drops got of it–looked suspiciously like an elaborate heist plan on how to steal Princess Celestia's cake "-and nopony in Ponyville has any birthday, anniversary, name day or discovers an ancient prophecy of doom for at least the next twenty-four hours."

"Wait, what was the last one?" Lyra piped out before Pinkie shushed her with a charming smile and mysterious wink.

"But, who is the only pony not in my ledger? (yet!)" the pink one asked, to which both other mares in the room backed up, their weapons suddenly feeling very inadequate in their trembling hooves.

"How…how did you do that with your voice?" Sweetie Drops asked while fighting a sudden urge to run and a faint sensation of cosmic dread.

Pinkie Pie–of course–ignored her, merely putting the ledger back from whence it came.

"It's Spring! I don’t have her in my ledger. That means that today must be Spring's birthday!" She whisper-yelled, her mane and smile puffing back up to their usual slightly-unhinged state.

"But why are you in our house?" Lyra managed, despite an unceasing feeling of eldritch horror slowly gnawing at her consciousness. The pink pony’s smile grew wider and wider before she made her reply.

"To prepare the party, duh,” Pinkie answered simply. “But I cannot find enough spoons.”

“What the hell?”

Anon was peeking around the corner, her eyebrow cocked and a small frown on her face. She’d been worried for her caretakers before, but her concern was now replaced by utter bewilderment.

Before Anon could see what was happening, Pinkie Pie jumped on the table, blocking the view with her own body.

“Nothing here!” Pinkie shrieked. “Absolutely no party here!”

Anon cocked her head.

“...Sure?” the jumper said uneasily, shooting a glance at Bon Bon, who simply shrugged.

“Hey Springy! You have a spoon on you?”

Anon shuddered. She had only the True Spork, but …, well, this was the Pink One. Who knew what she could do with it?

“Pretty please?” The pink party pony pleaded pitifully.

Damnit.

The spork manifested in the jumpers hooves as she threw it towards the party mare.

It doesn't work without my powers, anyway. So what’s the worst that could happen?
Pinkie Pie touched the Spork. The jumper felt a sting deep in her bones as reality itself shifted slightly.

Ah, this apparently.

The Spork morphed, changing forms as it violently flew away from Pinkie’s hoof, striking the jumper right in her chest.

Right on the Sun Orb, cracking the artifact. Gold magic leaked out if it like torrents of water.

And then, there was light as the world around her fell.

Bon Bon Heartstrings sat before her kitchen counter, hard at work on attempting to prepare a nice early breakfast.

The key word in that sentence: Attempting.

The curious, friendly, and extremely physically affectionate colt currently attached to her was making that particular venture rather hard. Knight–that being the name of this hug-hungry youth–had propped his front hooves on the countertop, which made him just tall enough to peek his head over and watch what she was doing. He'd quickly found such a stance rather unstable, but had just as speedily remedied that issue by leaning heavily into the side of Bon Bon's barrel.

This, in itself, was not all too immobilizing. What did, however, freeze the mare in place was just how excessively adorable the unicorn looked. The way his ears perked forwards, his eyes shining in their sockets with rapt attention focused towards her actions and his head tilted at just the slightest angle, was simply too distracting.

The former agent had dealt with siren's songs before, and had to complete numerous missions while under heavy stimulus and ridiculous amounts of pressure.

Bon Bon had thought she was well-acquainted with distractions.

She had thought wrong; she was no match for the little foal she had so readily adopted.

So, there the two were, one paralyzed by the other's innocent curiosity while that selfsame individual merely watched on in earnest interest. What didn't help was Bon Bon's supposed ally and wife, Lyra, merely watching them go at it from afar. The earth pony had sent numerous pleas for help her way in the form of somewhat-panicked glances backwards, but only received a winning, smitten smile in response.

Some backup she turned out to be.

The once-agent had to admit, though, that she wasn't truly angry at the situation. Or frustrated. Or even, for that matter, all too inconvenienced.

Mostly, she was overcome with the joy that emerged from realizing her son felt safe enough around her to do this in the first place. Faust knew he deserved that much, at least, and Bon Bon would do her absolute best to ensure that his trust wasn’t misplaced. That she proved herself a threat only to those who would dare bring harm, physical or otherwise, to him.

(Unfortunately)Thankfully, the colt eventually grew bored of the inaction and so slipped down from the counter to wander elsewhere. There was no problem with that; he did have free reign of the house, after all, and he had been constantly exploring it since the day he woke up there.

Still, Bon Bon felt a stab of anxiety from the separation, earnestly watching him as he left her vicinity.

I guess this 'motherhood' thing is really getting to me. The mare let out a defeated sigh before turning her attention back to the cooking supplies she'd been able to bring out. There weren’t many; Knight had become curious soon after she began, so only a mixing bowl and some measuring cups were laid before her. Of all the anxieties I've faced, all it takes is some foal to take care of and suddenly I'm a raving loon.

The earth pony let out a sardonic chuckle at her plight before finally setting to work on the conquest that was making breakfast. A habitual cursory glance around showed Knight completely absent from the room, with Lyra also gone elsewhere. Maybe she followed him? It doesn't really matter.

That was what the ex-agent stoically told herself, doing her absolute best to stamp down the sudden insecurities she found herself with.

An abrupt BOOM! that shook the house itself interrupted that effort, and Bon Bon spun to confront the new threat. She flinched and grimaced as a blinding yellow light shone down through the very floorboards, accompanied by a sound best described as a pained whoomp, the sort of noise a dying gibbon might make.

What in Tartarus is that?!

Whatever it was ended as suddenly as it started.

And then the alarms started blaring.

New noises came from upstairs. A…conversation? A quick, panicked one that mostly consisted of "What happened?" "Get down!" and "Is that a goddamn laser cannon?" With the rest being rather creative curses the likes of which no common Equestrian could dream of creating.

But none of that really mattered to Bon Bon Heartstrings.

What did matter–and indeed, what swiftly became the sole domineering thought in her mind–was the simple fact that her son was upstairs, right where the new noises were coming from.

There are few pegasi that can claim that they broke the sound barrier (and most of them are named Rainbow Dash) but even less earth ponies could hope to accomplish such a feat. Many would even posit the opinion–one, in all fairness, built upon the rather solid foundations of common sense and conventional wisdom–that the very idea of an earth pony breaking the sound barrier by running was ridiculous.

That didn't stop Bon Bon from trying, though.

And for a second, she did think she had broken the sound barrier. What was more, she somehow managed to be faster than the speed of light. Indeed, it seemed she had, in her haste, spontaneously gained Knight’s ability to manipulate the very building blocks of reality to her whims and in the process created some form of spacial rift, or something along those lines.

How else could she explain the fact that there was another her upstairs?

The scene upstairs resembled something out of Discord's wildest dreams. The defenses they’d installed were in full action: Charms, hidden runes, elemental glyphs and all kinds of nasty deterrents for unwelcome invaders they installed with Twilight’s help after the break-in were now firing in tandem.

The turrets in particular–sleek, polished models that Bon Bon had payed good money to have imported–were ablaze with a special kind of life, sending salvo after salvo of magical projectiles and laser beams at their target.

Said target being a furiously-dodging green filly who cursed with every shot fired.

“Do something!” She yelped as one of the laser cannons scorched the floor just next to her. "Turn it off!"

"How?! There's no off button on these things!"

And that was Lyra, holding onto the cannon and trying to pry it open with her magic while scratching her head.

Lyra, who to Bon Bon’s best knowledge, was still downstairs, staring up at the voices in total and absolute confusion.

"Just break them!" Called out…herself? Bon Bon didn't really know anymore.

The other Bon Bon - who probably wasn't her but she wasn't sure - was in the process of rapidly delivering powerful bucks to the cannons, effortlessly turning the meticulously constructed wonders of modern magical theory into scrap metal.

A few quick theories went through Bon Bon Heartstrings’ mind as Lyra - her wife, not the other Lyra - finally ascended the steps to stand next to her.

Time travel?

Not likely, Twilight was locked safely away in her garish castle and it wasn't a Tuesday. But it would explain why the turrets were not firing on the copies - they had the same magic signature as them.

The mirror pond?

Probably also not. She didn't know how it worked, but as far as she’d seen, the resulting clones were incapable of much thought or sapience. Indeed, what haunting memories of the Pink Invasion she dared recall revealed a very limited collection of abilities they’d possessed. Granted, that could have simply been the case for Pinkie Pie, but Bon Bon figured there wasn’t yet enough information about the experience to really consider the possibility. Plus, the pond had been quite thoroughly sealed off, which only further reduced the likelihood of it being the cause of this mayhem.

Body doubles?

Had S.M.I.L.E. sent body doubles to replace her and Lyra? But why would–

Bon Bon’s attention was suddenly drawn to the green filly who performed a neat barrel roll, successfully dodging a laser cannon shot and–

Knight!

The colt sat right in the middle of the chaos, watching it with absolute confusion written plainly all over his face. Laser beams flew past him, some coming far too close for comfort, but thankfully the top-of-the-line targeting systems refrained expertly from hitting a friendly.

Knight’s gaze was set on a constant swivel between the other versions of his moms, the weird green blur, and the defensive systems. He seemed to grow yet more distressed the longer the chaos continued; what began as a befuddled expression soon shifted into a frightened one.

Meanwhile, Anon was in trouble.

The jumper landed on her hooves, but slipped, sliding on the polished, tactically-carpetless floor.

Fortunately for her, the impact was softened by something fluffy. (Unfortunately for Knight, that something was him.)

Anon prided herself on her instincts. Her gut had something which could approximate a built-in danger radar with limited future-seeing capabilities. She didn't know how it worked, just that it did and she would be dead several hundred times over without it.

At that moment, her gut feeling kicked in so violently she nearly did a backflip.

Anon tried her best to get her bearings, but she failed. Something hit her like a bus filled with trucks. She nearly lost her lunch. Anon silently thanked whoever happened to be listening for the surprisingly warm rug she landed on.

Something was wrong. On a deep, fundamental level. She tried to see it. And when she saw it she tried to ignore it, because it could not be right.

The Weave changed shape.

The Weave, the building stone of reality, was moving on its own. Molding, changing, stretching.

A jumper tore holes in it. A jumper manipulated and tricked the Weave. Dirty cheaters was what they were, through and through. Fooling the fundamental rules of reality, that was a jumper’s daily bread and butter.

This…wasn't that.

This was using reality like play dough. Effortlessly moving it to one's own will. She’d heard of jumpers tearing small pieces and using them to create things, but in that case, the Weave shouldn't be cooperating.

Before she had more time to have a crisis, the rug under her stood and stared at her with big, watery eyes.

Oh. Maybe not a rug, after all…

The cannon Lyra was wrestling fired one more shot. With the beam coming straight for her, the jumper prepared to simply phase and avoid the attack.

The Weave moved, and Anon felt her power slipping beyond her grasp..

The next thing Anon knew, there was something impeding her vision. Light gray and shimmering slightly, only somewhat transparent, which gave the world around outside it a washed-out quality. A barrier of sorts, perhaps?

Slowly but surely, the barrier absorbed her released power, growing bigger and brighter by the second thanks to the new energy gained from the jumper.

There was only one appropriate reaction.

“Ah goddammit,” Anon muttered.

Meanwhile, Sweetie Drops kicked another turret, turning it into yet another worthless heap of scrap metal. Someone ran to her.

“Lyra, we have-”

"Imposter!"

And promptly kicked her in the chest.

It wasn’t Lyra.

It was…herself?

Sweetie Drops dodged the next blow right, reeling back and preparing an attack of her own, acting on muscle memory alone.

A quick jab left, followed by the real blow aimed at…her throat. Their throat?

The agents struck with all her strength - agents, plural.

As in both of them.

At the exact same time.

With the same attack.

"Mother. Bucker!" "Faust dammit!"

Sweetie Drops hissed, holding her red and swelling hoof close to her chest. Bon Bon nearly fell over, her eyes watering.

"I’ll show you for this!" "No, I will show you for this!"

Sweetie Drops spun around, kicking with her hind legs and-

"Auch!" "Horseapples!"

Sweetie Drops dropped on the ground, same as the other one. If they kept at it like this, both of them would be unable to walk for a week.

"Who in Tartarus are you?" Sweetie Drops asked, pointing her one remaining healthy hoof at the imposter. "And how did you get into my house? And why are there lasers in it?!"

"Me?" Bon Bon asked. "Who are you!?"

And as if the universe waited for some cue, the barrier around Knight and Anon exploded.

The reality-bending power was let loose, reducing the floorboards into a discolored misshapen mess that would give any interior designer an aneurysm. Pieces of bricks were turned into clouds-of-vaguely-blue. The curtains caught on fire, because of course they did. The railings around the staircase began to melt, despite the fact it was made of wood. The staircase itself turned upside down.

And the turrets started to sing.

Having retreated to the relative safety of the downstairs, Lyra watched the pandemonium occurring. She watched in horror as, crying and screaming, a ball of green and white slowly, painfully, weakly crawled out of the wall.

Lyra did not hesitate. The musician lunged forth and grabbed a flailing hoof, trying her very hardest to pull them out.

She was failing. She couldn't pull them out. She wasn't strong enough.

Somepony ran up to her, grabbed one of the foals, and started pulling with her.

It was herself.

Not taking time to have an existential crisis, the second Lyra grit her teeth and gave a few powerful yanks. Only after both minty mares worked together and synchronized their pulls did the two foals finally slip out of the walls. They were singed, bruised, and covered in soot, but alive.

Anon fell into Lyra’s waiting hooves.

Into the wrong Lyra’s hooves.

And so did Knight.

Lyra's eyes widened in surprise as the soot-covered lump in the vague shape of a foal clutched itself to her chest, burying its muzzle into her fur and whimpering pathetically.

Something wasn't right. Something didn't feel right.

Spring was afraid of physical contact, Lyra could tell. It didn't mean Spring didn't want it, but there was a wall preventing the filly from just going for something as simple as a hug by herself. Even in a situation like this, Spring would flinch or at very least hesitate. She definitely wouldn’t be so eager to bury her face in the mare’s barrel.

It was with this reasoning that Lyra chose a logical, but most unfortunate, course of action:

She pushed the foal away from her.

Not with any force, mind you; not even enough to get the soot monster any meaningful distance away, but simply enough that she could see the foal's face.

Sadly, that was enough for Knight to realize something was very, very wrong.

"Ehm, hey little guy," Lyra said slowly, now that she could see that this foal was a colt and thus probably not Spring. "Are…you alright?"

Knight stared at her, unblinking, his expression shifting to one of fear and betrayal.

"You're not Mommy."

Knight took a few steps back until his rump was against the wall. His breathing became quick and shallow and a few tears started to flow down his cheek. Lyra glanced about worriedly, somehow getting the feeling that she’d done something wrong as a sensation of incredible guilt settled over her. The colt’s current expression hardly helped matters, and the mare began attempting to correct whatever misunderstanding had taken place.

"Don't touch me or I stab you!"

Things weren't going much better for the other Lyra.

At first, Lyra Heartstrings had thought she had it under control.

‘Had’ being the important part of that statement.

Lyra prided herself on her uncanny ability to read ponies like books, and for good reason; she was freakishly good at it.

But Lyra didn't exactly need to be overly skilled in the matter to see that the green filly threatening her with a spoon was, in fact, quite miffed.

The mare didn't know when it went wrong; she’d simply approached, intending to help the foal get back onto their own hooves, as any self-respecting adult would do.

She didn't expect an attempted stabbing the second she came into spork range.

“Please calm down, everything-” Lyra attempted to say as the filly backed further away, her green eyes focused on her.

Lyra gulped nervously, watching them and allowing herself to peer a little deeper.

She was very good at discovering what others thought. She was so good at it, in fact, it was scary sometimes. Reading ponies’ expressions could have been her special talent, if she’d never discovered her love for music.

But the gift was a double-edged sword, and not only because it freaked other ponies out when she could tell what they thought before they said it out loud. The true curse was being able to know the things ponies wouldn't say out loud, but think anyway.

The way this green filly was watching her, with her eyes darting between her throat and legs, the lowered stance, and the utter coldness behind those green orbs… The foal saw her as a threat, an obstacle. Something to either maneuver around or…dispatch.

A foal, a school aged filly probably not much older than Apple Bloom, was right now internally debating if she should go for the throat, or if the legs with their juicy arteries would make a better target.

And the most terrifying thing about it was the calm; The filly wasn’t panicking. All of it came from the rational, near-clinical thoughts of weighing risks against gains as she made plans on how to murder her if she got in her way. Like all of this was normal, something she dealt with on a regular basis.

Worryingly, maybe that wasn't too far off from the truth.

“Please calm down, I don’t-” Lyra began before the filly callously interrupted her.

“You’re not Lyra,” Anon said, slowly backing off until her back met the wall.

Or, in this case, Knight, who was backpedaling so he could hide in a corner away from the mare that looked like Mommy but was mean to him.

“I don't want to hurt you. Nobody here wants to. Please. I-”

“It's going to be alright, you’re-”

Both Lyras stopped as they finally registered each other’s voices and their gazes met. There was a moment of brief realization and an “Oh,” from both of them as all the puzzle pieces fell into place.

“Switch?” Lyra offered.

“Yeah,” the other Lyra agreed. “This was silly. But at least nopony is hurt.”

And just then, the stair’s railings fell apart and down tumbled two agents, still viciously wrestling each other.

“Let go! “No, you let go!”

The two mares landed in a flailing heap. Lyra (both of them) could only watch in mute horror as their fiance and wife respectively tried to strangle each other.

‘Tried’ being the word of import here: The beige mares were unable to do much, as they had to release their grip on each other and gasp for air at the same time.

“Enough!”

The agents froze, their hooves lowering as the Lyras gave them pointed glares.

“But-” Sweetie Drops attempted, a chair leg she’d tried to use as an improvised bludgeon clattering to the ground.

“No buts!” Her Lyra - and Sweetie Drops was sure it was her Lyra for reasons she couldn't fully explain even if she tried - interrupted her. “No more fighting! And apologize, both of you!”

Bon Bon’s jaw clenched and her shoulder sagged. Many thoughts began flowing through her mind like the waters of a tainted stream only now becoming clear.

Why did she attack? Why did she let her emotions take control of her? She wanted to protect Knight, but the poor colt was traumatized enough without more violence happening around him. She’d fought to restrain herself and succeeded before, so why was it so hard now? And just who were these strangers? Why did they look so similar to them? Where on Equus–or beyond–had they even come from?

So much was going through her head, in fact, that she never saw the sneak attack coming.

Sweetie Drops had a lot going through her head.

Where were they? They’d jumped, she’d deduced as much, but to where? An alternate Equestria? Sweetie Drops knew enough from Celestia to not trust anything here - Anon’s scars were plenty proof of that. Jumping was dangerous; other worlds were dangerous. Standing here and doing nothing was dangerous. What horrors could lurk in this world?

So much was going through her head, in fact, that she threw caution to the wind and lunged at her opponent when she spotted the opening.

What happened next was a blur of screaming, action, and more screaming,

Sweetie Drops attacked. Bon Bon deftly dodged, but the attack had too much speed and force behind it to simply end there.

Anon watched as it came her way.

She didn't panic - she knew she was too slow to dodge, but what are a jumper's powers good for if not for this? A simple teleport should be enough to get her out of harm's way.

Behind her, Knight cried out, seemingly in pain.

The Weave shifted again. A barrier rose between her and Sweetie Drops.

Anon started to panic.

In a flash of white light, the foals vanished.

Dash between the shadowy trees.

Duck under the plentiful brambles.

Dodge your assailant.

I do believe I told you this was going to happen, sooner or later.
You ridiculous fools just can't learn from your past mistakes.
Why did you ever trust them?

NO! MOMMY'S GOOD! I LOVE HER!

SHE WOU–

PAIN!

Erupts from your hind end.

Gracelessly fall to the forest's floor.

Whimper as the shadows play with your vision.

That is honestly so supremely stupid it is funny.
You legitimately just ran into a tree.
Must I present any more proof of your idiocy?

Crawl under a nearby fern.

Try desperately to process the information.

Make sense of the events.

Why were there other ponies? Why'd they start fighting? Why am I here?[/size

WHERE'S MOMMY?!

How on Equus have you not gained an ounce of sense yet?

ATTACKER! GREEN!

Watch as the strange green filly comes to a stop nearby.

Observe her flick her black tail and give a cursory glance around.

Tense as her gaze passes over your badly-hidden form.

She is going to see you, moron.
Your white coloration acts as a camouflage that is about as effective as your dumb skull.

MAYBE SHE'S FRIENDLY!

No. Not possible.

For once, I agree with Knight.

Flinch away as she takes a few steps forward.

Though, I would like to add that such an idea is unbelievably unrealistic.
Is everypony just a potential friend for you to cuddle?

Rapidly back away as she comes even closer.

NO.

Oh? And who, pray tell, is the exception?

PAIN!

Bite back a cry as you accidentally step on a sharp rock.

YOU! YOU'RE MEAN!

Defensively curl up as she brushes the foliage aside.

Ouch. That almost offended me.

She's talking!

“Er...hey there, bud. How's it going?...God, I’m bad at this.”

Apprehensively wait for a blow.

How is it going? Well, I am in a room surrounded by absolute dimwits with all the mental capacity of a disheartened slug.

HE'S BEING MEAN TO ME!

I WANT MOMMY!

NOT A BIG PONY...?

Fillies usually aren't, cretin. I would say she is not that much older than ourselves.

Cautiously stand up.

Gasp as you falter and collapse back to the ground.

Flinch away when she lifts her foreleg.

Brace! Plead for mercy!

Yes, that is an agreeable course of action.

“Please–no! I’m sorry! Don’t…”

Blink as the hoof stops several inches away.

Warily watch as she gives a reassuring smile.

Flick your ears as she speaks softly.

“D'you...uh...want some help up?”

AH-HA!

SHE IS FRIENDLY!

Silence, fool.
You don't know that.
You don't know anything.

She doesn’t…look very scary.

SHE'S NOT BIG!

I fail entirely to see how that is relevant.
She is going to attack you. You know this. There lies no doubt.
It is only a matter of when.

NO! SHE'S NICE! SHE WANTS TO HELP!

Tentatively take her hoof.

Gasp lightly as she hoists you up.

Retreat backwards when she eyes you.

This whole situation is ill-advised. You are all nincompoops.
Please grow some sense for once.

Shh! She's talking!

“Well, so, if you hadn't noticed, we're kinda in the middle of the Everfree forest.”

WHAT?!?! DANGER!!!

Lock your legs in sudden fear.

Fight to restrain yourself from bolting.

Gaze about your surroundings with newfound caution.

“...And I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible. I would teleport us out, but that hasn't been too reliable lately. Or really ever, but especially now. So, eh, tough luck.”

That smile looks...playful.

Nay, fool. It is clearly predatory. Have you gone blind?

NO! SHE'S FRIENDLY!

Nod your agreement as she heads off.

Gasp in time with her as you both hear a dry, rattling howl.

Speedily light your horn as the sound of cracking twigs draws nearer.

Timberwolves!

DANGER!!

Quick, you dimwit! Use the shield!

WHERE'S MOMMY?

Silence! Let the mature ones handle it!

Whirl around to face the first wolf that bursts into the clearing, followed eagerly by its comrades.

Pause to quirk an eyebrow as the filly performs a well-executed facehoof, muttering softly to herself.

"Really?! This again?!"

No time for that!

SHIELDS! NOW!

For once, I agree with Stupid. Be quick about it!

I WANT MOMMY!

Please be quiet. I must focus.

Grit your teeth as a sizable sphere materializes around you and the filly.

Breathe out in relief when it appears just in time to intercept the first lunge.

Whip around to face her as she lets out a loud gasp.

"Aw, [redacted], what the [redacted]!"

Blink blankly back when she looks at you quizzically.

"Wait, did I seriously just get censored?"

Tilt your head in total confusion.

...?

And what could she possibly mean by that?

WHAT?

"[redacted]! [redact-dac-dacted]! [redadedacedydacted]! [bleep]! Holy [bleeep], I'm getting censored! That’s definitely a first! Wait, how’s that supposed to work?"

Edge away from the filly.

Quietly question her sanity.

Flinch back when her horn starts violently glowing.

...What in Tartarus...?

"No no no! Get rid of it, get rid of it! The [bleep] shield! Get rid of it!"

ANGER!

Tearfully stumble away from her.

Pin your ears at the increased volume.

Light your horn once more.

Okay! Don’t be angry!

LOOK! MOMMY!

Instinctively remove the shield as two mares emerge from the thicket.

Squint in confusion and fear as two more follow behind them.

Totter backwards as the remaining timberwolves snarl and advance.

It's the others! From earlier! That were fighting!

MOM! MOMS! MOMMY!

I would like to take this moment to remind all you imbeciles that the wolves are still closing in and we are in incredible dang–

MOMMY! THEY'RE HERE!

HURRY!

But what if they fight?

Hello? Anypony? That one looks like it is getting pretty close!

THEY WON'T FIGHT!

THEY'RE FRIENDS NOW!

YEAH!

Watch as the mares and their duplicates gallop straight towards you.

Wince when they effortlessly blast apart the wolves foolish enough to get in their way.

Perk up when Mommy calls out to you in her wonderful, calming voice.

"Knight! Spring! We're coming!"

That is nice and all, but I should like to point out that there is still a ravenous beast blocking the way and he looks like he would be all too happy to tear you nitwits to shreds.
That is unacceptable, for it is indeed my job to do so.
If you would not mind, I would like to get moving? Soon?

MOMMY!

“MOMMY!”

MOM!

Take bounding leaps towards the mares.

Not that way!!

Abruptly stop in your tracks as its slavering jaws draw near.

UH-OH!

Really?! That is all you have to say?

Cry out as you're too slow to summon a shield.

No! NO!

Stumble back as it makes a swipe and leaves a cut on your muzzle.

Pant madly as it doesn't do that.

Blink in shock when the claws simply phase through your flesh.

What? How did…

Seize up in reaction to a tingling sensation.

Tense every muscle in your body in response.

Fight back against the unwelcome feeling.

NO! IT HURTS!

It doesn't hurt…

That is not what he is speaking of.
If you would be so kind as to grow a pair of eyes, you would see that your supposed 'friend' is currently assaulting you.

Cry out as the filly clutches at your barrel.

You can even see from her eyebrows just how livid she is.

Flinch away when the wolf takes another swipe.

NO! SHE'S JUST CONCENTRATING!

Gasp in confusion as it simply goes through like last time.

They're everywhere! We're surrounded!

You must bring the shield back! Now!

NO! MOMMY! HELP!

It is the only way!

Light your horn once more in a desperate frenzy.

Hurry, fool! Use your shields! Now!

Lock terrified eyes with the filly as her muzzle opens in the beginnings of a protest.

NO! STOP! MOMMY'S HERE!

Look one last time at the distant mares.

They're too far!

NO!!

Yes! Finally you see sense!

A blur of green and black.

A blinding flash.

Darkness.

You failed.

Bon Bon Heartstrings paced the grassy ground of the clearing. She had been doing so for long enough that a streak of eroded dirt was beginning to appear, marking her path. Back and forth she went, plodding ceaselessly from one end of the hilltop to the other.

He's gone.

Distant voices echoed from somewhere far away, but she paid them no mind. The mare was far too enthralled in her own world of worry to so much as notice the others in the area. A lively conversation was taking place, one she could take no part in.

She lacked the capacity for anything but pacing and anxious thought at the moment.

You were too late.

Sudden snarling erupted from behind her amidst shouts of alarm. An enterprising timberwolf had returned and was now attempting to get the jump on her, it seemed. Bon Bon didn't so much as flinch when it sprinted straight towards her, still absorbed in deep thought and still processing the situation.

Too late to save him.

Again.

The mare performed a vicious one-legged buck, connecting solidly with the stolid wolf's face and reducing it to a pile of toothpicks in an instant. She blinked abruptly as a familiar face–her own, in fact–came into focus, approaching the top of her hill.

The agents thoughtfully stared at each other for but a few seconds before Bon Bon exhaled shakily and resumed her agitated pacing. With the way her mind was at the moment–a storm of worried thoughts and self-deprecating comments the likes of which would usually be found only in the midst of mythology–the earth pony simply couldn't find it within herself to care.

Finally, she let out a sound that was halfway between a frustrated huff and a distraught sob, sitting down with her head bowed in resignation. Bon Bon's ear twitched absently as the rustle of grass to her immediate right revealed her alternate self sitting also, but she still refrained from lifting her head to so much as glance in her direction.

"I'm assuming you can already guess as much, but it was different that time." Sweetie Drops' voice was official and impassive, her words delivered with a sense of utmost formality. A stoic mask to hide her own dismay, no doubt. Bon Bon appreciated the effort, though she could still see straight through it.

"You said Spring is a Jumper, right?" A terse nod greeted Bonnie's halfhearted glance upwards, but Sweetie remained staring out into the trees, avoiding eye contact for reasons the former understood all too thoroughly. "That definitely wasn't a teleport, so it must have been her jumping; there's no other reasonable explanation." Another nod, then the two sat in silence.

For a time.

"I'm sorry." The phrase was curt, but Bon Bon still caught the waver in her other self's voice. She would have responded then, but had the sense that Sweetie wanted to say more. Several uncomfortable moments later, she was proven correct, still staring vacantly at the grass below and fighting back tears. "None of us meant for this to happen. It was only by some freak accident we ended up here in the first place. If I had jus—"

Sweetie Drops choked suddenly, cutting herself off with a pained grimace. Bon Bon waited patiently for her to finish, only half-present on the hill in the first place.

"I should have been more reasonable. We all could have been more level-headed about this whole thing. If I'd only known..." An odd feeling emerged within Bonnie's chest as she lifted her head once more to make eye contact with her twin. What she saw was in many ways a reflection of her own feelings, different but somehow the same.

Hesitation coated every fiber of Sweetie's being, directed towards what she was about to say next, but she pushed through regardless:

"What happened to him?"

Bon Bon clenched her eyes and gritted her teeth, scarcely able to hold back a pained whimper as images of her colt's beaten and used body flooded her brain. Some pragmatic part of her realized that Sweetie Drops must have known the answer to her own question, at least to some degree. Bonnie's thoroughly-trained agent instincts wanted her next words to be a succinct, precise, detached summary of events. A brief surge of information to catch her fellow agent up to speed, just like she had done countless times in the past.

"Everything."

And that was all she managed to get out before bursting into distraught, heaving sobs, the memory of her last failure flashing cruelly inside her head. She only wanted to hold him now, as she had back then. Back on the airship she had at very least known that, whatever execrable things had been done to him, he was safe. That he was with her and she would not let events repeat themselves.

With Knight's catatonic body in her forelegs, Bon Bon had sworn to never let anything happen to him again.

And she'd failed.

Lied.

Her oath now lay broken in pieces scattered about her hooves, much like Knight had been.
Bon Bon hardly noticed the tentative, consoling hoof resting itself onto her shoulder. Sweetie Drops sighed deeply past what sounded like a lump in her throat, bowing her head in expression of their shared sorrow.

The agents sat there for a time, both deep in two very different yet similar kinds of thought as the forest breathed around them. A stray glance revealed their respective special someponies conversing some distance away, perhaps even keeping a watchful eye on them to ensure they didn't battle it out again. Neither Lyra had to worry about that, though; Both earth ponies' hooves and legs were throbbing ceaselessly even now from their brief, senseless scuffle.

Gradually, the mourning mother gathered herself up, just as she had done those weeks prior. Bon Bon sniffled but once and was still, hurriedly drying her face with a foreleg as she lifted her head for the final time.

"Is there anything we can do? To find out where they are?" Sweetie Drops pursed her lips at this, thoughtfully scuffing a hoof against the grassy ground as she mulled it over. The faintest spark of hope began to grow in Bon Bon's barrel as the silence continued, but she did her best to stamp it down and prepare for disappointment.

"Not really," the preparation was vindicated, "but if somepony in your world knows about The Weave, there's a chance." It was Bon Bon's turn to mull things over and she did so with vigor, still attempting to mitigate the insistently-increasing speck of optimism.

"Princess Celestia is a possibility," she finally answered, "or maybe Princess Twilight." The other agent seemed greatly surprised at this, for whatever reason.

"Princess Twilight?" But Sweetie shook her head in response to Bonnie's raised eyebrow, simply waving a hoof in dismissal. "Oh, sure, whatever. Does she still live in Ponyville?" A simple nod was her reply, to which both mares stood in sync, turning to face the way they'd entered the clearing. Sweetie Drops eased into a slow gallop, wincing imperceptibly as her sore hooves protested such a course of action. "We'll start there, then."

A sidelong glance revealed Bon Bon's face set in stone, with the other agent seeming mostly recovered and back in business. The Lyras noticed their approach soon enough and popped up to follow without question, sliding into place just behind their determined lovers.

Together, the mares made their way out of the forest, their crystalline goal in plain sight just above the dismal canopy and one prevailing thought present in all of their minds:

I hope they're okay.

Daisy bent down, gripping her fierce enemy in an iron grasp

With precision only a lot of practice can give, the mare took out the pesky weed from her precious strawberry patch.

Of course, pulling a weed out from the wet soil was relatively easy. Doing so without harming any of her flowers around it was the hard part.

Her job done, Daisy looked over her now weed free garden, smiling contentedly as she wiped sweat from her brow. It was much warmer today than she had expected, but now-

"Good day to you."

The stranger's voice sounded from behind Daisy. It was a mare's voice, Daisy could hear as much, but it had an unusual quality. Gravely and coarse and very crackly. Almost sounding like a fire in the background.

Daisy felt a gust of warm air. Suddenly, it got much hotter.

But the gardener was preoccupied, her attention fully on the last vine she had missed, hiding between her few pea plants, almost trembling in fear before her.

"Ehm?" Daisy said, distracted. "Oh, good day, ya need something?"

Daisy didn't turn to face the stranger, but she could hear her hum to herself - it almost sounded like a gas stove left on.

"Yes,” Another gust of warmth hitting Daisy as the mysterious mare spoke.”You wouldn't happen to see a small filly around here? Green, black mane, has a tendency to cause explosions?”

Daisy dug into the soil, successfully uprooting the last vine.

“Well, I don't know about any lost foals.” With a grunt of satisfaction, the gardener tossed the plant on the pile with all the others. “But try asking Princess Twilight or one of the other Elements. Filly causing explosions seems right up their alley.”

There was a moment of thoughtful silence from the stranger. Daisy started smelling smoke - had she forgotten something in the oven, maybe?

“I see,” the stranger said slowly. “Thank you, my little pony.”

Daisy gave her a little wave, before suddenly freezing. There was something very familiar about those words.

Daisy spun around, looking for the stranger.

But there was nopony there. Only a few burn marks on the road.

And a few shards of a yellow rock, faintly glowing gold.

With a blinding flash and a somewhat-familiar dying gibbon noise, reality itself was once again torn asunder despite its vehement protests. A gaping tear about a cart's length wide was violently ripped, hovering there in the air for the few seconds it took to spew out the travelers like so much garbage.

Two small foals came tumbling out the gap.

One—green-coated with a black mane—was quite well-versed in performing exactly this sort of stunt and accordingly was able to land somewhat on her hooves, stumbling only a little. Anon shook her head dazedly and looked around in confusion for a few seconds before realization dawned on her and she adopted a ready stance, prepared for anything this new universe could throw at her.

And then the other foal–pure white from horn to hoof–being significantly less used to this mode of transportation, landed right on top of her.

This was only the start of their troubles.

The green-coated filly crawled out from under her unwilling travel companion and took a cursory glance around, feeling a pit form in her stomach.

This is a military encampment.

Anon had several reasons for coming to this conclusion: The tents, barbed fire, sand bags, general air of doom and misery and a large amount of siege weapons strewn around them didn't exactly leave much to the imagination…

…and the soldiers standing in a circle around them, waving sharp objects in their faces were another clue.

In spite of the inherent, obvious danger, the jumper couldn't help but take a disgruntled glance at the reddish sky, shaking a hoof at it in a show of anger.

Yeah, I hate you too, world!

It was at that precise moment that the armored ponies leapt into action. Anon tensed further, readying herself as the closest enemy came yet nearer and robotically swung his spear.

The jumper deftly ducked the attack and sprung forth, noting with confusion the strange way these ponies moved. It was as if they were nothing more than puppets dangled on strings, lurching around with finely-controlled yet highly-predictable motions.

Mind control? The helmets could have something to do with that...

A loud cry from behind nearly caused Anon to freeze in realization, which in turn made her narrowly dodge another strike from her combatant. She took an alarmed glance back, feeling her eyes bulge when they witnessed several of the armored ponies close in on her accidental companion.

Said colt was speedily backing away to where the portal had been before it closed, frantically sweeping his gaze across his surroundings as his horn lit up.

Anon felt a stab of pure panic upon seeing the dreaded light grey glow.

No! Not those barrier things again!

Luckily, Knight's gaze was drawn to her visage before he could summon anything and he hesitantly powered down his horn.

Unluckily, the short exchange lasted just long enough for the enemies to close in. The white colt was scarcely able to return his stare before one of the ponies lunged, easily pinning him to the barren ground and slipping a ring around his horn.

Anon would have gasped in shock, but found herself preoccupied in fending off the flurry of attacks that then came from the ponies around her.

Anon dodged, phasing for a brief moment to avoid a thrown spear.

Her shoulders relaxed and she lowered her stance as her mind raced to find a way to clear another wave of attacks without getting hit.

She could do this. This was her element, her bread and butter.

Anon smirked.

Dodging, phasing, and teleporting, the filly wove through the offense with practiced finesse. The enemy didn't make it easy, however; each opponent moved in perfect sync, lining up their shots and evading each other's with such exactness that it seemed they were collectively sharing a single brain.

Suddenly, everything froze when a sharp voice cut through the commotion, with the soldiers all stopping as one and standing to attention.

"Enough!"

Anon landed stiffly from her mid-air roll, panting slightly as she warily searched the area around her. The crowd of armored ponies parted, allowing a single mare through. This figure had scars covering her body, with the most prominent one being what was once a deep gash stretching from her forehead, across her muzzle, and to her chin.

That wasn't what caught the jumper's attention, though: What the filly was immediately surprised to observe was the mare's slightly-transparent body, which refracted the light that entered it in a display that would have been dazzling were it not so dismal and dulled. Her eyes, too, with their crystalline appearance, seemed aching to shine like radiant suns rather than form the cold glower they did now.

"By order of the mighty King Sombra, you are to be taken as a prisoner of war." The mare glared harshly, but the longer Anon studied her, the more it resembled instead the dead, empty gaze of someone who'd lost all hope. "If you surrender now and cease resisting, we will escort you to the prison where you'll simply rot until the end of your days." Here, the once-shimmering pony reached behind her to roughly grab something out of view. "If you don't, though?"

The jumper's blood ran cold as the mare turned back, dangling a chained, gagged and thrashing Knight from her hoof as she smirked sinisterly.

"We'll make your little friend here wish he'd never been born."

One look at the colt's terrified-yet-utterly-fruitless wriggling was all it took for Anon to slump in defeat.

Well…shizzle-

Wait, I can curse again!

Shit!

Anon was cold.

The shackles they'd slapped on her were freezing, as if they stored them in liquid nitrogen when they weren't in use to inflict that much more pain on the wearer. The barred window had long been cracked, its broken panes doing absolutely nothing to keep the chilling breeze out of her cell. Said cell was made so that every surface seemed specifically designed to suck away any trace of warmth. It was a miserable place of horror, where no joy survived.

In other words, it was repurposed army barracks.

And the endlessly-thrashing white colt chained to the wall across from her was hardly helping matters.

"Save the effort. We're not getting outta here anytime soon." Anon said, tugging at the chains. She suspected she could get them off at the price of her hooves getting pretty badly scratched, but that was only part of their trouble. From her experience, escaping the cell itself wasn't the hard part, but getting away without being caught was.

And now that her reality-bending powers were useless—the nullification ring they'd placed around her horn worked on those too, apparently—their best bet was to bide their time and wait for an opportunity.

Doing so likely wouldn't be too difficult; Anon had a few tricks up her metaphorical sleeve and, from what she'd seen, the mind-controlled guards didn't look all that bright. The schedules the guards were using were rigid, using the same route on every patrol. If they timed it right, they could get away.

But there was the issue: They. She wasn't alone in this.

Anon took another glance at the colt.

The jumper didn't especially know what to think about him.

It was a kid. A child. And now, by her fault, that kid was a prisoner of war at the mercy of a mind-controlled army of obvious evil.

And not just any kid. Bon Bon’s and Lyra’s kid.

A hollow chuckle escaped the jumper. The pair was looking to adopt back in her Equestria, right? Maybe this was the foal they were supposed to end up with if she didn't enter the picture.

She basically stole his home twice.

But he has powers.

Was he a jumper? No, what he did definitely wasn't jumper power.

Maybe the opposite of a jumper?

Her further musings were unfortunately interrupted as the outside world found out that being together was too boring and decided to shake things up a little.

The sirens went off.

Anon stood up in her chains as much as she could, trying to reach the window. Was there an attack? Some other prisoner escaping?

And then the cracks sounded in the distance.

It was a strange sound. Sharp, distinct. The closest thing to it was thunder, but somehow more pronounced. Heavier.

The soldiers outside started to gallop. Organized as they were, they seemed like busy worker ants. Most of the soldiers disappeared into buildings, but few instead ran towards some strange constructions under camouflage netting, which were promptly torn away, revealing giant, dark crystals - glowing with inner power.

And then the crystals started firing.

Anon couldn't see exactly what the crystals were targeting- but a sudden pressure wave rocketed the whole building. A wall of air hit Anon, lifting the foal of her hooves and onto the cold floor, the chains digging into flesh.

The realization hit.

We are getting shelled.

Another realization came after.

They have goddamn magical artillery!

Also magical counter battery measures.

Trying to ignore the throbbing came from her front hoof, the jumper thought. More explosions came from outside as more shelles managed to squeeze through. Poor Knight whimpered and cried out through his gag with each one.

The one firing had to be close - Anon could hear the crack of the artillery battery firing before the actual shell landed. She couldn't identify individual shots, and trying to guess the distance based on how long the shot traveled wasn't exactly viable anyway, considering she was dealing with magical artillery, so the ballistics were probably wonky. But it shed some light on their situation.

This was a frontline - or maybe even a siege. Two sides just throwing fire on each other, until one of them breaks. Considering the level of encampment they were in, it must have gone for some while.

Their prison shook again - another shell went off nearby. More whimpering and crying from Knight. She didn't blame the poor kid. This was out of their hoof. A lottery. One unlucky shot - or lucky, depending on the perspective - and the whole barracks would be gone up in flames. The best she could do was try to think about something else.

Anon cursed under her breath. She should have paid more attention to their surroundings when she got the chance. Now even if they managed to escape, they would still be hopelessly lost in enemy territory. And this background of artillery only made it much harder.

Or did it?

No patrols outside during shelling. Only the soldiers crewing the crystals.

Of course, there would still be positions manned outside - waiting in case of an enemy attack. But those probably wouldn't aim inside the encampment.

The best time to escape and slip away.

Slowly but surely, a plan began to form.

PART TWO: https://www.fimfiction.net/story/522436/libero

Chapter Twenty-One: Dodgy Dodgeball Drudgery

Anon held a sigh.

Why can't I just keep my stupid mouth shut?

Cheerilee stood in front of the two rows of foals. A white headband held her mane back and a whistle was hanging around her neck.

There was a reason for the sudden appearance of those accessories. A hellish, terrible and frightening reason, but a reason nonetheless.

PE.

"Don't worry," Silver Spoon whispered, leaning towards Anon. "Maybe it won't be so bad."

Cheerilee cleared her throat, ending the murmur from the class as she pulled a red ball from behind her back.

"Dodgeball," she said, and half the class died inside.

Diamond Tiara turned and glared at her friend. Silver gave her an apologetic look.

"Sorry," Silver Spoon said.

Anon raised a brow.

"How bad is it?" she asked.

Diamond Tiara shrugged.

"For us? Very." She pointed at Scootaloo doing what could have been interpreted as the victory dance of a hitherto undiscovered tribe. "Scootaloo is definitely the biggest threat. She's fast, accurate, and holds a grudge against us."

Silver Spoon nodded, rubbing a spot on her shoulder.

"I think I'm still sore where she hit me last time," Silver mumbled, more to herself than anypony else. "And she also broke my glasses."

"But we did get her in trouble for that," Diamond offered weakly.

"Oh yeah, we did," Silver Spoon blanched as she realized what she just said. "Eh, you think she'll still want revenge for that, too?"

Anon gave a deep sigh.

And it was going to be such a nice day, too.

From the corner of her eye, Anon noticed Cheerilee bringing a box full of colored vests.

Wait, are these team colors? For dodgeball?

The filly paused, muzzle scrunching with effort as she tried to remember something.

"What are the rules?" Asked Anon suddenly.

Diamond Tiara shot her an incredulous look.

"You don't know the rules for dodgeball?" she asked.

Anon waggled her hoof. She remembered some things, but nothing about teams and different colored jerseys. And this was pony dodgeball to boot. For all she knew, the ball was filled with concrete and used as a bludgeon.

"Humor me, please."

Silver Spoon shrugged while pushing her glasses further up her muzzle.

"We're playing in multiple teams," she started. "The goal is to eliminate all the opposing enemy players by hitting them with a 'loaded' dodgeball. To 'load' a ball, you need to pass it between at least two players without touching the ground. Usually by throwing it between two teammates. Intercepting and catching balls thrown by the enemy players counts as well."

"Why do we have to do that, anyway?" Asked Diamond while tapping at her chin with her front hoof. "Why not just throw it?"

Silver Spoon stopped, mulling it over for a second.

"Cheerilee's addition. Probably some lesson about teamwork," she said, waving her off. "Anyway, if you get hit by a 'loaded' dodgeball, you're out, unless somepony catches it before it touches the ground."

Well, we are screwed.

Anon was pretty good at dodging stuff. She knew from experience that she was fast enough to avoid a bullet when it came down to it.

But, embarrassingly, she was very bad at catching. Trying to do so went against her every instinct.

And then there was the whole other thing.

Anon sighed and looked at her front legs. More accurately, at what was at the end of them.

Stupid hooves…

She could use magic of course. But while she’d improved her control over her magical grip, and could hold even delicate and fragile objects without much issue, that didn't mean it came easily. To actually catch anything, she would need to stand still and wait for her magic to take hold, and that seemed like a bad idea if the objective was to avoid getting hit.

And jumper powers were not an option for obvious reasons. The chance of being discovered and the consequences that followed were far too great to risk it all on a child's game.

No, she would have to do without them this time.

"Now, please form four teams of four, one team for each corner," Cheerilee announced to the crowd of foals.

The reaction was immediate. Groups were forming left and right around the trio of fillies, leaving them an island among the moving bodies.

Next to them, from a group that had already formed, a snow white hoof shot up.

"Miss Cheerilee!" called out Sweetie Bell. "There aren't enough of us for four teams."

Cheerilee's brow scrunched. She did a quick count of heads of all the present.

"You're right, Sweetie Bell," Cheerilee said. "Is anypony willing to go as a team of three?" she asked.

The class fell silent for several seconds before the voice of Diamond Tiara rang out.

"We will!"

Silver Spoon backed off a little, a confused look on her muzzle.

"Wait, we do?" she asked her friend, who shrugged in response.

"Yeah, all the others want us to lose," Diamond explained. "A fourth teammate would just be a relay-billy."

Silver Spoon tilted her head.

"I think you mean liability," she said.

"That too," Diamond affirmed with a serious nod.

From behind the trio, Cheerilee stepped forward between the newly formed teams, clearing her throat before speaking. When the idle chatter continued, a whistle rang out, causing everypony to cringe - but getting their attention.

"If everypony is ready," Cheerilee said, spitting out the whistle. "Please take your vests and go to your positions."

Let's do this.

On the playing field - a mostly flat piece of land behind the school, just next to the old playground - four teams gathered in their designated corners. Their coloured vests contrasted against the grassy ground.

Well, most of them did, anyway.

The green vests, worn by three ponies, didn't contrast against the grass. But that was all well and good with them, as they needed every advantage they could get, and at this point camouflage couldn't hurt.

Like a general before battle, Silver Spoon kneeled down on the ground, taking a hoof-ful of soil and examining it with grim determination.

She came to the same conclusion the rest of her team already arrived at.

"We're totally getting trounced," Silver Spoon said.

"Silver!" Diamond Tiara admonished. "Try to think positively!"

"I'm positive we're going to get trounced," Silver Spoon deadpanned.

Diamond Tiara, now tiaraless, facehoofed. The filly had to give up her usual headwear, as Cheerilee was not allowing jewelry during PE for safety reasons. All she had now in terms of accessory was the green identifying vest, something she was very annoyed by, considering how much it clashed against her fur.

Consequently, that was the exact opposite problem Anon had with her vest, which wholly disappeared in her already green fur, save the black buttons on the front, causing her to look like a misshapen, radioactive snowman with a dead crow on its head instead of a hat.

But at least the vest had one other use.

Anon's hoof subconsciously reached for the sun orb hidden under the flimsy fabric.

It's safe. She is safe.

"Well, it's not that bad," Diamond said, interrupting Anon's musing. "Like, what's the worst they can do?"

"They broke my glasses last time!" Silver Spoon retorted, tapping at her repaired frames for emphasis.

Diamond cringed, giving an awkward shrug.

"But you fixed them," she argued weakly.

"Well, yeah," Silver Spoon admitted after a few seconds. "It's good practice before mom allows me to do anything more serious with my tools, but look at them! They're all teaming up on us!"

She was right. While they stood in their corner of the field waiting for Cheerilee to start the game, every other team was glaring their way and muttering plans to each other.

And it wasn't very hard to guess what sort of plans.

"Did you hear that?" Silver Spoon said in a panicked voice. "They're gonna break our bones! Our bones,Diamond!"

"Silver, it isn't that bad," Diamond attempted to reassure her.

"Yeah, depending on where it is and if it's a complicated fracture, bruised ribs can hurt more than a broken bone." Anon offered, "And if it's a bad fracture, with the bone sticking out and all that, you might just pass out from the shock and get over it that way. I know I did."

She noticed the two utterly horrified looks her teammates were giving her.

"What?" Anon asked.

"You think you're helping," Diamond said slowly. "That's what worries me the most."

Diamond shook her head, leaning closer towards her teammates and motioning for them to do the same.

"Okay, listen you two," she whispered. "We're not getting trounced and nopony's bones are getting broken."

A green hoof slowly rose.

"I have a question," Anon said.

Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes.

"That includes their bones too," she said flatly.

"I withdraw my question."

"But how, Dia?" Silver Spoon asked. "It's twelve against three. We can't win this."

Diamond Tiara gave them a bright smile.

"Maybe," Diamond said with a smirk. "But they can't make their alliance against us too obvious when Cheerilee is watching. All we need is strategy and-" she paused, her face turning green as her vest. "-teamwork, bleargh," she spat. "We can make this work."

Anon raised a brow.

"So, what's your idea?"

Diamond Tiara pulled them closer, her smirk only growing.

"Spring, you'll take point. How good are you at catching?" she asked quickly.

The jumper paused, head lowering.

"Not very," she admitted.

Diamond Tiara gave her a nod.

"Okay, I'll stay behind you and try to pick up any dodgeballs that miss you," she said. "They have to aim low to avoid shots above shoulders, so I should be relatively safe. All you need is to draw their attention. Make yourself a target."

Anon shot her an incredulous look, which Diamond deflected with an encouraging, if a little forced, smile.

"I saw you avoid those shadow… monster… things," Diamond trailed off before simply shrugging and continuing. "Just keep moving like that and they won't hit you."

Diamond paused, pointing at herself.

"So my job will be relatively simple: stay behind Spring, grab any dodgeballs that miss her, and toss them to our secret weapon."

Silver Spoon nodded along, waiting for Diamond to say more, until she noticed the meaningful look she was getting from her friend.

"W-wait, you mean me?" Silver Spoon sputtered.

Diamond placed a hoof on Silver Spoon's shoulder, who blanched, her ears flicking and landing flat on her scalp.

"Silver, you make jewelry for fun. Your whole family is silversmiths," Diamond said with an encouraging smile. "You have the best hoof eye coordination out of all of us and you're great at spotting small details. If any of us can do this, it's you."

Silver Spoon finally smiled back, giving Diamond a determined nod.

The moment was short lasting as Anon gave a fake cough behind them. Both Silver and Diamond turned sharply towards the filly, who was just standing there and awkwardly digging at the ground.

"Well, that all sounds well and good, but I guess this isn't the whole plan, is it?" she said.

"No," Diamond admitted with a sigh. "At the start, we have to rush to the middle and keep moving."

Silver Spoon let out a gasp while Anon simply raised an eyebrow.

"Middle? Are you sure?" Silver Spoon said, adjusting her glasses a little. "Wouldn't it be better to defend our corner, so we don't get surrounded and taken out first?"

Anon nodded. If they had to fight a numerically superior opponent, a good fighting position could be the deciding factor. Forcing them into or at least narrowing their angles of approach should have been a priority.

"Normally yes," Diamond Tiara said. "But remember. Any dodgeballs that go out of the playing field are tossed back in by Cheerilee." As she explained, a smirk found its way onto her muzzle. "Knowing her, she will try to land them in the middle to keep it fair. If we hide in our corner, the only ball we’ll see will be heading straight for us. But if we keep mobile and stay close to the middle, we’ll keep resupplied and far more easily control the pace of the game."

Offense is the best defense gamble, huh.

Anon could see the benefits. And the steady supply of ammo would be invaluable in a prolonged fight. They would have to make every shot count if they hoped to win.

"And there's another advantage to being in the middle, especially with Anon's dodging skills," Diamond said with a cheeky smirk.

Silver Spoon’s eyes widened in realization.

"Crossfire," she whispered.

"Exactly!" Diamond nodded. "The enemy teams are just that. Teams, multiple. If we sow some chaos and make them accidentally hit each other, their whole alliance will go down in flames!"

Diamond let out a mad cackle.

"Victory will be ours!"

Anon paused for a second, watching the madly laughing filly next to her.

"Aren't we overdoing it just a little?" Anon asked. "It's just dodgeball."

Diamond abruptly stopped her episode to give her an offended look

"What are you? A loser?" Diamond said. "We're going to show them why we're the best!"

Anon opened her mouth for a retort, only to be interrupted by a whistle, and their attention was brought back to Cheerliee as she threw the first dodgeball into the field. After a few bounces the red ball came to a stop in the middle of the field, perfectly spaced between the four teams.

The game had begun.

There was a second of silence and hesitation.

Not for Anon, though.

She rushed forward with all the speed she could muster, galloping towards the center of the field and the ball sitting there, internally hoping that her teammates were doing the same.

But Scootaloo was faster.

The orange pegasus filly, in an orange vest, arrived ahead of the zerg rush of other foals, gaining extra speed from the small wings fluttering on her back.

She grabbed the ball, throwing it back to her closest orange-vested teammate.

Sweetie Bell juggled and fumbled it for a heartbeat, but managed to grab hold and steady herself. The ball was now charged - ready to hit.

Anon prepared to dodge.

Sweetie Belle threw it.

But not at Anon.

Apple Bloom ran past Anon, coming from the side, obscuring the dodgeball behind her orange vest. Anon turned on her heel, coming face to face with her foe. The farm filly reeled back, throwing the ball to the air and preparing to buck it.

She never got the chance.

"Slowpoke!"

"Hey!" Apple Bloom called out.

Diamond Tiara pushed through the others, snatching the ball out of the air before blowing a raspberry and tossing the ball to Silver Spoon.

The silver-maned filly caught it, stopping briefly as she picked her target, and she threw it with a stabilizing spin

Scootaloo moved to the side, avoiding the throw just in the nick of time.

The ball landed behind Scootaloo, and was picked up by a colt in a blue vest - Rumble, Anon remembered. The young pegasus then gave the weakest excuse of a throw Anon had ever seen, the ball limply falling towards Sweetie Bell before landing on the grass where it began slowly rolling into the hoofs of the snow white unicorn.

"Oh no, what a cat-apostrophy," Rumble said, voice flat.

"It's catastrophy," corrected Sweetie Bell automatically, her attention fully on the dodgeball now as she picked it up and tossed it to Scootaloo.

"Whatever," the colt muttered.

Meanwhile, Scootaloo caught the ball, snapping it from the air in one fluid motion.

Only then did Anon realize what Diamond meant when she said that Scootaloo was good at dodgeball.

The orange pegasus filly made her shot almost immediately, sending the ball spinning and flying in an horizontal arc - flying like a cartoon boomerang right at Anon. How Scootaloo managed that was beyond Anon. Her best guess was pegasus magic.

But Anon was ready.

There were no exaggerated movements, no flailing, no panic. Anon just… moved her hoof out of the way of the ball, and that was enough.

"Auch!"

A whistle rang out through the field as Rumble fell to the ground, clutching his fetlock and giving glare to Scootaloo.

"Hey!" he called out. "Look where you're throwing!"

Berry Twist grabbed the ball next. The nervous filly stuck out her tongue in concentration, aiming for her target.

Anon made a single step left.

The ball missed the jumper, soared through the air where she stood just a second before and flew outside the playing field until it finally hit the fence. Anon had to concede - earth ponies, even foals, really could put some good "umph" behind their throws.

Magic, go figure.

Cheerilee picked up the stray dodgeball, quickly kicking it back.

It landed in the middle yet again.

Diamond was already waiting for it there.

Not losing a single second, the filly threw it to Silver Spoon. Taking her time, Silver Spoon took a deep breath, letting the noise of the playground fall into the background while she searched for the perfect opportunity.

She found one.

A cluster of foals from different teams, trying to get as far away from her as possible, all going into a corner - with very little space for dodging.

She saw her opportunity. And she took it.

The ball flew low in a perfect arc, landing smack in the middle of them, without actually hitting anypony.

It didn't need to.

The foals around it exchanged looks. At first there was trepidation.

Then there was chaos.

All of them lunged for the ball, grabbing it only for somepony else to steal it and immediately throw it, resulting in somepony else doing the same - forgetting about the part where the ball needed to be passed first, resulting in even more chaos.

Silver Spoon smirked.

A whistle rang out.

Anon turned, just in time to see Cheerilee kicking in another two dodgeballs. The red instruments of destruction were joining their brethren already in the field of battle. The balls landed, again, towards the middle of the battleground and right into the waiting hooves of Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, who exchanged a glance.

"Oh yeah, it's on," Diamond said.

Meanwhile, Anon came to a small realization.

She was enjoying herself.

The green filly leaned right, followed by a quick step left - another dodgeball missing her only by a hair.

It was strange. At first, she went back onto her instincts, feeling nothing but the desperate need to keep moving and avoid the red projectiles. But after the first few misses, something clicked in her head.

It a game. Just a game.

And we are winning

Anon let out a laugh, rushing towards a panicking Sweetie Belle, who whiffed her shot as the green foal wove around her. Anon stopped suddenly, kicking up dirt and dust. Scootaloo groaned, seeing as another of her perfectly timed and aimed shots not only missed her intended target, but managed to nail poor Twist in the flank.

The whistle rang out. And then again. And again.

The utter chaos that was the playground gradually cleared up as more and more of the players got eliminated. Anon continued doing what she did best - standing in the face of anyone without a green vest and forcing them to miss their shots, while her own teammates slowly dismantled any semblance of resistance.

Until suddenly…

"Pause!"

Cheerilee ran into the field, helping the now choking Berry up. The filly was meanwhile busy with simultaneously holding tears in an ineffectual attempt at stopping herself from crying and glaring angrily at Scootaloo. After some prodding by the teacher, Berry finally lifted her foreleg for Cheerilee to see, revealing her slightly bloodied knee - scratched in her attempt to get away. Not that it helped much against Scootaloo's supercharged shots.

The orange filly only watched with a steely expression as Cheerilee shushed the crying foal and led her away into the classroom, presumably to apply the all-ills-treating cure better known as The Good Band-Aids. (Not the boring, old stuff one has to cut themselves with scissors. The pretty Band-Aids with colorful pictures on them that somehow only nurses and elementary school teachers seem to have.)

And just like that, only two teams remained.

Diamond, Silver Spoon and Anon stood in a line, catching their breath after the slaughter.

Against them, four foals in orange vests.

Scootaloo held one of the dodgeballs. Sweat matted her fur and stained her vest. Next to her stood Sweetie Belle, the snow-white filly clearly out of breath and tired. Apple Bloom fared better, despite the bruise forming on her front leg - where she got hit on accident by a ball, that luckily for her, hadn't counted.

And behind them cowered Dinky.

The gray unicorn filly let out a meek "Eeep" every time anypony so much as looked at her, dodging out of the way even if the ball landed on the opposite side of the playground.

Which, to be fair, had to be a strategy with some level of tactical soundness, because she was still in the game.

Or maybe Silver Spoon simply never saw her as a good target and nopony else wanted to risk hitting Scootaloo's teammate.

"Ready to lose?" Diamond quipped, a smug look on her face.

"Dream on!" Scootaloo answered quickly, with Apple Bloom nodding next to her. "As if we could ever lose to somepony like you, Diamond."

Silver Spoon opened her mouth for a retort, but the pink hoof in front of her muzzle silenced her.

"You know what?" Diamond said cockily. "If you’re so sure, why not make this more interesting?"

She gave a wink.

"Let’s bet."

She turned towards the now confused Anon, motioning at her to come closer.

"Spring, have you ever had a personal sl- butler?"

Anon raised a brow.

This isn't going to end well.

"...No?" she said slowly.

Diamond smirked.

"Would you like one?"

Anon blinked, staring at her ostensibly/maybe/probably friend.

"What?" Scootaloo said, voicing the opinion of everyone gathered.

Diamond shot Anon another smirk before turning to the equally confused three fillies standing as their foes.

"It's simple," Diamond explained. "The losers have to be the winners’ butlers for a day."

Scootaloo took a step forward, folded wings bristling at her sides

"No way, Diamond."

Apple Bloom gave her orange friend a nod.

"We ain't agreeing or anything with a snake like you."

Diamond only continued smirking.

"But of course," Diamond said. "It's understandable that you're scared in your situation." She gave them a look of fake sympathy. "Don't worry, we will go easy on you. I promise"

Sweetie Belle gulped, watching the orange filly grit her teeth, looking like she was just about ready to jump Diamond Tiara and throw hooves - something which couldn't end well.

"Scootaloo, no," Sweetie Bell attempted, but was soundly ignored.

"It's on," Scootaloo hissed.

Diamond's smile only broadened as she walked away and Cheerilee came back to the field.

"That could have gone better," Anon said, looking back at the trio of scowling fillies behind them, now bickering between each other. "Are you sure antagonizing them was a smart thing to do?"

Diamond rolled her eyes.

"Of course it was the smart thing to do, duh." Diamond answered with an easy shrug. "When we get ponies this angry, they stop working well together. It's like our most used trick or whatever."

"But now they have a lot more to lose." Anon argued. "And a lot more to gain."

"I'm with Spring here." Silver Spoon piped up. "What if it backfires? I don't think we could live that down."

Diamond shook her head.

"It won't, trust me," Diamond said with a tone of voice suggesting she had more to say on the topic, but was hesitating to talk about it.

Anon had a good guess why that was.

Let's get this over with.

The green filly inhaled while bracing herself.

"Okay, I guess you have a plan. I hope it's a better one than just 'dodge, but like, really hard," Anon said in deadpan.

"Yes, but you're not going to like it," Diamond said.

Called it, Anon thought to herself.

The rich filly paused, glancing around her if anypony was listening before continuing in a hushed tone.

"I need you to get hit."

Anon took a deep breath.

Cheerilee stood in the middle of the playground. Behind was the rest of the class, now out of the game, just watching them intently while trying to cheer for team orange without making it too obvious to Cheerilee.

"I really have to stop agreeing to stuff like this," Anon muttered to herself as she stepped forward, ready to enter the fray once more.

"Ehm."

Their attention was snapped to Cheerilee, the teacher giving the two remaining teams a small smile, barely hiding her concern.

"Before we restart the game," she said with a quickly slipping mask of pleasantness, wholly understandable considering she now used a month's supply of ban-aids in the span of twenty minutes. "Please be careful. It's only a game. Is that clear?"

"Yes, miss Cheerilee," Chorused the two teams, wholly prepared to ignore the teacher’s advice.

"Good,” Cheerilee nodded. “Now…Start!"

She kicked the ball into the field, sending it in a long, curved arc, heading for the center of the field.

Anon dashed forward, Scootaloo doing the same, both of them running as fast as their legs would allow them, the ball landing on the ground between them. The orange filly gaining a small lead.

Scootaloo smiled.

She would be there first.

Anon kept on running, dirt flying from under her hooves, her mind razor-focused on the task.

It will work. You will make it.

Scootaloo reached for the ball and let out a laugh as she snatched it up.

Anon ran past her.

Confused, Scootaloo turned, winding back and throwing the dodgeball with everything she had.

The ball spun, flying so fast it left a red blur behind it.

Anon stopped, skidding to a halt.

When the ball hit Anon in the shoulder, the force behind it nearly made the jump lose her balance and send her to the ground. But she held while the ball itself was sent flying straight up in the air, Scootaloo watching its ascent and descent with utter fascination.

What she failed to notice was Spring beginning to move again. Running further towards Scootaloo's left behind teammates, blocking them on approach-

Diamond Tiara ran past the now owlishly blinking Scootaloo, snatching the ball before it could land.

And then she threw it.

The orange filly dodged. Because while she was startled, she was still aware and fast enough to sidestep, even if the shot came from an odd angle and at such a short distance.

The ball missed by a wide margin, Scootaloo smirked, knowing she was still the best and Diamond now whiffed her only shot at getting her. But then she noticed something:

Diamond Tiara was smirking too.

The rich filly wasn't surprised by the miss, or even Scootaloo's quick reactions. She knew very well just how fast the filly could react from all the previous times she had been pitched against her.

Which was the reason she’d never aimed for Scootaloo in the first place.

Silver Spoon caught the dodgeball.

The silver maned filly had snuck behind Scootaloo while she was too busy trying to shoot Anon and dodge Diamond's possible attack. This meant that now Scootaloo still had too much momentum built up from her movement.

To the young pegasus' credit, she realized something was wrong. A sense in the back of her mind was tingling, making her move.

But Silver Spoon had a good eye for details. One needs it when working with small, precious things and making them into other small, even more precious things.

There was just enough motion for her to notice. A small tensing of muscles in Scootaloo's left wing as the pegasus prepared to give herself a push to avoid the danger.

Silver Spoon adjusted her aim and took her shot.

Cheerilee's whistle rang out.

Scootaloo blinked at the sight of the dodgeball, laying on the ground in front of her after it bounced off her front leg.

"H-how?"

Diamond beamed at her.

"Easy, we were smart about it," Diamond explained. "You might be fast, but you have a bad habit of standing around and waiting for your shot to hit, Scoots."

"And you telegraph your dodges with your wings," Silver added, adjusting her glasses.

"We expect you tomorrow at eight," Diamond said, a smile so smug it threatened the very fabric of reality plastered on her face.

Silver turned towards her friend with a devilish smile of her own.

"Ooh! Do we get them neckties and tuxedos and make them all dress up?" she said.

Diamond paused, scratching her chin.

"I dunno," she said after a few beats. "I don't have any and I don't think Randolph would appreciate it if I borrowed his."

"We ain't out yet, Diamond," Scootaloo hissed, rubbing the sore spot on her fetlock.

"Yeah! We can still kick your sorry flanks!" Apple Bloom came to the defense of her comrade in vest.

"Ehm, Diamond?" Silver attempted to interject, but Diamond's focus was now completely on the orange team.

Or, at least, most of them.

"Oh? You want to defeat us without your star player. How, pray tell?" Diamond said, haughtiness dripping from her voice.

"Diamond, they have the ball!" Silver suddenly yelled at her friend.

She was right.

Behind them stood Dinky, the ball levitating next to in an aura of sparkling, grayish magic while she desperately tried to make it stop shaking and take aim.

She wasn't very successful.

"C’mon! Throw!" Apple Bloom screamed, running into position behind the now panicking Diamond as she scrambled to get away, only to be body blocked by the farm filly.

"Get Diamond!" Scootaloo commanded.

"No! Get Spring! Wait until Spring is distracted and get her!" Sweetie Belle joined in, rising to stand in Anon's face, which was only awarded by a deadpan expression on the jumper's unimpressed face, making Sweetie Belle back off while smiling sheepishly. "...Or maybe don't?"

"Silver!" came a voice from the bench, belonging to the until now still sulking Rumble. "Get Silver!"

"No! You have to make it count first! Get it to me!" Apple Bloom. "I'll get Diamond then!"

But Dinky did no such thing. She stood in place, eyes closed, seemingly on the verge of tears as her magic simply refused to obey.

And then the ball began to blur and the sparks around it grew.

"C’mon, are you stupid?!" Scootaloo said angrily. "Stop being useless and do something!"

Dinky lowered her head, the magic built more and more around the ball, tears started trickling down her face.

The ball started to glow with power.

And then, the spark turned into lightning.

"Eh, stupid question," Anon said while backing away from the forming vortex of raw magical power gathering around Dinky. "But is that normal?"

"Watch out!" Silver Spoon cried out. "She is having a surge!"

"A what-"

And then Dinky let go of the dodgeball, collapsing unconscious to the ground from the backlash.

There was a loud crack, followed by a thunderous boom as the ball of painful doom was hurled by Dinkie's out-of-control magic at its target.

Scootaloo.

The orange pegasus filly’s eyes went wide with fear in the split second the ball of ultimate destruction turned its course towards her. The dodgeball left sparks of magic in its trail like a demented, malicious comet.

Scootaloo did the only thing she could.

She ducked.

The ball continued flying for a few feet more until it stopped just as suddenly as it started moving, levitating above ground, suspended in gray magical aura and occasionally shooting blasts of mana, scorching the ground underneath.

Anon, for a second, would swear that it glared at Scootaloo. A rare feat, considering it didn't even have eyes.

And then it flew back towards the orange filly.

"Help!" was all Scootaloo managed to bellow as she dodged the ball again and the furious piece of red rubber, magic and rage continued harassing the filly.

Cheerilee attempted to help. The teacher jumped in the way of the homicidal school equipment, attempting to hold it in place, pushing against uncontrollable magic with all her might.

The ball went still.

Finally, Cheerilee gave a sigh of relief, relaxing a little.

"Well, I hope this will serve as a lesson-"

The ball moved up, surprising the mare and lifting her up into the air, while it flew towards the now terrified gaggle of foals. Cheerilee holding on to it for dear life.

"No! Bad dodgeball!"

The ball stopped again, its non-eyes glaring whole swords at the teacher before it began shaking like a dog, Cheerilee swaying with it in midair.

And then it stopped again.

"Oh thank Celestia," Cheerilee muttered, her face visibly green.

The ball glared.

It was at that moment, Cheerilee noticed that the ball, in fact, hadn't stopped.

It simply began moving up.

"Oh no."

it flew up and up into the air, before backing up and giving one final glare, the sparkling vortex bristling angrily around it.

"Oh no, no, no, no! Bad dodgeball! Bad!"

Before it suddenly, and rapidly, accelerated and then took a sharp U turn, throwing the screaming teacher off. With a horrible, startled scream, Cheerilee fell, her lungs and throat burning as she called for help.

For about a second, until she realized she safely landed on the roof of the schoolhouse.

Slowly, Cheerilee got up, testing that she, in fact, was on something solid and wasn't falling to her death (anymore). Finally, the still shaking teacher gave a relieved sigh. Now, she only needed to get down and-

She looked down from the second story she ended on. With no ladder or help in sight.

Quickly, she looked from side to side - just to make sure.

"Horseapples," the teacher muttered.

Meanwhile, down on the playing field, hell went loose.

The ball returned, restarting its rampage, coming straight down and burying itself into the ground, showering everypony around it with dirt.

Bewildered, Scootaloo watched as patches of disturbed ground betrayed the location of the now burrowing dodgeball.

"Nobody move!" Anon whisper-yelled - a delicate art of screaming without being loud. "It stalks by sensing movement."

"It's a bucking dodgeball!" Retorted Scootaloo, then cringing when she realized the words she used. She did calm down slightly when she realized the only adult supervision capable of rinsing her mouth with soap for her vocabulary was currently trying to find a way down from a roof of a third story building that didn't include broken bones or possible brain damage.

"It's predatory!" Anon whispered. "It hungers for pony flesh!"

"It's rubber!" Sweetie Belle exclaimed, her voice betraying the panic and the fact she ever so slowly began to believe that the dodgeball, may be, just as an option, an equinovore.

"I have a plan!" Diamond said suddenly, ducking away from another lunge by the bloodthirsty playground instrument. "I need somepony strong to chain it down. Apple Bloom, Silver, you can help me with that. Spring, do you remember how you fixed the chain?"

The jumper gulped. She remembered that well enough. The headache - or hornache - hadn't gone away for hours.

"Yeah?" she answered slowly, while stepping right just as the ball pounced from the ground, flying past her and burying itself into the dirt where she stood just a second ago.

"Do you think you can do it again?"

The jumper paused, briefly glancing to the corner where terrified foals were running around like headless chickens, avoiding the rampage to the best of their abilities.

"...Yeah."

Diamond gave her a nod, turning towards the two teams.

"We need to grab it and hold it down so Spring can melt it with fire magic. Scootaloo, you have the best chance of distracting it while-"

"Are you crazy?" Interrupted Apple Bloom. "You saw what it did to Cheerilee when she tried that!"

"We just need it to keep it in one place for a few seconds so Spring can destroy it," Silver tried.

"It's going to throw us off!" Sweetie Belle interrupted.

"Not if we work together!" Silver Spoon argued.

"Working together?" Apple Bloom exclaimed angrily, while flinching as the sound of the other foals hit her. "You're planning on using Scootaloo as bait!"

"...Let's do it," Scootaloo said suddenly.

"What?" Both Sweetie Bell and Applebloom said the same time.

"We caused this. And we will fix it" Scootaloo said towards her two friends before turning back to Diamond, giving her a small nod the pinkish filly reciprocated in kind.

"Good," Diamond motioned towards the playground next to the playing field. "Now listen."

She smirked.

"I have a plan."

The ball attacked.

The construct of anger and magic saw the world through a red haze. Its master laid down, unconscious on the ground, their last command now the only thing fueling it.

Anger.

It did not know what made its creator angry; it did not understand why or what it even was.

But it did know what to do.

The ball dove into another huddle of foals. Two colts who were trying to climb the fence and escape to safety. Too slow to realize the danger now coming their way.

"Hah! Freedom!"

Snips had to hold himself from squealing the second he reached the top of the fence, poor Snails straining under him as they both tried to escape.

"Hurry!" his friend said, his legs shaking from having to support the other colt.

And then the fence exploded.

For the second time in the same week, Snips was catapulted off his hoof and into the air, landing in a heap of limbs and sadness under a circular shadow.

The colt slowly got up, the world spinning on around him. He attempted to reorient himself, but his head hurt and something big and red was blocking most of his vision.

"Oh, that's just the dodgeball," he said, relieved. "Wait a second…"

The ball floated up, preparing to dive down once more, the angry magic around it seemed almost eager for a moment.

"Hey!"

The ball, if it had a head to turn, would.

Behind it, standing on top of an old slide, stood Scootaloo.

"Come and get me if you can."

The murderous dodgeball did not hesitate.

Without a second to spare, Scootaloo ducked. The ball went through the slide as if it wasn't even there in a shower of splinters. The instrument of destruction came to a halt, floating seemingly dazed above the ruined slide as it shook some of the debris off while searching for its mark.

"Now!" Diamond screamed, rushing together with Spring from a nearby bush.

On their mark, Apple Bloom and Silver Spoon appeared from behind the swings, the repaired chain between them. The two foals rushed the confused dodgeball, the chain wrapping around it as they began to circle it and bind it, holding it in place as it tried to fly away.

Diamond jumped on both her opportunity and the chained ball in her attempt at bringing it down to the ground. Not one to be left behind, Scootaloo grabbed the dodgeball, using every ounce of her strength to ground the red beast, her wings fluttering with effort as she did.

Meanwhile, Anon tried to remember. Searching for the right memory. Not to fix something. Not to mend. To destroy.

Anon searched for a memory that burned.

Silver Spoon's eyes went wide. The chain she held began to slip away, the reforged links slowly coming apart. The gray magic pulling and destroying. Seeing the weak link split, she bit down on it just as it was about to get away.

"Spring! Hurry!" she tried to say, but due to the whole 'chain held in mouth' situation', it was closer to "Splgh, Gurry!"

Anon closed her eyes.

Please! Stop! Mercy!

No.

Aaargh! My hand! Why? You monster-

Did he beg? Have you shown him any mercy when you took his mind away? When you wiped everything that made him?

…

That's what I thought.

This is for my friend.

And then there was light.

Diamond turned away, the brightness being too much for her eyes.

When she opened them again, where the dodgeball used to be was now a foul smelling puddle of melted stuff.

"It worked!" she said, half in disbelief that her plan worked, half that it didn't end with them covered in soot for some reason.

"Diamond! Look!" Silver Spoon pointed at her friend.

More accurately, at her flank.

"You have a cutie mark," Silver Spoon said with a grin.

On her flank, to surprise absolutely nopony, was a tiara.

Diamond let out a giddy laugh before stopping and pointing right back.

"Silver, you have yours too!" she exclaimed happily.

And it was true enough. On her flank was now, again to the surprise of absolutely nopony, a fancy looking spoon. One presumably made of silver.

"Yeah! Suck it, blank flanks!" Silver Spoon said, towards the trio of fillies getting up behind her.

"Spring, do you have- Spring?"

But Anon didn't answer. She was too busy writhing on the floor in pain, feeling like something was actively rummaging through her very soul and making quite a mess while at it. Either rending it apart, or maybe welding it together with reckless abandon.

On her flank, the green of her fur changed color. It became lighter, more distinct.

Almost forming an outline of a picture or a symbol of some kind.

And the orb under her vest glowed a little brighter.

Author's Note

Hey!

Another chapter is in.

Hope you like it. This one took a lot of work.

As some may have noticed, my schedule has been a bit of a mess. Things were happening in my personal life. Bad things. Eh, health related ones.

Yeah, I may have been dying. A little.

I had some health issues (still have, it's just not…immediately life threatening anymore. Hope it stays that way) from a major incident from some time back. These issues were compounded by stress at work and, well, it all came crashing down kinda spectacularly.

It didn't look good. It was actually pretty bad. Bad enough to be making arrangements for my own funeral kind of bad.

That obviously didn't happen in the end. I pulled through. Lucky me.

Why am I going on about this? Well, it's easy.

Writing this and your comments they…helped. I really like making this stuff and I didn't want to disappoint anybody by not being able to finish this (I saw some people complaining that the non-canon chapter shouldn't be here, And while I get that, I wrote a big chunk of that Crossover on what I thought would be my goddamn deathbed. Coming up with a scene or a joke and wanting it to write down quickly before I forget was one of the reasons I bothered waking up some of the days where I just wanted to stay down. It stays)

I’m just saying, this little thing gained a bit of a…different meaning to me now. And I wanted to say thank you. For reading. Even if it sometimes is literally just strange ramblings of my often imprecise mind.

That's all.

Also, considering I'm now on permanent leave, I kinda get more time for writing, yay! Dunno how much it will affect things, because the people editing these are still busy as always, but maybe a consistent upload schedule is a possibility now!

Chapter Twenty-Two: Changing Winds

Agent Sweetie Drops was facing a dilemma.

Not a problem. The special agent was more than capable of solving problems. Problems have solutions. It's not a problem if there isn't a way to solve it, after all.

Dilemmas don't have solutions.

Dilemmas have choices.

Her choice right now was between staying in the warm embrace of her loving fiancée, or getting out of bed and doing her job.

A difficult choice, if there ever was one.

But the mission always comes first.

"Sorry Lyra," Sweetie Drops whispered gently, slowly peeling herself away from the still form of the sleeping unicorn.

Said form then suddenly stopped being so still, as Lyra stirred and reached for her now absent partner, her eyelids fluttering as if to open at any moment.

That would be very bad. The agent had, of course, prepared a cover story, one she'd been establishing since yesterday, so the unicorn wouldn't panic when she woke up alone.

No, keeping her secret mission secret wasn't the reason behind her trying not to wake Lyra.

Bon Bon simply didn't want to say goodbye.

Thinking quickly, Sweetie Drops took one of her pillows and moved it into reach of Lyra's grasping hooves. The minty unicorn let out a satisfied snort, rolled over with her prize firmly in her grip, and promptly began drooling all over it.

Bon Bon smiled.

"Never change, Lyly," she whispered. "Never change."

Shaking herself back into the world of the waking, the agent slowly crept away from her shared bedroom and into the hall, briefly stopping by Springs' door, listening in for any abnormality.

What she heard was crying.

The agent grit her teeth.

The door was locked. And for good reason. Anon's room was supposed to be hers, for her to feel safe in. To breach her privacy like that…

Bon Bon couldn't ignore the muffled cries.

A pony's ability to grasp objects with their hooves is a curious thing. Enveloping the appendages was a constant, low-level magic field, letting them hold and interact with objects more delicately than one would think.

What few realized was the full potential of that field. With enough study, training, and sheer stubbornness, a pony could learn to further manipulate the field, pushing it to its very limits and even extending beyond the bounds of one's own body. The field got weaker the larger the distance between the hoof and the object, yes, but one didn't need to exert much force, to let's say, jolt a few pins into place, or to turn a small, brass bolt.

The lock that stood between Bon Bon and her distressed daughter did not stand a chance.

Sweetie Drops opened the door, head slowly craning inside to see what was happening.

On her bed, laid Anon. Flailing and shivering in the midst of her nightmare.

Bon Bon's heart broke at the sight.

She knew that what she was doing was risky. Anon did not react to surprises well at the best of times, and being suddenly awoken in the middle of the night definitely wasn't one of those. The opposite, really.

She took the risk anyway.

The mare sneaked towards the nightmare-stricken filly, carefully avoiding all the creaky floorboards.

"I'm sorry," the filly mumbled. "I'm sorry."

Bon Bon's ears perked up. The filly tossed and turned, mumbling to herself in her slumber and kicking her blanket off, exposing her to the relative cold of the morning air.

The agent's body moved on its own. She picked the blanket back up and gently tucked the filly in, careful not to disrupt her.

"It's alright," Bon Bon whispered, her voice cracking up a little. "You're safe. I won't let anything hurt you. Not again."

She rose up from the bedside.

"I promise."

Anon's flailing subsided, and her breathing settled as she drifted into deep, silent sleep. Perhaps the first real sleep she'd had in a very long while.

Seeing this, Bon Bon smiled.

Again, ever so carefully, the agent vacated the bedroom, closing the door behind her and quickly relocking it. She let her shoulders slump the second it closed, letting her release the tension she didn't even realize was there.

Sweetie Drops shook herself. She still had a job to do today.

She made her way into the badly lit basement, moving several crates of heavy baking supplies to reveal a rune circle underneath.

The agent tapped the communication array thrice, counting between each tap. She had to get the sequence right, or she risked sounding the silent alarm.

The runes lit up.

In a midst of shimmering light, a picture of a pony materialized - and her expression said it all.

She sat in a nest of cushions, wearing a fluffy bathrobe and slippers. Her normally flawlessly-groomed mane merely hung down over her head and shoulders in a formless mass. And she nursed a kettle - not a cup, a whole kettle - of tea, whose color and texture was more akin to tar than anything fit for pony consumption. The taste, too, must have been something fierce, judging by how she grimaced as she took piping swigs of the stuff, in between picking it out of her mane, and her mane out of it.

To the great delight of the gods of irony everywhere, Princess Celestia - Shepherd of the Sun, Dawnbringer, The Unconquered Sol, etcetera, etcetera - wasn't a morning pony.

"Good morning, Celestia," Sweetie Drops said playfully.

Princess Celestia, glared at the agent as she let out a guttural growl, loud and feral enough to scare timberwolves.

"If anypony gets to decide when it's morning, it's me," she said in a tone that allowed no argument. "And three a.m. is not it."

Still, her expression softened somewhat. She took another sip of her tar-like beverage, scrunching her muzzle at the bitterness.

Then she looked up, and asked, "How is-"

"Better," Sweetie Drops interjected. "Not good but… better."

Celestia sighed, diverting her gaze away from the agent.

"I guess that's all we can ask for."

Sweetie Drops simply nodded, and the basement basked in uncomfortable silence for several seconds after that.

"I'm still angry at you," she said after a good long moment. "We shouldn't keep stuff like this from her. It's only going to hurt more later."

And back to awkward silence the basement returned.

Suddenly the alicorn asked, "You know why I offered Anon to stay with you in exchange for protecting the elements?" The agent tilted her head, surprised by the change of topic.

"I have some ideas," Sweetie Drops said tersely.

You do very much like to use the talents and abilities of others for your schemes, after all.

Sweetie Drops was aware of that facet of Celestia, acutely in fact. Her plans were always calculated to benefit the ponies wrapped up in them, just as they furthered her own goals. Sweetie Drops understood that, she was okay with that, especially since Celestia was mostly nice about it. So of course she'd use Spring in some scheme of hers. It was for the mission - for the greater good. And if it wasn't good, it was at least necessary.

So why is it making me so angry right now?

"I wanted to help her," Celestia spoke up again, regaining the agent's attention. "But the things she's seen, the life she's led…" The alicorn sighed and shook her head. "If I simply offered her a place to stay, a safe harbor, to let her rest for however long she needed…"

The rune array flickered as Princess Celestia took a big sip of her tea, closing her eyes for a moment as the scalding hot liquid proved a good source of something to ground her from drifting into uncomfortable memories.

"She would not accept it. She could not accept it." Celestia spoke with a voice that, to Sweetie Drops, sounded almost regretful - and left the agent wondering if she was even speaking about Spring at all. "We all walk our own paths, but we can't choose a path we can't see."

The princess smiled a little. It wasn't a full smile - more of a hint of her usual playfulness when she got her scheme just right, but there was still sadness to it.

"By offering her a deal, I played into what she knew," she explained. "Mutual sacrifice, and mutual benefit. The usual."

Sweetie Drops expression lit up.

"You offered the deal to help ease her in," the agent said as the realization dawned on her. "She didn't look for a hidden catch that wasn't there, because she thought she had already found it."

The agent scrunched up her muzzle.

"But what does this have to do with withholding the truth from Anon?" she asked. "Letting her be trapped here?"

"Everything!" the Princess exclaimed. "Think about it. She couldn't fathom that we'd help her with no strings attached. The idea was so foreign to her it simply never even occurred. And yet she still wanted to save us. Because it was the right thing to do. After everything, she's still holding onto something, or to put it into the right words, something's still holding her together."

The princess' expression fell and she shifted her position on the cushion - not to be more comfortable, but more to avoid looking at an empty spot where a certain mirror should have been.

"We can't take that from her," she whispered. "Not without giving her something else. It wouldn't be the worst cruelty committed against her. But I do fear it would be the last."

The basement once again fell into silence, only interpreted by the thrum of magic powering the runic array.

"...You had an assignment for me," Sweetie Drops finally said, her voice tense.

The alicorn gave a curt nod, eyes drifting to the stack of papers under Sweetie Drops' hoofs.

"Yes. I trust you read the dossier."

The agent sighed, sifting through all four of the pages that made up the file - including pictures, generous line spacing, and a lengthy, rambling essay structure that would make any college student proud.

"For what little good it did me," Sweetie said. "Calling it a dossier is a stretch. It's closer to a handful of post-it notes hastily scrapped together."

The Princess arched a brow.

"Interesting isn't it?" she said. "We were able to find surprisingly little information about the, hmm-" the princess tapped her chin and hummed, searching for the right words. "… Gentle-stallion's club."

Sweetie Drops shot her a deadpan look.

"You mean the seedy den where stallions go to get drunk and ogle mares?" she replied. "Charming venue, I'm sure."

If the alicorn minded the agent's sarcastic tone, she did not show it. Instead, she shrugged with her wings, attempting to display a measure of calm wholly incompatible with her disheveled mane, face, the kettle of murder tea and everything else.

"It used to be, but they now brand themselves as a nightclub," the princess said easily. "From what I gathered, that's a fairly common occurrence for gentle-stallion clubs these days. Or Nights, I suppose. Bigger crowds, more revenue, less regulation. Especially in regards to the treatment of employees."

Sweetie Drops nodded, absorbing the information, before suddenly perking up, hit with one particular detail the princess may have shared unintentionally.

"Wait," the agent said hesitantly. "You gathered?"

Celestia, the Harbinger of dawn, Diarch of Equestria, defeater of Discord and Tirek, blushed.

"Luna wanted to explore more of the nightlife around Equestria," The alicorn said slowly as if weighing each syllable, eyes somewhat distant. "It was an… enlightening experience."

Agent Sweetie Drops - a pony gifted with natural curiosity and great ability to gather information - looked at the mare she called "mom" most of her life and made a simple, very wise decision.

Nope.

"I don't think I want to know more." She paused, her imagination working overtime despite her best attempts at stopping it. "Scratch that. I definitely don't want to know more. Keep it relevant to the mission, I beg of you."

Celestia hid her abashed smile behind her wings, but in her head she filed this away for use at a later date.

Perhaps for after their honeymoon…

"Of course," she said easily. "Near the Cauliflower nightclub, in a-"

"Cauliflower?" Sweetie Drops interrupted, her brows raised.

The alicorn shrugged.

"I was led to believe it's a euphemism," she explained. "For certain…parts."

"Oh…" the agent slowly said, the single sound she made conveying far more than any real word could - or should. "Wait, Cauliflower?"

The princess coughed and looked away

"All the good euphemisms were already taken by other clubs," her muzzle turned into a frown. "Or at least I hope so, otherwise I feel my investments into the education system must have failed horribly."

The agent fought the urge to face-hoof and so she just gave a long suffering sigh instead.

"Continue, please," the agent motioned with her hoof, Celestia more than happy to oblige and began to read from the official report.

"Three days ago, emergency services in old Manehattan docks were called to the scene by an anonymous source," she began. "Near this nightclub, they found two unconscious stallions - twins by the names Flim and Flam. The victims were both found in a dumpster in a back alley, presumably left to-."

The princess interrupted herself, putting the paper down as it started to smoke. The agent nodded, trying to ignore the fact that Celestia's mane, for just a second, looked aflame.

Because Celestia, for all her warmth and care, was still the avatar of the sun. And the sun, for all the light and life it gives, still burns.

"They were dying," the princess said with a quiet intensity. "If not for the anonymous tip, they would have likely perished within the hour."

The princess shook herself, the moment of intensity passing. The alicorn reached for her tea, drinking some of the, for the lack of other words, liquid.

Chamomile, good for the nerves.

"At first, the medical staff thought they'd been poisoned," the princess continued after a few sips. "That is until one doctor used one of the more modern bio-magical scanners to… worrying results."

Sweetie Drops nodded at that.

"I read the medical report," she pointed at the 'file' in her hoofs. "No magical reserves. Strained and overextended mana pathways. Totally destabilized core…"

The agent shuddered. The effects of such an attack were…very serious. Ponies were inherently magical creatures, to the extent that even their emotional states had a magical charge.

To have it simply… drained out from your body. She could only imagine how painful that would have been.

"Strangely enough," the princess continued, "the blood tests they made for toxins came out today, testing positive. The drug's exact composition is unknown, but it seems to be a powerful anesthetic. Keeps the victim from passing out or feeling any pain, while significantly reducing their mental capabilities."

Sweetie Drops tapped her hoof against the floor in thought.

"So the doctors were right, they were poisoned," the agent said. "Just not in the way they expected."

Whoever attacked them probably spiked their drinks so they wouldn't defend themselves while they were drained. But why not just knock them out fully? Maybe the victim has to be awake and conscious for the draining process…

The agent shook her head as if to try and get that unpleasant thought from her head. But the reasons for the drug usage didn't matter by itself, not now. What mattered was figuring out how it was administered, and preventing them from using it on her.

"Fortunately," Celestia said, derailing Sweetie Drops train of thoughts. "The victims were treated in time and are on track to make a full recovery. Though they seem to have lost their memories of the day of the incident."

That made the agent pause.

Partial amnesia. Could it be a side effect of the drug, or the draining process? Or was there still more to this?

First, the agent felt a tinge of dread sneak up on her, before she pushed it away with anger - a much more productive emotion than fear.

For if she was to face a mage capable of forcing their will on the minds of others, fear would not save her, but anger just might.

"Unfortunately," Celestia said sadly, "the same can't be said about the third victim - an as yet unidentified body found floating in the Cudson river yesterday evening."

There was a shocked silence as Sweetie Drops scanned her thin file once more.

That was not in my dossier.

With a flourish of her horn, the princess levitated another file into the view of the array, before she lit it on fire.

A second later, the same file materialized next to the agent, who immediately began flipping through it.

"On the order of the guards investigating the other two cases, the body was not only autopsied, but also scanned with the same method used on the previous victims. You can see the results."

And the results she saw.

First were the pictures taken before the autopsy.

Sweetie Drops was surprised just how normal the picture of the body- the victim, the agent corrected herself - looked. A blue pegasus mare, about her age. Stay a little older. The stay in the river apparently hadn't damaged her much. She seemed as if she was asleep, except with her eyes open.

Those eyes made the agent stop. Those sad, teal eyes. No, not sad. Empty.

And forever, they would remain so.

Under the photo were the scans themselves. And even though they were somewhat fuzzy, they still showed clear signs of no remaining magical reserves, enough to be lethal.

The agent was about to put the papers down when she noticed some crossed-out writing - scribbles really - on the coroner's report.

Body shows clear signs of magical exhaustion, it read, and not-so-clear signs of malnutrition.

The agent stared at the writing, confused.

Why does that sound familiar?

Celestia cleared her throat, the agent turned to the alicorn as she opened her mouth to speak.

"There isn't much to connect the victims," Celestia said. "They belong to different age groups, have different living conditions and occupations. There's no common thread between the twins and the mysterious mare. Except for witness statements indicating all three victims were regulars of the Cauliflower."

The alicorn took a deep breath,

"Normally, the Manehattan police would be leading this investigation, but considering the strange circumstances around this case, I believe it's a matter of national security. So it falls to us."

The agent's eyes flashed as something clicked.

"How can we have witness statements for the third victim if she's still unidentified?"

Celestia smiled.

"I believe I may have misled you, agent," Celestia spoke with an almost amused tone, if one could ignore the hint of very real anger underlying it. "We do know an identity of the third victim. Her name was Soft Blossom, a pegasus mare from Trottingham. She used to live in Happy Canters apartment block on Farrier Hill, was well liked by her neighbors and community, and, apparently, never existed."

The alicorn's horn lit up and, in a shower of golden flame, summoned another stack of papers.

"This is all the paperwork establishing Soft Blossom's existence. From birth certificate to her school diplomas. And all of them are forgeries."

The alicorn frowned.

"I hate to admit it, but that term does them a disservice," the princess said. "I'm sure that if they fell into the hooves of your average government worker, they wouldn't be able to tell the difference."

Celestia gave a predatory smirk.

"But while I'm loath to brag, I'm not the average government worker, I’m the government worker."

The princess turned to Sweetie Drops. The agent was silent, focusing on the files and the medical report as she rifled through them once more.

"Well, what do you think it means, agent Sweetie Drops?"

The agent cleared her throat, eyes fixated on the picture of a blue pegasus mare - just a few years younger, smiling and alive.

Soft Blossom, remember that name.

"I believe we've already found the pony responsible for the anonymous tip that saved the twins' life," Sweetie Drops said. "A pony from the inside that went against the rest of the conspiracy."

The agent's head lifts up to meet Celestia's gaze.

"And she paid with her life."

Celestia gave a grim nod.

"Your mission is clear, agent Sweetie Drops. Covertly infiltrate the Cauliflower, uncover evidence of misdoings, and get out. You're to be our scout so we don't walk blindly into a trap. Don't raise suspicion. They don't know we're onto them. Don't lose that advantage."

The rune array light dimmed as the connection was cut, but the princess' two last words echoed through the basement.

"Good luck."

Author's Note

We’re getting into the plot twists zone and I’m excited because things are about to get…fun.

The end is near.

In other news, It's Christmas and I’m starting to regret several life choices. Anyway, this chapter was a bit shorter than usual, so yeah. On the other hand, the next chapter is going to be extra thick so it probably balances out.

Also, if anybody is confused about the timeline, this is happening slightly before and concurrently with the previous two chapters - chapter twenty opened with Anon having peaceful sleep and in this we learned the reason why. (that's not a plot twist or anything, I just had to remember that detail to use it later for this scene for two months and it got really annoying, so now I'm just happy I finally got it out of my brain.)

Chapter Twenty-Three: Manehattan Morning

In the midst of the old Manehatten docks sat a red brick square.

Outwardly, this particular red brick square wasn't that much different from any of the other brick squares around it. Like many of them, it was a former warehouse. Again, not being used as a warehouse anymore didn't make this brick square special. Almost none of the old warehouses were in use anymore.

No. What made it special was what it had been turned into.

Years ago, the Old Manehattan Docks were still known just as the Manehattan docks. But Manehatten was a great, big and growing city and the old harbor soon became too small to keep up with its needs. Thus began the construction of the newer, much bigger docks, rather sensibly named the New Docks. (Celestia really needs to get better with names)

And so the story of the Old Docks ended and with it, the warehouse abandoned as the old docks began bleeding business. The warehouses here seemingly fated for either demolition or dereliction.

Except that didn't happen. Something much worse did.

The Old Docks became popular with tourists.

The docks had their own unique architecture, style and feel, something that inevitably invited ponies who chased new things - despite the best attempts of the locals to dissuade them. And these thrill chasers, who were looking for things that are new, then in turn invited the ponies who make new things into things that are popular.

Though many would argue that a slow, painful transformation into a tourist trap was a fate worse than merely fading away into blessed obscurity, many ponies inflicted with a more…entrepreneurial spirit saw the opportunity and grabbed it. And then they milked it. And then continued milking it until all that remained was a shriveled husk. (But that's enough about the Manehatten tourism board.)

Some of those spirited ponies saw just what the Old Docks were becoming and bought that red brick square in those docks with the intention of turning it into a nightclub, which became fairly successful, gaining popularity with locals and tourists alike.

Or at least, that was the story they were trying to sell.

Sweetie Drops put away a stack of papers - mostly building permits and blueprints. She wouldn't want to get lost in the building she was supposed to break into, after all, like she almost did when she snuck into the archive to ‘retrieve’ them.

Yes, she could technically just ask them to give her the papers, but there was always a risk of a mole warning the conspirators that she was onto them.

And also, where would be the fun in that?

Now, this is interesting, the agent thought as she arrived at a particular part of the paperwork relating or mentioning the Cauliflower. Or more importantly, the part that was conspicuous due to its absence of any mentions of Cauliflower.

There were no write-ups or issues in any of the paperwork she stole.

Anypony working for city administration should have just glanced at the place’s lack of records and immediately investigated them for possible money laundering or drug trafficking. At some point, life would just happen. A drunken brawl, a bad review by the hygiene inspection, ESHA (Equestrian Safety and Health Administration) writing them up for having a fire extinguisher two months out of date, a tax mishap. Anything.

And yet, nothing. The Cauliflower had a pristine record.

Impossible. In Manehattan?

She was sure she didn't miss anything. To Sweetie Drop, this lack of record could only mean one thing. Somepony went through great lengths to not stand out. To never rock the boat, being extremely careful not to bring any attention to themself. Why?

Because they were hiding something.

And stepping into the neon light cast by the Cauliflowers entrance sign, was Sweetie Drops, looking to find exactly what that was.

The agent furrowed her brow and hid the documents she was reading (Well, for a very loose definition of ‘hide’. She rolled them in a newspaper and then threw them into a dumpster, she had the blueprints memorized by now and found no reason to haul them around anymore) before looking up at the sign and sighing.

The sign was a giant, ugly green thing glowing in the early hours of a misty Manehattan morning.

It looked like a mare holding a cauliflower.

Because of course it did.

Well, at least I know I got the right address.

Standing under said sign was a large stallion with an even larger mustache in a fitting suit. The bouncer was trying his best to look intimidating and not bored out of his mind, only succeeding partially.

And behind him were the big metal double doors she needed to go through.

Sweetie Drops put on a smile and straightened her shoulders.

Hope this works.

The agent had already disposed of the first disguise she used to get into the Manehattan archive unnoticed. (It consisted of a terrible shirt with a red heart and the words 'I love Manehattan' written over it, saddlebags full of the clunkiest, loudest stuff she could find. Because if she could ever rely on something, it was the fact that ponies had an uncanny ability to excuse tourists wandering into places they shouldn't.) She had shed that disguise in favor of a simple, yet very elegant and tasteful cocktail dress from Rarity, alongside some very untasteful and garish earrings and large and obnoxious golden necklace.

It hurt her soul to wear a nice dress and ruin it with bad jewelry, but she had appearances to make. Too classy and she wouldn't fit in with this kind of a business. She had to balance it somehow.

The agent sighed again, promising herself to make it up to Rarity - even if the mare would never know. It was about the principle of the matter.

I wonder if she would design a wedding gown…

Sweetie Drops shook her head. She would have time for that later. Right now, she had to get past the bouncer.

The agent took a confident step forward, doing her best to not slow down even as the bouncer got in her way.

"Excuse me? I believe there is a party past these doors, one I should very much like to attend,” Sweetie Drops said in her best imitation of a Canterlot accent - which sounded almost the same as her very real Canterlot accent. She had grown up in Canterlot, after all–but just a little more obvious so that others who heard it realized it was a Canterlot accent.

"It’s a private party,” the bouncer said, tapping at the clipboard with his front hoof. “Your name?"

The bouncer paused and looked up from the clipboard with the empty, uninterested stare of a stallion who regretted many things in his life, but mainly the lack of caffeine in said life at the moment. "The name also needs to be on the list. Just so we’re clear."

The agent smiled.

The bouncer, for reasons only known to him, had decided to adhere to a certain stereotype and wear sunglasses, despite there being no need to wear sunglasses at five in the morning.

More importantly, the sunglasses had the reflection of the clipboard in them and, while the names there were hard to read, she didn't need to get it spot on, only close enough.

"Candy Floss,” the agent lied effortlessly. “Does that happen a lot? Ponies trying to get in?"

The bouncer's shoulders sagged as he let out a long- suffering sigh.

“More often than I would like,” he muttered, before shaking his head and suddenly stopping. His nostrils flared and his expression changed.

The agent grit her teeth, reaching a hoof into her mane for a hidden weapon, muscles tensing and on hair trigger.

The bouncer suddenly leaned forward, his mustache twitching like an angry caterpillar. The agent stiffened, weapon nearly drawn,

Then the guard sniffed.

"Oh, you're- You know you could have just gone through the back, right?”

The agent stared at the bouncer, barely able to hide her confusion.

“I–”

“Wait, don't tell me,” the bouncer inputted, face-hoofing. “You forgot the password. Again.”
A few things clicked in the agent's mind.

He thinks I'm one of them.

Sweetie Drops held herself from smiling. It could have been a trap but, if they really had genuinely mistaken her for one of their own, her job just got a whole lot easier.

“Well, I just-” the agent tried.

“Nope,” the burly bouncer cut her off. “Go in. I can’t deal with that now,” he looked from side to side, making sure nopony else was listening. “We have quotas to fill after all.”

The bouncer quickly scribbled something on a piece of paper.

It was a four-digit code. One that led, presumably, through the back entrance.

“Well?” the bouncer said, the paper held in his hoof expectantly while the agent stared in mute shock.

“Ehm, thanks,” she finally managed.

“Don't let this happen again,” the bouncer chastised her as he opened the doors.

“Don’t worry,” the agent said with a hidden smile. “It won’t.”

The agent waited when the bouncer opened the door for her, stepping into the building - part of her expected an ambush, but after a few moments of awkward tension, nothing happened.

That…went suspiciously well.

The agent smirked.

Now comes the fun part.

Sweetie Drops had to admit. The inside of the Cauliflower looked much more impressive than what she expected seeing it from the outside.

That didn't mean much by itself; It'd be hard to not be more impressive than a bare brick square with a flat roof. But the night club really did look good and far more alive than what she thought for this type of place. The dance floor was glowing with green and purple lights, the tables and chairs looked brand new and very comfortable and the artwork on the walls was certainly…there.

All in all, It seemed like the kind of place Vinyl Scratch would enjoy. The DJ there was even playing something very similar to her music - rhythmic electronic beats that were reverberating through everypony and everything, including the dancing crowd.

A dancing crowd. That surprised the agent.

It was, ironically, a bit late for a nightclub to be this active. At five in the morning, she would expect that the only activity the members of the crowd would be doing is evacuating the contents of their stomachs into a toilet, or failing that, any nearby flower pots. She wouldn't expect them…well, Sweetie Drops wouldn't exactly call it dancing. It looked more like convulsing to the beat of the music, but the club was definitely far more active than what she would expect at this hour

She filed this information away for later and headed straight for the bar.

Sweetie Drops sat down on an uncomfortable bar stool and started looking for a target - somepony who had the right combination of familiarity with the bar, drunkenness and openness to a stranger asking them a few innocent questions.

She instead found something far more interesting.

Looking around the lounge, sitting on one of the cushioned seats lining the walls, was a brown earth pony stallion with a winged horseshoe for a cutie mark. Said stallion had a droopy smile and was currently drinking a colorful cocktail from a glass that looked like the glassblower had hiccups while making it. This wasn’t what was strange about him, though.What was strange was the lack of color in his eyes and in his coat. He looked tired and like he was about to fall asleep at any time. Not that unusual in ponies who had probably just spent their night partying, but…

Weakness, lack of energy, vanishing colors…

Sweetie Drops didn't need to be an expert to recognize symptoms of magical exhaustion when she saw them.

"Hey, is this seat free?" Sweetie Drops asked the stallion while pointing at an empty seat at his table. The stallion gave a lazy shrug. His eyes went over the agent before he snorted and waved his hoof.

"Probably not,” he said, chuckling. “Somepony had to pay for it at some point, right?”

Sweetie Drops gave a small, fake smile, mostly choosing to ignore the offensively-bad joke.

She had enough of that back home.

“Name Quick Step, by the way,” the now-identified stallion said. “Yours?”

“Floss,” the agent lied easily. “Candy Floss.”

The agent settled into the seat, instantly feeling watched. She sat and absorbed the sounds and sights for a while - the dancing ponies, the bright lights, the beats of the music that made her wanna move to the rhythm.

Something stirred in her, something that wanted to join the crowd under the stage and dance with them.

And some other part of her wanted to scream, run, and never look back.

She went over those feelings, trying to find their shape. She at least recognized that part of her that wanted her to run. That ancient instinct of her prey species ancestor, developed in the untold millennia when recognizing kin was key to survival. Now it mostly made puppets and ponnyquins look creepy and wrong. Uncanny was the word she was looking for. The whole club place made her feel like that. It was false. Not a real place, but as a convincing imitation of a place. A stage. A trap.

But that didn't worry the agent. The opposite, really; wanting to run from a den of monsters only meant that she was still sane.

What worried her was the part that wasn't afraid. The alien, strange part that wanted to join the dance and throw her concerns away.

She was mostly worried that said part wasn't even hers to begin with.

"Nice place, ain't it?" Quick Step suddenly said. Jarred out of her musings, the agent flinched and faced him. He was staring at her through glazed, tired eyes.

"It does have its…charm,” the agent replied slowly, choosing and weighing each word carefully.

She did not know who was listening, after all.

"Yeah, once you visit the Cauliflower, you just have to keep coming back,” Quick said, sipping on his drink while staring at the little umbrella stuck in it. “It's great."

Well, that's not ominous at all, Sweetie Drops thought while nodding along.

"Though, I probably need to curb my drinking,'' Quick continued, oblivious to Sweetie Drops’ discomfort. “It's getting annoying not remembering anything in the morning."

The agent tilted her head.

"That doesn't sound healthy. How many did you have?"

Quick waved his hoof dismissively at her. "Oh, just the one."The agent shot him an incredulous look.

"The one," Sweetie drops said, staring at the blabbering, swooning-in-chair, clearly-inebriated stallion.

"Yup,” agreed Quick with an easy nod. “I just like dancing and the music. I'm not a big drinker myself. But I always have one drink before I leave. The stallion scratched the back of his head nervously. “I, eh, feel bad otherwise."

Not a hangover amnesia then. He must have been under the influence of whatever is draining ponies here.

"Interesting," the agent muttered.

"Really? To me, it sounds kinda boring," Quick admitted, taking another sip of his probably-poisoned drink. The agent grimaced–internally, of course. She had to keep her composure while on a mission.

Sweetie Drops was about to continue asking innocuous questions when from the corner of her eye she noticed something strange. A mare –earth pony, like herself– walked up to a pony sitting by a table behind Quick Step, briefly talking to the stallion before getting up and leading him towards the back of the nightclub.

Which wouldn't be so suspicious until a server stumbled while carrying drinks, spilling them all over a group of ponies and creating quite a scene.It could have been a coincidence. Ponies went about doing their… activities in nightclubs and servers spilled drinks. Nothing strange about it.

That was until the server smirked and winked towards the mare leading the other pony away.

“Sorry, be right back,” Sweetie Drops said towards Quick, getting up and following the mysterious mare towards where she was heading.

For about three steps until she was stopped by yet another stranger.

"Hey there pretty,” drawled yet another mare in what Sweetie Drops guessed was supposed to be a sultry voice, but had too much spit in her mouth to pull it off.

“I don't have time for this,” the agent muttered while trying to push around her and not to lose a line of sight on the mystery mare leading the other pony away.

And then she shivered as she felt something brush against her mind.

Wait, were her eyes always green?

"Oh c'mon. You know you want me," the strange mare attempted again. Sweetie Drops took a deep breath, stepping away from the mare.

The other mare's muzzle turned into a frown and then into a snarl “What is happening, why it isn't working? What are you-”

The mare's eyes grew wide. It was there, for a second, where she realized that Sweetie Drops knew, and then Sweetie Drops realized that she knew that she knew. And then she realized that Sweetie Drops knew, that she knew, that she knew.

Mind control can be confusing.

The mare opened her mouth, clearly about to shout something. But Sweetie Drops was already prepared.

With one impossibly fast motion of the agent's front hoof, the other mare found her legs pulled out from under her and falling into Sweetie Drops embrace.

Where the agent pressed a key nerve point in her neck in an effort to painlessly immobilize her.

The mare went stiff.

And promptly started snoring.

The agent curled a brow at the now soundly-sleeping mare and then shrugged.

Strange. That's not what that nerve is supposed to do in ponies, but I’ll take it.

Sweetie Drops quickly scanned her surroundings, trying to see if anypony watched the scene unfold. Seeing that the party continued without anypony paying her much attention, she released a breath she didn't know she’d held.

she hefted the unconscious mare onto her shoulder.

The mare she originally went after meanwhile made it to the emergency exit. The bouncer standing there simply let both her and the stallion she was leading away through like it was nothing,

The agent's expression hardened.

Whatever operation the Cauliflower was a front for, it had already cost lives. She was going to stop it, wherever it would take.

To do that, she would pretend to be one of them.

And she now had a plan.

With that, the agent hefted the unconscious mare onto her shoulder and began carrying off her unwilling cargo to the bathroom.

Strong Hoof had had a boring day.

Of course, Strong Hoof wasn't even his name, just what his name tag told ponies his name was, but it didn't change the fact that his job was boring.

His job was to open doors.

Of course, that was a gross oversimplification.

He also had to look intimidating while he opened them.

“I’ve wasted my life,” Strong Hoof muttered.

But again, he wasn't even really Strong Hoof, so it wasn't even his life he was wasting, really.

“Ehm,” a blue earth pony mare suddenly standing in front of him cleared her throat, not really to get rid of any blockage but to get his attention.

"Excuse me sir,” said Sweetie Drops sweetly, hoping that her make-up skills were up to snuff and her plan worked. She motioned at the now-beige mare slung over her shoulder. “I think my friend needs some fresh air."

Strange. He looks exactly like the front door guard. Are they brothers?

The bouncer snickered and went to open the door for her.

“Well, that was fast,” the bouncer commented as he went over to the doors again, laughing a little as the unconscious mare started to drool on Sweetie Drope’s shoulder. "She is really out of it, huh? Just don’t turn her into a vegetable. We had enough incidents for one week."

Sweetie Drops gave a curt nod, fighting the urge to turn the bouncer's face into a concave.

"Not much of a talker, are ya?" the bouncer asked, fishing for something in his pocket, the agent doing her best not to stare at what it was without being too obvious.

“Eh, dammit,” the bouncer swore.

“What?” Sweetie Drops asked.

The bouncer wilted.

“I forgot my keycard inside,” he sighed, then he gave the agent a sheepish look. “Eh, you know the password, perchance?”

Sweetie Drops started at the bouncer for a second, before stepping forward and punching in the code the first bouncer told her. The doors beeped and opened.

He gave her a thankful nod.

“Leave her in the back and dump what you gathered,” the guard said. “And you can take a break too, if you want.”

The agent shot him a look, tilting her head.

“Though we’re busy filling the quotas,” she spoke slowly and confidently - hoping she didn't accidentally break her cover.

Use the info they themself revealed. Appear calm and never panic.

The guard waved her off.

“Don't worry, chief won't bust ya. He’s too busy talking to higher ups,” he paused, looking around. “I heard the queen herself is getting involved.”

Queen? The agent thought. Queen of who?

Or what?

Despite her surprise at the revelation that this plot probably had backing of some unknown foreign government, Sweetie Drops kept her true emotions buried, cutting the guard a short nod and a thankful smile.

She carried the unconscious mare through the more muted and bare backstage area. The sounds of muffled music still came through the wall, but otherwise it was almost eerily quiet. Nothing out of the ordinary or that interesting jumped at her as worthy of further investigation.

Have to explore more.

But first she would have to find a safe spot to leave her unwilling cargo.

Dragging the unconscious mare along, she went into a long hall lined with doors and a stairwell at the end - undoubtedly leading into the upper office overlooking the podium.

Just by listening and smelling, she could deduce that the closest doors to her left led to the kitchen. So she slowly opened the doors to the right.

It was a broom closet.

The keys to it were still in the lock.

Smiling to herself, the agent swiftly went in, gagging the mare and binding her. It would take them some time to find her, judging by the dust around there, but she wanted to be extra sure. She broke the keys, throwing them at the unconscious mare. She then casually left the closet, locking it behind her with a motion of her hoof.

Sweetie Drops casually walked past them, avoiding eye contact and simply walking as if she belonged there.

The second she was behind the corner she let out a relieved sigh. This place rubbed her the wrong way. Why was everything in here a vomit shade of green?

The agent shifted in her disguise. This was all far too risky. And she had already seen enough to more than confirm their worst fears.

She looked up the stairs and at the doors inevitably learning into the room overlooking the dance floor.

Sweetie Drops expression grew grim.

She hadn’t become the best agent S.M.I.L.E.had by doing ‘enough’.

Slowly, she walked up the stairs, internally thanking the, of course, green carpet for muffling her hoof steps until she stood by the doors.

The doors themself appeared as fairly mundane, if sturdy, security doors with even sturdier locks. Her little trick with her hoof grip manipulating the insides of the lock wouldn’t help her here. The pins were too many and too heavy for it to work.

Sweetie Drops smiled.

Luckily for her, she wasn't a one trick pony.

It took a little digging to find it in her stolen saddlebag, but she did.The device looked like a large, silver coin, inscribed with meticulously carved runes.

Now, she just needed to get it through the still very locked doors.

Luckily, she already found the way.

The agent, once again, thanked whoever decided that installing a carpet in the secret base was not only not tacky but also a great idea that could not backfire in any way.

She slipped the enchanted coin under the carpet until its magic reached behind the soundproofed doors.

The bug successfully installed and her task here accomplished for the time being, she stepped back, walking away and looking for a safe space to activate the device.

She then noticed the doors next to the broom closet. Or more importantly, the green light escaping from under it.

The agent raised a brow.

Well, that looks important and interesting.

Still as casually as she could manage, Sweetie Drops opened the doors and walked in.

And then, she almost screamed.

The room was empty of anypony. Other than how painfully green it was, it looked almost boring.

As long as she ignored that, it appeared almost mundane. Brick walls, some chairs and benches with pillows haphazardly thrown onto them. Ponies laying on them in different stages of unconsciousness, their coats universally muted and almost without color.

And in the middle, it.

The best description she could come up with at the moment was a vat of vile, green liquid.

But that description lacked several important details. Like the fact that the vat was made from a jet black material that, impossibly, appeared to be pulsing, organic and alive. Or how the liquid was seemingly the only light source in the room.

And most importantly: there was a pony floating inside.

The agent rushed towards the floating pony. She tried to get, clawing and punching, even biting. She turned all her earth pony might into an effort to get them but the vat was far more resilient than it looked. Resisting each attempt at damaging it, the agent slump next to the vat, rage building in her with no way out. She had failed. She had failed. She had-

Then she noticed that the pony inside was breathing, their chest rising and falling rhythmically.

Sweetie Drops, ever so calmly and completely in control, walked backwards out of the room, her heart thrumming in her chest and her breakfast halfway to the exit already.

She needed to get out of here and alert the guards as fast as possible. Maybe even get the Princesses here. She was an agent of S.M.I.L.E, a good one, but she was still only one pony.

It was then she bumped into the bounce.

The stallion was apparently taking his own advice and took a break from guarding the back entrance.

“Eh, are you okay?” He asked hesitantly. “You don't look good.”

“Yeah, just…shook up,” the agent answered weakly.

The bouncer gave her a significant look. The agent steeled herself for what was about to come.

“Oh, I get it,” he said with sudden realization, taking the agent utterly off guard. “Sorry, you can't feed now. We have to wait for our rations.”

The agent gave an almost absent minded nod before the full weight of those words struck her.

Feed.

Bile raised in the agent's throat. Do they…eat ponies? Eat magic? Was that what they were doing? Gathering ponies and eating their magic?

And then entered one of the mares from the club proper - the short earth pony in a pretty, but ill-fitting pink dress she saw dragging off a stallion somewhere.

"Hey Palp,” the bouncer called out towards her. “How was your shift?”

Palp? What kind of name is Palp?

“Shut up,” was the grumbling response as the pink pony went straight towards the coffee machine.

The bouncer made a face.

“Ouch, that's bad?” he asked. An angry glare from Palp his answer.

“You’re lucky that you got put on guard duty and don't have to interact with ponies,” Palp shuddered. ”I hate when they get touchy. I get it. We need them, but I feel so dirty afterwards.”

She sighed and turned towards Sweetie Drops, the agent was trying to blend in with the wall and avoid the suspicious gaze of the strangely named mare .

“Tarsus, who is this?” Palp asked. “They have the standard disguise, but I don't know her smell.”

“A newbie,” Tarsus said casually. “Actually, I think she might be an infiltrator.”

Sweetie Drops froze.

The agent gulped, hidden weapon nearly out, every muscle of a hair trigger, ready to answer any aggression from them with adhesion of her own.

“Infiltrator?” Palp said incredulously, taking a step towards Sweetie Drops, the agent prepared to strike, muscles tensing and coiling like a snake ready to attack. “That's great!”

Sweetie Drops blinked.

…

What?

“Yeah, it was about time we got someling actually trained for undercover operations here,” the bouncer agreed. “I think right now it's just chief upstairs, and that's it for ‘lings trained for this stuff.”

The agent stared at them, glossing over their strange vocabulary (what does ‘someling’ mean?) while she went through a whole cocktail of emotions from the vague feeling of dread, confusion to professional anger.

It was almost offensive to her. An undercover operation manned by civilians? It explained the, quite frankly, frightening amount of security issues, but her professional pride demanded satisfaction!

“You’re not trained?” she almost hissed.

“Nope,” said Tarsus before he gave an awkward pause at the blank look he received from Sweetie Drops. ”I mean, we’re not totally without training. There was a course.” More silence, the giant started to shift uncomfortably under the weight of Sweetie Drops disapproving glare.

“A course,” the agent said slowly and with incredible incredulity.

“Well, yeah?” Tarsus answered, while tugging at his suddenly very tight shirt collar. “I’m supposed to be a builder, ya know? But with how things are back home, not many things are getting built, so I got pulled and resigned here to do security.”

Back home? So they are foreign, but from where?

“Same here. I wanted to be a nurse,” Palp piped up with a sheepish smile. “I always wanted to care for hatchlings, but with so little food,” she shivered before sighing sadly. “There just aren't enough little ones to justify having more nurses, so I got re-trained as a gatherer.”

…Hatchlings? What hatch-

“But why did they send an infiltrator here now?” Tarsus asked, interrupting the agent's train of thoughts. “Like a real one.”

Sweetie Drops paused. Things were clicking into place. This place didn't start as a catastrophe manned by untrained civies who barely knew what they were doing. The operation was too well entrenched and running flawlessly for too long for it to be the case. It turned into one, probably very recently, because whoever made decisions here had bigger plans and needed their trained pony-power elsewhere.

Cauliflower was just the tip of the iceberg. They were planning something bigger. And she still had no idea what. They had to bust this down, probably today because of what she saw - the pony floating in that pod was reason enough - but if they did so, it wouldn't stop the bigger plan.

She needed to know more. She needed to make them talk.

A mare found dead. One of their own murdered…

“There was a security breach,” the agent said, gauging their reaction as she spoke. “Few ponies from here were found incapacitated by Equestrian authorities, and it raised some suspicions.”

Palp shifted, averting her eyes from the agent. Sweetie Drops turned to her, her eyes narrowing.

“You know something,” Sweetie Drops said. It wasn't a question.

“I-I…It's not my fault,” Palp said, her voice shaking and weak.

“Palp, calm down,” Tarsus attempted, but the smaller mare flinched as he moved towards her.

“I was hungry!” She defended herself from accusations that were not coming. “I…we don't get enough rations and I- I didn't want to hurt them! I just wanted to eat!”

“And what about the mare?” Sweetie Drops cut her off, voice cold as ice.

Palp mouth went shut, hear head hanging in shame.

This was her best chance to learn what in Tartarus was happening in this place. It was risky, but she was already on her way out.

“This incident gathered…attention,” Sweetie Drops continued. “Attention we want to avoid, “ she motioned her hoof towards upstarts nonchalantly.. “Actually, I'm pretty sure the call from our queen is about this.”

“You-” Tarsus began.

“Now, you wouldn't threaten me, would you?” Sweetie Drops said sweetly. “Because that would be very…foolish.”

Tarsus snarled, coming forward - ready to give the agent a piece of his mind.

“She is dead, isn't she? Tenna is dead”

Both of them stopped, Tarsus' face softened. The agent simply stared at the smaller mare.

“Palp, It's not your fault.” Tarsus said, but Palp only gave a laugh - a single, pathetic, hysterical laugh.

“You’re wrong,” she said, her voice breaking, she was on the verge of crying. “I…Tenna saw me feed on them. She didn't want to leave those… those ponies to die. She-she wanted to save them and…she called for help.”

Palp turned towards Sweetie Drops.

“That's why Tenna vanished, didn't she?” she said sadly. “Because she couldn’t do the smart thing. And I… I did.”

Tarsus froze, staring at her. Suddenly, something clicked in the giant bouncer's mind and the anger - still bubbling at the surface from his near confirmation with the agent - reemerged anew.

“You- you ratted her out,” Tarsus said in quiet disbelief, hoping that Palp will at least try to convince him otherwise.

She just nodded.

“Tenna was our friend!” he spat. “How could you!”

“I had to!” Palp finally spoke. “If I didn't, they would go after me!”

“What's going on here?”

Tarsus and Palp froze, gulping. Their eyes wide with fear.

Sweetie Drops simply turned to face the newcomer.

Dignified was the first word that came to mind while looking at him.

The second was dangerous.

A unicorn - at least outwardly, Sweetie Drops wasn't sure that they even were ponies at this point - with minty green fur and red eyes that bore into her with almost palpable force.

“Who is she?” he said towards the now trembling Palp and Tarsus, the two shrinking and backing away from him in fear. Even Sweetie Drops had to suppress an urge to shudder as he spoke.

It was his voice.

There wasn't a dangerous edge to it. No barely hidden contempt or hatred.. His voice was utterly and absolutely blank, devoid of anything. No hint of personality or emotion. Listening to him speak was like being forced to hear and understand static.

It made the agent skin crawl and head ring.

“She is the new arrival?” Tarsus said unsurely.

“We’re not scheduled for any new personnel,” the newcomer said, dashing the agent's hopes of fooling him with one sentence. “Who is she?”

And then he moved forward, his nostrils flaring.

He stopped and blinked.

“Impossible,” he said, voice still monotone, but with some hidden edge lurking underneath it. “You're dead. My daughter is dead-”

And finally, his face betrayed a hint of emotion:

Rage.

“Who are you?” he snarled.

The change in his demeanor was so abrupt the agent was thrown for a loop. Same for the two conspirators, who just stared in shock.

It was in that moment of genuine surprise she let her emotions get the better of her, forgetting her training and letting the wall of will and determination she built to hide them crumble just a little.

But just a little was more than enough.

She felt it, she was trained to notice it. The little foreign presence poked at her mind. She put up her defense. It wasn't enough.

Their minds met.

His was stronger.

The unicorn tore through Sweetie Dropse’s thoughts. It was a spell he had mastered over the years. He had to, in his line of work. Couldn't leave ponies remember things they didn't want them to remember, after all. This one was just…more extreme than his usual fare.

The agent staggered backwards, the strength suddenly gone from under her legs. She fell and stared at the green light enveloping everything.

Mind related magics are a subtle art. Unpredictable in a sense.

The vast majority of minds do not work solely in terms of language. Emotions, pictures, concepts and ideas are all there.

Sweetie Drops thought of many things in that moment as the not-unicorn standing above her tried to erase her mind - she thought of her duty, of her friends. Of the life she wanted.

Of Anon and Spring Break. Of a green filly that had every right to be angry, but deserved to be happy.

The agent grit her teeth, the green glow started to envelop her mind, new thoughts and feelings started to emerge. Feelings that were not hers. Thoughts that felt alien but also not…wrong.

And she thought of Lyra. Of the song she wrote for their first date. Of her face when she smiled.

Let go, something else thought,

Bon Bon took a long, deep breath.

No.

Tarsus' eyes grew wide. He took a step back - good, more space for her to move.

Bon Bon moved.

“Sir, I think it isn't working!” Tarsus yelled, but the commander stayed still. His expression turned back to a blank mask. But in his eyes, there was something. A realization.

Something in his mind clicked. A puzzle piece falling into place to create the full picture.

Bon Bon stood up. Freed from the pressure on her mind, the green glow of the commander's horn fading.

Sweetie Drops saw the opportunity in the split second the commander was distracted, calculated her odds and chose the most rational course of action available to her in the heat of the moment.

Sweetie Drops kicked him in the throat.

She spun, using her hindlegs to deliver the strongest blow she could right into the chief neck. The green unicorn folded like a house of cards, choking and gasping for air on the floor a few feets further back where he was thrown by the sheer force of the agent's kick.

Green flames. A body of an insect, looking like something out of a horror story. Amber eyes.

Palp shrieked. Tarsus did something almost as useless - he dove in to avenge his fallen commander.

Sweetie Drops dodged, tripping the charging guard and knocking him out with a single strike to the back of his head.

Get to the exit, contact the guards, fast!

The agent let the unconscious body of Tarsus slump to the ground with a loud thud, not wasting a second to look behind her, simply gunning it for the exit.

A rather loud click sounded from behind the agent. Sweetie Drops turned sharply expecting to see a coming enemy, only to see the doors were now locked shut. There didn't need to be a blaring alarm or a red emergency light to tell her she was discovered.

In the corner of the room, Sweetie Drops finally noticed Palp, shivering and trying to hide herself and the broken glass that previously covered the “fire” alarm button.

Sweetie Drops seriously doubted it called the fire brigade.

Silent alarm, of course I missed that they have a silent alarm!

Palp whimpered as Sweetie Drops slowly approached, ready for the pain.

It never came.

Palp blinked, only seeing the reopened emergency exit, the lock and the armored doors proving inadequate obstacles.

Carefully, she got up and looked outside, searching for the agent.

She did not find Sweetie Drops in the back alley behind the Cauliflower, or out in the slowly filling streets of the waking city of Manehattan. The agent had vanished into the morning mist whence she came, leaving Palp-the-changeling alone with a hard decision to make.

Author's Note

Kept you waiting, huh?

Chapter Twenty-Four: Mark That Binds

”Sir, we're almost done.”

The commander nodded, his expression as blank and unreadable as ever. The poor ling giving the report shuddered.

They'd all had their hooves full with preparing the Cauliflower for evacuation when, for reasons unknown to him, the commander requested him by name. Which could mean many things, but certainly nothing good.

Strictly speaking, changelings are physically unable to sweat. This did not stop this poor soul from trying.

Don't look, don't look, don't look-

The chief ignored him for now, as his focus was dedicated to a figure bound to a chair in front of him. The hum of magic filled the room - it was the only sound, if one discounted the underling’s anxious breathing - and sickly green power reached from the commander's horn. Ripping, tearing, and obliterating everything it touched. Every memory. Every bit of personality. Until nothing remained but a thoughtless, empty drone.

Why? Why didn't you just run when you had the chance?

”We're ready to extract,” the ling continued, desperately wanting to hear something other than that terrible hum, even if it was his own voice. ”Just awaiting further orders, commander sir.”

It was strange to this ling. The commander remained in his unicorn form even now, while using magic so alien to ponies.

Thinking about it, he never saw the commander out of disguise. Ever. Of course, they all tried to keep their disguises as long as possible; shifting costs magic, and using more magic meant more hunger. But watching a unicorn do what the commander was doing was simplytoo wrongon too many levels.

Or maybe it was just him, who couldn't link a pony face, even the commander's false one, to the word murderer.

”Good.” The commander answered, tone unaffected and casual. ”Burn it all, leave nothing behind.”

The underling gulped, risking a glance at the corner of the room where the other one ‘rested’.

Motionless. Blank. Empty.

”And… them?” the ling asked quietly.

The commander's face hardened.

”I reiterate,” the commanders said. ”Burn it all. Leave. Nothing.”

Tarsus. Palp.

No, the ling realized. It was not them. Palp and Tarsus were his friends. The lings with whom he shared a cramped living space, with whom he saw every sunrise, and with whom he joked and laughed about the mundane absurdities of their existence. And they weren't here anymore. What was with him in this room were just… shells.

You went back for a pony. Because leaving them behind would mean dooming them. Because you feared becoming monsters. Because you were sick of them making us into monsters.

You wanted to do what was right.

And now, you're gone.

It was a strange train of thought for him. This ling never thought of himself as particularly rebellious. He conformed. He said and did what was expected of him, kept his silly musings to himself, and survived. That’s what everyling did, really. They were changelings. They adapted, and they survived.

Sure, it was sad when they had to hurt ponies. But that was just a part of being a changeling, right? Many lings hated ponies. Hated them for not knowing true hunger, hated them for living such easy lives. And hated them because someling else told them to.

But he didn't hate ponies. Not really. If anything, he envied them a little. Sometimes he even wished he could be a pony for real. (Something which he was a little embarrassed about and only told his brother about, who laughed at him for a little before he got really serious and told him to keep it to himself and absolutely never tell anyling. His brother could be a little prickly like that.)

Yes. This ling didn't hate ponies. But as he stared at the corpses of his two friends, he was starting to think he might hate the hive and those who ruled it.

I'm sorry. Palp. Tarsus. Friends. You deserved better.

…We all deserve better.

”My my, haven't you made a proper mess of things.” came a sultry voice from a black crystal sitting on the commander's desk, startling the ling and stopping his musings in their tracks.

He knew the voice. Everyling in the Hive knew that voice.

The chief harrumphed while the underling's eyes bugged out in lymph-chilling horror.

”My Queen,” the commander stated with the same easy indifference he showed to everyone. ”I assure you that while the loss of Cauliflower is unfortunate, it was inevitable.”

Chrysalislaughed. The queen actually laughed. At this point, the poor ling didn't know if he should question his commander's sanity, or his own.

”Inevitable?” the queen asked, her voice sounding almost amicable, if not for the sarcasm dripping from each syllable like the most vicious venom. ”Is that what you call your failures now, marshall?”

The ling gulped. Was the queen talking about… that? Were the rumors actually true?

”Yes,” the chief answered, ignoring the jab. ”With untrained, unprofessional personnel who don't follow orders and don't even know how to dispose of bodies properly, our discovery was only a matter of time.”

The underling stared at the commander, mouth agape in disbelief.

This was how the commander talked to the queen? Did he want to end up in a recycling vat?

He paused. It was plausible. He never believed in those rumors, but if it was truly him - if this was truly the former marshall of the hive…

He had lost everything - his accomplishments struck from the wall of deeds, his titles stripped, and his very name forbidden. Ending up relegated to run an insignificant love gathering facility for the rest of his life, denied even the dignity of death - of returning his magic to the Hive.

The commander stepped closer to the crystal, his face betraying nothing.

”I've warned you repeatedly, my queen,” - the commander somehow managed to say the word queen like it was an insult, despite his voice staying as monotone as always - ”that upping love gathering quotas was unsustainable from the beginning. Reassigning my trained lings elsewhere only exacerbated the issue.”

The underling gulped. A pause fell on the room. The oily black crystal on the commander's desk was silent for a moment, waiting to deliver its judgment.

”Why did you call me, ex-marshall?” The queen spoke again, her voice sharp as a dagger.

”I have new information,” the commander answered simply.

”New information?” Chrysalis said, and he would swear he heard the queen smirking through the crystal, clearly amused by the notion. ”What information could you have that is of any interest to me?”

”I've learned of a method to remove the alicorn princess. Permanently.”

Again, silence befell the room. The commander turned to the underling, who stood off to the side, still quietly hoping that he had somehow learned to turn into a chameleon, or failing that, a potted plant.

”Start the evacuation,” the commander said to him. ”Make your way to the safe house. I will join you shortly.” The ling gave him a quick salute. His head swam with thoughts and conflicting emotions, so he was more than eager to get away from this situation.

Everyling in the Hive had felt for a while that something big was coming. The infiltrators were assigned en masse to secret missions noling knew anything about. Their love gathering was becoming more and more aggressive to fulfill greater and greater demands, without anyling ever tasting one surplus drop. The masquerade protocol was breaking and the Queen hardly seemed to care.

He now knew why.

She is preparing for war.

”And Thorax?” the commander said suddenly, his back still turned to the ling. The changeling in question froze, fear gripping his heart.

He didn't believe the rumors. Not at first. But if they were true...

The scourge of the Eastern Hive. He who makes them kneel. For we render unto Queen's will, her enemies we slay. But for the Willbreaker's foes, we can only pray.

”Yes, sir?” Thorax managed to say, his voice brittle and trembling.

”Don't let me catch you having doubts again,” the commander said, motioning for the doors. ”Dismissed.”

Thorax gave a small bow, backing off of the room.

And then he tripped.

The commander scoffed and shook his head. Thorax was mortified as he got up, muttering apologies and further tripping over his own hooves in his haste and panic.

Then he noticed the lump on the carpet over which he tripped.

And the shining silver coin laying there.

Thorax grabbed it and exited the room without saying another word, leaving the Queen and Marshall to plan and scheme their war.

Special Agent Sweetie Drops wasn’t having a good day. .

And, to her great displeasure, it was getting worse.

Her head was pounding. Her teeth itched. She was battered, tired and on the verge of trying to stab her seat cushions. Everything was getting hazy and, right now, she was furious.

The Cauliflower was no more.

She tried telling herself that she’d done what she could. Immediately after her escape, she’d rallied the guards and had them storm the building.

What they’d found was a smoldering ruin.

She’d failed her mission. Failed spectacularly, in fact. A group of magic-eating beasts were running amok in her homeland and she failed to stop them or uncover their plans.

Beasts? Are they truly?

They had found one remnant - the pony trapped in the vat. A guard found her wandering the streets in a daze. The only thing she remembered was green fire and a voice telling her to run.

And then there was the one who started this whole sorry thing. A deserter who freed another two of their victims only to end up floating down the Manehattan river without a boat.

Her name was Tenna. Like Antenna?

It all raised so many questions and she had no answers for any of them.

And so, when the agent made her way from the train to the platform of Ponyville station, her mind was entirely preoccupied with conflicting thoughts and emotions. No one could blame her for taking far too long to notice a certain speedy pegasus calling for her.

”Bon Bon!”

The agent stopped, turning sharply to see a mostly cyan blur flying towards her at a frankly ridiculous speed - but who came to a stop only a few feet away from her.

Now, Bon Bon didn't know Rainbow Dash that well. They were friendly, but they weren't really friends. Dash was more Lyra's friend, and they'd known each other even before Bon Bon moved to Ponyville.

But despite that, Bon Bon could immediately see that something had happened. Rainbow didn't look well. She was fidgety, panicked, and almost as disheveled as the agent was - and she'd just fought and escaped a secret invasion force, spent twelve bloody hours on a train, and hadn’t showered since yesterday.

Suffice to say, finding Dash waiting for her at the train station in that state rang all the alarm bells for the agent.

”Dash?” Bon Bon asked. ” What happened?”

”It's Spring,” Rainbow gasped out, nearly out of breath - she had probably flown all around Ponyville trying to find her until she saw the train come to the town and put two and two together.

”She's in the hospital.”

”–physically, there is nothing wrong with—.”

”–then why isn't she waking—!”

”–you don't know—!?”

”We tried the scanner. It blew the second we turned it on, its-”

”Ain't my fault,” Anon mumbled, the voices around her suddenly turned quiet. ”It was on fire when I got there, officer. I swear.”

Anon's eyes fluttered open, with her head spinning and stomach swimming. Everything felt fuzzy and something was weighing on her ribs. Something beige.

On instinct - her old, overtrained, and distrustful instincts - the jumper flinched, expecting pain or an attack or at least something bad to happen. But to her great confusion, bad things continued to not happen. It took an embarrassingly long moment before the gears spinning in Anon's head finally clicked and things became clear.

Ah, that's just Bon Bon hugging me.

And then, on an entirely different instinct - one quite new and foreign to Anon - her own hoof moved and hugged the mare back. The jumper was suddenly overcome with a feeling of… safety? Because of course nothing bad was happening. Bon Bon was here.

”Spring!” came a yelp from a minty green, vaguely Lyra-shaped blur. ”Are you alright?”

Thrown back to reality, the jumper gave a nod, letting go of Bon Bon. ”Yeah, I’m just a little queasy-”

It was then when Anon realized she was lying on a bed in a clean white room being stared at by one very confused doctor and two of her very concerned parents guardians.

”Eh, this is probably a stupid question,” Anon said, suddenly feeling very foolish. ”But what happened?”

The adults exchanged another worried look.

”What do you remember?” Dr. Horse asked.

Anon fell silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts.

It all came back to her at once. Encountering Spoiled Rich on her way to school with Lyra. The trouble with Scootaloo during recess. She and her… allies? Associates? Friends? The three of them ending up as a team in a game of dodgeball with the cards stacked against them. She remembered Diamond coming up with a strategy and them winning together. She recalled the joy of playing and just… being.

And she remembered seeing Dinky lose control of her magic, creating the Dodgeball of Doom™, followed by the short but intense battle to restrain it and save the foals of Ponyville Elementary.

And then…

Memories of Fire and Rage and Hate, all poured into a single spell. It burned and scorched her insides and sizzled on her horn as she cast the magic outward. Following it was the sensation of a blowtorch against her guts and heart. The silver chain of her amulet prickled and stung the skin around her neck like nettle leaves. The Sun Orb contained in that silver trinket hummed and bristled with power-

”Oh…” Anon finally said. ”I think I overdid a spell and passed out.”

”You think?” Bon Bon almost growled.

Anon winced, her ears drooping as she withdrew. Bon Bon, for her part, immediately grimaced seeing Anon’s fearful expression.

”Spring,” Lyra said gently, placing a reassuring hoof on her fiance's shoulder as she spoke. ”You've been unconscious for four hours.”

Anon blinked, staring at the mare.

”Huh,” Anon said, in a spectacular display of both understatement and brevity. ”Hey, you think we'll still be late for tea with Spoiled Rich?”

”Spring!” Lyra exclaimed.

”What?” Anon asked innocently. ”It's a genuine question. We promised to be there.”

Bon Bon sighed, one hoof massaging her temple.

”You were caught in a surge and passed out,” Bon Bon said slowly. ”I'm sure your friend will understand.”

Anon shook her head. Staying here was out of the question.

Would Diamond understand? Probably yes. Her mother? Not so much.

”But I feel fine,” she argued. ”And I want to go.”

She didn't really feel fine. Her head felt like it was filled with cotton. The pain in her horn reminded her of the dull, aching pain she sometimes got from the worst of her scars.

And her flanks kept stinging - the sensation was similar to when she would sit on her leg too long and it would ‘fall asleep’. Just more pronounced and a lot more irritating.

Did it just change color? I swear it's a different shade of green than the rest of me…

Bon Bon sighed again, turning to Dr. Horse - who was busying himself with staring at a few charts and pretending he wasn't there.

”Doc, a little help?”

The doctor startled, nearly dropping his clipboard.

”Oh! Well, this is awkward,” the doctor said, rubbing the back of his neck while stepping away from the now agitated parents. ”You see, we kind of haven't actually found anything wrong with her?” The doctor grimaced at the deadpan glare Bon Bon was giving him. ”I would recommend caution, but as long as she gets some sugar into her to replenish her magic and avoids straining herself, she should be fine.”

”I'm right here, you know,” Anon quipped while hopping down from the bed. She turned towards the doctor. ”So? Can I go?”

Dr. Horse shrugged and motioned towards the doors.

”If your guardians allow it. Just let me get a nurse to give you your release papers.”

Lyra stopped, regarding the doctor with a strange look.

”Is everything alright, doctor?”

”Yes, yes,” the doctor waved her off absentmindedly. ”I’m just skimming through Spring's MRI results.”

”MRI?” Anon asked. She was pretty sure those were giant electromagnets and, considering she had yet to see electricity used en masse in Equestria, advanced technology like that didn't sound like something they would have access to.

”Magical Resonance Imaging,” the doctor explained. ”It’s the machine we use to scan pony's ley lines by sending waves of harmless, foreign magic at them. The pony's own natural magic resists the foreign magic, letting us detect the relative strength and position of your core and ley…lines…” Dr. Horse trailed off, noticing the blank look everypony else in the room was giving him. The doctor coughed. ”But that's neither here nor there.”

I thought it malfunctioned,” Bon Bon said.

”No, it didn't malfunction,” Dr Horse corrected. ”It exploded, violently, the second we pushed the ‘on’ button.” Dr. Horse waved the clipboard with the sheet of scan results. ”Luckily, Nurse Red Heart was able to retrieve some of the scan results from the wreckage. And by that I mean that the film reel hit her in the head after the blast.”

”What does it show?” Anon asked. ”Is something wrong with me?”

”Not to worry,” Dr. Horse said brightly. ”As far as I can tell you're a healthy unicorn filly, sans some remaining effects of malnutrition. It's the scan that is patently wrong. It's interesting from a purely academic point of view, but otherwise absolutely worthless.”

He gave her a smile.

”I mean, it's missing a large chunk of your soul.” The doctor laughed. Anon stared at him, beads of sweat building on her brow. ”Isn't that silly?” the doctor chuckled again.

Anon gave him a tight smile.

”Yeah. Silly.”

Lyra gulped, fear and worry (and was that guilt?) playing tug of war on her face.

”A large chunk?” the minty unicorn said slowly, worry creeping its way into her voice.

”Well, yes!” Dr. Horse said excitedly. ”But that's not the interesting part.”

The doctor flipped the scans and showed them to Lyra, pointing at them with his hoof.

”See these gray and white parts around the edges?” the doctor asked and Lyra nodded. ”It has been long theorized that damaged souls can regenerate, though nopony has ever captured the process. But theoretically, we suspect it would look exactly like this.”

The doctor scratched his head.

”But for the life of me, I can't figure out why it looks like there is an external force pushing the soul back together.” the doctor shrugged. ”It's probably just backlash from the explosion. Like I said - academically interesting, but of no medical value.”

Anon stood, frozen in place while the world around her continued to move. Healing? She was… healing?

That's impossible right? How or what could-

”Spring, you still have your amulet?” Bon Bon asked, to distract herself from the papers and forms brought by a very grumpy Nurse Redheart (Bon Bon made a point of ignoring the bump on her head and the fact she was glaring at Dr. Horse with murder in her eyes)

”Yup. Never took it off.” Anon affirmed, tapping a hoof on the warm, crystalline surface of the Sun Orb hanging around her neck. The enchanted necklace let out an almost musical ‘ting’ as she did.

”Are you sure you still want to go?” Lyra asked.

Anon nodded.

”Positive.”

Let's get this over with.

The Rich manor was exactly as its name suggested.

Big, opulent, and immaculate. It didn't exactly impress Anon, who had both visited and broken into bigger, more opulent, and more immaculate buildings in her time. (Though they tended not to stay that way after she was done with them.)

But while it failed to impressher, it did succeed in making her nervous as she stood by the almost glittering gate, overlooking the perfectly cut lawns and hedge mazes and the manor house itself.

”Miss Heartstrings and Miss Bon Bon, and of course Lady Spring, welcome the Rich manor. You’re expected,” said a stallion in what had to be the pony equivalent of a suit, opening the gate for them. Both of Spring's guardians grimaced at the butler's words.

Anon tilted her head.

Lady Spring? Why call me a lady and not Lyra or Bon Bon? They are the adults here.

There was something. A bit of trivia from before that was crawling its way into remembrance. Was it because she was still technically an orphan and thus a ward of the crown? That had to be it.

She shook her head. The customs of high society and their power plays were something so outside both her expertise and experience that they weren't even in the same orbit as her, admittedly, very limited interests. (She had two: explosives and food. Her bomb interest did sometimes intersect with the rich and powerful, if only for an instant.)

The butler - or was it a valet? - led them through the gardens and into the entrance of the manor.

”Spring!”

Out of the doors ran Diamond Tiara.

”You absolute idiot!”

Anon smiled.

”Hello to you too, Diamond.”

Diamond Tiara skidded to a halt in front of Anon. She had a dress - a frilly thing that made Anon’s eyes hurt. It glistened with gemstones like glitter.

And she looked very displeased.

”Don’t ‘hello’ me!” Diamond Tiara exclaimed. ”Do you have any idea how scared we were? You wouldn't wake up!”

”I’m fine,” Anon said, shrugging and wincing slightly - the pain in her horn was really starting to get grating. ”Being hard to kill is kinda my whole schtick.”

Diamond stared at her for a moment before facehoofing.

”That's not the point at all, you doofus.”

”Ahem.”

From the entrance of the manor came a strutting Spoiled Rich, her muzzle contorted into a sickeningly sweet smile that looked about as natural as the painted green lawn of her garden.

”It is so very good to see you,” the mare spoke, and the effect of her presence on Diamond became apparent immediately. The filly shrunk, slowly walking back until she was by her mother's side, her eyes quite obviously avoiding contact. ”You gave us all quite the scare.”

Anon nodded, more than a little shell-shocked by the ongoing developments around her.

This wasn't what she expected at all.

Ponies were nice. Mostly. That had been the truth in this world so far, though she couldn't really understand it. But a pony like Spoiled Rich pretending to be nice to her - while obviously struggling to keep a polite tone?

There was something at play. There had to be. A motive she wasn't seeing.

”But where are my manners? Please do come inside,” Spoiled Rich gestured towards the foyer of the manor. As her false smile turned towards Lyra and Bon Bon, the two mares quietly seethed where they stood.

Spoiled Rich’s eyes remained cold.

Anon took a deep breath and entered the manor.

”Mother, I thought I could show Spring my room,” Diamond said evenly, her posture firm, inflexible, a far cry from her usual energy. Spoiled Rich regarded her daughter with a scowl.

”Maybe later, dear.”

”But moth-”

”Later.”

Despite it only being less than thirty seconds, they finally arrived at the lounge - more of an alcove from the main hall than a room on its own. It only had a few chairs and one small coffee table where tea service and an elaborate platter with scones was already waiting for them, together with the butler (who somehow prepared it all in under a minute, or, more worryingly, had this all prepared in advance of their arrival.)

” Please take a seat. You simply must try this blend. It's imported all the way from Zebrica, you know.” (It wasn't, it was mostly discarded, terrible tea leaves sold by a pair of scammers, but the only one who knew how Zebrican tea should look was Bon Bon, and she very politely asked for coffee)

Four cups of tea were poured by the butler. Sugar was offered and accepted by Anon, who did not normally put sugar in her tea, but after one look at this particular leaf juice, decided to make an exception.

”Now that we’re here, I can give you this.” Spoiled Rich presented Anon with a piece of paper, engraved with more of the unreadable marks that made up the equestrian writing system.

”Thanks?” Anon said, shooting a desperate look at Lyra.

”It’s an invitation for Diamond’s and Silver Spoon’s cutie ceañera,” the minty mare answered her silent plea. More desperate looks from Anon.

”I... don't know what that is,” she finally admitted..

Sounds Spanish for some reason.

”It's a celebration for getting your cutie mark,” Diamond explained. “We - Silver and I - got ours today.”

Anon furrowed her brow. Diamond was right of course, there was now a mark on her flank.

Tiara? Kinda fitting. Probably for leadership, when thinking about it.

”I'm sorry you didn't get yours,” Diamond said. ”It would be cool if all three of us got it at the same time.”

Anon scoffed. She wouldn't get sad over something as small as not getting a mark. There was no reason to get upset over things she couldn't have. It didn't help. It just hurt. That was a lesson Anon learned long ago. Even if Diamond so clearly wanted to share this with all her friends, which, bizarrely, included her. It couldn't be helped.

So no, it didn't make Anon sad.

Not at all.

”Eh, I get it when I get it,” she said with a sudden tightness in her chest. ”But congrats,” Anon added sincerely.

Diamond grinned.

”Thanks,” Diamond answered, earning a nasty look from her mother.

”How dreadful that even after all this time, you still have to catch up on your pony heritage,” Spoiled Rich said, her lips curling up into a mockery of a smile. Far too sharp and not at all happy. ”But don't worry. I'm sure after the adoption is completed, and done properly, we will fix that.”

Anon paused, brows raising as she turned to Bon Bon, sitting at her side.

”...Adoption?”

No. Please be wrong. Please be wrong.

”Of course!” Spoiled Rich exclaimed. ”After learning of your… situation, and hearing how you helped my precious Diamond, I couldn't help but try and give you a real home.”

Anon's brain stalled.

Her throat went dry, eyes started stinging.

”You two are almost like sisters already,” she’d said.

She was blind. The truth had been staring her right in the face, but she’d chosen to ignore it, because she didn't want to think about it.

Celestia had even explained it to her. Not everyone could adopt. Equestria was both prosperous and peaceful, and orphans most commonly a product of accidents like housefires. And even so, most orphans were taken in by extended family or friends of the deceased. Foal abuse was even rarer, to the extent of being almost unheard of.

Anon hadn't made the connection at first. But it was obvious, want it? There were few foals eligible for adoption, but many ponies who wanted to adopt. And the rule of supply and demand being what it was, inevitably, adopting became a thing of prestige. Orphans: A scarce, valuable resource.

Spoiled Rich wanted to adopt her. Not because of some goodness in her heart, or a desire to give back some of the fortune she was granted. She wanted her as a trophy. Something to parade around, to show she could.

What was Anon supposed to do? This was… evil. Simple as that. She knew evil well enough to recognize it, she bore enough scars - both hidden deep and plain for everyone to see - to prove it many times over. But this wasn't anything like the giant, despicable acts of monsters who lovedseeing others hurt that she was used to. This wasn't something she could run from or punch or blow up.

In reality, Anon wasn't in any danger anyway. One call to Celestia and Spoiled’s chances of ever adopting her would be dashed, diced, and tossed in a fire, and the resulting ash summarily atomized, too.

So why did it make her feel so sick?

”Will Filthy Rich join us today?” Bon Bon asked tiredly. The mare apparently sensed Anon’s discomfort and pushed her chair slightly closer, just enough that her presence helped the filly calm down.

”I'm afraid my husband has an important business meeting today,” Spoiled said with a haughty smirk—and Anon then realized that her husband probably had no idea about her true motivation. She gave Bon Bon and Lyra another venomous look. ”Money doesn’t grow on trees, and he would never settle for less than the bestfor our daughter.”

Bon Bon continued quietly seething in her seat, staring daggers at the mare. Anon found that more than a little strange - between her and Lyra, she always seemed like the more composed of the pair.

Speaking of Lyra, the minty unicorn either didn't notice the jab at her, or she let it slide. Her demeanor was still outwardly pleasant, despite the slight edge in her movement as she levitated her tea and scones.

Anon also noted, in the back of her perpetually alert mind, that she seemed to keep the butter knife close at hoof.

”Money isn't exactly everything,” Lyra said easily, her tone unaffected even by the alleged tea she was sipping.

I had to put ten sugar cubes in to make it drinkable. Does she just not taste it?

”Of course you would believe that,” Spoiled Rich shot back. She turned her attention to Bon Bon. ”Sometimes, I wonder. How hard it must be for you. To be in a relationship so… unstable. With one partner bringing so much more money than the other,” she trailed off.

Bon Bon paused, confusion clear in her eyes. Lyra shrugged.

”Oh. Well, it isn't particularly unstable. Bon Bon always supported me,” she gave a small pause and smile at her partner, mischief sparking in her eyes. ”If it ever bothered Bonnie that I make slightly more money than her, I'm sure we would talk about it.”

Bon Bon eyes went wide, realization hitting her.

Anon raised a brow. She knew Bon Bon owned her own business, but thinking about it, she didn't really know what Lyra's job was. Anon knew she was a musician of some description. She saw her play at home often enough.

From an outside perspective, it probably looked like Lyra was a freeloader. And with her back problems, well, she sometimes couldn't even climb a flight of stairs. Anon couldn't imagine Lyra doing anything physically demanding.

What Lyra did most days was stay at home.

Stay at home and write music, that is.

”You make slightly more money than me?” Bon Bon said. ”Lyly, just the royalties from Songbird Serenade were more than what the candy shop makes in a year.”

Lyra blushed at this, while Spoiled Rich almost frothed with impotent rage - she was gritting her teeth so much, Anon was half expecting them to pop like popcorn.

”You really think they will let you adopt?” Spoiled Rich snarled, the thin veneer of civility gone. ”How long has it been, a month? And has little Spring here called either of you ‘mom’ even once?”

Lyra looked away while Bon Bon started shaking in her chair, emotions bubbling close to the surface.

”It's not like Diamond Tiara calls you ‘mum’ either,” Anon mumbled, a half-eaten scone crumbling in her hoof.

Silence.

”What?” she asked, feeling the weight of the everypony in the room staring at her with a mixture of surprise, bewilderment and, in the case of Spoiled Rich, barely contained contempt.

”I said that out loud, didn't I?” Anon asked innocently.

Lyra laughed. Bon Bon stifled a snort.

Spoiled Rich, on the other hoof...

She was a fairly simple mare who often overestimated her own intelligence and importance. She had been born into a ‘good family’. Old nobility, who fell on hard times. So she seduced a young, up-and-coming business stallion to preserve some of her family relevance, and enjoyed an easy life where she didn't really have to work very hard.

She was a mare who was used to getting what she wanted. She was used to getting it fast. And she was used to getting it without much resistance or argument.

In short, Spoiled Rich was a mare with a short temper, a nasty personality, and absolutely no idea how to deal with ponies making fun of her.

So she did the only thing that ever worked for her in these situations.

She threw a tantrum.

“Is that how it is?” she turned to Bon Bon, snarling. “You really want to care for some gutter filth?”

Bon Bon stood up, hackles raised, one hoof going on for a hidden weapon, more from instinct and training than any real intent to hurt. Lyra’s horn began to glow.

Spoiled Rich spun around to face the unicorn, ignoring the threat. Her eyes were as cold as the grave.

”You’re nothing. A burden,” she hissed at the minty mare. Lyra shook, her eyes misty. She tried to blink away the tears without success.

Anon noticed. In that split second. The look on Lyra’s face. Sad, not in the moment. Memory flashing behind the eyes, so close she could almost see it herself.

In a sudden moment of clarity, Anon recognized that look. She knew it well.

It was the look of someone who got a loved one killed.

”Songs or not. You will never be anything but a failure.. Nothing but a cripple-”

KRACKOWWW!

Bon Bon blinked.

All eyes turned to the smashed coffee table, its glass shattered to a hundred pieces, showering the conference room.

The green filly slowly lifted her hoof off the wreckage, staring at the offending appendage like she was just seeing it for the first time.

There was blood on it.

”I’m sorry,” Anon said in a weak voice. ”There was a mosquito.”

She turned to Lyra. The mare was so stunned by the display she had stopped crying.

”Mom, I want to go home,” Anon more whispered than said.

Another silence followed.

Bon Bon was the first to recover. Getting up on shaking legs, she scooped up the unprotesting filly - away from the danger of shattered glass, and away from the unhinged mad-mare sitting shocked in her chair.

”Yes, Spring.” Bon Bon said. ”Let's go home.”

”This is not over,” Spoiled Rich managed to utter after a few more moments of bewildered, but blessed, quiet.

”You’re right.” Bon Bon affirmed, her voice low, steely, and dangerous. She paid no attention to the snob of a mare behind her, only to Lyra and the green filly on her back - as well to the pink filly cowering in a corner as they made their way out. She only stopped at the door for a brief moment. ”This is not over, Spoiled.”

I have a call to make.

Author's Note

Welp, there it goes.

Thanks again to PseudoBob Delightus and Discombobulated Soul for all their help forging something readable from my inane scribbles.

I always sympathize with the changelings in the canon. Though Chrysalis' original plan never made a lick of sense to me.

So I decided to do things a little differently.

Anon acting a little weird. She has a lot on her plate. Lots of (re)growing to do. And poor Bon Bon needs a break.

And Lyra.

Well-

Also, to the poor guy in the comments who was afraid for buggos…

I'm sorry.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Parental Advisory Needed

Anon laid in her bed, awake and very confused.

This was often the case - the confused part, not the bed part, the bed part was relatively new - and as such, Anon did not have much reason for worry.

Confusion was a natural state for a jumper. It came naturally with being thrown into a new, unknown world every other week.

And yet, Anon was still worried.

After the spectacular disaster that was afternoon tea with Spoiled Rich, the rest of the day had been a blur of sensations and flashes of memories.

She let Bon Bon carry her - which should have been mortifying, both because of how vulnerable it left her, and because it was embarrassing. She didn't have much dignity left, but she did have some!

But Anon hadn't cared at the moment. She just held close to the mare and cried. She wasn't really sure why she'd cried, but tears were shed. Maybe not hers - or at least not only hers?

Then there was ice cream. She remembered the ice cream well. It was dark chocolate - that perfect balance of bitter and sweet. They got it at the Sugarcube Corner. The pink devil herself served it to them, but strangely, she seemed… less conspicuous. Subtle, almost. Like she was taking care to not scare Anon.

Again, this did not make a lick of sense to Anon - but this was at least the usual kind of confusion. The Pink One was not something to be understood - to try was folly. The day Anon is able to predict what Pinkie Pie will do next is the day she has officially lost her marbles.

Oh, she also managed to call Lyra 'mom' again. Yes. Again. Bon Bon too, probably, though she couldn't be certain. Her focus had kinda gone out the window the second she got her ice cream.

In her defense, it was good ice cream. She was only human after all (supposedly, hopefully.)

This should have horrified Anon - the mom part, not the ice cream part - but strangely, she found it was comforting. Fitting, almost.

When morning came, she found herself tucked in her bed, feeling rested and energetic like she had never felt in… forever, maybe.

It was not a special morning. Roosters crowed. Newspapers got delivered. Ponies woke up and went to work. A calm, normal morning in a calm, normal town. (If one ignored a herd of cattle stampeding through town. Which they did. Because this was Ponyville. Normal always comes with an asterisk in Ponyville)

And Anon felt safe. She felt good.

That confused and worried her.

What's wrong with me? Why am I feeling like this?

It fit. She didn't know what made her feel this way, or why, but calling Lyra or Bon Bon 'mom' fit. It feltright.

It wasn't supposed to feel right! It wasn't supposed to make her happy! Because she wasn't even supposed to be here!

It was hope. The jumper was far too aware of the need for hope. It was just another resource - one more thing to throw onto the fire of life to propel one forward. No different in its necessity from food or water or any other physical need. A soul demanded hope like lungs demanded air.

Hope was just another kind of fuel. But as it is with fuel, it burns.

And this new hope burned far too bright for the jumper.

She was used to wanting. To running on fumes. Having just enough to continue and not a drop more.

A family. A home. It was far too much. It burned. It hurt.

She feared.

And to think this whole mess started because she fought a pack of wooden wolves and got impaled on a tree. She should have just hid in the forest for a few weeks, but no, she had to get involved.

Anon groaned and got up. She let her body move automatically while her thoughts ran wild. She had to find a way out of this. Make a plan. This couldn't continue. She couldn't be so cruel to Lyra and Bon Bon. Not after all those things they did for her.

And calling them her parents - it was cruel, wasn't it? As if she belonged here. Her existence here was only temporary until she figured out how to get jumping again. And she would. She had to. There simply wasn't any other option.

Calling Lyra or Bon Bon her mom was cruel. She was giving them something they sought for, something they wanted so deeply, only for her to take it away on a whim.

Anon had long since accepted that she could be every bit as cruel as those who'd hurt her, that she was capable of returning just as much pain and suffering as was inflicted on her, if not more.

Return. That was her line in the sand. It was cruelty repaid in kind. Eye for an eye. It wasn't good by any measure, and certainly didn't make for the greatest moral compass. But it was good enough to keep her from doing anything too out of line. Anything that would make her too disgusted with herself. She wanted to get home, yes. But she also had to live with herself after that. What would be the point otherwise?

Had she really forgotten what it was all for? When had she become so selfish? Was one temporary respite all it took to cut the last few strands of her dwindling humanity?

Is it even temporary?

Anon groaned.

She didn't know.

Could she really just… stay? Call it quits, make up her mind and let go?

She shook her head. No. She was a jumper. There was no letting go for her.

Right?

What was she, if she wasn't a jumper? Anonymous fit her. If not this, she was nothing. Nothing.

Three years. Three years of fighting for her life. Of losing her sense of self. Body changed, memory lost, name taken. Besides her original goal of going home, everything that made her the person she used to be was gone. Letting go of that goal meant death in the only way that still mattered.

Anon was a jumper. She had survived despite everything. Here and now, she refused to let herself die so easily.She refused to die. Not dying easily was her whole shtick.

The filly barely paid any attention to the world around her, except for the smell of vanilla, which she followed downstairs to the kitchen. (It smelled like home.)

Her head didn't feel right. That was the cost of using magical powers instead of good old-fashioned chemical reactions. Everything had a price, magic included. (But hey, she had managed to melt the Dodgeball of Doom™ with only her mind, that had to count for something.)

"Oh! Good morning Spring!"

Before Anon knew it, she was standing by the dinner table, with two mares watching her curiously.

"G'morning mom."

Anon blinked.

Silence reigned.

"I'm sorry," Anon said, after a few more beats of dreadful silence. "I shouldn't call you that."

"Why not?" Lyra asked with a smile, her voice so gentle and so painfully hopeful. "I quite like it. We both do."

Anon laughed. Or choked, more like. A struggling thing came crawling from her throat, desperate and pathetic.

"I shouldn't call you that. You don't deserve it," Anon said without thinking. The green filly immediately cringed when she saw the hurt look on Lyra's face. "That came out wrong. I mean…"

"We deserve better than you, you mean," Bon Bon finished the thought, her voice somewhat distant.

Anon nodded. Good. At least Bon Bon understood. That was…for the best. Really. She probably saw it too. That this wasn't meant to last. Good things never did. For her, at least.

"You're wrong though," Bon Bon added, matter-of-factly. Anon stared dumbly at the mare.

She gave Anon a wry smile. "We may not understand what you've been through," the agent said somberly. "Not completely. But we're not blind, Spring. We see you're hurting. But you deserve to be happy."

"Spring," Lyra began. "We‐"

"Do you really want me?" Anon interrupted. "For me to stay?"

"Yes," Bon Bon said without hesitation. To her own surprise, the agent realized she meant it. "If you want to stay with us. Yes. We'd be more than happy."

"You would not be," Anon answered without missing a beat. "Not for long anyway."

You always had a knack for hurting those close to you.

"Spring, have you…" Lyra hesitated as the words stuck on her tongue. Sticky and bitter. "Have you ever… hurt somepony?"

"Worse," Anon answered. "And I don't regret it."

She wished she did regret it, though, sometimes. She honestly did. Remorseless killing was supposed to make somebody evil. It was the mark of a truly despicable person. But despite her best attempts at conjuring the proper emotions, she had never managed to feel regret over it. Anger. Yes. Grief. Also, yes. Grief, for her friend. Grief for the part of her that had to die for the rest of her to live. But no grief for those she killed. And no regret.

Regret might keep her from doing it again, if she had to.

Anon had waited for the moment when she would have an epiphany - or some profound realization - just something to break that hidden dam of emotions and let everything she was supposed to feel from the beginning rush over her all at once.

Years later, she was still waiting.

"Why not?" Lyra asked, her face marred with sadness.

She felt sad for her. Anon could not decide how she felt about that.

Anon was not used to empathy.

"They took my friend. Hurt him," Anon explained, trying to prevent her emotions from leaking into her voice, without success. "I wanted to hurt them back. So I did."

Lyra tilted her head.

"Took?" she said testily.

Anon shook her head.

"It doesn't matter now. He's dead."

Anon paused, glancing at Bon Bon. She could see the look in her eyes.

Bon Bon was hoping there was something to do about it. A rescue mission, or something equally stupid. It did not surprise Anon. Bon Bon was the kind of mare to face an alicorn for her. Anon couldn't decide if that determination came from a place of naivety or bravery (or both), but she could plainly see that if there was a chance, Bon Bon would take it. No matter how dangerous or impossible that chance was.

But there was none.

Flash of steel. Flash of crimson. Body gone limp. Soul set free.

You’re free.

I'm sorry, Fea.

There was no chance of rescuing her friend. After all, she'd killed him herself.

"And before you ask.I'm certain," Anon hissed through gritted teeth.

Lyra looked at Anon, then did a double take, eyes growing wide.

"You were never captured by Nightmare Moon, were you?" Lyra said. "You followed her on purpose to fight her."

Anon tilted her head, surprised that Lyra made the connection.

She thought about lying, but dismissed the idea. The only reason to lie would be to protect her cover, but denying the accusation would only encourage Lyra to look into it herself, and depending on what she found she might jump to some unpredictable conclusion. Too many unknowns there. By drip feeding Lyra some of the truth, she could divert her attention somewhere else.

Yup. That was definitely the only reason for talking about… that stuff. She was just protecting her cover.

Nothing else. Nothing more.

The green filly diverted her eyes from the two mares, her hoofs rubbing together nervously.

"I've fought bad peo- ponies who hurt others before," Anon finally admitted. "Thought I could do it again."

And she did promise Daybreaker that she'd at least try to stop Nightmare Moon if she got the chance. Well, technically, Daybreaker wanted her to talk Nightmare out of her plan to create an eternal night. The ‘try to trap her into an ancient magical artifact so others can blast her with a set of other, equally ancient magical artifacts’ was something they brainstormed together. (Though sticking an explosive into Nightmares chest cavity so she stays still was entirely on Anon)

Her hoof touched the yellow crystal hanging on her neck. The only thing that remained of Daybreaker. Another friend lost.

Lyra and Bon Bon exchanged another meaningful look.

"Remember your bed?" Lyra asked suddenly. "It's lumpy, but perfect for you?" Anon only raised a brow at the non sequitur.

"You. Us. It's like that," she explained. "I know we aren't perfect. And if you don't want us, that's okay, too. But if you decide to go, can you remember something for me?"

Lyra smiled. It was a painful smile, coming from a lesson hard-earned.

"Wanting to be loved is not selfish, Spring."

Anon stood there mutely, staring at the minty mare. Seconds passed.

She finally replied, "...did you just call me lumpy?"

"Yes," Lyra said with the utmost seriousness.

And despite herself, Anon laughed. It was a giggle at first - at the absurdity of the situation, which was really saying something these days - but it bubbled up and grew into full on, real, heartfelt laughter.

"You still have to go to the lecture today, though," Bon Bon interrupted. "They kinda made it mandatory after what happened at school."

"Lecture?" Anon asked.

"Mhm," Bon Bon hummed affirmatively. "Magic kindergarten, basically. Held by Twilight bucking Sparkle."

"Bonnie!" Lyra gasped. "Language!"

"Yeah, what the fuck, mom?"

"Spring!"

Anon laughed again. It felt almost like a family. A home.

It might not have been perfect. But it just might be theirs.

The day looked so promising at the start.

Steel Wind, through bewildering acts of incompetence at a scale that only a large bureaucracy is capable of, was now Sergeant Steel Wind, commanding officer of the newly formed Ponyville garrison.

While this was strange for many reasons, the main reason was that Ponyville was already supposed to have a garrison - being close to a monster filled forest and all - a mistake which had eluded the bureaucrats for years.

Why?

They misspelled the town's name on official paperwork.

To this day, the small village of Pony Town (Celestia felt extremely uncreative that day) with its whopping population of five had a fully manned garrison of three dozen--very confused--guard ponies.

Despite this, Steel Wind was able to keep his new subordinates mostly out of trouble. They had not yet subtracted from or added to the population, and the property damage so far was minimal; he was assured.

Until now, that is.

"Sergeant?"

Steel Wind did not react at first. The weathered gray pegasus stood still as a statue, staring at Specialist Iron Studs' helmet.

Or more accurately, at the sad, golden pancake that used to be Specialist Iron Studs' helmet.

"Sir?" repeated the shaking specialist, fear of the gods (but mainly his NCO) creeping into his voice.

"I should be mad," Steel Wind said, throwing the deformed helmet back to the specialist. "I would be mad," he added after a few seconds, if this wasn't so damn impressive."

Steel straightened up and looked at the shaking soldier. Without the helmet's enchantment to hide his appearance, Studs was a mud-brown unicorn with a short, auburn mane. 'Studs' - what a name. Though it could have been worse.

He had once known a private named Oiled Parts, back in basic.

"How did you even manage it?" Steel Wind asked. He pointed an accusatory hoof at the almost perfectly flat golden disc. "You know these are enchanted, right? Supposedly by Her Highness? I saw one deflect a chimera stinger. How did you do… that to it?"

The specialist gulped.

"Well, er, it started when I took a nap by the carriage..."

Sleeping on watch wasn't exactly protocol, but Steel had spent enough hours on guard duty to sympathize. They couldn't very well leave those damned carriages alone, considering they made them from gold, A.K.A. money, but the royal guards always patrolled in pairs, at least.

Taking a quick nap by the carriage was fairly harmless - as long as your squadmates stayed on watch (be it for enemies or passing officers). Really it was better than harmless - it kept the grunts from doing anything worse (read: stupider).

Half the reason he assigned that duty in the first place was to keep them out of trouble. Some days, that seemed like the purpose of most duties.

Still, it didn't explain the pancaketified helmet on their hooves.

"So? Everypony's done that at least once." Steel Wind said mildly. "Celestia knows those things aren't good for anything else."

Steel Wind hated those stupid carriages. The gold was supposed to hold enchantments better, but all really it meant was that they were heavy and expensive. Thus, getting them maintained was a heap and a half of paperwork - if they didn't have to tow them back to Canterlot outright - and getting replacement parts in the field was even worse somehow. Like that one time he messed up an NSN and ended up with an inflatable instead of a box of those damned golden screws. All the while they were stationed in the Appaloosa desert!

Some soldiers woke up screaming, haunted by the battles they fought. Steel Wind woke up screaming, haunted by improperly filled requisition forms.

"Sarge, you there?" the specialist asked fearfully.

Steel Wind shook his head, driving back the darkness once more.

"Yeah, just… thinking. So you took a nap on the flying sadness?"

The specialist rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Ehm, under it, technically," he said weakly. At Steel WInd's confused look he clarified, "I just wanted some shade."

The sergeant nodded. That happened all the time, even though it was a little dangerous. The risk was that if the driver missed him and had to move quickly, he could be run over. But then again, it wasn't anything too unusual as far as guard stupidity went- wait.

"I think I see where this is going." Steel Wind said with carefully honed and trained exasperation. "Continue, please."

"I didn't want to get run over, so I wedged my helmet under the wheels..." Iron Studs explained - for a given value of the word ‘explained’. "But then there was the stampede and we had to move everything and, well… I forgot it was there?"

Steel Wind, with willpower unimaginable, refrained from strangling the specialist. Instead, he calmly replied, "Yup, that would do it."

"Am I in trouble?" Studs asked, having no idea how close he came to a slow and painful death by officer.

"Are you?" Steel Wind snapped. "I mean, you only fell asleep on watch and completely destroyed a very expensive piece of equipment that gets all of us into trouble if it gets damaged. So, what do you think?"

The specialist took a step back, his face turning pale - an incredible feat considering he had brown fur.

"... Maybe it can buff out?" he offered.

Steel Wind's eye twitched.

"No… Just no."

Then he took a deep breath.

"Okay, here is what we're going to do," Steel Wind began. "You're going to fly to Canterlot. You go to the main barracks - you know where the training yard is, right? Good. You go to the porta potty there - yes, you heard me right. There, you will wait - inconspicuously! - till some poor boot leaves his helmet outside. It'll be sunny today, and those portables get hot. So there should be at least one helmet laying around somewhere. Once you find one, you will swap their helmet for your helmet," Steel Wind paused." Also, change the aventails. Those have our unit insignia on them. Any questions?"

Ever so slowly, the specialist lifted his hoof.

"... What does 'inconspicuously' mean?"

"Why did I reenlist?"

"Hey."

Steel Wind spun around. At first, he thought his sanity had finally escaped him and he'd begun hearing voices. That was until it occurred to him to look down.

Staring up at him was a green filly with a messy black mane, holding up a letter.

"Oh, it's you," Steel Wind said, disappointed - mostly because his hope of getting out of the guard on insanity plea was crushed. (As if insanity barred ponies from holding positions of power in the military.)

"Sarge, who is this?" Iron Stud asked.

“Did you pay no attention to my briefing?” Steel Wind said. It’d been a good brief. It’d taken him all night to prepare. He’d even made a presentation (he’d painted signs and drew big, colorful pictures, ever so distrustful of the average soldier's ability to read.) It showed the anomaly, their mission of keeping the elements alive and keeping watch on the everfree- it’d been a good brief. He was almost proud of it.

"We had a briefing?" Iron asked with genuine surprise.

And with that, Specialist Iron Studs learned what kind of noise grinding teeth into sand makes.

"I need help," Anon finally announced, distracting Steel from the downward spiral that was his life.

"Yeah. You and everypony in this psycho town," Steel sighed. "What ya need? I'm kinda in the middle of something here."

As he spoke, he pointed at the helmet which could now only be used as a very fancy dinner plate.

Anon took the helmet from him without missing a beat. She looked around, making sure nopony else was watching, and then-

It was easy, really. The helmet was still a helmet, even in its flattened state. It just needed a little reminder. She might not have been able to jump, but all her other powers still worked - maybe even better than before. Probably because she wasn't injured, sick, starving, or on the run.

"Here," Anon said casually, levitating the helmet back to its owner. "It's fixed. Now do you have time?"

Steel stared at the completely undamaged helmet. It even shined.

There was no spell, no magic. The green filly's horn hadn't even lit up until she levitated the helmet back to him! It didn't make a lick of sense. It went against all laws of logic and reality Steel Wind knew.

The mind of any normal pony would be assaulted by questions of "how?", "isn't that impossible?", and "is it dangerous to stand so close to the reality-bending entity?"

But not Steel Wind.

Steel Wind simply shrugged.

"Huh, that works," he said nonchalantly. "So now that I don't need to run off to Canterlot, what do you need?"

At this, Anon paused, giving him a sheepish smile.

"I need you to run off to Canterlot and deliver a message to Princess Celestia."

Steel Wind gave the filly a look that in no way looked threatening, crazed or murderous.

"Of course," he said tightly. "Of bucking course."

He sighed.

"Why a letter?" Steel Wind asked numbly. "I thought you were given a communication array. You know, for sending messages?"

Beside Steel Wind, Iron Studs tilted his head.

"Whydon't we have a communication array?" he asked. Steel Wind shot him a murderous look.

"The paperwork got messed up and now it's on its way to Baltimare. Because the universe hates me."

"Hmm," Anon hummed in the tone of a pony absolutely disinterested in the conversation but still obliged to hear them out. "Well mine is broken. So, will you help?"

Steel Wind paused, his left brow raising into unprecedented highs.

"What do you mean broken?" he said.

"What do you think broken means?" Anon stomped her hoof. "It doesn't work! I keep trying to contact Celestia, but it keeps fizzling out."

Iron Studs, mostly ignoring the conversation between his sergeant and what had to be a secret agent with dwarfism, finally heard something which piqued his interest.

"Maybe she just had a long call?" He piped up. Both Steel and Anon turned sharply, watching him with the same weariness with which one watches a ticking bomb. "The resonance runes are only one way," Iron continued. "If somepony contacted her before you, the Rtsi rune would fail and the magic charge would harmlessly dissipate. Or 'fizzle out', as you put it."

He smiled at the bewildered look Steel Wind gave him.

"I'm a unicorn in the Royal Guard," he explained. "And signal corps was my second option if I didn't make the gold. I do have some training."

"Could have fooled me," Steel Wind mumbled.

"So, can you send it?" Anon asked.

Steel Wind shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose. What's the message?"

She handed him a note.

It was a strip of paper ripped from a journal, with a single sentence written on it.

I have a job for Sunny Skies.

Steel Wind scrunched his muzzle in confusion, while Iron studs scratched the back of his head.

"Is that code?" Iron Studs asked, taking the note and examining it close-up in some vain hope it would become more legible. He did not recognize the script at all. Maybe Griffonian?

"Nah." Anon shrugged. "My handwriting just sucks."

Steel Wind paused.

"You’re a unicorn," he deadpanned. “You don't have hands.”

Anon smiled.

"My point exactly," she said cheekily.

And just like that, Iron Studs watched the green filly - who he seriously hoped was a magically shrunk secret agent - trot off towards some beige earth pony mare walking into a tree (As in, into a house that was also a tree - what even was this town?)

There was a moment of silence as the two guards stood in the road, unsure of exactly what had just transpired.

"Sarge, am I still in trouble?" Iron Studs asked, breaking the awkward silence.

Steel Wind blinked, then shook his head.

"Nah. Just… go and let me forget you exist until at least this afternoon."

Bon Bon quirked her brow at Anon. The filly came walking back, her expression unreadable.

"Who was that?" she asked.

The filly gave a lazy shrug, walking past her to the doors of the Golden Oaks library.

"Just one of the guards I met in Canterlot," Anon answered casually. "He was nice to me, so I thought I'd say hello."

Bon Bon nodded, even though she couldn't help but wonder what Anon's real intentions were. She had been close enough to see the note exchange hooves, but not enough to eavesdrop.

Maybe she didn't need to know. That wasn't an opinion an agent was supposed to have, but for some reason, Bon Bon felt like pressing for information wouldn't help.

The Golden Oaks library.

The inside didn't look that unusual if one ignored the fact that it was a library built into a living tree, and also ignored the fire-breathing lizard munching on gemstones in the corner.

"Hey, Spike," Anon greeted the dragon. The filly took a glance around the library. It hadn't changed much since the last time she'd been there - though she hoped she wouldn't have to fight shadow monsters conjured by a mad goddess of the night, again. The only new things she noticed were some pillows strewn around a blackboard - all vacant. "We're not late, are we?"

"For magic kindergarten?" Spike asked. "You're early. Like, four hours early."

At this, Anon turned towards Bon Bon, giving her a confused look.

"That's on purpose," Bon Bon explained. "Twilight agreed to tutor you."

Anon tilted her head.

"I thought she already did," Anon said. "Isn't that what these magic lessons are about?"

Bon Bon shook her head.

"No, I meant your reading problem."

The green filly grimaced.

"Ah. That," she said slowly, putting extra emphasis on the last word, spitting it out like she had swallowed a slug and regretted it dearly.

Being practically illiterate was a bit of an issue, to put it mildly. This crazy horse-world she'd ended up in had enough similarities to Earth that it gave her a hope of returning home. But apparently, while pony speech was just English, pony writing was completely different. Because the universe hated her.

"Yes, that," Bon Bon affirmed.

Before the awkward moment could continue, a certain purple equine came down the stairs.

"Hello, I'm Twilight Sparkle!" the Ponyville librarian (among other things) greeted them with way too much cheer in her voice, and a thin, painful-looking smile. "I'll be teaching you today!"

Anon gulped, her body suddenly overwhelmed with a premonition of doom and an immediate urge to flee all the way to Yakyakistan.

"Yeah, uh, I'm Spring," Anon introduced herself weakly, her own name tasting strange on her tongue. "Spring Break."

Hearing the introduction, the perplexing purple pony paused. Her eyes glittered with curiosity - and something akin to hunger.

That was not a good thing, Anon decided then.

"Are you sure?" she asked, watching the green filly the same way a scientist might examine an insect, preserved and pinned to a corkboard.

Anon opened her mouth, then clamped it shut again, unsure how to even begin to respond to that question. Or whether there was a correct answer.

"Fairly?" she finally managed, earning another crazed look from the unicorn.

"Want me to stay here?" Bon Bon asked, apparently sensing her discomfort. Which probably wasn't exactly a hard feat, considering the discomfort was great enough for Anon to consider immediate emigration/evacuation.

"Nah, It's fine," she said, hoping to be correct.

She was fairly certain that Celestia's student would do anything too crazy. Well, she had heard some foalhood stories about her from Daybreaker, but Twilight had probably outgrown her neurotic behavior by now, right?

Right?

Bon Bon, meanwhile, simply stood there, waiting.

"So. Goodbye," she said anxiously. Which took Anon by surprise. Bon Bon was supposed to be the unflappable one. Why would she be anxious? She was safe here, relatively speaking. And-

Ah, she's expecting something. But what?

Oh.

Anon ran up to hug her.

"Goodbye," she muttered with a snoutful of beige fur. Then she impulsively added, "Love you," with considerably less volume.

It was a quick hug. It lasted barely a second. But by the way Bon Bon turned pale, blanched and stopped breathing for a hot second, it must have seemed like a far bigger deal to the beige mare than it really was.

Because it definitely meant nothing, Anon told herself. Nothing at all.

When she let go, Anon tried to act as casual as possible. Bon Bon was too stunned to react at first, staring at the filly like she had just sprouted a second horn.

And then, finally, Bon Bon exited the building, looking somewhat… sad?

No, not sad, Anon realized. Guilty.

Twilight gave Spring a strange look, tilting her head, while Spike whistled to himself.

"So, they are going through the adoption thing?" he asked suddenly, tearing Anon from her contemplations.

"Spike!" Twilight chided. "You can't just ask that!"

"Why not?" Spike asked, one scaled brow arching up.

"It's… awkward?" Twilight said, looking to Anon as if asking for help.

"Are you asking?" Spike said.

"No?"

Spike face palmed

"Well, you keep being weird about pony names, that's awkward too!"

"That's different!" Twilight shot back.

"How?"

"It's research!"

"You know about it?" Anon asked, before clarifying. "The adoption. I have no idea about the name thing." She paused. "And I don't think I want to know, honestly."

"A little." Spike said. "I'm also adopted, you know."

Anon stared at the fire-breathing lizard standing next to the purple unicorn pony.

"Really?" Anon deadpanned. "I would never have guessed."

Then she stalled, unsure how to continue - which was becoming the new norm here.

"Do you remember anything about how it works?" Anon finally asked. "I'm… kinda in the dark."

It was embarrassing, asking that to what was practically a stranger. But she needed to know. And she wanted to know, for once.

Curiosity was a strange thing for Anon. She used to be so full of it, at the start. That got quickly beaten out of her. Curiosity only got you hurt - or worse.

And it was useless anyway. She could still remember the first time she'd encountered magic. She had spent every waking moment trying to learn, to understand it. And she did. A little at least.

And all of that effort became utterly worthless the second she jumped to the next place. Yes, some of it had helped her in a pinch - and the process of learning was an exercise in mental discipline, if nothing else. But her efforts would have been better spent trying not to starve.

But here, her curiosity was rearing its ugly face again. It didn't make sense. Why should she care? It wasn't like knowing would change anything. What would she do? Prepare? Build weapons and gather supplies for Celestia singing over some worthless papers?

So why couldn't she stop caring?

"I remember a few things," Spike answered. "Does Sunny still work there?"

Anon nodded, a little surprised. It made sense that Celestia was interested in Spike's case, too. Anon was just surprised she'd bothered with the disguise.

Or maybe she just botched hiding it? Man, Celestia is bad at disguises.

"Trust her," Spike said earnestly. "She's good at her job."

"Why not just ask Bon Bon?" Twilight asked. “I'm sure she knows all about it, especially since she was adopted, too.”

Anon fell silent at that. She did not have an answer.

Noticing the awkward silence, Twilight decided to bring things back on track.

"So! Back to the reason for your visit!" With a flourish of her horn, the blackboard flipped, revealing writing on the other side. There were several lines of something that could be generously described as letters. "Equestrian scripts!"

"Scripts, plural?" Anon asked. Looking closer at the board, she could see there was a difference between the subsequent lines of text. From a more blocky, angular design, to one far more flowing, almost cursive-like, to something which appeared like the fetal alcohol syndrome suffering cousin of hieroglyphs.

"Exactly!" Twilight said excitedly. "You're going to need to learn all three of them. One for each tribe," she paused. "Well, there's the fourth script if we count the thestral moon writ..."

"Twilight," Spike said softly.

"But we won't because we don't have the time!"

Anon gave Spike a thankful look.

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet," Spike replied. "Wait till she gets into runes."

Anon sighed. It was going to be a long day.

Author's Note

Hello there again,

this was mostly a calm, housekeeping chapter. Lots of little reminders of previous plot points with only some development.

Sidenote, I’m sorry for the rant in the middle there. That was mostly done for my own reasons, and despite my editors' pleas.

It's therapeutic, really. I like screaming into the void.
.
The ‘Ponies write in several different scripts’ is mostly my head-canon for why any text appearing in the show tends to be very inconsistent with how it looks between episodes. And I also thought it was neat so now it's there.

Again, thanks to PseudoBob Delightus for editing and Discombobulated Soul for proofreading my mess.

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Woes Of Written Words

"You know," Spike said casually, "you have nopony to blame but yourself for this."

Thud.

Anon was many things. Resourceful, always. Clever when she tried. Patient when she could afford it. Vicious when she couldn't.

Thud.

Good at dealing with Twilight Sparkle? That she was not.

Thud.

"You should probably stop doing that," Spike commented without even turning to face Anon. The drake sounded thoroughly bored with the situation. "You're ruining the wall."

Anon ceased banging her head against the wall, bits of wood and bark falling off her forehead. She glanced at Twilight, who was still writing on the blackboard.

"-Merry Web defines these changes to Equish spelling in her dictionary. By 864, she-

Thud.

Spike sighed.

"I'm going to go get a broom."

Anon didn't pay attention to him. She was too busy trying to turn her higher brain functions permanently off.

"-the standard now established by Oxbridge University-" Thud. "-has made sure to correct for the usual drift languages undergo. -" Thud. "-Their faculty has-"

"I JUST ASKED WHY!!!"

Twilight jumped at the outburst, causing her chalk to break in half.

Anon blanched. For a split second, she expected Twilight to start shouting back. She had just screamed at an adult, and technically, a teacher. If she only got yelled at, she would count herself lucky.

Instead, something much, much worse happened.

Twilight lowered her ears and shrunk away.

It wasn't exactly the same shrinking away that Anon sometimes did - hers was a more violent reaction. It sometimes took Anon a second or two to remind herself that there was nothing to dodge or jump away from, that was all.

Twilight looked more… guilty in the moment. She was exactly the sort of pony to go on long tirades about niche topics. And she was probably all too used to ponies rudely dismissing or making fun of her for it.

And now Anon felt like a jerk.

"Sorry," Anon muttered. "I get that you want me to learn, but I just want the basics. Not the whole history of Equestrian language developments. Can't you, I dunno, dumb it down a little?"

Anon felt bad as she said it. So far, Twilight had been a surprisingly good teacher - leading her to figure out the answers herself and helping her only when she struggled. At least, that was until Anon asked that stupid question and sent Twilight into a full on lecture mode.

"Dumb it down?" Twilight gasped, clearly offended by the notion. "B-but how will you understand if you don't know the history behind it!"

"I understand plenty!" Anon said urgently. "Gods, I can never not understand again. I can read Equestrian fine now."

And Anon really could. Well, except for the strange pictographs, but Twilight didn't need to know that.

It was hard to describe Twilight Sparkle in a full on lecture mode, but it was like the polar opposite of a lobotomy. However Twilight did it, Anon remembered. The knowledge simply got stuck in her head and refused to leave.

Anon blamed her partial amnesia. With so much spare room, it just got filled easily. Like pouring water into an empty bucket. (Though in this metaphor, the bucket was also rusty and full of bullet holes)

After surviving Twilight's exercises, Anon found she could now understand the strange combination of blocky symbols - each a different syllable - that made up most of the printed language she saw.

Then came the curved, flowy lines which made her eyes water. They reminded her of cursive, if only more complicated and elaborate. Those, Anon realized, she mainly saw in school whenever somepony scribbled something down fast.

And after completing Twilight's quiz on the matter, she even recognized some of the vaguely Egyptian looking symbols, each one a different word, if only the more obvious ones.

But none of it answered the one main question Anon had.

WHY?!

Anon gave a frustrated sigh. It could be worse, she told herself. It could be mangled horse latin.

"I don't need to know the whole history of Equish," Anon said. "Just… a part of it. I wanted to know why one language simultaneously uses three wildly different writing systems, that's all."

Twilight gave a deep sigh, looking pensive for a moment.

"That has a relatively simple answer," Twilight said looking conflicted. "The three tribes all used basically the same language, but had access to different resources, so their writing systems evolved differently."

Twilight's horn lit up and the board cleared. Levitating a new piece of chalk, she wrote the words 'Earth Pony - Merchant Republic'.

Nice. I can actually read that now.

"The earth ponies formed merchant republics and free cities," Twilight began. "They needed an easy and accessible way to record taxes and trade deals, and to spread political propaganda."

Anon was nodding along, until Twilight got to the last point and then her brow shot up so high it almost left her face.

Nevertheless, Twilight continued on.

"Because citizens had voting rights, and a high literacy rate - highest of the three tribes before unification and for a long time after - politically charged literature became a staple in the wealthier cities. It's actually the most common primary source we have for the pre-unification era."

Anon blinked at the chalkboard. The concept of colorful ponies having political debates and propaganda was jarring enough. But, if she understood correctly…

"Ponies had democracy?" Anon exclaimed.

Twilight shot Anon a curious look - a mix of apprehension and interest.

"Republicanism," she corrected. "And it's… complicated?"

Then her shoulders sagged.

"So, on paper, any land-owning patriarch or matriarch of an earth pony family could vote and hold positions of office." Heroically, Twilight managed not to sigh at the futile effort of making sense of pony nature. "In reality, only the wealthiest and most well-connected families kept themselves in power, forming alliances between themselves and the lesser families whenever one family gained too much influence."

Then Twilight perked up. "You should ask Diamond Tiara about it," she said. "She's a descendant of the Dairies on her mother's side. They used to be a very influential family back then."

"I guess that makes sense," Anon said, then paused for a moment. "Wait, how do you know I'm friends with Diamond? How-"

"So! Back to your question," Twilight said quickly. "This writing system had to be simple enough for use in trade, and accessible to a large chunk of the population. Today, Bark is still the most widely used writing system, though mostly because bark is easiest to print-"

"Bark," Anon said flatly. "The writing system is called bark."

Twilight gave her a sheepish shrug.

"Well, paper wasn't invented yet, and chiseling tax revenue reports into stone is just not very practical," she explained. "But some earth pony found that birch bark could be used as a sort of primitive scroll. With some earth pony magic, they managed to create the Bark-Scroll tree."

Twilight levitated a scroll from her desk. With a raised brow, Anon noticed she had a small pile of different things ready.

Did… did she prepare props? For this?

To Anon's middling interest, the scroll Twilight gave her did appear to be made from bark. Though the more interesting thing for Anon was the writing.

It didn't really sink in before, probably because she was watching it being written by Twilight using magic. But now that she had it in her own hooves, it was really easy to see why Bark looked the way it did:

Hooves.

If Anon decided to hold a pen and bracing it against her fetlock like the earth ponies in school, this was the natural shape the letters would take. Blocky and sharp lines of a reed or charcoal pen on bark.

"Now, the origins of the name are really not known for sure," Twilight said. "but it's speculated it came from the pegasi asking what the earth ponies used for writing and, they answered 'bark'. The name then stuck."

Twilight paused, possibly for dramatic effect. Possibly because she forgot where she'd put down her chalk.

"Speaking of pegasi, we have Cloud Writ."

With a flourish, Twilight added 'Pegasi - Military Dictatorship' to the board with the now found chalk.

"The pegasi built their civilization on martial might. Military service was mandatory. Foals were commonly taken from families as young as seven and then trained together. It's actually the precursor of the flight school system they use now, though it was far harsher."

Anon opened her mouth to reply with something, but found herself speechless. Imagining ponies having political debates was one thing. But a pony version of… Sparta? That was just ridiculous. Not to mention it didn't seem very sustainable.

Aside from the obvious problems a nation of soldiers might run into, there was the question of why even form a society this way. Was Equestria in the past really so dangerous that a warrior culture emerged?

"Cloudsdale itself was ruled by the Lord Commander," Twilight said, then grimaced. "A position most commonly gained by a… duel against the previous Lord Commander."

Anon nodded, though she suspected Twilight used the word 'duel' here as a euphemism for murder.

She didn't appreciate being babied as if she couldn't handle some violence in her history books, but it was hard to hold it against Twilight. Equestria's past seemed far darker than the almost utopic present would suggest. Explaining these things to a child wouldn't be very high on Anon's to-do list.

Enough ponies had stared at her for her to know that ponies were… weird about stuff like that. Fighting and the like. Anon was pretty sure that if monster attacks weren't such a problem, they wouldn't even bother with a standing army. War and violence wasn't something ponies found palatable - at least not anymore. It simply wasn't something they had to worry about.

I blame Celestia.

"All of that to say, the pegasi had a bit of an ego," Twilight interrupted Anon musings, continuing with her lecture. "They lived for glory. And they wanted this glory to last. Potentially forever. Much of what we have of their literature are epic poems and hymns singing praise of the Lord Commander."

Lifting something from her pile of props, Twilight presented her with another book.

Except it wasn't a book.

"Though they ran into a small issue after Cloudsdale was founded. A tiny one, really," Twilight said. "They had nothing to write on. Or with."

What Anon somehow held in her hooves was a piece of solid cloud. Which, amazingly, was only the second strangest thing about it.

Because this solid piece of cloud was covered in shimmering, rainbow-colored writing.

"Stone and clay are hard to transport into the sky," Twilight explained to the bewildered Anon, who was still marveling at the colorful arrangement in her hooves. "And everything else required the pegasi to work with plants - something they saw as, quite literally, beneath them."

Twilight levitated the cloud back to her.

"So, the pegasi used what they had," Twilight explained. "Which are condensed clouds for paper, pegasi feathers for quills, and liquid rainbow for ink."

Liquid… rainbow? How?

Anon shook her head. Magic. Better not to ask.

They probably manufacture rainbows in a factory or something equally ridiculous.

"Their writing method is why the Cloud Writ looks so elaborate," Twilight said, pointing at the many loops and elaborate twirls. "It not only serves as decoration, but also minimizes quill lifting, which means less risk of splashing too much rainbow and ruining the whole cloud."

She gently put the cloud next to her pile of props, picking up another one.

"Lastly, we have Equish Glyphs."

Anon tilted her head.

"Wait, not unicorn glyphs?" Anon asked.

Twilight shook her head.

"No," Twilight said. "We don't actually know who invented them, but we do know all tribes used them before they came to Equestria," she sighed wistfully. "Truth be told, we are not even really sure when they were invented. But the oldest stela we have with carved glyphs definitely wasn't made by unicorns - the chiseling was made by hooves and claws. I actually have a transcript of it here"

Twilight let Anon see the paper.

"What do you think it says?" she asked.

The glyphs were somewhat nonsensical still, at least to Anon. But there seemed a method to the madness.

She studied the glyphs. Most of them looked far too abstract for her, like what appeared to be a pony stick figure with butterfly wings glued to its back. But a simply-drawn sun with a circle next to it looked a bit more like her speed. And was that seriously a goblin with a sword?

Anon pondered these drawings for a few more minutes, seriously considering the meaning of what appeared at a first glance to be hieroglyphics, as imagined by kindergarteners.

Finally, she gave up.

"Butterfly ponies rescue the sun?" Anon guessed, without a hint of exasperated desperation.

"Close!" Twilight said. "Flutter ponies rescue the sun stone!"

Anon looked at the paper again, simply not seeing it.

"You see the issue with glyphs now," Twilight commented. "And the main reason they aren't used outside of scholarly circles, with a few exceptions. To put it simply, they are not an efficient carrier of information."

Anon let out a relieved breath. She sort of assumed Twilight would be angry at her for not getting the glyphs, but she wasn't. It would be kinda ridiculous to expect her to understand all of it immediately, of course, but the assumption remained.

"What exceptions?" Anon asked, mostly as a means of distracting herself from a sudden avalanche of heavy thoughts she didn't want to deal with.

"Names," Twilight answered immediately. "Lots of ponies use their cutie marks instead of their full name. With glyphs carrying their magic in them, signatures like those are almost impossible to fake.

Twilight drew her own star-shaped mark on the board.

"Although," she added, "some ponies still like to use glyphs in their writing. Like Rarity, for example." As Twilight spoke, she pulled a folded bill of sale out from the pile of props, showing it to Anon. "She adds them mostly as decoration."

And just as Twilight said, the horn writing on the bill was graceful looking Cloud Writ, decorated with a few pretty looking, gem-shaped glyphs in the corners and around the name of her boutique.

"Most ponies have some quirk in their writing," Twilight explained, pulling out another few pieces of papers and presenting them. "You know my friends? Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie?"

"A little," Anon allowed.

"Try to guess whose is whose."

Anon raised a brow and started the task.

The first one wasn't exactly hard. Only one of them would be writing weather reports.

"Dash," Anon said, pointing at the report.

Twilight nodded.

"Rainbow writes exclusively in Cloud Writ, with the exception of punctuation - she borrows that from Bark, which I suspect is purely to annoy me," Twilight remarked, putting the report aside. "What about Applejack?"

Anon looked over the pile, then pulled another bill of sale, this one for a bushel of apples. The writing on it was a bit crude, but practical. It was also written using only Bark.

"Applejack's hoof-writing could use some work," Twilight commented. "She tends to connect the Bark signs as if she was using Writ."

The last two became very easy, if only because Fluttershy's note about the behavior of mice - which was written in a nice mix of elegant Cloud, clever glyphs and… Bark - was the only of the two remaining papers that was legible.

But the old party invitation Pinkie supplied was certainly… interesting, in the same way that eldritch horrors were kinda scary. Even Twilight did not know there were forty-two different glyphs for 'birthday party'. And Anon suspected that the only reason there were not more was because Pinkie Pie ran out of space.

"Why use glyphs at all, though?" Anon asked suddenly. "They just seem… inefficient and hard to learn."

Twilight smiled.

"Glyphs may be terrible carriers of information, but they are perfect for magic."

Picking the chalk up again, Twilight wrote the words 'Unicorns - Monarchy' on the board

"The study of magic is now mostly considered a unicorn thing. There is a reason for that," she said, adding 'Sun Raising' next. "Unicorns built their whole society around powerful magicians - particularly those few who could survive the ritual to raise the sun. They and their families are the root of modern unicorn nobility."

Twilight gave a little snort.

"Ironically, despite being a monarchy, it was actually one of the more egalitarian societies of early Equestria. Magical power meant everything in old Unicornia. And while titles were passed to family members, the rules for who was considered family differed greatly from the nobles of today. In those days, the whole household was considered part of the line, from sponsored clients down to the servants. They simply could not afford to waste talent, no matter where it came from."

Anon hummed to herself. It made a certain amount of sense - if the unicorns had the duty of raising the sun, they had to get the magic for it somewhere and they could not afford to be picky. But it was also weird hearing that a monarchy, out of all things, was egalitarian.

Though, it also made sense why Celestia's staunchest supporters were the unicorns. If their society was all about sun raising and magic, they would either love her for embodying both, or hate her for making them redundant.

I wonder how Luna fits into all of that.

"For unicorns," Twilight continued, "their noble house was more about sharing duties and traditions than sharing blood. It was extremely common to adopt heirs. Most commonly the ruling head of a noble house would take a promising young apprentice from inside their household - blood related or not - and basically raise them to be their replacement."

Twilight paused.

"Which is also why there are unicorn families claiming relationships with Princess Celestia even today. Princess Platinum formally adopted Celestia as her heir to help secure Celestia's rule and unify early Equestria."

Again. Mostly made some sort of sense, and made her even more curious how Luna fit into the equation.

From the brief impression Anon had of Luna, she seemed the more martial of the two, so maybe she helped get the pegasi on their side? Twilight did mention duels as being a legitimate way to gain high standing in pegasi culture, so maybe she just stabbed the first pegasus to ask any questions about the unification?

And yet, while it was fascinating to learn how each pony tribe developed, Anon still didn't see how this explained the third script.

"What does any of this have to do with unicorns using glyphs?" Anon asked. "I mean, you said that glyphs can carry magic... How? It's just some… squiggly lines on paper. How can they be any more magical than a story written in rainbow or drawn onto the bark of a… magically grown tree?"

Twilight smiled again.

"Let's try something."

And with that, Twilight started drawing glyphs on the board.

Few of them Anon even recognized. 'Light', Anon remembered from before. 'Power' was easy enough, the glyph being lightning shaped was enough of a clue. The last one in the sequence was tricky. A sort of triangle with a spiral on it.

'Horn'.

And then it finally clicked.

That's a spell diagram.

"Try it," Twilight encouraged. "Pour magic magic into the glyph, then-"

Anon did.

The room got a little brighter as Anon's horn lit up.

Horn light spell.

Twilight smiled again.

"The characters in Bark and Writ are used to illustrate sound. Glyph, meanwhile, illustrates meanings and concepts. And those have power where magic is concerned."

"Would any written glyphs work?" Anon asked. “Could I just…make a shopping list, pour some magic into it, and watch magic happen?”

"No.” Twilight said, shaking her head. “For a spell, it has to have a very specific form and meaning. This particular spell is just neutral magic. Intent, will, and visualization of the written concept. Others also have esoteric components. Using those is a lot more involved."

"What components?" Anon asked.

"Oh! Spell categorization. I will explain later when the magic lesson starts in about-"

"Ehm, hello? Is anypony home?" The voice of Sweetie Belle came from the front entrance of the library, followed by the sound of a small gaggle of foals. "We're here for the magic lessons."

Twilight sighed.

"About now, apparently."

It took a surprising amount of time for everypony to get seated.

It should not take any amount of time, really. There were only six of them, Anon included. And yes, while that was more than usual for Ponyville's own magic kindergarten - a few parents that normally taught their foals at home decided to send them this time, no doubt because of Twilight's reputation as Princess Celestia's student. (Or they wanted a free babysitter. That was also an option.) It was still just six foals.

Getting six foals to sit down should not take that long.

But there was a reason for it.

That reason's name was Dinky Hooves, the adorable creator of the Dodgeball of Doom™ in the flesh. The other foals sat in a semicircle around Dinky, obviously trying to avoid her without making it obvious that they were doing it.

They were scared.

Anon gave a long-suffering sigh while she got up from where she was sitting during Twilight’s first lesson.

Damn me and my bleeding heart.

"Hey," Anon said towards Dinky, "This seat free?"

Dinky winced, clearly startled. For a few moments, she watched Anon as if she was some strange, alien lifeform. (Which was, in fact, true, so Anon tried not to take it personally.)

"Y-yeah," Dinky stammered out. "Wait, the lesson is free, right?" she asked in a sudden panic.

"I think so," Anon said, plumping herself down next to Dinky, fully aware of the apprehensive stares from the rest of the foals in the room. "As far as I know, anyway. "

Dinky turned away from Anon and looked at the floor, rubbing her hooves nervously.

"I'm sorry."

Anon gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Don't be," Anon said. "It's not like the surge was your fault."

"B-but I hurt you," Dinky managed to say. "I put you in the hospital."

"Eh," Anon said with a shrug, gesturing at her scars, her torn ear, and her scruffy appearance in general. "I get hurt all the time. It doesn't matter."

"But-"

"Okay," Anon interrupted her. "I accept your apology. I don't think it was necessary in the first place, but I accept it."

"Oh," Dinky replied with an astonishing level of verbosity. "You're strange."

Anon snorted. "True."

"Ahem."

The low murmur in the library died out as Twilight cleared her throat.

"Hello class! My name is Twilight Sparkle and I'm your teacher for today."

Then she giggled, and added, "I always wanted to say that."

Five foals simply stared at the mare, waiting.

The sixth promptly punched herself in the face in an attempt to face-palm with a hoof, momentarily forgetting that she, in fact, had hooves.

"In today's lesson, we'll go over the basic principles, and practice controlling your magic," Twilight said in a more serious tone. "If anypony has any questions, feel free to ask them- yes?"

"What's that smell?" Snips asked, putting his hoof down.

"Spike is making nachos," Twilight answered. "Anything else? No? Then let's begin!"

Twilight's horn lit up, picking up a box of chalk and flying it around the library.

"Can anypony describe what I'm doing?" Twilight called to the class, continuing to levitate the box of chalk.

"Using magic?" Snails suggested weakly.

"Yes!" Twilight exclaimed happily. "Anypony know what this magic is called?"

"Telekinesis?" Sweetie Belle ventured in that awkward moment where everypony in the room knows the answer, but nopony wants to take the risk of answering wrong exactly because everypony should know...

"Correct!" Twilight said. "Telekinesis, or TK, is the most common unicorn spell and is usually the first one any unicorn learns."

Without missing a beat, the box of chalk exploded open, and six more pieces of chalk found their way to the floor in front of each student.

Next to Anon, Dinky gulped, staring at her chalk.

"Telekinesis is an example of something known as neutral magic," Twilight explained as she walked through the class. "That means it only requires intent. You simply visualize the movement of an object and coax your magic into action."

Nopony moved. The chalk, understandably, did the same.

"C'mon," Twilight, attempted to encourage them. "Give it a try."

Sweetie Belle made a strangled noise. Dinky was sweating bullets. Snips and Snails exchanged a loaded glance, while Azure shrugged.

Horns spluttered, sparks were shot. Some struggled to no effect, like Sweetie Belle, whose chalk resolutely refused to move no matter what faces she made at it. Others, like Snail and Snips, only managed to change their chalk from white to a shade of pinkish red with blue polka dots.

And then there was Dinky, whose chalk erupted in a burst of smoke and brimstone. Her face now approximated the pale horse of death, and she blinked away the dust of pulverized chalk.

Anon was unimpressed.

Twilight even more so.

"Of course, simple doesn't mean easy," Twilight said, watching the pandemonium unfold. "It takes a great deal of practice before one gets enough control for any precise task. You will mess up, you will fail, and you will turn your parents into potted plants. Accidents happen. That's why we're here, to learn and to fail safely."

"I think the plant thing was just your magic being ridiculous, Twi," Spike piped out from the kitchen. "Like that one time you accidentally spelled Smarty Pants to-"

Twilight flushed an impressive shade of red, and with a flash of her horn she vanished in a shower of purple sparks.

She, of course, reappeared in the kitchen, sticking her hoof straight into the dragon's mouth, silencing him with ruthless, if messy, efficiency.

"Was that teleportation?" Sweetie Belle asked. "Is that also neutral magic?"

Anon raised her head, her interest piqued. Teleportation was almost like her own powers, at least in appearance. Though her ability was quicker and wasn't so flashy. It seemed Twilight had to convince reality she was actually somewhere else. Anon just… went around it. (And occasionally clocked it in the back of the head with a blunt object.)

"Eh? Oh! Yes!" Twilight said, trying to shake her hoof free of dragon-spit while Spike pulled pony-fur off his tongue. "Teleportation is another spell only requiring intent. To make it work, you need to visualize the location and imagine appearing there."

Sweetie Belle's face lit in excitement while Twilight quickly turned horrified.

"Of course, that's an oversimplification. Teleportation is a veryadvanced and tricky piece of magic," Twilight amended quickly, a strained smile on her face. "So we will not be learning it today."

Sweetie Belle sighed in disappointment, Twilight sighed in relief.

"I have a question." Azure said, raising her hoof. "If magic you only need intent for is called neutral magic, what's it called if you need more than intent?"

"That's called esoteric magic." Twilight explained, adding it to the board. "Esoteric magic uses emotions to guide and strengthen the spell. Do any examples come to mind?"

"Gem searching!" Sweetie Belle said excitedly, her previous disappointment already forgotten. "Rarity goes gem hunting sometimes and she uses this spell, she says she has to imagine all the dresses she'll make with the gems and how happy the dresses will make the ponies wearing them. That has to be esoteric."

"Right," Twilight nodded, though her voice sounded uncertain. "if she needs to be in a certain state of mind, that technically counts as esoteric magic."

"Wait," said Snips. "So is dark magic, like, magic powered by hate?"

Twilight grimaced, shooting a brief glance at Anon.

Anon raised a brow at this, and then it clicked.

She must think I was hurt by dark magic, somehow. But-

Anon remembered. The blade slicing through her soul, carving her to pieces, leaving tattered remains where she was supposed to be.

But that's ridiculous, right?

"Not necessarily," Twilight finally said. "Lots of spells require certain emotions, or a state of mind, that could be considered negative. Elemental magic is notorious for it. Fire especially. Dark magic is… more of an arbitrary label for certain kinds of harmful magic, rather than a category of its own."

Anon raised a brow. This puzzle was fairly easy to solve. It had only two parts, after all. If the emotions alone did not make a spell evil, there was only one other thing that could.

"It's in the intent, right?" Anon asked. "Dark magic is what it's called when you use magic with the intent to hurt somepony."

Twilight gulped.

"Correct."

Anon blinked. Once, twice.

She had to be wrong but…no. There was it again. That shudder.
Twilight was afraid. Now Anon just had to figure out of why.

Snips hoof shot up again

"So if neutral magic is only intent, and esoteric is intent and emotions, is there, like, an only emotions kind of magic?"

Twilight nodded, thankful for the segue.

"Good question. And there is one magical phenomenon that only has an esoteric component with no actual intent."

Grabbing a piece of chalk, she wrote on the board.

Magical Surges.

"Magical surges happen when a unicorn's magic becomes heavily emotionally charged, but has no real intent. The magic might try to 'guess' what the intent of the caster was, but if it reaches up to that point, it is now fully out of the caster's control - and we call that a surge"

"Congratulations on the cutie mark, Dinky," Twilight said towards the gray filly. "Another common side effect of surges are cutie marks. We're not sure how they're connected, but it's thought that-

"But I already had my cutie mark," Dinky interrupted.

"Really?" Twilight asked, getting a nod from the foals. "Huh."

"What?" Dinky jumped in place, her face gone pale. Well, paler. "Is that bad?"

"No!" Twilight exclaimed, trying to sound reassuring. "Goodness no. It's just that usually, after your cutie mark appears, a pony's magic settles down and surges become far less common. For a surge to occur after you gained your cutie mark... That means your magic may be exceptionally powerful."

"B-but I can't even use it properly!" Dinky argued, pointing at the pile of chalk dust. "Everything just crumbles!"

Twilight laughed. Dinky frowned, her ears lying flat against her skull.

"Sorry," Twilight apologized quickly. "It's just that the same exact thing happened to me. You're putting far too much magic into it." She smiled, seemingly reminiscing about something. "I can't even count how many things I've broken trying to lift them. Once, I tried to move a chair and it catapulted through the ceiling."

"Oh," Dinky whispered.

"Have you ever thought about Celestia's school for gifted unicorns?" Twilight asked.

"No?" she said, sounding profoundly confused.

"I can ask your mom - the mailmare right? - about it for you, if you want?" Twilight offered. Dinky simply nodded, still mildly dizzy from the sheer weight of her realization.

"Is getting a cutie mark after a surge normal for unicorns?" Anon asked, turning the attention back to her.

"Yes." Twilight replied. "Surges aren't too common overall, but when they do happen, the amount of emotionally charged magic is often enough for a cutie mark to appear."

Anon raised a brow.

"So, can any esoteric spell do that, like the fire I conjured?"

"Fire?" Twilight asked. "What fire?"

"The fireball!" Snail said.

"Yeah!" Snips jumped in. "Spring used one to melt the Dodgeball of Doom™."

"I wouldn't call it a fireball," Anon argued. "It's more like a... flamethrower?" she shrugged. "There were no balls of fire. And no explosions. It's just heat."

"Interesting," Twilight said slowly. "Want to demonstrate?"

"Ehm, do you have anything you don't mind me… melting a little?" Anon asked.

Twilight seemed to think about it for a moment, before she ran off briefly and returned with a giant ice cube, which she placed on the floor in front of her.

Huh, well, if there is a thing I probably won't set on fire, it's water.

Anon took a deep breath, reaching deep into the same place she stored all the things she never wanted to think about again.

She imagined them wriggling like worms in the palm of her hand.

And then she imagined them on fire.

"Brisingr," she whispered.

Her horn lit, and the ice cube melted into a puddle on the floor. Spike sighed at the sight - he threw a mop at Twilight, muttering something.

"Esoteric," Twilight commented. "Anger, right?"

"Some of it," Anon allowed after a few beats.

"The incantation," Twilight said. "I don't recognize it."

"It's… not really magical?" Anon said with a shrug. "It's just something I associated with fire. Helps me picture it in my head."

"You learned it by yourself?" Twilight asked. There was some other, unrelated question hidden in Twilight's voice, Anon was almost sure of it. "Practicing magic like that can be very dangerous."

"Nope." Anon answered casually. "I learned it from a friend of mine."

"Really?" Twilight said - now Anon was sure of it. There was definitely something in her voice. "I would have a few words with your friend, then."

"Why?"

"It's not really safe - the way you cast it," Twilight explained. "You charge the spell with emotions and point it at something. That's a good way to get a surge on your hooves."

Anon blinked.

Daybreaker taught her that spell, made her practice it over and over. Until she couldn't get it wrong. That spell saved her life.

So why did she teach me incorrectly?

With a small smirk on her face, Twilight asked, "Want to learn how to do it without the risk of self-explosion?"

"You would just… teach me how to light things on fire with my mind properly?" Anon asked, because that definitely had to be against some rule.

"Well, yes," Twilight said flatly. "I'm not naive. Any unicorn foal will try to learn magic on their own. If I refuse to help you, you're just going to do it incorrectly and without supervision. That's how wildfires start. At best."

She paused.

"And I would like to reiterate that I live in a tree."

Anon snorted.

But even then, the small, nagging question remained.

Why did Daybreaker want me to have a surge?

She glanced down at her flank - the place where she felt searing, burning pain before she passed out. At the patch of fur she swore was a smidge different shade of green than before, though it was such a slight difference that it could have just been a trick of light.

And why do I have a feeling it has something to do with that?

In an ancient manor house, Spoiled Rich stared at a dented coffee table.

With a scream of frustrated rage, she kicked the table into a wall. The piece of antique furniture shattered on impact, throwing splinters of aged ebony all over the room and onto the nice Saddle Arabian rugs.

Spoiled Rich wasn't angry.

Spoiled Rich was furious.

"Hello mother."

The mare scowled and turned to Diamond Tiara, the filly standing in the hallway to the rather opulent drawing room - or what remained of it after her mother's rage session.

"Diamond, I want you to stop associating with that… that urchin," Spoiled Rich spat. "The plan has changed."

"But mother-"

"Diamond Tiara," Spoiled Rich walked towards her daughter, eyes cold and muzzle in an ugly grimace. "You know I just want what is best for you., right?"

"Yes mother, I-"

"You will stop talking with her," Spoiled Rich commanded, in a voice that sent chills down Diamond's spine. "You will stop interacting with her in any way except to remind her of her place. She is not worth your time. Is that clear?"

"No, mother, I just-"

Spoiled Rich saw red.

The mare blinked, confused, her hoof suddenly aching.

Diamond backed away, whimpering and rubbing her bruised cheek.

"You. Do not. Get. To tell me no," Spoiled Rich hissed.

Diamond straightened herself, blinking away tears. Something in her broke. And something else got a chance to be set right. The look in her eyes changed.

There was no more fear in them.

"I came here to tell you we have a guest, mother," Diamond Tiara said, watching with grim satisfaction as the expression on Spoiled Rich's face morphed from rage to confusion and then, finally, to horror.

"Good evening," said a cheery looking white pegasus with a pink mane in a bun and a clipboard. "My name is Sunny Skies. I'm with Foal Protective Services."

Spoiled Rich gulped, lost for words. The pegasus spoke in a pleasant voice, watching her with an innocent, guileless expression despite watching what had just happened. And yet…

For a moment - just a moment - Spoiled would swear she saw the pegasus eyes burn with inner fire.

And then Sunny Skies smiled.

Spoiled Rich screamed.

Celestia did always love this part of her other job.

Author's Note

Ah, turns out the name of this chapter has been quite prophetic. English is a ridiculous language that makes zero sense and I blame the French.

This had been mostly world-building chapter. I like world-building. World-building is my friend.

And Spoiled Milk (Yes, that is Spoiled Rich’s maiden name and yes, it is hilarious) got what she got. Poor Diamond though.

Many, many thanks to PseudoBob Delightus for editing and Discombobulated Soul for proofreading. It would not be possible without them.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Dread of Diamonds

The magic lesson came to an end ten minutes early.

For this, multiple factors were at fault.

First was Dinky, somehow managing to embed a quill several inches deep in the ceiling of the second floor of the library tree, where even Twilight couldn't pull it out. (Well, without also pulling down the whole tree crown down, that is.)

Second was Spike, coming in with snacks and distracting everypony from learning their spells.(It was nachos. The cheesy, unhealthy and far too good kind.)

The third was Rainbows Dash, crashing through the window while muttering something about Applejack and a catapult. (What connection there was between the apple farmer and siege weaponry Spike did not know nor he dared to guess.)

It was at this point an exasperated Twilight decided enough was enough and ended the lesson, giving a few last tips to foals now promptly exiting the building (being Ponyville residents, most of them had enough sense to recognize Ponyville shenanigans when they were afoot. The only exception to this was Spring, who ran the second Rainbow Dash crashed, for which Twilight couldn't really blame her.)

All in all, Spike would say the magic kindergarten was a success with minimal damage to both the library and to its occupants.

So this was how we got Spike, clearing the book strewn floors of the library, eating leftover nachos in between each sweep. All the while Twilight kept pacing around him, reminding him not to stain the books with cheese sauce and muttering about how tired Applejack was, and how it was causing trouble around town. (This Spike found particularly funny coming from Twilight, who spent every exam period in Celestia’s school replacing her blood with pure caffeine and her own liquified and melted nerve endings.)

And then Twilight paused, bit her lip and started to make faces and Spike immediately raised red flags.

Spike had many of those. Red flags for all occasions. Living with an eccentric, uber powerful unicorn came with a certain attitude. This seemed like code Carmine. Which was less bad than code Maroon, but a bigger deal than code Vermilion.

If Spike had to make an educated guess - and he was very good at guessing when Twilight was involved - Twilight had something to say - oh, something to ask - and this something would make it awkward for both of them, which was why she was stalling and trying to come up with a way of avoiding talking about it.

She sighed.

Spike gave her an expectant look.

“Spike,” Twilight began hesitantly. “Are you… are you sure?”

He relaxed.

Oh. That. That question. That was no problem. Could have been code Cardinal! No issue at all, really.

“Yes.” Spike answered quickly.

He’d already made his decision and he was sticking with it.

Twilight's shoulders slumped.

“Sorry, I just worry.” Twilight said, grimacing. “After last time...”

“I know,” Spike said. “But I want to go.”

Spike wanted to go to school. With the other foals. Except therein lay the issue.

‘Other foals’ implied he was one of them.

Spike was a dragon. And there were ponies who would not let him forget that. The first time Spike went to public school things did not…end well.

“I just wanna try, ya know?” Spike said. “Be normal? For once?”

His tone was unsure, but he wasn't. Ponyville would be different from last time. Spike knew that in his bones.

For one, the ponies of Ponyville - Celestia bless them - were not the most wordly kind. Many of them, upon first seeing Spike riding on Twilight's back, simply assumed dragons were the norm in the big cities. Nopony else was pointing it out, so it had to be! You wouldn't want to look stupid and ignorant by pointing up the obvious, would you?

A great many things can slip under the notice if you just act like they are normal. Normalcy, after all, is just a habit we all pretend to share.

By the time anypony came to question Spike's presence, he was already Spike, the library assistant who likes gems and baking and power pony comic books. The fact he was also a dragon became this background thing nopony really thought about very hard.

Then there were the foals themselves.

He first met with Diamond Tiara while hiding from Nightmare Moon's attack.

Considering the circumstances were not exactly typical - locked in a basement with shadow monsters unleashed on the town, Diamond Tiara crying because the shock started wearing out and it turned out twisted ankles hurt a lot -it didn't say much about Ponyville's foal population. But even afterwards, like right now, the foals of Ponyville didn't act any differently when he was around. He was just…Spike.

That might have been helped by the fact that Spring didn't even bat an eye at the fact he wasn't a pony and while the green filly didn't seem to notice it, the other foals saw her as cool and mysterious so of course they would try to emulate her. She wasn't afraid, why should they be?

“I know I'm never going to be normal,” Spike said softly, Twilight frowning as he spoke. “And I will never really fit in. But I want to try.”

Twilight sighed.

“Spike, that's not true,” Twilight said passionately. “You’re not strange. Or weird. You’re you.”

“I'm a dragon hatched by a pony.” Spike deadpanned. “That's strange, right?”

Twilight shrugged.

“Well, but that's just your situation,” Twilight with a wave of her hoof. “Not who you are.”

Spike stopped sweeping for a moment. Considering it for a moment.

“Thanks,” Spike said with a genuine smile.

He resumed working, back turned to Twilight.

“But you know I'm still going, right?”

Twilight sighed.

“I know.”

Twilight glanced at the spot Spring was sitting just a while ago, the place lightly charred from her attempts at fire magic.

“So, you also noticed that Spring is-”

“Kinda kooky?” Spike interrupted. “Yeah, I mean, it's pretty hard to miss. Also, I think she jumped through a wall?”

Twilight blinked. Thinking about it, she hadn’t seen the filly go through the door, maybe the window? But that was too far up.

“Oh,” was all that Twilight managed to say on that.

Meanwhile, Spike moved on for another claw full of nachos, chewing as he went to sweep another part of the library.

Running through walls wasn’t that weird to him. He’d met Pinkie Pie, after all. And he lived with Twilight. The laws of physics were for other people.

“Not to mention,” he added as he swallowed. “She has Celestia's…peytral, torc? Her necklace-thingy around her neck. Wonder where she got it.”

“She has WHAT?!”

Anon walked home.

That alone was a strange thought to the jumper. But calling it the house trying to be a home didn't feel right anymore. As much as it terrified Anon, the house had tried and it had succeeded. It was home. Calling it other than anything else felt like lying.

But it was when she arrived home (home!) that things started to get really strange.

For starters, Diamond Tiara was there.

And so was Celestia.

“Ehm, hello?” Anon said, bringing the attention of three pairs of eyes to her.

What awaited her inside was Sunny Skies, sitting down with Lyra and Bon Bon and sipping on scalding hot tea - Anon had to guess that even in her disguise, the alicorn of the sun simply did not understand what hot was - while Diamond Tiara sat under her wing, her expression stark and jaw clenched, staring at her knees. Very much looking like she was trying not to cry.

Diamond had a bruise on her cheek.

Anon blinked.

Once, twice.

“What happened,” Anon said in a voice that was both calm but also brittle and sharp like shattered glass.

Somebody had hurt her friend. Again.

There was a sudden burst of fire inside Anon’s gut. A sensation like molten iron coursing through her veins.

Anon was angry.

But there was nothing to do - no use or release for that anger. For now, at least. That would come later. Now, she had to plan and plot and make sure her friend was okay first.

No time to get angry. You get even later.

There was a series of quiet looks exchanged between the adults in the room as Anon quietly trotted over to Diamond, a promise of unspeakable violence in her eyes.

“There was a…situation,” Sunny Skies said delicately. “I deemed that Diamond Tiara was to be removed from the care of her parents.”

Anon's whole body went stiff, heart wrenching in her chest.

That was not supposed to happen!

Sicking Celestia at Spoiled Rich was supposed to get Spoiled off her back. Anon felt vindictive and wanted to be absolutely sure, without a shadow of any doubt, that Spoiled Rich wouldn't get her way and finagle her way into adopting her. Nothing more.

Which goal accomplished, sure, but robbing Diamond Tiara of her home wasn't a part of the plan.

And all of that, because she couldn’t help herself and mocked Spoiled Rich. Of course that mare would take out her anger on her daughter when she slipped out of reach. She should have known better. She knew what angry adults were like. She knew. She should have done something other than just leave.

And she probably should have been a little more clear in her message to Celestia. Just writing down ‘I need Sunny Skies’ wasn't really enough of an explanation, thinking about it . Anon just thought Celestia would stop by first and ask her a few questions before going and destroying Diamond's home life!

How…how did Celestia even know where to go? I never specified anything!

“And, well,” Lyra said awkwardly, interrupting Anon’s downright spiral. “We're still registered foster parents in the system.”

“There is an option for Diamond to stay with us,” Bon Bon said. “At least for a little while.”

“Definitely not permanently,” Sunny added. “Diamond's father seemed unaware of what was going on when I confronted him. His crime was being an absent parent who did not pay enough attention to his daughter at home. If he works on correcting that issue, he will be getting custody of Diamond. But until then, she needs a place to stay.”

“And if he doesn't?” Anon asked, watching Diamond grimace by Sunny's side. “What then?”

“Sterling Silver had already agreed to take Diamond in if it comes to that.” Sunny said. “He is listed as one of Diamond's emergency contacts and she trusts him.”

Anon nodded at that. She didn't know it for sure, but it was probably Silver Spoon's dad. She did know that Filthy Rich and Silver Spoon’s father were old friends, so that made some amount of sense. Though it made her wonder where Diamond's grandparents were.

“Spring, are you okay with Diamond staying?” Lyra said suddenly, giving Anon a very concerned - almost scared - look.

“Yeah.” Anon answered with an easy going shrug, trying to mask the swirl of emotions bubbling just under the surface. “I’m just…surprised.”

Lyra gave her another look of concern.

“If that's all, we should get Diamond settled,” Sunny Skies said. Motioning them to move upstairs - probably to her bedroom they were not going to share.

With some shuffling, Anon watched both Bon Bon gently pick the still lethargic Diamond up, with Lyra lagging a little behind, giving Anon more pensive looks, before moving behind her fiance.

Anon stayed where she sat, confused and not knowing what to do with herself now.

Diamond had been hurt. She had been hurt because of her.

Some things never changed, it seemed.

“I know this was a surprise to you,” Sunny said suddenly, Anon flinched. She had missed that Sunny stayed behind, too focused on Diamond. “But I had to act.” Sunny continued.

Anon turned towards Celestia, the disguised alicorn still sipping on her damned jasmine tea with that calm, serene expression.

“Nah, I understand,” Anon said with a sigh, reining in her emotions a little. “I think. I just….how did you get my message? I didn't really explain things.”

Celestia raised a brow.

“Message?”

Anon froze. Something felt stuck in her throat.

“You know, the one asking you to come?” Anon said with forced nonchalance. “Why else would you be here?”

Anon watched Sunny, searching. Waiting for some signs of recognition on the faux pegasus.

Anon found none.

“Ah, of course. That message,” Sunny said awkwardly. “You should go talk to Diamond. I think she needs it.”

Anon gulped. Sunny had just lied to her.

Celestia never got her letter.

“Right,” Anon said, getting up, only just stopping herself from running up stairs. “I better go.”

So who else called her here?

Anon found Diamond in her–and, for the foreseeable future, their–room.

“Diamond?” Anon said. Lyra and Bon Bon already left the room. It was only them. She didn't know if it made her feel better or worse. She definitely felt like she wanted them near, but also very much not. Not for this conversation.

Diamond sat on a bed - a second one and a new addition to the room - hind legs dangling over the edge, staring into nowhere.

“Yeah?” Diamond replied, eyes downcast, hoof massaging her cheek absentmindedly.

“I'm sorry.”

Diamond managed a small smile.

“Don't be,” Diamond said easily. “It isn't your fault.”

Anon sighed to herself.

I have a strong feeling I just had this conversation. Just from the other side.

“It kinda is,” Anon said, sitting next to Diamond. The mattress of the bed was soft. Far too soft for her taste. “Sunny was only there ‘cause of me.”

Diamond opened her mouth, then shut it again. The bedroom fell as silent as a librarian’s tomb.

“No. It's my fault,” Diamond said with far too much nonchalance. “I goaded my mother into it.”

Anon clenched her jaw. She imagined Spoiled Rich. She imagined the True Spork. Then she imagined using the True Spork on Spoiled Rich and shoving it into places normally reserved for a proctologist’s examination.

It helped a little.

“How exactly did you ‘goad your mother’,” Anon said, glad to be sitting so she could use her front hooves for air quotes, “into punching you in the face?”

“I told her no,” Diamond said with an easy shrug.

Anon started to massage her temples. It was the only thing she could do to prevent herself from screaming or committing grievous bodily harm onto certain parties.

Is that how I make others feel when I talk?

“Jesus-fucking-Christ,” Anon said.

Diamond tilted her head.

“I don't know what any of those words mean.”

Anon took a deep breath. She was not going to get through this conversation sane without aid.

“Hey, want some candy?” Anon asked Diamond suddenly.

“Candy,” Diamond deadpanned, brow raising upwards.

Anon smiled. She jumped off the bed and went to the center of the room, moving a loose floorboard out of the way with her magic.

She pulled a candy bar from the hole in the floor.

“Yup,” Anon said, tossing it towards the other filly. “Sweets always make me feel better.”

Diamond blinked, the ice-pack forgotten, she simply stared at the hole in the floor filled with candy bars, chocolate and was that a box of bonbons?

“Spring,” Diamond said slowly, “why do you have sweets hidden in your floor?”

This time, it was Anon’s turn to shrug.

“I already said, ‘cause it makes me feel better.” Anon answered, grinning.

Diamond gave her another blank stare.

“That doesn't answer the question, Spring.”

Anon sat back down, staring at the chocolate held in her hoof.

The simple truth was, she started hiding food around the house out of the ingrained belief she would one day run out of it.

How was she going to explain this now that Diamond was living with her? How would she explain any of those old, treacherous, lifesaving habits she still had? Diamond and her may have been more similar than Anon wanted to admit, wanted to see in this world, and Diamond might be able to understand some of it. At least a little but…

But, in truth, Anon wasn't sure she wanted Diamond to understand. What sheer desperation to live could turn you into.

Because, quite frankly, nobody deserved to understand that. Least of all one of her friends.

Anon looked at the chocolate in her hoof again, it was starting to melt a little. Dark, sticky thing refusing to let go, staining her.

The stash…she could share that story. That, at least, had a happy ending.

Anon took a deep breath.

“I, eh, kinda used to steal and hide food ‘round the house,” Anon admitted. “For emergencies.”

“For emergencies,” Diamond deadpanned. “You ‘kinda’ stole food. For emergencies.”

The incredulousness in Diamond's voice was both dripping and cutting.

“Yeah,” Anon said. “In case I get hungry.”

Diamond began to roll her eyes but then stopped, putting two and two together.

Anon was always far too scrawny.

“Spring,” Diamond said softly. ”They wouldn't let you starve.”

The ‘not again’ part Diamond did not say out loud.

“Well, I know that now.” Anon said sheepishly. “Anyway, I figured, both Bon Bon and Lyra are pretty smart, they will notice the food I've been nicking to stash away. So I made one obvious stash for them to find and take away.”

It was what usually worked for her. Give others easy answers and they stop looking further into it once they confirm what they already thought. After all, why ask questions when you think that you already have the answer?

Of course, in this scenario, Anon was still expecting some punishment for stealing the food - but better that than losing her lifeline in case she had to run. Starving was notfun.

But, of course…

“They, eh, didn't do that.” Anon said, rubbing the back of her head. “They just added more to it!”

That last part was exclaimed with maybe too much enthusiasm, but Anon still felt strongly about it.

“Well, they did take some of the stuff that wasn't really…fresh anymore,” Anon clarified “But they put other stuff in. And I kept it up. Stealing food just to see what they will do. And after a longer while, it wasn't even real food anymore. Just…what made me happy. By now it's mostly just a sneaky snack depository.” she smiled. “Bit of a miracle we don't get mice in here, frankly.”

“Oh.” Diamond whispered. “That's nice of them.”

Anon nodded

“It is, and they are.” Anon said fondly. “It's one of those things I had to…get used to. I guess. Ponies being nice to me.”

Diamond Tiara sighed, looking away.

“I…” she started, hesitating. “Sometimes mother would send me away without dinner. But I learned to be persuasive with the maids, so I would get dinner, anyway.”

“Persuasive?” Anon asked.

“Blackmail.” Diamond said flatly. “A lot of blackmail.”

Anon growled, startling Diamond.

“And they would not give you food without that?” Anon demanded.

Diamond shook her head. “They were too scared of my mother. I don't blame them.”

Diamond fell silent for a moment.

“Spring, when you saw me, and you got this really intense look…what were you planning?”

“I don't think you want to know Dia.” Anon answered honestly. (It involved the True Spork and was decidedly unpleasant for at least one party involved.)

“You wanted to hurt her.” Diamond Tiara said.

It was not a question.

“I wanted to stop her,” Anon said seriously. “From doing this again to you. You’re my friend. I…I’ve had enough of my friends getting hurt.”

Or worse, but Anon didn't feel the need to add that.

Diamond face softened.

“You should try being kinder to yourself. “

Anon blinked.

“What?”

“I'm not dumb, Spring.” Diamond said. “You sometimes act like anything that happened to you is okay, because it happened to you. Because it's just how things are.”

Diamond turned, throwing the covers over her, Anon only staring stunned.

“You deserve better than that.”

Anon didn't reply, she didn't know how.

“Spring?” Diamond mumbled.

“Hmm?”

“Goodnight.”

Anon gave her a wry smile.

“Goodnight Diamond.”

Morning was an awkward affair.

This was usually true for most, and especially Anon and especially this morning.

She had found herself unable to sleep for more than an hour at a time, always waking up sweaty and tired, heart drumming in her chest.

It wasn't Diamond's fault. If anything, she helped a little. As strange as it sounded, Anon was pretty unused to the idea of sleeping alone. Most of her life, she was sharing living quarters with someone. Her presence was…comforting.

No, the dreams were not Diamond's fault. The mess in her head was on Anon alone.

She would deal with it. She always did.

If there was a bright side to her restless night, it was the fact she did not remember her dreams, somehow avoiding Luna's attention. Anon didn't feel like talking to the alicorn princess right now. Any of them, really.

She had her head already too filled with conflicting thoughts. Of Daybreaker’s possible motives for lying to her and of Celestia’s hidden plans for her. Adding another alicorn into the mix wasn't a very attractive idea at the moment.

With nothing to do, and unwilling to just lay in bed without distraction, Anon crawled out of her bed, feeling very much like a walking corpse while she dragged her sleepy body into the bathroom.

She phased through the doors, not wanting to wake Diamond by opening a creaking door and because she could not be bothered to open it normally.

So she sat in the shower, hot water falling on her fur while she tried to breathe.

There was a deep, bitter irony about Diamond ending up with her here. Spoiled Rich did want them to be like sisters.

She probably should have been more careful with what she wished for. Anon had ample experience there.

Done feeling sorry for herself, Anon got out of the shower.

Diamond was asleep when she went in.

This wasn't the case when she got out.

Anon had walked out of the bathroom, towel around her shaggy mane, Diamond staring at her with a stormy expression. The bruise on her cheek still showing a little.

“Morning Dia,” Anon said tiredly. “Bathroom’s free.”

“Spring, can I hug you?” Diamond said suddenly.

Anon tilted her head, confused.

Finally, she shrugged.

“Sure?”

Diamond did. It was quick, and Anon felt herself stiffen and flinch at the contact. But it…it wasn't terrible, she guessed.

Diamond then left for the bathroom, leaving Anon standing confused in the middle of the room.

It took her a minute and a glance at the mirror to realize the reason behind Diamond's sudden surge of affection.

Wet fur doesn't hide scars.

When Anon and Diamond found their way downstairs, breakfast was already served.

And Filthy Rich was already waiting.

If Anon looked tired, Filthy Rich looked downright drained. The stallion had seemingly aged twenty years since she had last seen him - he looked greyer, wearier. His shoulders were slumped and there were giant bags under his eyes.

And, despite his state of advanced dishevelment, the second he saw Diamond, he smiled.

“Dad!”

The filly ran up to him, impacting like a miniature bejeweled missile into Filthy Riches side, nearly toppling him over.

“Diamond,” Filthy Rich choked, the grown up stallion on the verge of tears. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into Diamond's mane, holding her close.

“Dad, it's okay,” Diamond said, crying openly now. “You didn't know.”

“I should have,” Filthy Rich said gravely.

“You had work. I understand.”

Filthy Rich stiffened. He pulled Diamond away from the hug, his expression turning pained, as if what Diamond said physically hurt him. Maybe it did.

“Diamond,” he said slowly. “Please. Let me.”

He took a deep breath.

“You don't have to make excuses for me. I failed you. I’m sorry.”

Diamond looked away,

“I sold it,” Filthy Rich said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Diamond snapped to attention, eyes widening.

“What.”

Filthy Rich shrugged.

“The company. I sold it.”

“But- but all your work,” Diamond stammered.

“It wasn't important,” he said, pulling Diamond back into the hug. “You are.”

The conversation following was not an easy one. Diamond had to stay with them for a little while.

The reason was simple.

“What will happen to Spoiled Rich?” Bon Bon asked.

“Spoiled Milk,” replied Filthy icily. “We’re no longer together.”

Divorce proceedings. And getting a new house - the manor belonged to Spoiled Milk’s family, despite the fact it was an almost uninhabitable ruin before Filthy Rich had it remodelled. Apparently, Spoiled’s father demanded they have a prenup before their marriage, despite the fact that the Dairy family was on the verge of total bankruptcy. A decision Filthy Rich could only laugh at now.

So, after a tearful goodbye, the two foals went back to their room in solemn silence, both unsure of what to do now. Anon did have some plans for later - if they stayed the same and Bon Bon didn't change her mind, which would be understandable, considering - but that was hours away yet.

And then, Diamond got an idea.

“You have a doll house,” Diamond said, pointing at the miniature, wooden structure in question. “We could play with it.”

It was simple, it was distracting and it was better than sitting about being sad, Diamond thought. It was a great suggestion! Except…

“Absolutely not,” Anon said quickly.

“Why?” Diamond whined. “I want to play with you!”

Anon gave it a quick glance. She had kept the toys Bon Bon and Lyra gave her clean on their shelf and in the toy box. They were gifts and deserved at least that, but she never played with them, for multiple reasons.

First, it was juvenile. She was a jumper, for goodness’ sake! She had been stabbed and shot at and she had practical experience running from cannibals! Playing with dolls was for little kids, not for somebody who knew what color their spleen was. (Red. It was red. All organs are red when they are still running. Though the shade differs.)

The second reason was a little more embarrassing.

“I don't know how,” Anon admitted.

“How can you not know how?” Diamond snarked. “It's a dollhouse! You pick up the dolls and you play with them!”

“Well, I never had toys before! It's not like they come with instructions!”

Diamond first sighed, then rolled her eyes and then finally, picked up the dolls and sat on the floor, doll in hoof.

“Eh, what are you doing?” Anon asked, utterly flummoxed.

“Showing you how to play.” Diamond said haughtily. “Obviously”

She lifted the doll up, stroking its faux mane fondly.

“This is Ruby, she is smart, she is free and she can say no when she wants!”

Diamond paused, taking a deep breath, calming her shaking hoof.

She held another and gave it to Anons.

“This is her friend,” Diamond said, “what's her name?”

“It's a doll,” Anon said flatly. “They don't get to have names.”

“Pretend, Spring.” Diamonds chastised, “You know how to do that, right?”

Anon looked at the doll, in its cutesy, frilly costume and at the green glass eyes. A different shade of green than her own eyes, but familiar still, somehow. It stirred something deep in the recesses of her battered heart. A pang of dull pain always present, but often ignored.

“Summer,” Anon whispered. “She owns a pastry shop.”

“And she misses her older sister.”

Bon Bon was many things at the moment.

Flustered, more than a little angry. A filly in her town was going through all of this and she didn't notice. She was supposed to notice things! That was her job. She joined the agency so she could stop more ponies from going through what she had gone through, help them avoid feeling the way she used to feel. She should have known better.

And she had failed.

All of this to say, when she went up the stairs to check on the filly she failed, Bon Bon wasn't in the best of moods.

“Lyly, what are you doing?” Bon Bon hissed.

Lyra was already there, standing in the doors, eavesdropping,

“Shhh!” Lyra shushed the agent, “Look!” she pointed into the room where Diamond and Spring were.

Bon Bon’s jaw dropped.

“Is that-”

“Spring is playing! With toys!” Lyra exclaimed.

Bon Bon sat down, staring.

“She’s never done that before,” Bon Bon said, mildly dazed by the scene.

“She has, actually,” Lyra chirped. “She would surround herself with toys and then just stare at them helplessly. It was kind of cute.”

Lyra's expression changed.

“I don't think she knew what to do with them before,” she said quietly.

Before Bon Bon could manage to find a reply to that, the door fully opened, revealing Spring standing there with a raised brow, Diamond behind her, still holding the dolls.

“Hey?” Spring said, visibly confused. “Oh, are we going already?”

Bon Bon blinked. Right, she did promise she would take Spring out today, didn't she? She almost forgot on account off…well, everything really. From all that happened in the Cauliflower, to Anon ending up in a hospital to calling her mom yesterday to…all of this mess with Spoiled Rich.

“Eh, and where exactly are we going?” Diamond asked from behind Anon.

And, to make Bon Bon’s day even weirder, Spring smiled one of those rare, genuine smiles.

“Just the best place in Equestria.”

Bon Bon felt something warm spread in her chest.

After all, it was high praise, considering where Spring wanted to go today.

Diamond Tiara was confused.

This was not often the case, so it warranted some attention.

Bon Bon’s BonBons was a candy shop. Diamond Tiara was aware of it. She was also aware of its long-running pseudo-feud with Sugarcube corner (From time to time, Pinkie Pie would try to make chocolate while Bon Bon would try her luck with baked goods, and much suffering followed, as was the way of Ponyville).

What Diamond was not aware of was the space in the back of the shop.

Intrinsically, she knew there had to be one–That was how shops work. They had to make all of their products somewhere. But having never seen it before, the back of the shop was this theoretical area that supposedly existed.

Though it wasn't that exciting, it was basically just a large kitchen.

But that was not what had Diamond Tiara confused.

It was the things currently happening there which baffled her to no end.

Diamond Tiara did not know much of how families were supposed to work. Her world was made of expectations and family was a performance. All she had to do was know her role and play it well. The perfect daughter, the diligent daughter, the obedient daughter who did as she was told. She played those roles and wore that mask tight on her face. Some days, it got so tight she felt it might crack. Some days, she wasn’t sure whether the mask would crack first, or her. Other days it was as natural as breathing.

But it was a mask, a performance, nonetheless.

She did have some reprieve. The rare moments, mostly when her father took her out somewhere, or it was just Silver Spoon and her alone and Diamond had allowed herself to be…herself a little more.

But those moments were rare. Something to cherish and hold close to her heart. Something to make last, to use later when searching for a reason why.

One must understand, the most important thing about a performance is the script. It dictates what happens and how. All that is supposed to be and all that isn't is in the script. It dictates how you act and how you feel. It's the rules by which the universe is run.

The scene she was watching did not feel like a performance. And definitely not one run by a script she knew.

“Eeeeep-”

“Lyly, please. Calm down.”

Lyra was squeaking. And bouncing.

“You got us the Canterlot palace gardens as a venue?!” Lyra shouted excitedly. “I thought that was booked years in advance!”

“Sunny did.” Bon Bon said easily. “She knows the important ponies there.”

“She sure does.” Spring said with a smirk.

Bon Bon gave her a look, shrugged and turned back to her currently-vibrating fiance.

“Have you thought about who we’re going to invite?” she asked.

Lyra stopped bouncing for a moment, appearing thoughtful for a few seconds before shrugging.

“Not really,” she admitted. “We hadn’t even set up a date before.”

“Prepare for a big wedding.” Bon Bon said, turning away from Lyra, choosing to watch Spring prepare something Diamond didnt even begin to recognize in a mixing bowl. “Sunny loves weddings. I know we planned for a smaller ceremony, but I know her. It's not going to stay that way.”

Bon Bon leaned over Springs shoulder, spoon in hoof, scooping up a little of whatever Spring was mixing and tasting it.

“Needs bit more-”

“I know, mom.”

Bon Bon froze for a moment.

“Still getting used to that,” she said after a few beats.

Spring could only nod.

“Yeah. You and me both.”

“You and I,” Bon Bon corrected, at which Spring blew her a raspberry.

Bon Bon rolled her eyes and ruffled Springs' hair.

Diamond simply watched. She did not see, did not feel the script.

If this was a performance, they were wonderfully bad at it. And If there was a script, it was presumably on fire.

She smiled, got up and started to talk to Lyra about wedding dresses - if she had to have a high society upbringing, she may as well use it for something fun. Fancy dress wear was her expertise - she was even named after one!

Diamond didnt know if it would last. How would she look at this moment, in years to come. But she knew that now, as she was, would hold this moment. And she would hold it close.

And unknown to them all, in the basement of a house that wanted to be a home and succeeded, a single silver coin started to glow.

Glow and speak.

“Hey? Does anylin- anypony hear?” an unsure voice asked the empty air.

“My name is Thorax. “

“And I would like to defect.”

Author's Note

Ah, another one done. We are slowly getting there - to the end.

This chapter may be a little rougher, sadly, PseudoBob got swamped with work. In the end, I decided that it would be better to upload now rather than letting you wait even longer. I did take my sweet time already.

Bit of a more…slice-of-life? Comfort? Fuzzy feely, chapter, if you get me. I do like my fuzzy feeling.

I dunno, though, for the changeling guy, Thorax is still okay! Traumatized, but okay!

He aint gonna have it easy, though.

I listen to music while writing, it helps me, for reasons unknowable. This time it was mostly First Rate Town and No Time To Explain, both from Good Kid, mixed in with some Mythmaker, from Paladin for good measure. My taste in music is as impeccable as it is esoteric and byzantine.

Still better than chapter twenty three, I wrote that on only Eurobeat remixes and Payday ost's.

Chapter One: Jumped Right In

Sun shone on the land. The great lush expanse of the untamed Everfree stood tall, sprawling as far as the eye could see. The great spires of Canterlot's proud castle scraped the very sky. Fluffy white clouds were dotting the blue sea like a flock of sheep while a calm breeze flowed through the leaves of grass.

Truly, it was a peaceful day in the land of Equestria.

The key word here: was.

With a flash of lightning and a thunderous roar, reality itself shuddered and, if it could speak, it would ask, ‘what the hell just happened?’, and, ‘who in the blazes just smacked me over my metaphorical head with a bar stool? Rude.’

A wound in the weave, a crack in the barrier dividing worlds. A hastily cut hole into the fabric of spacetime itself. Less a bridge across realities, more of an old, termite ridden plank of wood leading over the gap between them, threatening to break at any time.

The plank is also on fire.

Something jumped out of the hole, fast on its legs, dodging an unseen enemy.

That something was small, had green fur with a wild mane of black and a stubby horn jutting from its forehead, and right now was cursing like a sailor.

A pony. Unicorn filly, to be exact. Smugness was clear in her features as she smirked at something behind her. She was holding a hoof in an ineffective attempt at making a gesture for which you need fingers - well, one finger, at least. “Eat that you sh- Oh.”

At that moment the foal realized she was floating above the surrounding treetops, a fact that rapidly changed as she began her uncontrolled descent back to the ground after gravity was done having a nap.

There was no screaming, flailing blindly or more obscenities. Only a single bizarre thought.

‘No, not again!’

The filly sat by the roots of a tree, below a suspiciously pony-shaped hole in its canopy. Her body was covered in scratches, her attempts at first aid with only the items she had on hoof adding more into the already impressive number of bandages covering her barrel.

She was writing in a journal, green magic covering a ballpoint pen. The journal itself was a cheap one, made from yellow paper so bad it was practically like writing on a tree bark. Made using the most inexpensive ink and printing method possible, so the lines on the pages were crooked and invisible without the use of an electron microscope.Yet still, someone decided that a printed quote from someone famous on top of every page was a must to add, as was a picture of a double-decker bus on the cover, long since faded.

From outside, it was the most ordinary object imaginable, something that comes together with a little pen and one buys for a relative when coming home from a vacation as an afterthought. Yet, to the jumper, it was the most valuable of her possessions: a gift from long ago.

Another page, another quote.

The story so far:

In the beginning, the Universe was created.

This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.

-Douglas Adams

The foal looked over the writing and scrunched her muzzle in a pout.

Three consecutive emergency jumps. No major injuries, several burns, some small lacerations. Avoided frostbite in time. Sadly, I lost the last of my emergency chocolate milk rations in the warp. All in all, stuff going according to expectations, which were that I'm going to die terribly, so that’s probably not good.

She noticed another twig stuck in her mane. Getting it out from the tangled mess turned out to be quite the struggle.

Still in the horse body in another horse land. And still a girl too. I checked. At least the weird psychic power remained a constant. Hopefully, it's going to stick around, kinda need it now that I don't have hands.

With some struggle, she pulled an orange crystal ball from her pocket. Watching the glowing glyphs on it, before nodding and putting it back. The orb gave her warmth and the feeling of security, but with the wild animals howling around her, shelter was something she desperately needed. Her ears flicked in different directions subconsciously.

This world seems alive, or at least not too inhospitable - that's a nice change. No contact with the locals yet, going to avoid it if I can. Not the best experience with the few I met in the adjacent worlds so far. But I need to find a better camp soon and some food. Can't run purely on magelight for much longer.

The unicorn filly gave a deep sigh and looked at the tree, pulling her old hiker jacket closer to her.

Going to hunker down in the tree roots, and see how that goes. My ancestors did it. Cannot be that hard, can it?

End of day 1124ish. Signing out and see you soon.

The foal approached the massive trunk of the old tree, touching the bark with her hoof.

“Now what?”

She didn't get an answer.

Rain.

Thunderstorm was raging above, bolts of lightning striking in the dark clouds hidden by the treetops.
Thousands of water droplets fell from the dark sky, through the greenery, down and down until they landed right on a little pony trying to get through the dense underbrush.

Lacking shelter and soaked to the bone, legs trembling and barely holding her own weight, the lone traveler had problems on her hike through the Everfree. The cold began to get to her. Damp fur wasn’t known for being the best at heat insulation.
No real shelter, wounded, tired, and hungry. A grave situation to be stuck in, but she persevered.

“Dammit all,” she rubbed her hooves together in an ineffective attempt at gaining at least some heat.

Sleeping under the tree, while at least somewhat dry, was cramped and left her muscles sore, the bandaged injuries aching. The jacket was full of holes, and did not really help that much. If it wasn’t for its sentimental value and many pockets, she probably would have discarded it long ago.

But by now she couldn’t bring herself to throw it away, even if a better option appeared. It was one of the few things that made it all the way here. An artifact from a home she was unsure she would ever see again.

“Stupid rain.”

She was sure she saw it somewhere around here from up in the tree: an ancient ruin. The danger of it being occupied was offset by the desperate need for a sanctuary. But her search had yet to produce any fruit other than more exhaustion.

Under her breath, the filly repeated her mantra. The basic needs for survival.

Three minutes without air, three hours without shelter in bad weather. Three days without water, three weeks without food, and three years without toilet paper.

That’s the limit on how long a human being can go without dying or turning into a crazed psychopath.

It’s been over three years since she saw a bathroom and the prospect of soft toilet paper was enough to send her into a frenzy.She was pretty sure that no one healthy should be so sure about the fact that they would kill for a basic utility.

On the other hand, er, hoof, you try wiping with unfamiliar limbs without toilet paper.

Finally, after hours of trekking in the storm, she saw the first signs of civilization. A dilapidated rope bridge.

A relieved sigh left the intrepid explorer and, after carefully testing if the structure was stable, to her great surprise she made her way across the chasm with no incident. Normally, that was the point where the bridge fell apart for dramatic effect, making her run like the IRS were hot on her tail.

The ruins of the castle were impressive, the once magnificent halls and gateways still standing. An echo of their former glory, yet a testament to the skill of their builders.

Going through the archway and side-stepping the rotten gate, the tiny unicorn found herself in a hallway where the roof still held. As good a place as any, she supposed. Grabbing pieces of old lumber from broken furniture and cloth from ancient banners, somehow untouched by moths or other insects, she built a pile.

She needed a fire, but the wood she had was too wet to burn by itself.

First, carefully and with almost religious reverence, she took a small metal box from her pocket, blackened and with holes in its lid. Tearing some cloth into strips and placing it inside the box, she then aimed her horn at it. Feeling the magic buildup and swell, she let images of campfires and memories of staring at the old brick fireplace back home fill her mind.

“Brisinger!” the unicorn whispered, and released her spell.

She smiled. The word itself had no real magical power, unfortunately, but it helped her conjure the idea of fire, which was the important part.

The box heated, releasing gray smoke. Waiting a few painful minutes, filled with shivering and teeth rattling, she opened the box and took the char cloth out, lit some kindling under the wood pile, and tended it until she saw the flames grow.

Fire, one of the cornerstones of civilization. The servant, the savior, and the despoiler.

Steam rising from her green fur, she sat down on her haunches and hummed to herself as she opened the notebook.

Another day, another storm. Water is in enough supply now. Started a fire. Food is next. Interesting plant life in the forest - very Earth-like. Getting closer with each jump, I swear. Nothing dangerous so far, but seeing what waited in the last few, I'm not trusting anything I see.

A shiver ran down her spine at the memory.

Found a ruin, which had some banners in it. Locals (read: small horses) built it. Either they had the habit of building big, or I'm of below-average height. Had trouble reaching anything.

A yawn, eyelids getting heavy.

This body gets tired very easily, or the injuries are taking their toll. Combined with the coming hunger, I’m getting worried about infections - immunity boost or not. Not trained or equipped to deal with this. My supplies are low as they are now.

The storm still continued outside. Water rushing down from the skies.

Going to sleep. Looking for food and exploring tomorrow. Added a few drawings of the stuff I saw today.

End of day 1125hish. Signing out and see you soon.

The unicorn filly stepped into yet another ruined library, an old, rusted halberd levitating beside her.

The rain had not lost any intensity from yesterday, making the decision between exploring the forest or the rest of the castle very easy. Looking for anything useful, she didn’t have much luck. So far, she had a haul of old paper, future firewood, dirty utensils, and her new weapon.

Better than nothing.

Also, by the size of the set of plate armor she found, the green unicorn came to the unpleasant conclusion that she was indeed tiny by local standards. She puffed her cheeks in annoyance. Another thing to add to the long list of seemingly deliberate actions made by the universe itself in a long-standing attempt at making her life as miserable as possible.

There was another option of what happened, but she refused to acknowledge the possibility, just in case she gave the universe more ideas on how to mess with her.

It would not matter anyway, she decided. ‘I am doing my best to avoid the local denizens as much as possible. If all goes well, no one will ever know I was here.’

She found some grass growing between the tiles in what must have been a throne room if the large, important-looking, broken chairs were something to go by.

One was made of black onyx, decorated with a silver picture of a moon, the second design was solid gold. Literally. A miracle that nobody stole it. Or the locals just valued precious metals differently, who knows? Well, the locals, actually. Assuming there were any left.

The grass caught her attention more at the moment. Her rumbling belly made itself known.

“Yeah, I hear you. Working on it.”

She was a horse momentarily. ‘Horses eat grass, don’t they? Sounds logical.

‘At least I know this isn’t poisonous. I had the same grass growing in my goddamn garden.’

The small unicorn bent down, giving the grass a cautious bite, then immediately spit it back out.

“Ergh, blergh. Nope.”

Continuing her bout of exploration, she found locked doors, far away from her starting point. Richly decorated and preserved in great condition, she could see the fine details and craftsmanship. A sigil of a sun on it. Hinges decorated with flowers, spirals, and swirls. With a touch, she confirmed it. Soft, even more solid gold.

No one had bothered to loot the place, nothing was stolen. As if the inhabitants all got up and ran, unable to take anything, and then never came back, or more worryingly, all vanished suddenly.

Interesting conclusions could be drawn from both theories, but none of them meant well for the tiny traveler.

She gave the doors a test whack with the halberd, not even denting the sturdy wood.

"Hmm, let's try it the other way."

Raising one hoof, she leaned against the wood, eyes closed in deep concentration.

Then walked through it.

The doors did not open, she just ignored that little fact. Body blurring and stuttering, until she phased to the other side.

Horn without its telltale glow.

"A bedroom?" she called out. “Really? Not even anything cool? One armory, that's all I’m asking for.”

Time was not as kind to the inside of the room. The outer wall had failed, letting the rain in. Yet there were suggestions to the room’s past beauty. More sun sigils made from gold; remnants of an ebony desk; the broken frame of, frankly, an obscenely large bed.

And two pairs of giant gold horseshoes.

A realization snuck up on her, slowly worming itself into the explorer’s mind.

"Ah, so this used to be hers," she fidgeted with her bandages, reminded of the burns under them.

Nothing useful left here. Only rubble and bad memories.

The next day, she went hunting.

Figuratively, of course. The equine body with its flat teeth did not lend itself well to a meat-based diet.

Her first catch was some wild asparagus, which put up a great fight but was eventually defeated after a prolonged battle of attrition. The asparagus was swiftly followed by a find of cattail, defeated in a blitzkrieg aimed at its tasty, tasty stalks, with the puffy long flower giving it the name serving as good fire starter for later. The sheep sorrel found its end next, joining the prestigious ranks of her future dinner.

Not for the first time, she found herself thankful for the years spent in Boy Scouts. The badge in foraging had come in clutch for her more times than she could bother to remember. The tendency of worlds to share at least some basic similarities in their flora and her knowledge saved her more times than she cared to remember.

Carrying most of her finds in her mouth and pockets, she couldn't help but drool. Maybe it was just how long it had been since her last proper meal, but even a bunch of flowers tasted great. It was no steak, but it came pretty close!

So why did grass taste so fucking horrific? It was like trying to eat a soggy, week-old sock cut into small pieces.

She also got a first glance at some of the forest predators: giant wolves made from twigs and bark.

Timberwolves, she called them with a chuckle.

The forest was active, filled with life after the storm ended during the night. Air felt fresh and clean, the wind playing with her mane.

She counted herself lucky that she saw them first. A dark silhouette stalking in the underbrush. Yellow hungry eyes scanning for prey. Missing her hiding spot in a shrubbery, probably thanks to her own green fur.

The tiny unicorn made a hasty retreat to the safety of the castle, which seemed to ward off predators, or any animal, now that she thought about it. She had not found a single sign of the local fauna in the ancient ruin.

Her other important discovery was a dirt path leading out of the forest. Well-worn and with fresh marks from hooves, very similar to the ones she had been leaving behind wherever she walked, only hers were smaller.

Evidence that the locals were alive. The path could lead to a settlement or even just a lonely hut or cottage in the middle of nowhere. The conclusion stayed the same.

Someone was using the road.

She gave a deep sigh, pen in her grip. Campfire was steadily going, the few remnants of her dinner strewn around.

Explored the ruin yesterday, and found nothing noteworthy. Got food, and encountered hostile wildlife, freaky wooden golems, which I managed to successfully avoid. I know, that's a new one. Added a few drawings. Stumbled upon evidence that the locals are still around.

There was a feeling, settling itself in her chest.

Longing.

The possibility of finding a friendly non-hostile local is tempting. The benefits are clear, but I cannot risk it. Not after last time.

It will be a few more weeks before a safe jump. Gonna spent the time hoarding food and resting. No signs of infection.

End of day 1127ish. Signing out and see you soon.

She slumped down on her improvised bedding made from a pile of ancient banners, using her rolled up hikers jacket as a pillow. And so the filly slept, her dreams filled with visions of golden fire.

The day started as normal, with the forest calm in the morning, awaiting the sunrise. Mist lazily rolling over it.

The little pony went to a nearby stream. Located under the castle, fast, clean running water merrily flowing through the chasm. Drinking her fill, she gave spear fishing a thought after seeing so many of them swimming, but decided to shelve that idea for later.

As she was walking back, her ears twitched, her gut told something was amiss.

The forest fell completely silent.

Then the bushes around her exploded in a shower of dirt and small stones. The timberwolf pounced, jaws open, claws ready to turn the tiny lost unicorn into mince meat.

Time slowed down. Not in the metaphorical sense.

Literally.

A single side step was all it took to get out of the way. Brow furrowed, not in confusion, but in indignant anger.

Time resumed.

With a heavy thud and a splash, one of the most dangerous Everfree predators got an involuntary bath, landing squarely in the cold water. The pony was already booking it and galloping away.

More wolves jumped out of their hiding spots, attempting to cut her off from the safety of the ancient ruins. Swarming like angry hornets.

Run, run to the castle.

Adrenaline shot through her veins, tiredness and injuries forgotten for now. Survival the singular goal.

The pony stopped, hooves skidding on the dirt. Before her, nothing.

"You have to be shitting me."

The old rope bridge, her only lifeline, lay broken in the chasm.

She gulped. No way out now. Howling echoing from all around. Timber wolves closing in, the hungry beast encircling their prey.

The chase had only begun.

Author's Note

Proofread and edited by the great PseudoBob Delightus, all bow before them.

Hello,

This is a story I decided to write alongside my other project. I would really like to specify and give you info about how I plan to do regular updates, but ever since I started actively writing fanfiction, I probably angered some ancient gods or triggered a gypsy curse, because in those few short months: my home got partially blew up by careless neighbors, my dog died and I got run over by a car and I nearly lost my arm in the process.

Nope, that's not an exaggeration, nor a joke. That… that's my life. Honestly, If one day I stop updating my stories and going online, just assume I spontaneously combusted one day, wouldn't even phase me that much.

Chapter Thirteen: Stumbling Around A Little

“Well, that's a bust.”

The streets of Ponyville were–in sharp contrast to the last two weeks–mostly vacated and devoid of life.

This was mostly due to the fact that the Summer Sun Celebration had come to an end, setting a new bar for property damage done to the town in a single night, surpassing even the great calamity of 984, when the Apples lost their whole batch of cider. This was the common consensus the citizens arrived at during the celebration turned party, despite arguments from the newly returned Princess that the damage technically had been done in two nights. The sun didn't rise, yes, but time wise, it has been a whole day and a night.

Luna wasn't very keen on the fact that the first gift she got after her return was an official certificate, made and stamped by the slightly tipsy Mayor Mare right there at the party, honoring her as the new record holder for biggest reparation to be paid in the town's history. (The previous one was Dr. Hooves, who gained it after deciding that shipping nitroglycerin by post was a good idea.)

The other reason for the emptiness of Ponyville’s streets was the rain-ready, overcast sky.

The weather team had prepared the scheduled downpour overnight. It was meant to be the answer to the pleas of the local farmers who, after two weeks of forced sunny days, were getting pretty antsy about their crops.

Or as Applejack put it: "Dash, if there ain't no rain tomorrow, I'm taking the whole darn weather team, you included, and makin' them water the whole o' Sweet Apple Acres. By hoof.”

So rain it was.

But the rain wasn't on Lyra’s mind as she stood in front of the decisively locked doors of Lounges and Lavatories.

"I mean, we should have expected it, really."

Lyra spun around to see Bon Bon facehoofing, and Anon sitting on her haunches by the candy maker's side, staring blankly into space.

"The town did get attacked by shadow monsters just a few days ago," Lyra finished, shrugging at the sign reading CLOSED.

And if that wasn't enough of a hint, the fact that half of the building was missing might have tipped them off.

Bon Bon sagged. "Sorry Honey, I should have checked."

Lyra waved her hoof. “It’s alright. We just have to think of something else to do now.”

Meanwhile, Anon's gaze was transfixed on the town's pavilion and the ponies working together to put the damaged, two-storey building for some reason called pavilion, back together. Because while the streets were empty, the roofs were quite bustling with activity as somepony had to repair the damaged roofs.

Lyra followed the jumper's eyes towards the building, shattered in the battle with the summoned shades. The minty unicorn gave Bon Bon a shoulder bump, pointing her towards the pavilion.

"Repairs are going smoothly, at least." Lyra said, "The old thing needed a new coat of paint, anyway."

Bon Bon gave her a non-committed shrug, while Anon continued staring at the pavilion. The jumper’s thoughts were drawn to it - something broken was being rebuilt, piece by piece.

"Do you think…" The filly started to paw at the road, nervous and desperate for a distraction. "No, it's silly."

The jumper tried her best to appear nonchalant and dismissive, but her tone must have let some of her true emotions through, because her words only caused Lyra to frown.

"I like silly things," Lyra said encouragingly. "Silly things are fun. I think you could use some fun."

Anon halted for a moment, taking a deep breath. Her mind was divided on how to manage the situation - this wasn't the kind of thing she was used to handling.

She didn't even know how she felt. She made a deliberate effort to avoid thinking about such things; there wasn't anything good that could arise from doing so. Just keep going, just keep marching on, until you're either dead or home.

What else was there to do?

Seeing the pavilion being repaired spoke to her for some strange reason - to that little voice, locked in the corner of her head. Despite her attempts at silencing it, there it always was. Whispering. Suggesting. A part of her that wanted to think about it, about stuff the jumper desperately tried to avoid.

There was no point, Anon argued with herself. No meaning to uncover. No gain to be had by trying to unpack it. One could only continue. Feandil did it, marching ever onwards, head held high. Daybreaker at least understood it.

They were gone now, the only true companions she had found on her travels. Yet the thoughts remained - the treacherous whisper slowly turning into a battle cry.

"It's… hard to put into words." Anon struggled out.

Bon Bon leaned closed towards the filly, not close enough to be touching, but enough that her presence was more easily felt. The jumper relaxed a little in spite of herself. The freshly engaged couple already proved that they were willing to rush into danger for her. And while Anon felt guilty for putting them in that danger in the first place, it was reassuring to know that somebody had her back.

Also, the closeness to the candymaker hammered home just how tiny her body was in comparison to the full grown mare. It should have made her feel weak, but it gave her a strange sense of comfort instead.

"Take your time," whispered Bon Bon gently. "There is no rush."

And nowhere to go.

"I…" Anon attempted.

This is a mistake.

The filly gave a deep sigh.

"Do you think that it's still the same building?" the jumper blurted out suddenly.

Lyra tilted her head. "The pavilion? I mean, yeah?"

Anon stayed silent for a moment, her internal turmoil reflected in her expression, as she scrounged her muzzle and bit her lip - as if she was trying to keep her mouth closed, only for the flow of words proving too powerful to contain.

“Where I'm from, we have this… question.” the filly said, her voice still quivering with insecurity, as if she was expecting something to interrupt her, herself most likely. “A philosophical one. Or more of a thought experiment. It's called the Ship of Theseus.”

Anon’s errant hoof continued to draw circles on the dusty road as she waited for a reaction from the two mares, Bon Bon being first to inquire further. The mare’s words were calm and collected, each syllable carefully and slowly pronounced.

“What is it about?” the candy maker asked.

“So, there was this… for lack of a better word, hero.” Anon explained. “And he had a ship. And he sailed with it, like one does. But the ship got damaged. So they replaced parts. Just some at first, but more and more as time went by. The mast, the hull, the sails, the oars. Until nothing of the old ship remained.”

The words came out in a steady flow. It wasn't what the jumper wanted to say, not really. But now that she started, she couldn't stop.

“But…, if-if you change everything about the ship.” Anon continued. “It isn't the Ship of Theseus anymore, right?”

The filly paused for a moment, her ears drooping low. Lyra sprung up to speak, only for Bon Bon to shoot her a look while shaking her head.

This wasn't time for Lyra to speak.

“What if you did it with a person?” asked Anon, not expecting to hear an answer.

Bon Bon held her ground, acting as a pillar for the green filly to lean on. But still, the agent felt her muscles tense up. Seething anger simmering just under the surface.

The implication for what happened to Anon was clear, and the agent couldn’t do anything but listen to the disguised confession.

“I mean, if you take someone,” the filly said.” And you change them. Replace them. Bit by bit. Face, voice.”

Lyra flinched as the filly sighed and swallowed emptily.

“Name,” Anon whispered.

The jumper wanted to stop speaking. Bury these things deep in some dark corner of her mind. But it kept dragging itself back from its grave, ever persistent.

The jumper almost found it ironic - it wasn't the onslaught of life threatening adventures that finally broke the camel's back (or horse in this case). No, it was finally having some peace that would do it.

Before this world, there was always danger. Ensuring she lived to see another day took precedent above everything else. No time to worry about your metaphorical existential crisis when you are in the middle of a literal one.

But now? The survival needs that took so much of her attention before were fulfilled as an afterthought.

And so these thoughts resurfaced once again, only now she didn't have the luxury of pushing them away to get on with the more pressing worries.

“It isn't them anymore,” Anon said, bitterly.

Lyra’s horn lit up as a wave of amber magic got rid of some of the dust from the jumper's coat. The musician gave her a sheepish smile as the tingles caused by the magic made her fur stand.

"Well, I might not know much about the… Ship of Thesaurus or what-have-you.” The amber light of Lyra’s horn dimmed as the unicorn started her characteristically unrhythmic trot towards the town's main square. “But I do know that it's up to Mayor Mare to decide if the pavilion is a new building or not.”

Bon Bon offered Anon a hoof as she got up. The jumper hesitated before taking it.

“Let me guess,” the filly darted forward to be beside the unicorn mare. “Is the building her responsibility ‘cause she’s the mayor?”

“That too,” nodded Lyra. “But mainly because she is the one who gives building permits. Renovation and new projects are separate.”

The filly stared at the mare for a second.

“Oh,” was the answer.

“Anyway,” interjected Bon Bon. “Where are we going now? We have a clear schedule.”

Lyra continued walking down the street, seemingly unbothered by their lack of direction.

“Eh, the doctors’?” Lyra offered weakly, after a few moments of thought where she tried to remember the meticulous schedule Bon Bon prepared in advance for the week (a schedule which was rarely followed, much to the candymaker's annoyance.)

“Tomorrow, Lyly,” answered Bon Bon. “The same day you have your usual doctors appointment. Much easier that way.”

Lyra's smile suddenly brightened up, an idea sneaking its way into her head as she shot the gray skies a calculating look.

“Well, then I think this is an ideal time to grab some hot cocoa!” Her exclamation was met with exasperated expressions from her fiance, yet Lyra’s smile refused to falter. “C’mon Bonnie! Hot cocoa is the best!”

“It's summer, Lyly." Bon Bon sighed. "It's too warm for hot cocoa.”

The jumper was inclined to agree. Walking around in fur coats also did not help matters. Warm beverages just didn't sound like a good idea at the moment.

Lyra snickered. “Nonsense! There is never a bad time for hot cocoa!”

The jumper's ears pressed against her head in embarrassment. It sounded so… childish.

On the other hand, cocoa.

“... I would like some.”

The minty unicorn beamed. To the casual viewer, it almost looked like she grew taller from the sudden rise in smugness in her bloodstream.

“See?! It's decided then!” she said loudly and stepped forwards to the main street.

Sadly, their quest for that most divine of liquids was almost immediately interrupted by a piece of paper landing on Lyra’s nose.

“Hey, who turned off the lights?”

Lyra’s bewilderment over how the world decided to vanish didn't last long– about a second, to be exact–as this was roughly the time that passed before she crashed into the pony carrying the tickets.

Twilight Sparkle, Student of Princess Celestia and Element of Magic, forgot to look where she was going and walked right into her.

Lyra let out a yelp and jumped up, gaining enough altitude to nearly land on a nearby roof. Her eyes grew wide from the pain flaring from her back, the poor mare now fully at the mercy of the ever-cruel mistress named gravity.

Bon Bon’s reaction was immediate: The agent leaped, standing on her hind legs, catching Lyra before she could hit the ground.

Meanwhile, Anon found herself in a garbage can - phasing there in a bout of panic.

Spike grimaced at the carnage, wincing as Bon Bon struggled to stay upright, balancing with the still squirming Lyra. The young drake had been riding on Twilight's back, only to be catapulted to the side by the impact.

“Oh! What are these!?”

And then Pinkie Pie arrived.

The minty unicorn turned sharply towards the incoming pink blur, accidentally swatting Bon Bon's muzzle with her mane, the poor agent let out a mighty sneeze, sending them both tumbling down right on Twilight, who was just getting up from the ground while rubbing her sore muzzle.

Spike sighed.

The young drake approached the tangled mess of limbs and bodies, grabbed the first hoof he saw and pulled somepony out, until the four mares - including Pinkie, who originally wasn't part of the pile up, but decided to join in because it looked fun - were successfully untangled and sitting side by side, little stars dancing above their heads.

“Is everypony alright?” Twilight said as soon as she gained control over her faculties. The still wobbling and dazed mare stumbled around, with Spike trying to hold her upright and only mostly succeeding.

“We're good, right honey?” Bon Bon said through a strained smile, craning her neck towards her marefriend, expecting some sort of answer. The minty mare was clinging onto Bon Bon the same way a wounded soldier to their comrade, silent. “Honey?”

Bon Bons voice turned more high pitched and panicky than the agent intended, but then the minty unicorn tapped her on the snoot, snickering as Bon Bons expression turned deadpan.

“Yup, she's fine,” Bon Bon said towards Twilight, who let out a relieved sigh now that she knew she wasn't responsible for mareslaughter.

“I'm so sorry,” Twilight apologized. “I've been distracted because of these-”

“Tickets to the Grand Galloping Gala?!”

Twilight wilted as behind her Pinkie started bouncing, the ticket of doom in her hooves, her wide eyes sparkling with unrestrained excitement.

“Yeah, those,” Twilight sighed.

If Anon had to hazard a guess, now was the time to try to find some cover. Something better than a garbage can; those were concealment at best. Not to mention that the insides of a garbage can left outside for days in summer heat creates some…potent materials. And smells. Said potent materials and smells were now making the jumper’s eyes water as what was essentially boiling garbage soup started to stick to her like glue.

Outside, Pinkie Pie grabbed Twilight by the shoulders, shaking in place, looking like she was on the verge of spontaneously combusting.

“The tickets to the most amazing incredible tremendous super-fun wonderful terrifically humongous party in all of Equestria!?!” The pink mare screamed right into Twilight's face.

The green filly carefully hopped out and started backpedaling away. Silently praying she won't be noticed by the pink devil. She went around the corner, expecting that at any moment the party mare would appear to scare the life out of her.

But something worse happened.

“Oh the Grand Galloping Gala is the best place for me!”

Pinkie started singing.

To the jumper's growing bewilderment, this wasn't a heartsong - there wasn't any mysterious force compelling her to join the musical number. Pinkie Pie was singing just because. No magic assistance needed.

Worst part: it was kinda catchy.

Still, better to keep some distance in case it did become a heartsong. The jumper had foolishly forgotten her ear plugs and becoming a backup singer against her will wasn’t how she wished to spend the morning.

Anon took in her surroundings. She had found herself in an alleyway, one she actually recognized from one of her previous chases with the Pink One. There were some good hiding spots, and an unlocked back door to a strange shop selling sofas and writing implements. A good escape route in case she would need one.

The jumper felt a tingle run down her spine: She’d been spotted.

“Ehm, hi?”

Oh, it's Spike.

The young drake held a claw over his mouth, snickering and pointing at the crow's nest that was Anon's hairdo.

“You have something in your mane," he wheezed, barely holding in full-on laughter.

Anon found something partially sticking to her horn and mane - a banana peel, because the universe has a terrible sense of humor.

"Thanks…" the jumper trailed off, trying to come up with a sufficient way to say: ‘Sorry for putting holes in your home, I swear it was in self defense’. "And…eh…sorry for the mess I left behind in the library."

It wasn't enough that she inadvertently put even more people into danger, no, she also had to break their stuff.

Spike shrugged. "Eh, it happens. I'm pretty sure Twilight alone made some repair pony’s livelihood back in Canterlot."

As if on cue, there was the sound of air being displaced by the body of a purple unicorn. Twilight landed running, the few sparks left from her teleportation shimmering in the air.

“I can't believe it!” The purple unicorn exclaimed, holding the two accursed pieces of glimmering gold paper. “What am I supposed to do?! These tickets-”

The mare suddenly paled, noticing the green filly staring at her blankly. She slowly put the tickets behind her back in an act that was about as inconspicuous as a clown attending a funeral.

“I mean, tickets? What tickets? There are no tickets,” said Twilight, giving a painfully wide and obviously false smile.

Anon knew what the Grand Galloping Gala was. During the week she shared with Daybreaker, their conversation had turned to it quite a few times. It was on the list of things to avoid.

At the very top.

In big bold letters.

Underlined four times.

“Of course there are no tickets here. Why would there be tickets?” asked Anon, her voice sounding almost sincere.

Twilight relaxed, looking about to see if she wasn't followed, before she froze for a moment, confused.

“Spike, why is there a filly covered in garbage alone in an alleyway?” She paused, finally looking around her. “Why are we in an alleyway?”

“Spring!”

Bon Bon rushed into the allaway, picking up the filly still partially coated in the contents of a garbage can.

“You have to stop doing this.” The agent's eyes softened a little at the sight of the little green filly avoiding her gaze. “You just can't run off everytime we go somewhere.”

Twilight's eye twitched.

The agent felt her heart skip. She should have anticipated this - it was only a matter of time, really. There was a good reason why even the best agents had to use a fake name similar or at least connect to their real ones.

True Names have shape. One that's visible to some.

Nopony can say when the tradition started - or if it was even a tradition, and not just a part of the magical nature of the world - but when the time comes to name a newborn, the name was already there. Palpable and so clear at the moment - a short glimpse at something beyond, stitched with golden thread into reality.

Most ponies don't know why or how, not caring of the magical miracle happening - so mundane it had become.

True Names cannot be spoken, words can only describe them to some measure. And that's exactly what a pony's name is. A word description of their True Name, seen and understood for but a fleeting second.

At least that's how it is for most. Magic has a weird tendency to reveal things. And Twilight Sparkle was one very magical pony.

It happens from time to time. Magically gifted individuals, able to see the shape of a True Name, or at least sense it to an extent.

Now, what happens when the name, the description, doesn't fit the shape, the True Name?

Or worse.

What if it was missing?

But luckily for them, Twilight's staring was interrupted by a sound akin to a chainsaw attacking some poor, defenseless trees as the purple unicorn's stomach roared.

Yet still, even though she and Spike walked away in their search for an answer to the ticket dilemma - and more importantly, lunch - she couldn't shake a feeling of profound wrongness about the green filly. One she couldn't quite place.

One that she should investigate further.

Bon Bon lifted the unprotesting and absolutely filthy filly by the scruff of her neck. A slight mistake on her part as she got the vile taste of spoiled cabbage on her tongue

It was off-putting - the filly’s behavior, not the cabbage. The agent wasn't sure if she should be happy that Anon wasn’t voicing a loud objection to being picked up or worried that the filly didn't muster enough effort to do even that.

“Sorry,” muttered Anon weakly for nothing in particular. Bon Bon muffled something back.

“What?” Asked the jumper, not being able to understand a word of what Bon Bon was saying due to the fact that the poor mare had a mouth full of her fur.

The candymaker placed her gently on the ground, then started to cough and spit stray hairs.

“Blergh, you’re definitely getting a bath.” She smiled at the filly, but her attempts at humor seemed to fail at cheering Anon even a little.

Sweetie Drops sighed. The streets were empty once again: ponies were getting in before the rain that was yet to start. The agent felt a little cheated at this, somehow. If she had to have this kind of conversation, the least she could get was some ambiance.

It would also help with washing away the smell of rotting carrots…

“I… I get it. The need to get away.” Sweetie Drops spoke slowly. The fully perked up a little, just the ears, moving from front to back. It seemed that the jumper had a hard time controlling them. “The urge to hide, to run.”

The jumper hid her face, still stoic. Dissociation, the agent knew that trick well. Disconnecting from life, ignoring reality? That's easy. The problem is that reality doesn't ignore us back.

Sweetie Drops could almost taste the irony. That she, of all ponies, was put into this situation. Having to explain to a filly why she cannot just run away from her caretakers all the time. Except back then, she was on the opposite side of the fence.

It almost hurts, the agent pondered. Just how much she reminds me of myself back then.

“Nothing is safe. Nothing is… yours.” Sweetie Drops said gently. “Home doesn't feel like home. You go there, and you feel like a thief.”

Pure survival thinking was hard to break. Switching parts of oneself off so they don’t get in the way is one thing, turning them back on was another. The agent could almost see it - she had lived through it too. Survival is an affair of simplicity. Harsh, cruel simplicity, but simplicity nonetheless. It never ceased to amaze, the sort of things one can withstand. The sort of sheer stubbornness that spits on probability and fate alike.

One has to have hope, of course. To push them forward. Hope is a survival need, like air or water. There is no surviving without hope. But one needs very little of it to keep going.

And it can sometimes come from the strangest of sources.

Sweetie Drops got on her haunches, low, eye to eye with Anon.

"I fought Nightmare Moon over you,” she said. “I'm not going anywhere."

Hope. She had it in Spring. Back then, when everypony thought of her as a lost cause. When she herself was a small filly who stopped believing in tomorrows. All it took was one pony to never give up on her.

Anon was going to be alright, she had two of those.

"So next time, please run to me and not into a garbage can,” Bon Bon said, playfulness slipping into her voice. “Not only am I safer, but I also smell much better."

As Sweetie sat back, Anon didn't react visibly except for her ears twitching, moving back and forth. Normally, the agent did not have much problem reading ponies and Anon wasn’t much different. Easier than most, actually. The jumper may have had walking and basic magic down, but even when she tried to keep a blank poker face, she always forgot all the other little tells. Hooves and tail especially.

The jumper was divided, arguing with herself. There was some anger there too, buried deep. Anger and fear. But it was all better than the wet mop she was in the morning, the agent decided. Feeling anything is always better than numbness.

“Ehm, that's nice and all,” the jumper said.

“But where’s Lyra?"

It was still morning and Lyra already felt tired.

She had a more noticeable limp, her coat was all roughened up and dusty and a few strands of her mane had gone wild. Both Spring and Bon Bon had vanished in the distraction Pinkie and her song caused, while ponies started to go into the streets just to watch the spectacle.

She had lost them, again. So she had to try and find them, again.

Well, it could be worse, Lyra thought...

And then it was.

"Hello!”

In front of Lyra was the sheer embodiment of a very specific kind of government worker. Not the kind that have you running around to get six different permits, two of which don't exist anymore and the last one is only available at the seventh ring of hell, obsessed with paperwork and thinking that smiling is a sign of some horrible, contagious disease.

No. This one practically screamed ‘social worker’ or maybe a teacher. The mane in a bun, the way she held a clipboard and smiled pleasantly. Lyra halfway expected her to try to sign her up for counseling right then and there.

“You must be Lyra Heartstrings.”

To call the emotion Lyra felt after spotting the light pink pegasus ‘panic’ would only be partially accurate.

Panic is supposed to be sudden, not instantaneous.

"Ah," Lyra's left eye started to twitch, her jaw tightened and all the muscles around her neck bulged as she fought the insatiable urge to scream. "That's me, isn't it?"

Sunny smiled. It was an all-around pleasant, cheery smile that perfectly fit the mare.

Lyra started to sweat.

What was worse was the nagging feeling that she should have known this mare. Lyra went over the memories in her head. She knew her from somewhere. Had they met before? Had she heard about her?

What in the blazes made her so familiar?

“Sunny?!”

Relief washed over Lyra. They were there, both of them. Safe and sound and just in time to-

Lyra turned to face Bon Bon and nearly fainted.

Spring wasn’t green anymore. Well, there was some green there, but not the original green of the filly’s fur. And the other small bits coating the filly, well, she would rather not think about them, but their color was a mix of brown to the shade of dark purple. Colors most don't associate with life, but are the coloration of the most stubborn of lifeforms, able to grow in any forgotten piece of dinner at the very back of your fridge.

Nightmare scenario after nightmare scenario played in Lyras mind. This was it, she failed Spring and did so spectacularly. There was no chance in Tartarus they weren't going to take her away now.

And then Bon Bon smiled.

Lyra noticed something: Spring was…relaxed.

The filly, intentionally or not, always stood a few inches further from anypony than normal. A small, invisible bubble of space around her at all times.

Except now. The filly was standing close to Bon Bons front leg. Not fretting, not being super aware. Just… standing there.

Her further thoughts were derailed by something else.

Bon Bon rushed forward, pulling the light pink pegasus into a tight hug, staying there for a few seconds before pulling away. The pink pegasus’ expression changed, from the more polite, common smile worn in public like a piece of clothing, to somehow more warm and genuine.

And finally, it clicked for Lyra, just from where she had heard about this ‘Sunny’

The still brightly smiling Bon Bon grabbed her marefriend, taking her closer to Sunny.

"Honey, Spring, this is Sunny Skies,” Bon Bon said, excitement clear in her voice.

"My adoptive mom."

Author's Note

Hello!

Here is another chapter, have at thee! And sorry for the wait, but it kinda couldn't be helped. Well, good luck out there and thanks for all the support.

(Also, did anybody notice little Sweetie Drops in the photo in the last chapter? Just curious.)