Author's Note

What's this? A wild chapter appears!

Take this as more of a canon omake than anything, really. It's just a goofy chapter that I threw together for the hell of it. I wasn't going to do a chapter for the talent show, but I figured, "Eh, why not?"

Three things:

1. A chapter will be coming out as normal on Monday
2. No, I am not going to resume the Monday/Thursday schedule; this is almost certainly a one-off.
3. I spent far less time on this chapter than normal and I'm not going to dump a lot of time into going through it repeatedly with a fine-tooth comb like I usually do. That said, I don't see any blatant typos, but I'm sure at least a couple snuck in there.

That said, enjoy!

Chapter 71: Talent Show

Monday, May 25th, 909 AB (the next day)
Afternoon

“You look better with wings.”

Wide-eyed, Dawn shouts in a scolding tone. “Sapphire Sprint!”

“What?” she innocently asks. “He does.”

The orange filly looks meaningfully around the small herd and aims her glare back at their friend. The group is sat to the side with all of the other students, but as usual they have situated themselves in a small pile separate from everypony else. Coast watches on from her spot on Heavy’s withers, as Sapphire does on her sister’s and Dawn does on top of Cure. Rising, too busy fretting over her instrument, is sitting off to the side by the props they brought for their acts.

The parents, as well as a few curious members of the public, are all out in front of the slightly elevated platform they’re all using; one of a few fold-out temporary stages that all of the schools take turns using when the need arises. The talent show is taking place outside of the schoolhouse on the side of the east side of the south facing building.

“Nopony’s close enough to hear anyhow,” the aqua filly dismisses. With an exaggerated eye roll she asks, “Or is it ‘cause I didn’t say I like his horn better?”

Cure has to hold in a snort at that statement. It’s difficult, many times, being surrounded by mostly innocent foals with the memories of a very perverted middle-aged man. When such a blatant setup is tossed out there for anypony he has a very hard time not just replying on autopilot.

“Saph, quit it,” Ferric gently chides.

“What? Have you ever seen a horn and thought, ‘That right there,” she points a hoof at an imaginary horned pony, “That is a pretty horn.’” She raises a single brow in challenge, though most of the effect is obscured by the star-spangled and very unique hat she is wearing. Cure had suggested an ensemble from his memories and the excitable filly was delighted with the idea. “No? My point stands,” she finishes haughtily.

“Mmm… I would say that the horn, as a feature of the pony, can be pretty,” Cure argues. “Maybe not the horn itself, though.” He glances back at the frowny unicorn and explains, “Substitute ‘snout’ for horn, babe. Both are just parts. Neither, by itself, is singularity ‘pretty’ but, just like a painting, all the parts come together to form something beautiful.”

The unicorn beams, leaning down to nuzzle his cheek.

Heavy meets the colt’s eyes and gives a small, approving nod while mouthing “Nice save.”

He happily leans into the nuzzle and adds, “I will say that the friggin things are damned inconvenient sometimes. At least, havin it jutting out of your melon is.”

“Inconvenient?” Dawn asks as she sits back upright.

“I almost never sleep with mine out anymore,” he clarifies. “Kept getting it caught in my pillowcase or on sheets. It’s also in the way during snuggle time. I keep mine dull enough not to do much other than poke somepony, but it’s still annoying. I can’t imagine how much it would suck if mine was as sensitive as a normal unicorn’s all the time. You probably don’t notice since you’ve never not had one.”

“I thought that was only when you’re casting?” Coast inquires while looking at Dawn.

“It’s still sensitive, even when not,” she answers.

“It’s full of nerves. And muscles, of course,” Cure explains, “but nerves are the main culprit, obviously. Even if the outside is coated in tough keratin like a hoof, just like how you can tell when you’ve stepped on a single rock,” he says, rolling his hoof leadingly.

“Oh. Then why is it so much worse when you’re using magic?”

“The hit causes incorrect vibrations and destabilizes the spell. The feedback from the miscast zaps the nerves on top of whatever pain there is from the physical blow,” he answers. “It’s like…” he glances around, looking for an example. Zeroing in on Rising he continues, “imagine RP was playin her sax and all’a the sudden it somehow got clogged or whatever. Dunno how exactly that would happen -”

“It shouldn’t,” Rising interrupts. “Not unless you’re using it a lot and not taking care of it at all, but even then…”

“Okay, fair enough. Well, pretend something in the mouthpiece blocks it off unexpectedly while she’s playing it. That’s not a problem with lungs, but horns are, again, full of nerves and a hit transmits right through the keratin. Her playing gets interrupted, which isn’t usually a big problem with music, but the horn hits the wrong note, sometimes catastrophically, and there ya have it. It’s like a lightning bolt right to a big cluster of nerves on the noggin.”

“Huh. That’s kinda interesting,” Coast mumbles in thought.

“He fixed ours. Mine and Solar’s. Better muscles, less sensitive pain receptors, tougher exterior. I haven’t had a hornache in almost a year and we can much more easily power through to finish a spell. Also, we cast way faster, so there's less chance of a hit landing right then.” The filly wraps her forelegs around his neck and squeezes him tight. “I can’t begin to tell you how awful a miscast can be!”

“Ours are even better than mine was right after you know what,” he agrees, nodding absently while watching the filly on the stage finish up her song. “Way less pain and nigh uninterruptible casting.”

Ferric looks at Dawn and mumbles, “We’re up next,” in an anxious tone.

The aqua filly learns down and nuzzles into her sister’s mane. “You’ll do great, sissy! Don’t worry!”

“Yeah, Red, you’ll nail it, I’m sure,” Cure encourages, snickering at the horrible pun. A round of disappointed sighs escapes the group, save Sapphire who giggles from atop her sister’s withers.

“I swear, dude, your jokes are worse than my sire’s.”

“Nothin’s wrong with third place, bro.”

“Third… place?”

“Yeah, ya know… since he is Silver after all,” he says with a big grin, then reaches over and gives Sapphire a high hoof.

“Thank the maker he’s not doing a comedy skit,” Coast absently mumbles.

“Our act will be hilarious!” Sapphire defends, scowling at the cerulean grump. “Way better than yours,” she huffs, turning away.

Coast levels a flat stare at the filly and growls, “Only ‘cause I didn’t sign up!”

Sapphire crosses her forehooves and gives an exaggerated nod, declaring, “Exactly!”

Conversation stops as Miss Apple takes the stage, thanks the filly up there and gives her some words of encouragement. “Alright, everypony! Up next with a demonstration of her skills with a hammer, Ferric Shine and her assistant, Dawn Glow!”

The girl nudges her sister off of her withers, picks up her two mallets, and makes her way up to the stairs on their side of the stage. Dawn hops off of Cure, lifts the props they came up with, and follows her up while the other foals and parents cheer her on. The dark filly approaches their teacher and passes her the mallets, showing her they’re wood instead of metal. Dawn trots to the far side of the stage and sets the bucket down.

“Just be careful, dear. Don’t let one slip out of your grip, okay?”

“I know, Miss Apple. They won’t.”

Dawn levitates out a round piece of cork Cure had made for the show and presents it to Miss Apple. The white mare looks at it for a moment then nods in approval, vacating the stage to get out of the way.

“Ready?” Dawn calls.

The shy filly faces her and gives a single nod.

Dawn promptly tosses the cork at the girl in a lazy arc right at her. Ferric stays still until just before the cork gets in range, then strikes out with speed and precision, batting it away with ease. Stomps and cheers ring out from the audience as Dawn picks up two pieces, launching them one right after the other, both of which are swatted away almost lazily.

The unicorn filly begins firing more and more balls at Ferric, launching two, three, or four at a time, only a rare ball succeeding at getting past her or managing to hit her. Finally, Dawn reaches in the bucket and grabs a few with her hoof, continuously launching them with her horn while making them arc and zigzag in midair and throwing them at the same time.

To the wild cheers of everypony, Ferric begins masterfully twirling the hammers around in her hooves, smacking corks left and right. The front few rows of the audience catch a few ricochets, ignoring them as they watch in awe. Some of the younger foals start running around collecting them, throwing them back up at the young padawan while shouting in glee.

“I have to go after that?!” Rising wails in a panic, a look of horror on her face.

“It’s a completely different act, though,” Cure says, reassuring the girl. “I’m pretty confident nopony will be throwin stuff at ya, RP.”

“It would probably be even more interesting if we did, though!” Sapphire suggests. The scowl sent her way is aptly interpreted as a no.

“Round two, Ferric!” Dawn shouts, having gone through most of the bucket.

She starts shooting them slower again, watching as the muscular earth pony, instead of slapping the corks away, begins knocking them back instead, landing a few back in the bucket only to be fired right back.

The crowd waits, watching with rapt attention as, finally out of pieces of cork, Dawn kicks the bucket right at her friend. Her right hoof swings down, smacking the bucket, opening down, directly into the stage. The left hoof follows, both mallets stacked on their heads as the filly throws her hooves in the air and takes a bow, bathing in the cheers and stomps from the crowd.

“Saph, your sister is freakin scary,” Heavy quietly observes. The other foals can only nod in mute agreement at the amazing display.

“Mmhmm! She’s the best! She’s been practicing since we got back.”

“That’s like… only three weeks ago,” Coast notes.

“Yup!”

Cure cringes at the implications. “I think I’ve said it before, but Sergeant Song has wingblades on her cutie mark. Under no circumstances is anypony to piss her off.” Another round of nods goes around the group as Ferric and Dawn make their way off the stage.

“One last round for Ferric Shine and Dawn Glow, everypony!” Miss Apple calls. Cure distinctly hears cheering shouts from Solar and a loud whistle from Starlight somewhere out in the crowd.

Rising sits on her haunches, her saxophone on a strap against her belly. Cure can tell she’s panicking, so he sits up and wraps her in a hug from the side. “Hey, don’t worry, RP. You’ll do great, just like yesterday. Just remember what I showed you; focus on the magic, feel it, and just… let it out. Out your lips into the saxophone, that is. Not… ya know… somewhere else,” he vaguely adds. “While that particular wind instrument might get a few laughs I don’t think that’s what you’re going for.”

She turns to look at him, scowling at his crass humor. He smiles broadly at the girl and gives her a gentle push towards the stage. “See? Not nervous anymore, are ya? Go on,” he says, shooing her away, “you’ll do great.”

The filly gives a firm nod, takes a deep breath, rotates the sax onto her back, and makes her way up to the stage. She gives Ferric and Dawn each a hoofbump on the way and compliments their performance.

“Woo! Go Sissy! Good job!” Sapphire eagerly cheers, leaping up to hug the bigger filly as the pair return. Ferric blushes at the attention and adulation from the group, but accepts it with a smile.

Up on the stage Miss Apple waves the yellow filly up and over to where she’s standing. Seeing her obvious discomfort, she pulls her against her haunch as she tells the crowd, “Rising Pitch, everypony! She started playing the saxophone back in… January?” she asks as she leans down to be closer to the filly.

“Mmhmm. Just after my ninth birthday,” Rising quietly answers.

Miss Apple sits back up straight and repeats, “Just after she turned nine in January! This will be her first public performance, everypony, so give her a big, encouraging round of applause!” As the crowd stomps and claps their hooves, her teacher leans down and quietly reassures her, giving her one last sideways squeeze hug before stepping back out of the way.

Rising takes a deep breath, sits on her rear, rotates the sax around her torso, brings the instrument to her lips, and plays. The music fills the air and, on reflex, Cure feels himself rocking slowly side to side, humming along with the melody. Midway through, he finds that he simply can’t help himself; he begins singing aloud, though quietly, with the tune.

“The colors of the rainbow,
so pretty in the sky.
Are also on the faces
of the ponies going by -”

“Dude?” Heavy calls, shaking him lightly from the side.

“Huh? What?” Cure asks, snapping out of it and looking around in confusion. Dawn is right in front of him, a worried look on her face. He exhales a sigh of relief, glad to see he wasn’t loud enough to draw anypony else’s attention.

“Are you okay?” Coast asks, as much in confusion as in concern.

“What the hay happened?!” he asks through clenched teeth.

“You just… started singing,” Dawn explains. “Have you heard this before?”

He leans his head back and lets out a deep sigh, calming before he answers, “Yeah, she heard me humming it on our trip. Said she wanted to play it for the show. You’ve never heard it before?”

“Only when she was practicing it,” Coast answers. “I didn’t know it was a song too. I figured it was something she got… well, I guess she did get it on our trip, but I meant when she got her mark at the opera house.”

Sapphire excitedly cheers, “You were really good though! You should’a gone up there with her!”

Cure cringes at the idea, already none too thrilled with the fact he apparently got absorbed into the magic of the music. “Eh, maybe some other time,” he halfheartedly suggests.

“I think she’s almost done,” Heavy points out, refocusing the group on her short performance. Sure enough, only a few seconds later the music comes to an end and, to nopony’s surprise, cheers and stomps ring out from the crowd as Miss Apple skips over to sit beside the filly and pulls her against her side in another hug. The comely teacher nudges the girl a little and whispers something to her, prompting Rising to rotate the sax onto her back and take a bow before nearly skipping off the stage.

Heavy and Cure watch in amusement as the fillies all pile over her upon her triumphant return. With a nudge and a jerk of his head, the latter gets up and joins in the hug, the gray colt following suit only a moment later.

With only Cure and Sapphire yet to perform from their group, they all sit down and watch the next act while Rising puts her sax back in the case. Dawn goes over to help, casting Cleaning on the unit a few times to remove any spit buildup while Rising removes a few of the parts and wipes them down with a clean cloth. Cure assumes she’s getting the moisture out of the unit, but without any experience or memories of ever playing an instrument, he can only guess.

The filly on the stage is doing some kind of speed painting act and, from the looks of it, isn’t half bad. The image of the schoolhouse from the outside is quickly taking shape, even if it is a little on the abstract side of the scale.

He finds his attention going back to his friend, quietly thinking to himself about learning an instrument at some point. Edward always wanted to learn the piano, but never had the drive needed to take the time. Cure doesn’t think he’s much better in that department, but with his massive advantages the time required to gain proficiency is far, far less. It makes him wonder how a pony could even play one; presumably it would take a level of skill with the TK field that few practice enough to achieve.

Done cleaning her instrument, Rising thanks Dawn for the help, then leans over and gives the girl a grateful nuzzle. She puts everything back in the case and clasps it shut, then turns and sees Cure watching the pair with a placid smile on his face. Realizing he’s caught, instead of quickly glancing away like many young colts would, he instead smiles even more broadly at them and beckons them over with a tilt of his head.

Rising feels her cheeks burn as she rushes over to sit behind and to his left, resting her forelegs over his croup. She gives Dawn a look and tilts her head at the colt’s withers. The unicorn rolls her eyes, but, just like the day before, she takes her reserved spot on his withers. Cure leans his head back, resting his brow under her chin, smirking when, out of the corner of his eye, he catches her tail lazily swishing back and forth in contentment.

They sit and watch a few more acts until, finally, it’s their turn. As soon as Miss Apple calls them up, Sapphire whips her cape around her withers to land in her back and latches it on the front. She pronks up the stairs, onto the stage, dashes for the center in front of the teacher, and shouts, “Make way, make way for the Great and Powerful HOOFDINI!” as she throws her hooves in the air.

A loud throat clear behind her has her barely turn her head to look back at the straight-faced colt. “And her humble assistant, Mortimer,” she adds with exactly zero excitement.

“Charmed,” he greets in a flat tone.

“Prepare yourselves, one and all, for the most amazing display of magic you’ve ever seen! I know what you’re all thinking,” she lifts her hat, showing the crowd a very poorly made paper horn taped to her head before yanking it off and tossing it carelessly behind herself. “‘How can an earth pony do magic?’ The truth is that earth ponies are just as magical as unicorns,” she holds her hoof up to her muzzle and stage whispers, “They just don’t want you to know, so shh!

“Some of these tricks are very complex, though, I assure you! So ladies and gentlestallions, do not attempt any of these at home! The skills you are about to witness are the result of decades of experience and countless replacement assistants. Casting these spells when unprepared may cause you to accidentally, FLOAT AWAY!” she shouts, pointing both forehooves at the colt.

“Must we really, madam?” he asks with a put upon sigh as he begins slowly lifting off. Just like he’d explained to the princess, he’s holding a layer of lighter air all around himself while reducing his own weight. Without wings it’s nearly impossible to control flight direction, but it’s not a problem for simple up and down in an area with little wind.

As Cure floats up, Sapphire pulls a small length of rope out of her cloak and ties it around his hoof. “I am not a foal’s toy, madam,” he stiffly complains.

“Quiet, Morton! You’re ruining my fun!”

The crowd cheers and stomps as she drags him around the stage like a balloon. After a quick back and forth he complains, “I believe my lunch is floating up, madam… might I be let back down?”

Sighing dramatically, she releases the rope, points her hooves, and shouts “DOWN, BOY!” at the colt. His eyes go wide for a moment before he releases the air that’s holding him afloat and loudly crashes to the stage. At his groan she gently kicks him in the side. “Back on your hooves, Mort-Mort! We’re just getting started!” A few parents in the audience are slightly concerned, but she quickly assures them, “Don’t worry, he’s fine!”

“Yes, madam,” he weakly calls, staggering as he stands back up. He smiles and winks at the audience to reassure them that he’s okay, then tosses the length of rope off the stage.

“This next trick is in honor of her majesty!” Sapphire shouts. “I’m sure everypony’s wondered, ‘How did she get to be so tall?’ You may think it's just 'cause she's an alicorn, but that's not it! The Great and Powerful Hoofdini has discovered her secret! Foreleg!” she demands, poking him in the side.

Snout wrinkled in distaste, he huffs and slowly lifts his leg for her. She whips off her cape, wrapping it around his leg so his hoof is visible, then grabs the appendage with both forehooves and begins pretending to pull with all her might. Nothing happens for a moment until, slowly, the leg begins extending out. Murmurs of wonder can be heard from the crowd with some of the parents looking a little queasy. “This feels quite odd, madam,” Cure faux complains.

“Quiet, Morgan! We’re almost there!” She pulls his leg out nearly a meter before finally stopping, wiping a nonexistent bead of sweat off her brow, and nodding in approval. “There we go, everypony! The princess’s secret revealed!” she shouts, pulling off her cape. Gasps and shouts erupt from the crowd at the stretch of pure white foreleg that’s exposed, contrasting harshly against his otherwise blue coat.

Wide-eyed, the colt stares at the leg for a second, moving it up and down and bending it at the elbow. “I suspect you used the wrong setting, madam,” he urgently suggests.

“Nah,” she replies, waving dismissively. “It’s only got one setting. You should see what happens when we use it on your -”

“MADAM!” Cure scolds, taking a half step away. The distinct sound of a facehoof is heard behind him where Miss Apple is standing.

“- mane… what?” she finishes.

“Oh,” he mumbles, visibly calming. Regaining his stoic visage, he ducks his head in a shallow bow. “Apologies, madam.”

“Think nothing of it, Morty-poo,” she graciously allows. “So… do the others or…?” she asks leadingly.

“I humbly request you undo it, madam.”

“Fiiine!” she calls, wrapping her cape back around his leg. Rather than push the hoof in she grabs his ear and starts working it up and down like a lever, swiftly cranking the appendage overtop his protests. “Just a second, Mortilicious! We’re almost there!”

She stops when he whispers “Now” and unwraps his shorter, still white leg. “Eh… It’ll go back to normal in a day or two,” she dismisses. Rolling her eyes at his scowl, she re-wraps it, claps her hooves, and pulls the cape away from his now blue leg. “Happy now?” she snidely asks.

“A thousand thanks, madam.”

“You bet, Mortypie!” she shouts, gently patting his cheek. “Now my next trick’s a classic!” she calls, taking off her hat and showing the inside to the crowd. “Go ahead, Mori, reach on in there and pull Mr. Fluffybuns out!”

Cure looks warily at the hat, then meets her eyes, then glances back and forth a few more times. His ears sag as he sits on his haunches and reaches into the hat, digging around for several seconds. “Are you sure you have the correct hat, madam?” he asks with furrowed brows.

She shrugs and responds, “I dunno, probably,” just before he stills. Cure slowly pulls his hoof back out of the hat, bringing along a snarling, thrashing opossum. “Whoops! Guess not!” she shouts as he crams the opossum back into the hat, then snatches it out of her hooves and slams it, opening down, onto the stage, trapping the critter inside. He makes a few small holes and holds the hat down long enough for him to reabsorb the biomatter into his forelegs, then slowly lifts it up to reveal nothing underneath.

Sapphire takes the hat, showing the empty interior to the crowd. A round of stomps and cheers ring out as she tosses the hat back on her head and pats him on his withers. “Good thinkin, Mort! I knew I hired ya for a reason!”

“Your praise sustains me, madam,” he stoically responds.

“You have time for one more trick,” Miss Apple gently calls from behind them.

Cure doesn’t react, but Sapphire looks over and gives the mare a nod. “For my final trick of the day, I present to you, The Box of Mysteries!” she calls, then stares at Cure. When nopony moves he glances her direction, raises a brow, and points a hoof at his chest. “Yes, dummy! Go!” she shouts, waving him off the stage.

He runs over to the side and quickly returns carrying a body-sized box on his back along with two plain wooden slats. Question marks and glittery stars decorate the unit; another product of Cure’s plants and his Transmutation abilities.

The box itself is just thin wood, as are the traditionally metal pieces like the hinges and clasps on the two halves. For the glitter he simply used the same zirconia powder he added to his skeletal system and embedded it directly into the wood to create a flat, smooth, but sparkly surface.

Six holes are cut in it. The base of the box has four for his legs. A larger hole is on one end and a smaller, U-shaped hole is cut at the top of the back end for his tail. The box is short and narrow enough that it barely contains his barrel.

He sets the slats and box on the stage and stands it on its end, then undoes the latches holding the lid shut and flips it open. Just to show that other than the holes the unit is solid, he waves their teacher over and reaches inside, showing there’s no hidden compartments or anything. Miss Apple inspects it, gives the crowd a nod, and takes a few steps back to watch while Cure climbs in.

He pokes his head out the front and slides his legs through their holes, then stands while keeping the bottom held against his belly. At his whispered instructions the teacher latches the lid shut, trapping his barrel inside before stepping back again.

While Cure and Miss Apple make a show of him getting ready, Sapphire stands to the side to address the audience. “While my assistant gets himself situated, let me quickly reassure everypony that this is perfectly safe! However, I must emphasize again, DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!” She pauses a moment to look around the audience and calls out, “Everypony understand?”

At the murmured agreements, she turns and walks around the box to stand behind Cure, opposite the audience and just ahead and to the left of their teacher. She once again unclasps her cloak and spreads it over the box, covering the side facing the audience and the top.

“MANNULUS DIFFINDO!” she shouts as she slides two panels into the middle from the back. She whips her cape back around her neck and clasps it back in place. “Turn for the crowd Morticia!”

Gasps and somewhat hesitant applause can be heard from the crowd as Cure’s two halves both rotate separately, balancing independently on his fore and hind legs with his tail and face both towards the crowd. The tail swishes once, slapping him in his incredibly unamused face.

“Do you mind?” he drolly asks.

The pair had practiced this the day before; so long as his bottom half stays within a couple meters, he can still simulate nerve signals directly with his talent. The secondary cardiopulmonary system with the insect adaptations are enough to keep everything healthy for hours as long as he isn’t doing anything too wild.

The hardest part is moving organs around internally enough for there to be roughly a single spot in the middle where Cure could split himself. A significant portion of the length of a pony’s barrel is taken up by the lungs and the digestive tract, so moving parts forwards and backwards in a way that worked was quite challenging.

Secondary to that, balancing each half independently is somewhat of a challenge. The difficulty of doing so without a hardline connection is why hind leg movement will be minimized during this trick.

Deviating from the script, Sapphire reaches over and pushes his back half. Unable to compensate, it tips over and lands on its side, kicking futily in the air. “Madam is so abusive,” he says in a plaintive tone. The crowd watches in mute wonder and horror as his hind legs struggle to kick hard enough to roll the box back over to stand. “Do you require assistance?” he asks. “One stomp for yes, two for no.”

Laid on its side, the hind half taps a single hoof on the stage once. “Very well,” he sighs, walking over only on his forelegs. He leans down, bracing his brow against the top of the box, opposite his hooves. “Kindly push with your right hoof,” he commands. A single tap sounds again, then the hoof pushes against the stage as he provides a brace, lifting with his neck at the same time.

“Don’t worry, everypony. He’ll get there sooner or later,” Sapphire announces in a bored tone.

It only takes a moment for his hind legs to get high enough to stand back upright. “Don’t move, please,” he requests. Once again a single stomp answers him. Nodding in acceptance, he turns and positions himself so the boxes are aligned. “If it pleases madam?” he stoically intones.

“I suppose,” she grumbles as she approaches the joined halves. “Celestia knows I ain’t helping ya potty.”

“Madam is too kind.”

“Indeed,” she immediately agrees. Once again wrapping her cape around the box while he’s still standing, she calls out “MANNULUS REPARO!” and pulls the slats back out. With her cape back around her neck she flips the latches open. The weight of the box causes the lid to fly open and fall to the stage, leaving behind the whole and undamaged colt behind.

Hat in her right hoof, Sapphire throws both forelegs in the air with a loud, “TA DAAA!” Though most of the ponies give thunderous stomps of approval and shouted cheers, Cure notices that his friends’ parents are far more subdued. Emerald looks decidedly more green than her usual blue while Haze sits wide-eyed, mouth agape simply staring. At least Solar enjoyed the act; he’s cracking up and clapping loudly even if his marefriend is a little more reserved.

He’s beginning to suspect that the ponies that are more familiar with the details surrounding his capabilities are, for whatever reason, less excited about the performance. At least his family seems to have enjoyed it. Lemon couldn’t close the shop, but his sire, Amethyst, Title, Cherry, and Lotus are all clapping loudly. His dam is too, but her smile seems a tad more forced than he expected.

Oh well, I guess magic shows aren’t for everypony, he admits to himself.