The Price of a Dream

Chapters

Essence of a Dream
Making Daddy Proud
The Locket
For Mommy
A Painted World
Appreciating The Other Side
A Simple Model
Held Together By Misery
Voices
Confessions
Our Separate Ways
To Equestria
Like a Stone
Rendezvous
Supply and Demand
All I Want is a Friend
Party Rock Anthem
Stalking an Idol
Perchance
A Terrible Mistake
The Last Mug of Cider
Pinkie Pie for Mayor!
Step Aside
Rainfall in Providence
Pancakes and Apples
Thirty Dollars
Poachers
Sacrifice
Restoration
A Sister's Pride
Yearning for Something More
What If Rainbow Wasn't Fast Enough?
One Last Try
Hearth's Warming Cards
Eventually
A Deal to Last a Lifetime
If Only I Could...
The Flight

Essence of a Dream

Why... why can’t I move my legs?

Twilight’s eyes fluttered open as she took in her surroundings. From what she could tell, she was in Sugarcube Corner. Decorations littered the floors such as hanging balloons and streamers. In the corner, the Cakes were playing Peekaboo with their foals. In the center was a room was a table. Her five friends were there. As Pinkie Pie balanced a plate of cupcakes on her back, she hopped across the room. Her friends looked like they were laughing but Twilight couldn’t hear anything. She tried to move, but her legs were surrounded by a blue aura, binding them like a boa constrictor.

“Pinkie? Rainbow Dash! Rarity! Fluttershy! Applejack! Help!” They continued on, completely oblivious to her.

“Talk all you like. They can’t hear you,” said a voice besides her, which came from a blue pegasus with a white mane.

“Who are you?” Twilight asked, grunting as she struggled to free herself from the unknown magical presence.

“Oh, nopony of importance. But you can call me ‘Doctor Weaver.’” He drifted in front of her. “What’s wrong? Not comfortable? Let me help with that.”

With a clop of his hooves, the blue bindings disappeared and Twilight fell forward.

“Oompf,” she uttered. As she stood up, she brushed herself off. She moved towards her friend and tried to grab Rainbow Dash—the closest one—but her hooves went straight through her. “What the?!”

“Sorry to tell you this, but they’re not real.”

“I don’t understand.” Twilight stumbled backwards.

Doctor Weaver placed a hoof on his chin. “Hmm... let me spell it out for you. You’re in a dream. Apparently, you fell asleep. Here, watch this.” He clopped his hooves again and the color drained from the world.

As Twilight watched, the colors shifted from vibrant pastel colors into a monochromatic look. She looked around, but the others carried on as if nothing had happened.

“If this is a dream, then I think it’s time to wake up.” Twilight pulled back her hoof and poked herself in the eye. Instantly, she regretted it.

“Ow.” She tenderly rubbed the area she had poked. “What the? If this is a dream, why did that feel real?” She reached over to grab Rarity, but her hooves went through her.

He shrugged. “Well, to be fair, I never said it was your dream.” He held out a hoof. “Stop.”

Everything in the room froze; Rainbow Dash’s mouth was wide open with a cupcake suspended about a foot above. Mr. Cake’s face was frozen in a silly grin, his tongue waggling out of his mouth. Pinkie Pie beamed, her smile so wide that it didn’t seem possible.

Doctor Weaver waved a hoof towards them. “Don’t they look so happier this way?”

Meanwhile, Twilight continued to try and wake up by pinching herself. He just shook his head.

"Twilight Sparkle, why do you struggle so? Can't you see? This is a perfect world. There's no suffering here, no more pain. There is only... happiness."

“Why can’t I wake up? If it’s not my dream, then why am I here?”

“The answer to that question... well I can’t really answer that. That would spoil the fun, you see.” He beckoned over to Twilight’s friends. “Here’s a hint: who’s the happiest pony here?”

Twilight squinted. Although her friends were all having fun, one of them stuck out the most. Realization dawned on her as Twilight poked her friend in the face and found that she was solid.

“Yes, you’ve guessed it. Seems obvious, when you think about it. In real life, she may have seemed happy on the outside but deep down, she felt like it could all go away at any time. But in her dreams, she doesn’t have to worry. She can always be happy.”

Twilight grabbed Pinkie by the shoulders and shook her. “Wake up, Pinkie! Wake up.”

Weaver frowned. “Now Twilight, why would you want to do that? Are you trying to take her happiness away?”

"No! It's not realistic to live this way. She has to come back to reality!"

“Are you sure you want to do that? Then she would have to face the harsh reality that the good times might end. Where there are disappointments, misunderstandings, and pain. Is that what you want for your friend?"

"You're wrong! She's stronger than that.”

“You say that now, but just wait till she inevitably breaks down. But if you insist...”

He clapped his hooves and everything went white.

Making Daddy Proud

Ever since she was a little foal, Trixie would always watch her father perform. A traveling magician, he always wore his trademark hat and cape everywhere he went, only rarely taking them off. He believed that a world-class magician always looked the part. As Trixie grew up with her father, he taught her everything he knew. From card tricks to disappearing acts, he dazzled her with the amazing world of magic.

Trixie tried her best to impress her father. She felt like she needed to earn his love. Whenever she had a moment of spare time, she would practice. However—no matter how hard she tried—she felt that she couldn’t keep up. Compared to her father, her tricks paled in comparison. He became famous for several dangerous stunts in which he appeared unharmed. Once, he swallowed a flaming sword, yet his throat was perfectly fine. Another time, he locked himself in a watertight container and managed to escape with ease. He even shot himself with a pistol, and caught the bullet with his teeth. Trixie couldn’t help but lose confident in her own skills since she had trouble with the basics.

Her father seemed flawless, immaculate, perfect. Her movements were clumsy and slow, and she couldn’t hide her hooves as well as she wanted to. Nevertheless, her father always patted her on the head and kissed her on the cheek, reassuring her that if she kept practicing, she would become one of the best magicians on Equestria. Although he said that he was happy that Trixie took up the craft of magic, she felt that his eyes held a little bit of disappointment whether she messed up.

Every night, when the lights were out and everypony was asleep, Trixie snuck into her father’s closet. Grabbing his signature hat and cape while he slept, Trixie adorned herself and went outside. In the moonlight, she practiced every trick imaginable. However, it wasn’t enough. The tricks seemed too plain. These simple tricks just wouldn’t do. If she was going to impress him, she needed to pull something huge. She made a vow: she would perform a trick so spectacular, so great and powerful, that her father couldn’t help but be amazed.

Finally, as the days turned into months, she found a formula to performing the greatest magic trick known to ponykind. This trick involved surrounding herself with magic and flying through the air, just like a pegasus. As she flew across the night air, she would create a trail of stars and imprint her own little constellation.

The process seemed complicated, yet she was confident she could do it. It required focus. Complete concentration. The same night as her epiphany, she climbed to the top of her moving carriage and took a deep breath. If anything was going to please her father, this was it. Slowing her breath, she surrounded her body with her magic. With a grunt, she flexed her legs and leaped upwards into the air.

Zipping several hundred feet into the air, she couldn’t help but shout. “I’m doing it. I’m really doing it!” An image of her father smiling appeared in her head. For a brief period of time, she was finally happy. She imagined what her father would say and how he would praise her.

She felt herself rushing downwards, wind wrapping around her fur. At that moment, she realized something. Her magic had slipped. She barely opened her mouth to scream before she hit the ground with a thud.

An intense pain ripped through her body. She tried to sit up, but something cracked and she fell back down. She heard a voice call out, but she wasn’t sure who it was. Her vision was fuzzy. As a figure gently picked her up, everything went black.

She awoke in a white room. Her side had been bandaged up. Next to her was her sobbing father.

“Why did you do this?” He stared into her eyes.

She looked down, unable to look at him. “I just wanted to make you happy.”

Wiping a tear from his eye, he whispered, “Oh Trixie. I’m always happy when I’m around you.” He gave her a hug as gently as he could. “Please don’t do something like that again. It’s not worth it.”

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

After Trixie went to sleep, her father never left her side. Snuggling next to him, she realized that her dad loved her after all and that she didn't need to try so hard.

The Locket

The road stretched out before her, twisting and turning like a great, earthy snake. Her eyes closed, she breathed in deeply, allowing the scent of warm summer air to fill her nostrils. Slowly, a thin smile spread across her face; it tugged at her cheeks, pulling them farther and farther back until a wide grin covered her face.

She glanced over her shoulder. Behind her, a small town lay nestled in an emerald valley. Her smile faltered for a half-second; she blinked back tears.

As she walked away, her saddlebags felt heavy on her back. They were weighed down with food and supplies, but also something else.

A faint, blue glow emanated from her horn as she opened the bag and removed a small object wrapped in soiled rags. She unwrapped it carefully, revealing a pewter locket attached to a silver-plated chain. Magic engulfed the locket as it rose daintily from the rags and placed itself around her neck. Teardrops rolled off her cheeks, splashing on the dry ground.

So this is how it begins?

Rain poured down in buckets as she galloped through the muddy streets. The cold penetrated her body like an icy spear, chilling her to the bone; it soaked her blue coat, her mane hanging limply about her shoulders.

As she barreled down the street, she glimpsed a sign hanging from one of the buildings.

“Emporium of Illusory”

She slid to a halt in front of the shop. The sign rocked back and forth in the wind as she gazed up at it. Mind made up, she scrambled into the store, eager to get out of the rain.

She was greeted by the chiming of a charming little bell as the door swung open. Cold water dripped from her as she stood on the threshold. It soaked the wooden floor and left a wet trail as she walked further into the shop.

She looked around in awe as she saw rows upon rows of shelves stacked with all sorts of magical paraphernalia. Far in the back, she could see a hat and cape resting on a musty old mannequin. As she drew closer, she could tell that the violet silk was embroidered with all manner of gold and blue stars.

Her eyes widened into saucers as a tiny grin crept across her face.

“I see you've found her old robes,” came a dusty old voice from behind, startling her. She whirled around to see an old stallion, with stark white hair, hobbling towards her. He wore a rickety smile that seemed about as stable as his legs. He nodded towards the mannequin. “Those used to belong to a great and powerful magician, you know?” His horn glowed as he lifted the hat and cape from the mannequin and into her outstretched hooves.

They felt soft against her skin. “They're beautiful,” she remarked, her eyes fixated on the silken material.

He chuckled. “So they are.”

“I'm a traveling magician myself.” She stared transfixed at the robes. “Or at least that's what I want to be,” she added sheepishly.

“I might be persuaded to part with those”—he paused—“for the right price.”

She shrugged the saddlebags off and fished through them to find a small coin purse. She emptied the contents onto the floor and counted out the money.

“Eleven bits, that's all I have.”

He clicked his tongue. “I'm sorry, but that's not nearly enough.” The hat and cape were surrounded by a faint white glow as the lifted from her grasp. She hung her head. The locket, still hanging around her neck, caught his eye. “Perhaps we can make a deal,” he offered. “That locket—plus your eleven bits—for these.”

She bit her lip, looking down at the tiny locket. Tearfully, she removed it and hugged it close. Her eyes darted back and forth between the locket and the clothes. Finally, she clenched her eyes shut and handed the locket over.

He grinned toothily. “Excellent, we have a deal then!”

She took the hat and cape reluctantly and walked away. Tears fell onto the cloth, staining it. With one last look over her shoulder, she exited the shop.

After watching her leave, he looked down at the locket. White light consumed it as he pried it open. Inside he found a small picture of a smiling, sapphire unicorn; engraved on the side was a message: “Aim for the stars. Love always, Mom.”

For Mommy

“Girls? Girls!” Cheerilee gaped and galloped at a full sprint across the schoolyard, pushing her way through a small crowd of nervous fillies. “Stop it this instant! Girls!” She bit down on a small filly’s blonde mane and tugged her out of the melee. She held her and the other filly apart at foreleg’s length, and alternated glares at each of them. “What in Celestia’s name is going on here? Talk. Now.”

Dinky Hooves glared at her bloodied opponent. Her eyes glistened with a special kind of tears: those borne of pure, unadulterated hatred. “She... She said awful thing—horrible things—about Mommy!”

“I didn't!” Diamond Tiara held up her hooves defensively and spoke with the tact of a politician. “I only said the truth. It’s a real medical condition, and—”

Dinky leaned her full weight into Cheerilee’s foreleg, swinging her hooves as hard as she could. “She called Mommy a retard!”

Cheerilee inhaled sharply. The onlooking classmates instinctively stepped backwards, stunned into silence. After a pause, Cheerilee turned to one of them. “Dinky Hooves. There is no excuse to ever attack one of your classmates like that.”

“What?! But she—” Her protest stopped cold when Cheerilee held up her hoof.

“You need to use your words, never your hooves. You need to take the mature, responsible course of action. Do I make myself clear?” She frowned at the unintelligible reply. “Dinky, is that clear?”

Dinky bowed her head. Her expression hid behind her bangs, her tone flat. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” With a nod, she slowly walked back toward the schoolhouse. “Diamond Tiara. Come with me.”

Diamond Tiara gulped audibly. “U-Um, you’re not going to tell Daddy that I—”

Cheerilee whipped around. “Now!” she shouted through clenched teeth.

“Yes, ma’am,” she squeaked, her ears drooping flat.

The student and teacher disappeared into the building. Soon after, the rest of the class dispersed as well, heading back to their respective homes. Young Dinky stood alone in the schoolyard. Hot tears dripped from her bowed muzzle as the afternoon sun slowly descended toward the horizon.

“That was very brave of you.”

Dinky looked up. Standing in front of her was a middle-aged unicorn with a brown coat. He smiled disarmingly at her. “Standing up for your mother like that.”

She wiped her eyes clean and looked back to the stranger. “Mommy is the most brave, most kind, most special pony in the whole wide world. Of course I’d stand up for her! I just hate it when... when...”

He stared down his muzzle at her. “When others mention her eyes.”

“Her eyes are different.” She pawed at the ground. “There’s nothing wrong with being different. If everypony was the same, nopony would be special—that’s what Mommy tells me. But I just hate when ponies are mean to Mommy. It’s not her fault.”

The stallion let silence hang in the air before adding, “It needn't be that way, you know.”

“Huh?”

“Your mother’s eyes.”

Dinky took a step backwards and looked up at the unicorn. “What do you mean?”

He smiled. “You see, my dear, I’m a doctor. My special talent is healing unusual ailments with my magic.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Why, I bet that I could help fix your dear mother’s eyesight.”

Dinky’s eyes grew and her jaw fell. “You mean it? You could make Mommy look...”

“Normal.” He continued to smile at her. “And she’d never be teased for her appearance again. But it won’t be easy.” His smile disappeared for once. “It will be difficult to gather all the ingredients for my spell. You’ll need to be very brave. Are you willing to do that, for your dear, sweet mother?”

“Of course!” she replied immediately. “I’d do anything to help Mommy.”

His smile returned. “That’s a good girl. Come along with me, then. We’ll get started right away.” He turned down the path leading away from the school, with her following close at his hooves.

Derpy looked up from the dinner she was preparing and frowned. “A letter?” she asked rhetorically. The letter lay in the entryway, just underneath the mail slot. She had not noticed its arrival, nor had it been in her mailbag when she ran her route this morning.

She stepped over to the letter, opened it up, and began reading from the top. As her eyes scanned row by row, her blood slowly turned to ice. Upon reading the last word, she dropped the letter and brought her trembling hooves to her face. “Muffin...”

A Painted World

“The best and fastest flier in all Equestria.” whispered Dash to herself. “And this is my little secret.” Rainbow Dash sat on silver trimmed cloud that glowed gold in the setting sun's light. The trees and clouds and wild blowing grasses burnt away in the sunset, their edges smudged as though rendered with in an artistic hoof. Far to her left and right the oceans were tubs of pastel artists colors upended over the world's brim.

Rainbow Dash's ears barely flicked at the double jolt as two more ponies landed beside her. Her eyes lulled shut in a drawn out blink before she glanced at her visitors.

“Hello, Rainbow Dash. I'm glad somepony still enjoys our work.” said Celestia, whose shifting mane caught the evening light and scattered it to the clouds' every rounded crest.

“My sister told me that she hadn't been here since my banishment to the moon.” said Luna, who had knelt closest to Rainbow Dash. Her presence filled the cloudscape's valleys with deepest velvet shadow.

Rainbow Dash remained silent for a time, then squinted as she framed a portion of the landscape between her hooves. “Yeah, without Luna the mid-tones sort of kill it.”

Celestia chuckled.

The world was woven of cool silver and spider-silk when the sun finally sank beneath the world. The rustle of leaves sounded glassy, small, and far off. Rainbow Dash's lungs swelled with the crisp night air, and the roots of her mane prickled. She looked between the two sisters. Celestia's eyes were lidded and her head hung in repose, while Luna's eyes glittered with stars and her haunches beneath her tensed as though she could fly off into the night.

Rainbow Dash recalled the next day's work. All her chores and responsibilities as a weather pony. All her obligations to her friends. But her heart twisted within her chest. Maybe tonight. Maybe just this once I can leave it all behind. She heard Luna shift beside her, and she turned to see the alicorn rising to her hooves.

“You feel it too? Most little ponies mistake that feeling for fear and hide indoors. They never experience the night,” said Luna. In the waxing moon glow she looked even taller than her sister.

Dash rose to stand beside the princess. She looked up at Luna and splayed her wings. “What is this? I don't feel sleepy at all. I feel like I could leap into the night, but...” The words escaped Rainbow Dash in a breath of cold fog.

Luna smiled at the pegasus, spread her own wings with a gust of darkness, then plunged from the cloud's edge without a word. She dove along the world's edge waterfall, where each drop fell in sparkling array before winking into the blackness beyond the world. When she looked back she saw a bolt of silver-blue racing after her.

Appreciating The Other Side

Celestia dipped her head low, watching the spear bounce off the edge of the chariot. Instantly, her guards circled around her.

“Protect the objective. Keep the Princess safe! Hold up those barriers, boys.”

A blue shield shimmered around the group as Celestia watched countless more spears, arrows and magic projectiles bounce off.

“Such a weak display of magic. Pitiful fools.” A black bolt slammed into the shield, and lightning arched through the ponies within. The shield failed as the guards twitched and fell to the earth.

Celestia herself collapsed to her knees, wincing in pain at the familiar magic. Gritting her teeth, she stood and levitated herself from the chariot. “Sister, show yourself.” Upon request, black miasma surged from every angle, slowly taking the shape of a pony.

Luna smiled, “How rude of you to forgot ‘please’, sister. And it’s Nightmare Moon now. We are not Luna anymore.”

Celestia stared at the form of her sister. Her beautiful blue coat was now black as night. “Stop this, Luna. Please.”

Luna chuckled, “We didn’t think you would beg, Celly.” She used her wings to gesture around. “Pitch black night, how quiet and lovely.”

“Ignoring the screams in the background, are you?” Celestia hissed at her sister. “Ponies are dying, starving to death or killing each other. This crusade of yours has to end, sister. Lower the moon, Luna. We can solve all of this with diplomacy.

“We spent enough time talking, sister, and you never listened. That chance has come and gone. Night shall reign forever, our majestic moon shining upon Equestria for all eternity .”

Celestia sighed, “I can’t let you do that, Luna.”

Luna’s vicious smile faltered for a second as well, “We knew it would come to this.” The alicorn dispersed, fading back into the fog as Celestia raised a barrier and turned. As if on cue, magic washed over the shield in a massive blast.

“I’m thousands of years ahead of you in combat, sister. I’ve mastered every tactic you’ve only recently learned.” Celestia turned again, blocking another projectile. She listened to the gentle swishing of the air, ignoring the battle raging in the city around her.

There.

Celestia turned, summoning up her own attack. It left her horn in an explosive detonation, and raced across the ground towards nothing. As it passed empty air, the attack met with a force. It arced across the thing’s body and a terrible scream filled the air.

Luna dropped to the ground, coat sizzling with smoke.

“Clever little sister, we are surprised you would attack your own blood.”

Celestia averted her vision from Luna, “It wasn’t an attack, sister.”

“Wha-?” Luna tried to move, her limbs not obeying as the alicorn flopped on the ground. “What are you doing, Celestia!?” She screamed at the sun goddess.

“The only thing I can.” Celestia turned back toward the chariot, using her magic to levitate out what her guards had been protecting.

“The Elements!” Luna hissed through her teeth. “You wouldn’t do it!”

“If it means ending this terror and stopping your tyranny, Luna, then I’ll do what I need to.” Celestia readied the elements, the orbs beginning to charge with magical energy. She stepped towards Luna and knelt close to her sister. “I’ll ask you one more time, Luna. Please, just stop. Please.” The last ‘please’ was barely a whisper.

Luna’s face emptied of anger as she looked to her sister. “We don’t think we can, Celly. It won’t let us.” Her worlds weren’t more than whimpers.

“Then you leave me no choice, sister.” Celestia turned, her horn glowing as she connected to the elements. "Luna, for your crimes against the people of Equestria, I hereby banish you to the object you love most; the moon. You shall have a thousand years to admire its beauty alone on the surface.”

“We sorry, sis.” Luna muttered.

“No, Luna, I am.”

The elements discharged, firing towards Luna and wrapping the alicorn in a rainbow vortex. Her tortured screams filled the night as the entire magical display vanished in a massive imploding shockwave, shooting towards the sky in a final magical gesture.

Celestia crumbled, falling to the ground. She glanced towards the sky, realizing what she had done.

Luna had been right after all. Ignoring the bloodshed, the dead, the starving and the dissent that would leave Equestria broken for centuries, the moon was beautiful. It still was even as she ignored the tears in her eyes.

A Simple Model

Princess Celestia raced down the corridors of Canterlot Castle. The hallway rang with the haunting melody of her golden slippers as they struck the stone floor in a syncopated rhythm. She would have prayed that she was not too late, but when one is already worshiped as an immortal godhead, to whom could one pray?

A tremendous crash shook the room as she bucked down the doors to the royal chambers. Though the noonday sun was high in the cloudless sky, the room was painted in pulsating darkness, more ultraviolet than black. As she expected, the source of the night energy stood in the center of the room, twitching in ecstasy. “Luna!” Her sharp voice sounded muffled by the dark fog of the room. “Stop this at once.”

“Ah, dearest sister.” Princess Luna turned around to face her elder. Her jaw was locked into the steepest of grins, cruelly at odds with the direness of the situation. Her eyes glistened with hope, ambition, and insanity. “Thou art just in time for the show to begin.”

Celestia swallowed. “No, my Luna. I cannot allow you to proceed. For the sake of all of Equestria, I must put a stop to your plans, here and now.”

She scoffed. “The sake of Equestria. Of course. It is always the Princess of the Day who knows what is best for everypony, while We must play the fool. While We must kowtow to our infinite better. While We must be reminded time and again of Our eventide’s inferiority.” Her grin grew in intensity. “No longer. We shall save Equestria from its fate, with or without the blessings of the almighty Princess Celestia.”

“Can...” Celestia said as she staggered backwards. “Can you even hear yourself speak, sister? You talk of saving Equestria? Your plans show nothing but tyranny and greed!”

Luna’s eyes narrowed. “I wouldst advice thou,” she growled through clenched teeth, “to refrain from judging that which thou dost not fully comprehend.”

Celestia’s eyes danced to a window at the far corner of the room, through which stood a lone tower with majestic dressings. The Elements of Harmony lay within. If she could just get inside, she could leverage their power and... She closed her eyes. She knew full well what would come next—what must come next—but it felt too cruel to be real.

“Mmm, too rich,” chuckled Luna. “Thou wouldst consider turning the power of the Elements against thine only sister? Yet supposedly it is We who are the tyrant.”

“You are right.”

“Eh?”

“My words and actions have been hypocritical.” Celestia opened her eyes and forced the faintest of smiles onto her face. “I have scorned you and your plans without fully comprehending them. I am sorry, Luna. I shall give you one chance to explain yourself in full.” She pointed a hoof at her sister. “Though I warn you, if I do not like what I hear—”

“Huzzah!” cried Luna with glee. “Then let us begin!”

A flash of bright light blinded Celestia and forced a hoof to her eyes. Near instantly, she heard a sharp crack from the center of the room. She forced herself to lower her hoof and crane open her teary eyes.

“Two bits per month.”

“What?” asked Celestia.

As her eyes adjusted to the bright light in the center of the dim room, shapes began to take form. Colored rectangles of various sizes. A circle composed of multiple slices. A jagged line climbing ever upward.

“Thou were right, dear Celestia. Even one bit for a single dream was too steep of a tax.” Luna thwapped the projector screen once more with her pointer. “But as thou can see here, a nominal monthly tax upon Our subjects is within reason. Even accounting for those who opt out of dreaming, We shall raise enough funds to complete renovations upon Ponyville Hospital.”

“And what of dreams forgotten by morning?” Celestia stomped her hoof, sending a crisp echo through the room. “What of nightmares? You would charge our subjects for these as well?!”

“All part of the experience,” purred Luna. “Dreams of joy. Dreams of terror.” Her bared her toothy grin once more. “Perhaps... a student's sensual dreams of her dear teacher?”

“You monster!” snarled Celestia. The sound of her cry was drowned out as Princess Luna cackled and howled with glee.

Held Together By Misery

No time to think, no time to rest. Orders to fill, customers to satisfy, and high-class ponies to impress.

Still, this had been what her dream was. Right? Being the best of the best, the most renowned and known seamstress in all of Equestria. Right? Not being able to step outside her house without being bombarded by adoring fans, new orders, interviews, talk show requests, ball invitations, tea time gatherings and even the odd wine tasting ceremony. Yes, these were all the things famous ponies did and other ponies dreamed of. And now, it was all hers. Everything was.

Ouch!

She glanced down to see she had sewn the edge of her leg accidently to the fabric she was working on. Darn, too many distractions, too much thinking, all these thoughts were just messing with the focus she needed to keep her head in the game.

No more thinking, she decided, giving her head a shake to get the thoughts out as she tackled the dress again.

She couldn’t lose focus, after all, there were too many competitors out to one up her. To step into the next threshold of fashion before her.

She wouldn’t let that happen.

Yes, being famous did come with its disadvantages. There were no shortage of ponies looking to ruin her for a simple sum of bits, no lack of the scheming business colts who would destroy her own image. Half of fashion was being fabulous yourself because no one wants to buy clothes from a peasant. If she lost her image, her persona, she might as well close up shop now.

She had her friends, of course. No, not the ones from Ponyville. She’d left them so many years ago when this opportunity had arisen. No turning back, they had told her, and she hadn’t. All her fame had been because of her friends.

And for the life of her, she couldn’t remember a single name. The color of their coats were shrouded in the stress and work of the last ten years. The more she thought about it, the less she could recall altogether. She could faintly make out somepony helping her hunt for gems. Heh, it was funny. The more she thought about it, the less sure she became that it was a pony in the first place. In fact, she could almost remember…

OUCH!

She had stitched her hoof again, drawing blood through the skin and fur. See, thinking was dangerous and she didn’t have time to waste as it was. No more thinking! That was the final declaration! She stopped to breathe, shaking her head to get rid of the pesky thoughts once and for all. This was her life, this was what she had worked so hard to achieve, and nostalgia would not rob this from her! Sacrifices were a normal part of any mare’s life and she was no different. Popularity, fame and fortune were the staples of her existence now, and it didn’t matter if it left her empty, hollow and miserable. It didn’t matter she cried herself to sleep every night, or that she drank way too much. The pain she endured was for a greater cause. It was for fashion, and that meant she had to persevere!

Right?

Voices

“Has he remembered yet?”

“I don’t know.”

“We should never have come; this was a fools errand.”

“Featherleaf, you were the closest to him. Do you have any idea where he’s leading us?”

“How should I know? He hardly speaks anymore. I swear, the stallion’s gone mad.”

“Well, we’ve been out here for months, and we just lost another good pony last night.”

“Yeah, Silvershine would still be here if we had just stayed put.”

“What would you have done, Thunderstreak? We were starving, and half the water was poisoned. We’d have died.”

“Oh, and we’re so much better off now.”

“We have food at least.”

“Fine, defend him, then. Come on, Grass Blade. Let's go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stonebuck lay down by her lover's side, crying into his mane. “Oh, Silvershine, why now? We were going to have foals. Why couldn't you just hold on longer? We’re almost there, I can feel it.” She continued to weep quietly beside his body, his silver coat glistening red in the moonlight.

Why did everypony keep dying? They had been so happy before the plague. She and Silvershine were mere foals, playing in the vast meadows. What had they done to deserve such a fate?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grass Blade circled the camp, watching for any signs of wild animals, like the one that had attacked Silvershine. The plague had driven the animals mad. It was in the water. They would drink it, and begin to act strange. Some would claw at their own throats, others would simply walk in circles until exhaustion. It wasn't right. It wasn't natural. Where had it come from?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Featherleaf ducked inside their tent. "Hey, you still in there?"

Night Strider sat in the middle, shaking and muttering to himself. “The dream. I need to have the dream.”

“There, there, Nighty. You’re alright. I’m here.” She wrapped her wings around him.

“The foals, I have to... protect... the foals.” He stared toward the back of the tent.

“Our foals are dead, Strider. They were the first to go. You can still protect what is left of the tribe, though. You just need to show us the way.”

“P... protect...”

“Yes. Remember. You know the way. You’ve been there before, haven’t you?”

Night Strider silently nodded. Feather Leaf nuzzled his neck, and lay down next to him.

“Good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thunderstreak circled the camp from above, keeping the fire in sight while he scanned the horizon.

“Still no change. Ugh, where is that blind fool taking us?” They had been traveling for weeks, chasing some accursed old legend about some nonexistent oasis beyond the horizon. And of course the fates were cruel enough to allow Night Strider to remember the way only after he’d gone mad from drinking the water.

A silly foalhood dream, that’s what it was. He knew there was no truth to the legend at all. There was no oasis, no food, no cure for the disease. They were hopelessly walking to their deaths. But would anypony listen? No. Grass Blade had hardly spoken a word to him since the day Blossom Tail had died. As if he could somehow have saved her. The plague had taken her before she could stand. Tears streamed down his face and fell from the sky as he thought of her. How beautiful she had been.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Come on, Night Strider. Keep going, you can do it.

Yes, listen to us. We hold the key to your salvation.

Show me. Show me the dream. The dream I had once.

And what will you pay to get it? The lives of your people? You have already lost that.

Their lives are not worth much anyway. They’re all going to die soon.

I have to... protect them.

And how do you plan to do that? Silvershine is dead. Only you can sort out the poisoned plants from the good now, but you can’t ever cure yourself.

Yes, only our way is the answer. Listen to us, we will guide you.

But what do you want from me? I have already given you everything I have.

Everything? What about... her?

Yes, yes. For her we will show you the dream. The dream that will lead you home.

No. Not her, anypony but her. Take-- Take me instead. You can have me. Just let me save her.

Oh, but we already have you. I thought you’d realized that the day you drank that nasty water.

Yes, hee-hee-hee-hee. You are ours. OURS!

Confessions

Twilight took a sip of her tea. “So, Trixie, how are you doing these days?”

“Trixie is, ah, managing. But... business is slow,” she said quietly.

Six ponies sat around a rectangular wooden table, two together on each side and Twilight and Trixie on the ends.

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

Pinkie had a slice of cake on her plate before her, but she stared at it like it had just committed a heinous crime. Trixie was also barely touching hers, glancing up at the rest of the occupants of the table only to quickly look back down again.

“Trixie knows that she... was not very courteous to you all,” she said finally, taking some effort.

Pinkie was now glaring daggers at her cake. Rarity looked politely at Trixie, showing a true, ladylike façade. Fluttershy hid behind her mane.

“What’s done is done, Trixie,” Applejack smiled tightly. “Water under th’ bridge.” Twilight nodded along.

“No,” Trixie said, “Trixie feels...”

She then stopped for a few moments, closing her eyes. Everyone at the table looked up.

“I feel,” she began, the pronoun sounding alien from Trixie’s mouth, “I am... sorry.”

“Well, that’s the main thang,” Applejack smiled. “You realized the error of yer’ ways.”

Trixie looked into Applejack’s eyes. Applejack’s smile faltered.

“Trixie... Trixie’s dream was to be loved and respected,” she said, looking back to her plate. “It is a... powerful thing for Trixie. Sometimes— No, many times, it clouds Trixie’s judgement. I... I was lonely.”

At the last word, Applejack made a strained gulp. Pinkie, who hadn't looked at Trixie since she had arrived, gave a sharp, quiet sob.

“In truth... Trixie had hoped that, maybe, if she performed well enough in Ponyville, since it is a small town, Trixie could make some friends. Trixie did not realize how... how she must have appeared to you all,” she said.

“Well, Trixie, I can forgive you for that magic you did to my mane,” Rarity said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. She was the only one trying to smile.

“Trixie feels she owes you all... an explanation. This will be difficult for Trixie”—she quickly caught herself from melodrama—“but... I owe you all this, at least.”

The room was silent.

“Trixie’s parents... Trixie did not know her parents. But I dreamed that they were rich and famous. I dreamed that maybe if I could also be like them, I would meet them again—They would want me again,” she almost said the last sentence to herself, looking down from the table. “Trixie has not been... loved before.”

Fluttershy was now looking at Trixie with a pained expression.

“This is why I need my magic. At my... orphanage,” Trixie said the word like she was spitting out rotting food, “the only thing that attracted anypony’s attention was my magic. The others... they would only come to me to get me to do tricks. To entertain them.”

“...Sometimes, Trixie would be made to do magic, even when she did not want to,” she said evenly, betraying nothing. “And when I had grown up, I decided I would do what I did best: entertain.”

Twilight looked at Trixie, aghast. “Trixie...” she began, placing a hoof on her shoulder.

“And this is why I did... it. After Ponyville, I felt I was not strong enough. I had always been the strongest. Nopony at the orphanage, or anywhere else, had ever upstaged me like that. I felt I needed better tricks.”

“Oh, no,” Twilight said quietly.

“On my way through the forest, I decided I would try to pull my wagon across the river. Simple levitation and state-transmuting magic, but...” she gulped.

“I was not strong enough," she admitted, for the first time in her life.

Pinkie’s back shook as she cried silently. Rarity patted her back.

“If it had not been for her, I would not be here.”

Everyone at the table winced.

Pinkie suddenly stood, quivering with inner turmoil. “YOU should have died! Rainbow Dash was twenty times the pony you are!" she screeched. "You’re a useless... waste of life! I hate you! I...” She trailed off as the meaning of her words, coming straight from her heart, caught up with her. "I..."

Rarity got up and hugged her tightly.

“I... I just want Dashie back,” Pinkie said weakly.

Trixie just stared blankly at her.

“You are right,” Trixie said. “I am sorry for being alive.”

Trixie got up and left.

Our Separate Ways

Rock Solid was anything but at the moment. Hunched over his desk, its surface strewn with updated and discarded work-out schedules and diet plans, he smushed his face with both his forehooves. Staying in shape and keeping healthy was his talent, and looking over his planned routines usually lifted his spirits. But on this day, a day he never imagined he would dread, they did nothing for him.

A tap at his bedroom's door was followed by the voice of his roommate, Sweeps.

“Hey Rock, are you coming out or not?”

“No need to; I'm busy thinking up another routine.”

“Really? Doesn't look like it to me.”

Rock turned with a start and saw that the easy-going unicorn stallion had entered his room silently, but he turned back to dwell more angrily in misery. Despite his attempt to seem as unapproachable as possible, Sweeps came up to him regardless.

“It's the last chance you'll get to see her for a long time, man,” he said. “Don't you want to see her off at least?”

“Nah, there's plenty others there to say goodbye. No need for me to be whatsoever,” Rock replied while scrunching his face. Sweeps merely sighed.

“Your one of her long-time best friends. She'd definitely want to hear from you.”

“She's probably too busy getting ready to leave by now. Ah well.”

Tailwind. Sweeps wasn't far off in saying she and Rock were longtime friends, in that they knew each other since grade school. Some silly pegasus filly getting picked on her first day at school, and Rock wasn't feeling too pleasant to let that kind of thing slide. It wouldn't have been far off either to say he was the first friend she made in Ponyville.

“Can't believe you're just gonna ditch her like that,” Sweeps said, bringing Rock's focus back to the present. “Totally not cool, y'know?”

“It's not that it matters,” Rock snapped back. “She's got an awesome career with new friends and other great things. No time for her to worry about some school buddy.”

She wanted to be a Wonderbolt. That's all Tailwind talked about when they hung out at recess, even though she was a clumsy flyer. Rock was all about training even in those younger days, and offered to help her out. It started off as mostly goofing around on her part, but she soon started to take it seriously when she noticed his frustrations.

She got better over the years, and he got more buffed, and they had even started a small-time exercise studio to earn some bits on the side. Sweeps entered the picture when the studio grew into a business, and not long after that Tailwind started applying for the Wonderbolts. There were rejections and tears, and Rock was there to get her back on her hooves and try again. Then the day had come when she finally made it. She was ecstatic, and he couldn't have been happier.

“Dude, you suck at hiding it. Just go and tell her, while you still can.”

Another call to Earth from Sweeps, and this made Rock hunch over even more.

“Tell her what? There's nothing to say. Besides, even if there was, why tie her down to some muscle-headed earth pony? Her dream is in the air, and she's been on the ground long enough.”

Sweeps shook his head and made to leave. “Alright, just mope away obviously then. Though have you thought she feels the same for you? Think about it.”

Sweeps left with the door open and Rocks further bogged down in himself.

“It wasn't supposed to be like this...” he grumbled.

Friends, that's all they were. He was some rough brute who trained her and kept the bullies back, nothing more. She deserved better, someone more gentle and can give her the sky. Yet how he felt around her, and the way she trusted him, looked at him when they were alone.

“...DAMMIT!”

Rock flipped over his desk and stormed out of the room, bounded down the stairs and out the front door, almost trampling Sweeps in the process. The ponies in the streets made clear, as they better well should, Rock thought. He had a carriage to catch, and no one was stopping him!

To Equestria

Chris Jacobson ran his fingers through Fluttershy's mane again, and was rewarded by a little croon of pleasure. "I still can't believe it," he laughed softly, cuddling closer to his pony lover. "All I wanted for so many years was to be able to hold you, Fluttershy, even though I knew it was impossible...”

Fluttershy just giggled, and Chris snuggled closer.

They kissed, warmly, sensuously, as the world faded to black for the very last time.

“... Cutting the simulation now. That's a wrap, folks.” Dr. Watts lifted the oversized helmet off of his head and yawned. “We got him his wish, however creepy it was, just in the nick of time.” He shut off the EKG with a flick of his wrist, and the continuous beep that it had been producing ceased.

Watt's older associate had already removed her own apparatus and was busy comforting the deceased's wife.

"They don't pay you enough for this." Mrs. Jacobson's hands trembled as they closed around Dr. Rosaline's. "There must be something I can do...”

The younger doctor struck a pose from where he sat at the controls. "You know, I've told our boss that exact same thing a thousand times, but somehow he never--"

Dr. Rosaline silenced him with a sharp look. "Fulfilling their dreams is enough," she said with a sympathetic smile. "Wherever Christopher is now, I think he's glad that he got to experience... whatever that was."

"Yeah..." Dr. Watts spoke up again, apparently having not learned his lesson the first time. "We've had some strange patients before, but this one really took the--"

"Oh for spaghetti's sake, Watts," Dr. Rosaline groaned. "So he was an eccentric old guy. What's wrong with wanting to live in a cartoon world? Didn't you ever wish you could live in the world of some book or anime?"

Dr. Watts sighed as he started to pack the equipment in, starting with the simulation monitor and the helmets. “Yeah, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna make that my one wish.”

Dr. Rosaline rolled her eyes. “I bet yours will turn out to be just as childish anyway.” She walked over to the bed, where the IV was still pumping meaninglessly, and helped the medical doctor with the task of packing everything in.

“Before you go, there was something he wanted to give you.” Mrs. Jacobson tottered over to Dr. Rosaline, fishing something out of her pocket as she went.

“Oh, ma'am, we're not supposed to accept--”

Dr. Watts bumped her out of position, craning his neck to see what Mrs. Jacobson was trying to show them. “Shh! I bet this'll be a really interesting one!”

Mrs. Jacobson gave a crooked smile as she opened her hand. She was holding two identical plastic figurines, no more than an inch and a half tall. They depicted a four-legged little winged creature in a rearing position, with a yellow body and a pink mane and tail.

Like a Stone

It was a good ways down for five stories. It's cliché to admit, but things really did slow down for me. That was fine; it gave me time to take in the sights. A last look at the world as it passed by. Maybe even a chance to reflect, or find the meaning of life. Hmm, might need a skyscraper for that one.

What I first noticed was a patch of freshly painted wall, featureless and boring. Much like my childhood, and especially my parents. Accountants practically bred for such a purpose, spending their days stamping and filing forms. No doubt they expected me to follow in their hoofsteps, but their offspring had aspirations of being artistic. Instead of filling patent forms he insisted on filling sheets of paper with stories. Admittedly they were amateurish even for a young colt, but it still hinted at a threatening degree of life, and that was a risk they couldn't take! More drab wallpapers, more dull family outings to the stock exchange. Alas, though their efforts were commendable, I still chose to write stories that were anything but about accounting.

Now I passed a window with a tray of flowers on the sill. The midday light made them brilliant, almost as brilliant as she was when I first saw her. Barely an adult and sitting out by a cafe when she trotted by, in a powder-blue dress and a silken cream mane that can drive a colt wild, and asked what I was writing. At that point my stories were slightly less amateurish, but even so I was surprised that she actually liked it. I don't recall it being one of my better works, but it piqued her curiosity enough to ask me my name after offering hers. Chrysanthemum, but Chrissy for short, which she claimed to prefer. No matter what she called herself, she was beautiful. With looks like that, even Mud would be a knock-out.

A screaming mother holding her foal on the third floor caught my attention next. Yeah, hers was much like the looks I got when Chrissy took me to one of her garden parties. A scandal if there ever was one: high-class Canterlot intermingling with Midtown worker drone stock. She didn't seem to mind at all, and frankly I didn't give much crap either. Seeing her laugh and smile whenever I talked to her was all the validation I needed.

I was blinded by a glimmering shard. Seems some of the window has reached my eye level finally. The way it shone was much like Chrissy eyes the night we consummated. It started out all tender and romantic, with a stroll and a dinner and some time on the couch, eventually ending with a modest invitation to her bedroom. I never saw her more beautiful then I did that night, as we embraced and kissed and felt one another. A never more lovely spirit, not to mention surprisingly wild. Just got to love those repressed upper crust types to really make your evening. Better than most dreams come true, I'd say.

I smiled at that thought when the ground finally came into view and took up all my field of vision. It was going to be hard, much like the hoof that knocked me out the window. Who knew a rich guy like Chrissy's dad could have so much hate over a few simple words? Fathers being overprotective was one thing, but this was just plain overkill. Well, at least he won't have the satisfaction of just scaring me away from his daughter.

I hit the ground before I could contemplate the way of the universe. A crack and then everything went black. Last thing I saw before it went quiet was that first smile she ever gave me. All things considered, for a no-name aspiring writer cut in his prime, it was totally worth it getting this far. Totally.

Rendezvous

There were nights when she felt herself alone upon arriving. On these nights she experienced a dead solitude, an isolation that didn't invite deep thoughts or a deserved rest from the world. Yet to her surprise she wouldn't stay alone for long.

“Hello there, beautiful. It's been a while.”

It was a familiar presence: brusque, arrogant, but also intelligent and even playful. It had indeed been a while since she last felt it, and felt a mixture of comfort and uncertainty that made her quiver slightly.

“I missed you.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. All the ladies can't get enough of me.”

Such obnoxious self-indulgence, but she knew that it was different when he said it around her. A somber twinge of nostalgia went through her.

“I see you've been doing well without me.”

“Yes. There have been lots of people for me to look after, and in turn so many to look after and care for me. Though, none have ever come off the same as you.”

A bellowing laugh shook the air. Others would have thought it cruel, but she knew it was just his own unique trait.

“Ha ha! Ever the sentimentalist as always, my dear.”

“Oh? As I recall, you yourself was quite sentimental from time to time.”

“Yes well, that was a long time ago. Ancient history to be precise.”

“Indeed...”

For a brief moment it had felt the same as it did back then, with her at ease before his towering presence. It went away quickly as she stared off. She sensed him approaching.

“Things were so much simpler then. No responsibilities, no rules or doctrines to uphold. Just us and the world as our playground.”

“They were simpler times, but all things must grow older, and face the world with newfound wisdom and understanding.”

“Serious as always. Something that I find both endearing and meddlesome about you. With all your wisdom, you still fail to see the importance of staying young at heart and partaking in a little mischief.”

“...Not if it meant hurting others.”

Distaste filled her as the ugly side of her memories began to rise.

“It was all in good fun, my dear.”

“No it wasn't. Ponies suffered, whether directly or from the disharmony you insisted on creating.”

“The whole harmony thing again? Guess it's in your nature, as wanton chaos is in mine.”

She felt his embrace, firm and yet gentle and warm. Her resolve began to shudder and her vision grew cloudy, willing her being to remain still.

“We can start again, you know? Leave the responsibilities, find a new land, be whatever we want to be without disrupting your precious harmony.”

She felt herself breaking, but stayed focused.

“Always wanting the easy way out. Why couldn't you live with stability? Why didn't you think any of it was important enough to adjust?”

It came off as begging. Pitiful. He suddenly grew cold.

“...As I said, it's in my nature. But I understand.”

He let her go, and she felt him drift steadily away.

“I pose a threat to your precious dream, and so won't bother you further. It's either one or the other between us. For you, precious Tia, I shall humbly submit...”

“WAIT!”

Celestia awoke in a cold sweat, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. Alone, once again, in the darkness.

Supply and Demand

“What? You have got to be kidding me! No way it costs that much!”

The music store clerk just tapped a hoof mindlessly on the countertop, not even looking at the seething customer before him.

“Sorry, I don't make the prices.”

“But it's 'Mule from La Mancha'!” the customer, Patter, shouted. “It's, like, forty years old. No way it costs thirty bits!”

“Well, it's the only one in the store, and last I heard, forty years makes for an antique,” the clerk said with a smug look. This only pissed off Patter more.

“This is an outrage! You win this day for now, wage slave, but I shall make that CD mine.”

Patter stomped away from the counter, leaving behind his desired claim and an ever indifferent-looking clerk.

“Don't let the door hit you on the way out.”

Back on the streets of Ponyville, Patter was hardly two yards from the music store when he entered another tirade.

“I can't believe this. After weeks of perusing I finally find my prize, only to have it retained by the greedy claws of capitalism! Such ingrates; how else will I be able to practice singing 'The Impossible Dream'? Hardly any stage company plays it and the Internet still doesn't exist for some reason.”

He turned back to the store to raise a hoof in hateful defiance as he lifted his volume to the heavens.

“Do you not see the suffering you inflict on the everyday consumer, your very life source, ye damned INSECTS!”

A passing mother and child stopped at this exclamation, the mother looking more uncomfortable than perplexed, as her son was.

“Mommy, why is he yelling at the store?”

“It's because he doesn't have friends to teach him better. Always remember that.”

The two scurried away in fear of getting involved in Patter's verbal crusade against the captains of industry. However, instead he turned inward and contemplated deeply, and also vocally.

“Hmm, in order to get what is rightly mine, there is only one logical course of action...”

The city of Ponyville, nighttime. A lone hoodied figure stalked up to the music store window, a brick in hoof.

“Anarchy!”

The brick was thrown through the oppressive pane of glass, allowing Patter to hop in and abscond with the captive soundtrack. Unfortunately he then noticed the burgler alarm blaring as he made his exit.

“Who the hell installs an alarm system in this town?”

He didn't have time to further ponder this anomaly as the shouts and rabble of the local law reached his ears. Uttering a swear, he made off for the alleyways, but the cops were hot on his tail. Despite knocking over trashcans and some impromptu parkour, Patter found himself corralled toward the town hall. Rather than stop and surrender, he called upon his musical theatrical spirit and leapt up to the second floor, scaling the roof up to the top. By this time a crowd had gathered and magically-trained spotlights were on him.

“Come down at once or we will fire!” the police chief ordered.

“Never!” Patter cried. “It's my duty, my PRIVILEGE to right your unrightable wrongs, fascists!”

The menace to society continued to climb up from hell for a heavenly cause until he made it to the very precipice of the building. With the grandeur of the moon at his back, Patter brought up his hooves, holding his prize in triumph. Just then there was a gunshot, and the CD flew from Patter's grasp. In desperation he reached out for it, involuntarily leaping from the roof in a dramatic fashion.

“~To reach the unreachable STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!~”

Thus the tyrant had fallen from his madness along with the cause of his downfall, and many an “iunno” was given that night.

All I Want is a Friend

As Luna stood atop the castle tower, she gazed downwards at the scenery below. The world seemed vast, yet so empty. All of the lights in Canterlot had been dimmed, and there was nary a pony in sight. Among the vibrant stars was a pattern of constellations arranged to form a giant Ursa Major attacking a village. To ease her boredom, Luna had created a movie out of the stars.

She chuckled, wondering if anypony had been watching. If there had been at least one pony paying attention to her performance, then it would have been worth it. Realization struck her as she sighed. She was alone.

Concentrating at a spot in the sky, she flexed her magic around various stars and pulled them into a circle, making a Merry-Go-Round. She released, and sat back to admire her work. It was magnificent enough, but she still wished that she had somepony to share it with. Her sister was usually asleep during the night and they alternated their sleeping schedules so they usually never met. Even the servants would avoid her, leaving her with her own thoughts most of the time. Ever since she returned, it wasn’t the same.

“Are you feeling lonely, Luna?” asked a voice from inside her head.

“No,” she replied curtly.

“Oh, come now. Don’t be ashamed to admit the truth. I can see your true feelings, after all.” A swirling cloud of black magic appeared from within Luna’s mane and formed a pony-like creature next to her. It was another alicorn, quite similar to Luna.

“Be gone, vile apparition. I wish to be left alone.”

“Tsk tsk. I’m only trying to help,” said the spirit. It paused for a few seconds as it watched Luna.

Luna let out a sigh and looked towards the streets of Canterlot. A few scattered torches could be seen, dimly lit. There was a steady hum of crickets chirping, but no movement otherwise.

The spirit tilted its head at her. “It’s too stuffy in here. Wouldn’t you prefer to go for a walk? Get some fresh air? Stretch your wings a bit? If you stay here, the boredom might kill you.” It cackled at its own bad joke.

Luna pondered for a moment. “Very well. I’ve nothing better to do.”

Luna soared through the night air, taking in the sights as she flapped her massive wings. All throughout Equestria, it was the same sight. It was dark and nopony was awake. Despite this, the magical cloud with a face kept following Luna.

“You know, it might be better if you didn’t dwell about it so much,” it said.

Luna remained quiet. Because she was immortal, she found it hard to get attached to any pony. Not that it mattered, since she rarely ever even saw one. All she had was her sister, but sometimes it felt like Celestia actively avoided her. Loneliness gripped her heart, and no matter what she seemed to do, the feeling never went away.

The spirit floated in circles around Luna’s head. “Must you really be so dreary all the time? At least you have your freedom. I, on the other hand, only exist in your head.”

Luna batted her hooves at the creature. “Yes, and you’re quite persistent too. Why won’t you go away?”

It shrugged. “You know, for somepony that’s lonely, you seem rather eager for me to go away.” It leaned close to Luna’s ear. “If you want, I could even be your friend. All you have to do is ask...” A maniacal laughter filled the air as it levitated in front of her face.

Luna paused. “Perhaps.”

“All you have to do is let me be your friend and I’ll make sure you’ll never be lonely ever again. Won’t that be fun?” It stopped in mid-air. “Well? Do you accept?”

Luna reluctantly said, “If you must.”

“Here we go!” Like a bolt of lightning, it darted into Luna’s mouth, surrounding her from the insides. Dark blue tendrils spread out from within the magical mane of Luna, flapping around in the wind. Luna felt a burning sensation fill her body. An echo of a voice continued in her head, “See? Just like that. Now we’re bonded forever!”

Luna wasn’t sure what to think, so she just shook her head. “I’m not sure if this was a good idea.”

“Nonsense!” the spirit reassured her. “Now let’s go have some fun!”

Party Rock Anthem

Twilight grins at me. “Another great party, Pinkie, as always.”

“Of course!” Oops, that sounds like bragging. “I’m just happy when my friends are happy.” Nice save! “And nothing says ‘happy’ like ‘party’!” Wait, that isn't true; parties can’t speak. Also, I can say “happy” pretty well. Can I say “happy” better than a party can? Eek, possibly. I won’t say so, though; no need to hurt its feelings.

Focus, filly! There’s drinks unfilled and games unplayed. Speaking of which, that there pardner just gone finished her vittles. Hee hee hee. Should I talk with an accent? Omigosh, I totally should! Gonna do it!

“Well howdy thar, missy,” I go ‘n’ say to that’n. “Don’tcha worry ya pretty lil’ head none, y’hear? Ah’ll getcha sum more them thar grub, faster ‘n you kin flog a walrus with a garden gnome.” Flawless.

“Uh.” Applejack stares at me and raises her eyebrow. She’s speechless! “You don’t think I actually sound like that, do ya?” Shoot. Oh well. Don’t give up, Ms. Pie! Practice makes perfect. Oops, she’s still staring.

“No-no-no, just practicing my voice acting.” That’s actually partially true. “Anywhozit, want another fritter?”

She’s smiling again. “Thank ya kindly, Pinkie. I’d love one.” Yes. That’s gotta be like plus-nine friendship points with AJ. At this rate I should still be able to unlock the Applejack Good End. I’ll get the fritter, and she can keep talking with those ponies. “So anyway, like I was sayin’, we’re puttin’ in a new retaining wall.” Limestone would probably be a good choice.

Huh? I shake my head. That was weird.

“Truth be told,” she continues while scratching her head, “I never built one before. I figure though, how hard can it be? Just gotta stack a buncha boulders, right?” Gravity walls are often effective for short-lived projects if constructed well. For projects that must stand the test of time, consider a cantilevered wall.

Okay. Random factoids in my head. Not gonna freak out! Random is normal, right? A day in the life of one Pinkamena Diane Responsibility Malory Pie. Fritter! Let’s get that fritter. Not gonna freak out.

“I’m glad you like it,” I hear Rarity say. Oops, I didn't say “hi” to her yet, have I? Okay, quick stop here, then fritter. That’s practically a checklist. Twilight would be so proud of me right now. Always the best party host, I is. Yes I is. “I decided to line the trim of my outfit with sapphires.” Half-carat each. Ten bits per stone. Southwest fields are your best bet. “And for the brooch here, I found this positively dazzling peridot.” Seventy-five carats, easily. Trillion facet cut. No visible inclusions from this far away.

My head hurts. I try to shake it clear. The kitchen. Fritters. An excellent host. Not gonna freak out. I pump my hoof and put on my “SRS BSNS” face. I can do this.

Twilight’s talking with her parents. “—and the Princess wanted me to study this interesting basalt sample she acquired from Mount Ponée.” An igneous rock containing less than twenty percent quartz. Can sell from anywhere between eight and fourteen bits per ton, depending on fragment size.

No! Make a break for the kitchen. It’s the only place left that’s safe. Run past the blaring speakers. I don’t see her, but I recognize Vinyl’s voice. “This music rocks!” Rock and roll: the music of Tartarus. It compels young colts and fillies to disrespect their parents and to have late-night tickle fights and to roll around in poison joke. Unsuitable music for harvest season.

I’m almost there. Almost where it’s safe. Dashie’s by the door. I know that I can trust her. “And then bam! We blast Discord with the Elements.” No. “Now’s he’s trapped in stone.” No-no-no. Dashie smirks at the other pony and puts on her sunglasses. “He’s shouldn’t have taken us for granite.”

I scream. I think I see Dashie start to gallop to my side before I pass out.

Stalking an Idol

From the moment she had spotted him, she immediately recognized who he was. He wore a ragged coat instead of his trademark uniform and a hat covered his mane. His hair was a lot whiter than in the pictures, but she knew it was him.

She slowly followed him as he made his way across town. His coat collar obscured his face. Suddenly, he stopped and looked around, but she had ducked behind a nearby haystack. She pushed her spiky orange hair back to make sure it wasn't poking out of her hiding spot and held her breath. Satisfied that he wasn't being followed, he pushed the door open into a nearby building. Letting out a sigh of relief, she continued stalking her prey.

Gently pushing the door open, she saw the stallion meander over to the end of a table. He barked an order for a drink and put his hooves behind his head. Taking small steps, she tiptoed over to where he was sitting. Scooting onto a nearby chair, she tapped him on the shoulder.

He looked over and grunted. "Whadda want, kid?"

"Excuse me sir, but could I have your autograph?" She placed her hooves together, a wide smile spreading across her face.

"Don't see why. I'm just an ordinary stallion,” he said as the waitress set his drink down. He stared towards his drink, gently flicking the straw back and forth.

"No, you're not. You're the legendary Cosmic Blaze! Performer of the Gallant Thomper and the former leader of the Wonderbolts!"

"Dunno whatcha talking about, kid."

"Oh come on! You look exactly like him! I know it’s you. Please, please, please?” she pleaded.

The stallion sighed and tipped his hat downwards. "I was trying to stay inconspicuous, but I guess it didn't work." He leaned backwards on his chair. "You got a pen?"

Grinning wide, the yellow pegasus pulled out a pen and a picture of Cosmic Blaze. She couldn't help but let out soft squee noises as he sighed his photo. When he gave it back to her, she clapped her hooves.

"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!" Her wings flared open.

Cosmic Blaze chuckled. "You must be a real big fan."

"Definitely! When I grow up, I'm gonna be a Wonderbolt! Maybe even captain!"

"Hmm..." He tipped his cup back and forth, watching the liquid slosh around inside. "You do, eh? Are you sure you have what it takes?"

"Of course!" The yellow pegasus jumped onto the floor and struck a pose.

With a grunt, Cosmic Blaze threw his head back and chugged the rest of his drink. He sighed and said, "Look, kid. That's nice and all, but being a member of the Wonderbolts is harder than it looks, let alone becoming Captain. Do you have any idea of how much I had to sacrifice in order to get where I did?" He looked at the filly who could barely contain herself. "It ain't easy. It's a lot of hard work."

"But it's worth it, right? To be one of the best, to inspire others, to achieve what only a few can?"

He looked out in the distance. "Not always." She tilted his head at him, so he continued. "Just... remember what's most important to you. If you want to be the best, you have to be prepared to sacrifice things. Lots of things. That takes a lot more than just wanting it. It requires luck, raw talent, and... something more."

The filly's eyes widened as she beamed. "I've got what it takes. “

“You’re just saying that. Everyone says that, but very few really do."

She shook her head. “No, I'm different from the others. I bust my hump everyday!”

Blaze raised an eyebrow at her. “Really? What are you doing to practice?”

"Everything! I've been training real hard everyday! Flying laps, doing wing-ups, eating healthy, the works! Just watch. Someday I’m going to be the leader of the Wonderbolts!"

"If you say so, kid." He gazed deep into her sparkling eyes and saw the passion of youth that he himself had so long ago. He chuckled. "Say Kid, what's your name?"

“Spitfire.”

“Spitfire, eh?" He leaned forward and placed his hooves on the table. "If your heart's that set on becoming a Wonderbolt, then let me give you some pointers."

Perchance

Derpy blasted through cloud ring after cloud ring. The pattern was complex, but she’d memorized it from her practice runs.

Left, left, right. Then a few in a loop. She whizzed through them, barely nicking a wingtip on the middle one. Didn’t even knock any of it loose. No way the judges noticed.

Easing into a straightaway section, she built up as much speed as she could before spreading her wings to slow through a hairpin turn downward. Her stomach lurched as she shot toward the ground. Quick pull-up at the bottom, two more rings, and... black cloud. Gotta go through those in the other direction. She reversed through it and shot straight up again.

Home stretch now. She followed a corkscrew pattern back down on an angle, the spirals continually tightening until she could feel the strain in her wing joints. She lacked the strength to accelerate anymore; it was all she could do to maintain a glide under these g-forces. After this many tight turns, her equilibrium was shot. She fixed her eyes on that puff of cloud rapidly spinning closer, finally bursting through it to loud applause.

“One minute, thirty-four seconds, no penalties!” called the announcer. “That’ll put Derpy in second place after our first event.”

She skidded to a halt on the landing area and stood there wobbling for a moment until she’d regained her balance. Wearing a wide grin, she trotted over to get a drink before the next event.

“Way to go, Derpy!”

“Yeah, good job!”

“Good luck!”

Derpy nodded back at each and closed her eyes. Though she was recovered from her flight, her pulse quickened a bit. It was... new. To do something right, be complimented, just once...

She found her spot for the second event and flapped off to a gray cloud marked with the same number fifteen that was pasted to her flank. A giant funnel hung beneath, draining into a large bucket with a line marked in yellow tape. She eyed the indicated level: three gallons, on the nose.

Rubbing a hoof on her chin, Derpy flitted around the cloud and viewed it from a few angles, calculation after calculation running through her mind. She’d have preferred to whittle it down to a nice cube, but it was deliberately shaped to make that strategy impossible. She sighed and gave a long, thoughtful stare to the cloud’s particular shade of gray. Brushing the wisps from its edges, she measured off a few hoof-widths along the edge and pulled a section free. She gave it a forceful snort, sending it sailing away.

Derpy raised the flag on her stall and waited for a judge to fly over. Glancing at the neighboring contestants’ clouds, she saw that each bucket had been assigned a different level. Clever precaution.

When the judge arrived, Derpy hopped onto the cloud, bouncing to squeeze out every last drop. After a few minutes, the trickle out of the funnel finally ended, and she flew down by the judge to see her result. She’d guessed a bit low, but the water level still sat within the tape’s width. A perfect score.

Forcing down her smile, Derpy proceeded with the judge out the far end of her stall, where a black cloud awaited. Hundreds of feet below, a target lay on the ground. She risked a glance at the scoreboard, which showed her currently in the lead.

Gulping down her nerves, she examined the cloud’s surface and selected a spot near the edge, punching a forehoof into the fluff. A lightning bolt shot downward, landing comfortably within the bullseye. She picked another point near the middle and punched again. Another top score, but barely—the black mark just grazed the center.

Last shot. One more bullseye would clinch the win.

This part of the cloud felt stable. She moved half a stride to her left and stomped with all fours. Dead center hit.

“Derpy has won this year’s Weather Games!” echoed the announcer’s voice, but it had taken on an odd, hollow quality.

Her eyes fluttered open as she looked up into Twilight’s face, the purple glow fading from her vision.

“Is that... what you wanted?” Twilight asked, her brow creased.

Derpy nodded and folded her ears back.

“But... you don’t look happy.”

Derpy sniffled and looked away. “I just... wanted to know... what it was like. For once.”

Frowning, Twilight asked, “What did you dream?”

Derpy shook her head, calling back as she trotted out the door, “N-nothing. Thanks, Twilight.”

A Terrible Mistake

“Read it... finished... done... completed...” Twilight shuffled the books around the library as she looked at the covers. Being a voracious reader, she quickly devoured all of the knowledge that the library had left to offer her. She tried to pick through the remnants once more time in an attempt to find a book she had missed, but it was turning futile. She triple-checked, but she was sure that she had read each and every book in the library already.

Expelling a breath of frustration, she threw her hooves up into the air. “Guess I’ll have to find books from somewhere else.” She tilted her head and stared at the ceiling. Suddenly, a thought came to her. The Canterlot Archives at the Palace!

She gathered a few snacks and levitated them into a bag. Flinging it over her shoulder, she called out, “Spike! I’m going out. Take care of the library while I’m gone, okay?”

“Will do, Twilight!”

Without another word, she flung open the front door and stepped out.

After being granted access by Celestia’s guards, she quickly made her way through the library. Most of the books were the same, but it had a bigger variety that the tiny library couldn’t hold. Tossing a few books into her bag, Twilight made her way down the library.

A dusty corner of the library caught her eye, causing her to stop. In the center was a thick black book on a mantle. Placing a hoof under it, she lifted it into the air. She took a deep breath and blew on the cover, scattering dust amongst the air. Several coughs later, she tried to read the title but found that it was blank. Her curiosity peaked, she flipped open the first page.

What she found were spells of various incantations. Things she couldn’t even dream of. A couple of the pages were faded and worn; some even had a foreign, unrecognizable writing drawled within them. With a scratch of her chin, she decided to take the book home and study it later.

After checking out the book some more, Twilight discovered a spell that might prove useful in a later battle against evil. Its purpose was to give the castee super strength. She decided to try it out on her friend, Rainbow Dash.

“Alright now. Stay still...” Twilight hooked a few gadgets onto Rainbow’s legs, all of which would monitor her for any changes.

“Are you sure about this, Twilight?”

“Of course! We must try out this spell... in the name of magic!”

“If you say so...”

Twilight flipped the switch on her machine. It rumbled to life, all of the cursors and meters coming to life. She checked the book one last time to make sure she was performing the spell correctly.

“Here goes!” She closed her eyes and concentrated.

"What have I done?!"

Twilight scurried around her lab, checking all of the read-outs spurting from her machines. Smoke billowed through the room, covering everything with a blinding fog.

"It wasn't supposed to turn out like this. This was a mistake. A huge mistake." She coughed several times. "Why did this have to happen?"

She walked over to a nearby desk and levitated out a book. Quickly flipping through the pages, she tried to steady her hooves. Her hair was frazzled; she took in deep breathes as she tried to calm herself. "I don't understand! I triple-checked everything. The calculations were perfect. What went wrong?"

Next to her on the metallic podium was a writhing mass of flesh, where her friend used to be. She flipped switches and pressed buttons, but nothing could reverse the process.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll make it better. I promise..."

She thought back to what had happened. As far as she knew, the spell worked perfectly at first. Rainbow was able to easily lift a nearby couch. Then, Twilight decided to add extra oomph to the spell. As the magic mixed with the previous spell, Rainbow slumped over. Suddenly, Rainbow started swelling up like a balloon until she popped.

Twilight slapped herself with a hoof. “Why did I think that would be a good idea? Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

Thinking hard, she remembered her time-travel spell. If she was to fix this grievous mistake, she’d have to act fast. Closing her eyes, she let her magic surround her. It built up, filling her insides like a cup, until finally she poofed from existence.

The Last Mug of Cider

Endless booze. Fountain upon fountain of limitless alcohol. Enough so every pony could be inebriated forever.

More cider than one could possibly drink.

A fool’s dream, ponies told him. The very notion of such an idea was absurd.

And he had made it a reality. Well, the two of them had. They had taken the impossible and laughed in its face all the way from Canterlot to Trottingham.

Sure, there had been hiccups. No fantasy made into reality can exist without them, but they had made it past every single hurdle fate had put in their way. Expect that one time in Ponyville, but that wasn’t important.

“Hey, Flim, are you okay?”

Flim sighed, letting his head drop. The beeping noise from the equipment in the room was very slowly grating his nerves. He blinked a few times, and turned to the voice.

“Yeah, just a bit exhausted, Flam. Hasn’t been easy sleeping lately.”

Flam hoofed his brother playfully in the shoulder. “Too busy brewing up some new treats, huh?” He gave a goofy smile.

Flim chuckled, “Nah, the brewing has been put on hold for a while. I just… can’t be around cider for a bit.”

Flam frowned, “We’ve talked about this, Flim. A lifetime of brewing cider comes with its risks and rewards.

Flim scoffed. “I think the situation is a bit past ‘risk’ now.”

“I couldn’t think of a better way to end it actually, Flim. Staying with one’s profession until the end is really something only a few ponies can brag about.”

Flim shrugged, shifting on his hooves awkwardly. “They haven’t told you anything new recently, have they?”

“No, they just avoid eye contact and refer to the chart. I’m sure nothing’s gotten any better.”

They both sat quietly, the only noise in the room being that of the vital monitor, and the low dim of other ponies yelling in the hallway several corridors away.

Flam’s smile faltered, “There’s nothing you can possibly do to change it now, Flim.”

“That’s exactly the problem, Flam, if I had done something sooner, maybe it would-“

“And what exactly would that be, Flim?” Flam asked, raising his voice. “Stop making cider? Stop drinking cider? Give up on the life we made for ourselves for something that we wouldn’t even be able to predict? We had a good run, pal, but jeez, considering what we have done in the past few decades, it’s a miracle both our organs haven’t become a blood/cider hybrid.” He shrugged, “I guess my body finally decided enough was enough.”

“I’m sorry, Flam.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. We’ve done what most ponies can barely dream about. Speaking of cider…” Flam reached over to the nightstand beside the bed.

“You’re not being serious, are you?” Flim looked at his brother inquisitively. “How did you manage to sneak that in here?”

Flam grinned, “Just because I’m dying doesn’t mean I still can’t sweet talk a pony.” He used his magic to levitate out two mugs.

“At this point, I’m starting to think you really are trying to kill yourself.” Flim took the mug in his hoof as Flam floated it over to him.

“This could be the last time we’re able to do this, brother of mine.” Flam toted the mug high in the air. "Might as well make the best of it. To a life with no regrets.”

Flim lifted his mug as well, “To a dream made possible.”

“To the best damn cider Equestria will ever see.”

“Cheers.”

“Cheers, brother.”

The mugs clunked together.

Pinkie Pie for Mayor!

Pinkie Pie barged into the library and asked, “Twilight, what’s a political party?”

Looking up from her book, Twilight replied, “It's a group of ponies that share the same idea of how everything should be run.”

Pinkie sat down, disappointed. “They shouldn’t call it a party if it’s not a real celebration. If I had a political party, we would actually do party things. We’d have cake and balloons and games and cake.”

“You said cake twice,” said Twilight.

Pinkie laughed. “Well, we’d have lots of it! Anyway, political parties should be fun.”

“The election is coming up for the mayor of Ponyville.” Twilight giggled. “If you want to make a fun political party, you should run for mayor.”

Pinkie gasped. “You’re a genius, Twilight! I love making ponies smile. It’s my greatest dream. Imagine how many ponies I could make smile if I were mayor! Chocolate fountains! Buildings made of cake! Candy cane streetlamps!”

“I was joking,” said Twilight. “You’re not seriously going to run for mayor, are you?”

“Of course I am!” shouted Pinkie, grinning. “There’s so much to do, I don’t even know where to start. See you later!”

Twilight sat stunned, her book forgotten. “In Celestia’s name,” she murmured as Pinkie ran out. “What have I done?”

Pinkie Pie began handing out fliers the next day. “Vote Pinkie, Get Free Cupcakes!” she said every time she gave away a flier. “It’s my slogan. Catchy, right? Nothing makes ponies smile like cupcakes. Except for parties, of course, and when I’m mayor I’ll start the best kind—a political party!”

Once the fliers were gone, Pinkie moved on to the second step of her plan.

“Vote for me!” she yelled out of the upstairs window of her house. (The house actually belonged to the Cake family, but Pinkie often forgot little things like that.) “As your mayor, I promise to do my best to make you smile.”

The final step of Pinkie’s plan was to stand on street corners and hand out cupcakes. “Just a taste of what Mayor Pinkie will do for you,” she explained.

Pinkie had been trying for an entire week to become mayor when a visitor appeared on her doorstep. (It was really the Cake family’s doorstep, but Pinkie never remembered such tiny details.) It was Mayor Mare, the mayor of Ponyville, and she wasn’t happy.

“Pinkie Pie,” she said, frowning. “You’ve been making promises you can’t keep.”

“I’ve what?” gasped Pinkie. “Mayor Mare, I always keep my promises. Always! A Pinkie Promise is never broken. I would never lie.”

Mayor Mare stopped frowning, and one corner of her mouth turned upward. “I didn’t say you’ve been lying,” she said. “You’ve just been making promises that are impossible for you to keep.”

“Like what?” demanded Pinkie.

“You promised to rebuild Ponyville with buildings made of cake,” said Mayor Mare. “Where would you get the money for a project like that?”

Pinkie paused to think, and realized she didn’t have an answer.

“When ponies ate up your buildings, how would you afford to keep building new ones?” asked Mayor Mare.

Pinkie said nothing.

“I know you love parties,” continued Mayor Mare, speaking kindly, “but political parties are different. They’re not fun and games. I won’t stop you if you keep trying to become mayor, but I don’t think you’ll be able to keep all your promises.”

“I don’t think so either,” said Pinkie. Her mane, usually so fluffy, drooped. After sniffing once and wiping her eyes, she added, “So much for Mayor Pinkie.”

“That’s what happened, Twilight,” said Pinkie later that day, looking around the library with tears in her eyes. “My dream was to make ponies smile, and I ruined it.”

Twilight gave her friend a gentle pat. “You’ve been disappointed, and that’s sometimes the price you pay for dreams. But you don’t have to give up your dream, Pinkie. You can’t make ponies smile as Mayor Pinkie, but can’t you make them smile as plain old Pinkie Pie?”

Pinkie thought about it. A smile dawned on her face, and her mane stopped drooping and fluffed up again.

“Do you know what we need, Pinkie?” asked Twilight. “A party, and not a political one.”

Pinkie laughed, her old self again, and said, “I think I can handle that.”

Step Aside

The sobs are muffled, quiet, but they still break through the silence of the cave, bouncing off the walls and morphing into a murmuring, discordant babble. Great, heaving breaths disrupt them intermittently as their source struggles for air.

She lies in the middle of one of the cave’s many cavities: a hollow sphere glistening with needle-like offshoots of dangling ice. Six stone balls roll in random motions round the floor, a slight, fading glow trailing after them in the air. They clink and clunk off of each other in their travels, the collisions never chipping or marring their surfaces.

A light-gold cloud envelops them, fixing them in place; an answering, conical blur of colour rises out of her forehead. White wings stretch out as she rises up, the balls floating into the air around her. She sniffs.

“It doesn’t have to be like this, you know.”

She takes a step back, eyes wide and roaming around as the balls fall heavily to the floor. Her wings flare up and out.

“It can all go back to how it was before right now. No need for any of this... waiting around nonsense.”

Her breathing’s faster now, and the whirling of her eyes is more erratic. The voice is orphaned – sourceless – and has an almost unnatural quality to it. Or perhaps it is the opposite: it sounds almost like the noise the waves and wind and thunder make. Like the sounds you think you hear inside of an empty silence.

“It’s a simple price to pay. I won’t ask for much, but in return you’ll get your sister back. Oh, and you’ll get her back before she became such a drag to deal with. Lovely Luna, all happy and untroubled.”

She’s staring at the farthest wall from her, the wall from which the voice now comes. There’s a knocking sound ringing off it, as if something is scrabbling behind the surface of a solid chunk of rock.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? That’s the dream? The great wish? The mightiest power in the world at your hooves, and all you want is the one thing they can’t give you. Well... Why not ask someone who can?”

The sniffling’s stopped, though her eyes are still wet. She takes a single step towards the wall, not noticing that the balls have vanished from the floor.

“I can give you what you want, Celestia, because I don’t have to abide by stupid, pointless rules. And all I want in return is a small favour. I’m not going to ask you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. In fact, I’m not asking you to do anything at all. That's – heh – that's actually the point.”

The cave’s wall peels off into a streaming rainbow of butterflies; a shadow is left behind in the gap carved out of reality. It smirks impossibly.

“All you have to do is step aside.”

Rainfall in Providence

Her Majesty strode to the veranda overlooking her garden plaza and courtyard. A fountain stood in the middle of the plaza, gently running bubbly white water over its mottled stone. Dark clouds blotted runs of sunlight from view. A steady assault of rain and bluster thundered, pounded, roared. She turned her back on the bushes and grasses driven and lashed by the weather.

She sighed. Something was missing, she knew. She had all she wanted: food, drink, and entertainment of every flavor; loving subjects, servants, and friends; everything that she could wish for…

In the midst of the sounds of wind and water from outside, she heard something peculiar. She heard laughter, a faint giggle borne from far away.

“Could it be?” she whispered.

“M’Lady,” came a small voice from behind her. “Atmos requests your presence.” Her Majesty turned to look at the mousy servant behind her. Sighing a second time, she rolled her eyes and nodded.

“Let him in, and he better have a good reason for scheduling a storm on our anniversary.” The servant only nodded and turned to open the door. Behind it, a tall stallion with a coat hued gold, blue, and pink-violet stood smiling.

“Darling—” he stated, stepping forward.

“Don’t start that with me. I want to know what that—” She gestured to the clime beyond her open window. “—is doing here, now of all times.” The stallion made as if to step closer, but instead he only smiled in the most pained expression.

“The North Wind has been dry for three months already. A sole gift of rejuvenating water has come today; without it, half the Earth Ponies’ crop would surely wither. Thousands would die when winter settles. I couldn’t allow that possibility, even for you, My Love.” She saw almost juvenile sincerity in his features. The Queen hazarded a flirty smirk.

“Okay, then,” she said. “I’ll forgive you.” She stretched out her wings and stepped toward him. “I’ll forgive you if you first catch me.” She feinted a jump over him, but instead turned sharply and galloped out the window, into the rain, into the wind, into the storm. Smiling broadly, bracing himself, he bounded out to join her. The two weaved about, dodging trees and plants and shying from the occasional thunder. With a wet smack and a sonorous thud the two were left sprawled in the mud.

“Oh no! Oh Dear!” the mare cried mockingly. “What are we going to do with you?” She pounced on her lover, and they rolled about, slinging muck and water every which way.

Stopping to take a breath, lying with her under the rainfall, he asked, “Am I forgiven now?”

“Oh, not yet,” she answered, sporting that coy smile that strummed his heart.

“No fair, I’ve caught you—“

“I said first you had to catch me. There’s one more thing…”

“Celestia, a name for the gods,” the Queen whispered. She lay in a cot, exhausted, midwife by her side. A white foal lay beside her, shivering in a shaky slumber.

“We must put her to walking as soon as possible, Ma’am,” said the midwife firmly.

“Just a moment longer. I just— I just want to look at her once more.” The Queen looked up. “A horn. She has a horn. What does this mean?” The midwife shook her head slightly, but the new mother had already closed her eyes and fallen asleep.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly to herself.

“I am sorry, Mother, Father.”

“Sister!” Luna watched helplessly as her elder sibling glared down at their parents, full power of the Sun behind her, flowing through her, glowing in her eyes. She saw the mark seared into her sister’s flank.

“I dreamt one day of a beautiful daughter,” started the Queen, maintaining the regal air about her, even with her and her King sprawled bleeding together on the floor of Cloud Temple. “Remember, whatever happens to you, that you’ve never once disappointed me.”

Celestia bowed her head, her expression unchanged.

Luna shut her eyes against the fire, the bright, the fear, the burning. The clouds beneath their feet parted, and they fell; far, far down they fell. Latching onto her sister, Luna shut her eyes to the pain, the mark in her flesh forbidding her reentrance into Providence. The princesses fell—exiles, murderers, enemies to the gods—to the Lands Below, the Chaos.

Two dreams fell from heaven.

Pancakes and Apples

My eyes open.

I am lying in my bed; sheets and comforter both caress me warmly. Shaking off the linens, I stand and a stretch out my limbs. I yawn once, a long, drawn-out yawn, and then head downstairs.

My family is sitting at the table. Breakfast has already been made, and they are waiting on me. Usually I'm the first one up, odd. I decide to ignore that thought and say good morning to Apple Bloom instead.

“Mornin', Apple Bloom; thanks fer the breakfast,” I say, only—no words come out. Instead, I hear nothing. I try to speak again and find that my mouth is closed. My hoof subconsciously moves to mouth. There's nothing there. I try to speak, but again—no words.

My eyes widen and I begin panicking. I look around frantically. Apple Bloom's head tilts and she gives me a funny look.

“Yer actin' kinda weird, sis,” she says.

“Weirder than a rattlesnake in a pickle barrel,” adds Granny Smith.

“Eeyup,” chimes in Big McIntosh.

“Y'all don't see what's happened?” I ask, knowing they can't hear me. But they do, and so do I. I open and close my mouth a few times and see that it seems to be fine. My mind races. “What was that?” I ask out-loud.

“What was what?” asks Twilight.

“Yeah, I didn't see anything,” adds Rainbow.

“Dear, I think you may need some rest,” says Rarity.

Apple Bloom, Big McIntosh, and Granny Smith stand in front of me with concerned looks upon their faces. Apple Bloom approaches me, holding a plate with a giant stack of pancakes. “Here,” she offers one of the pancakes to me, “take one of these. You'll feel better, I promise.”

“They'll totally make you feel better,” snorts Pinkie.

I take one of the apples carefully. Holding it up in the light, I can't see anything wrong with it; it's unbruised and perfectly green. I bite into the red delicious, feeling the warm juices spray across my lips. It tastes like iron.

Sticky red fluid drips from my mouth as I look at the heart. There is a large bite taken out of one ventricle, but it continues to beat—slowly, rhythmically. It emits a wet, thudding sound as I drop it to the ground. The apple rolls away, leaving a trail of blood.

I take a few steps back before bumping into something. I turn around to see Apple Bloom holding a plate of pancakes, a red smile across her face.

“Feel better, sis?” asks Fluttershy.

I back away again, slipping on some apple juice. As I land on the ground Granny Smith appears above me. Her head is turned all the way around, and her neck sticks out an odd angle.

“Don't hurt yourself now, dearie,” she laughs, her neck cracking as her head begins to spin around.

I scramble to my hooves and see Apple Bloom holding a plate of red delicious. “What's wrong?” she asks. “Didn't ya like my pancakes?” She offers me another apple.

I can see a gaping hole on the left side of her chest. She holds the apple out to me. It beats methodically. I knock the heart from her hoof, sending it flying across the room. It hits Big McIntosh in the chest, causing him to stumble backwards.

I rush over to him and see that he has a dark red spot, darker red than normal, on his chest. He moans as I pull the knife from his ribs.

“Eeyup,” he replies.

I toss the knife away.

“Watch where you're throwing those,” says Twilight, wagging her hoof.

“Twi, what's happening?” I ask frantically.

“Nothing,” she responds.

“I—I don't understand.”

“Understand?” asks Rainbow.

“Who said anything about understanding?” says Apple Bloom.

“Here,” she says, offering me a pancake. “These'll make you feel better.” Rarity holds out a dripping red apple. I clench my eyes shut and fall to the ground. I pull my hooves in close and rock back and forth.

My eyes open.

I am lying in bed; sheets and comforter both caress me warmly. I shake off the linens. They feel heavier than normal. I look down at my sheets and see dark red splotches all over them. My heart stops. I close my eyes.

My eyes open.

I am holding an apple.

Thirty Dollars

“Step right up, step right up, ladies and gentlemen, for the journey of a lifetime! See the wonders, the grandeur, the magic of Equestria, all for the low, low price of a mere, paltry, pathetic thirty dollars!”

Bjorn’s legs were pumping like pistons as he raced up to the entrance of the Ponytorium. The announcer, a ginger-mustached fellow dressed in an outfit not dissimilar from Flim and Flam’s in season two, episode fifteen, smiled broadly as he skidded, panting into the front of the line. Bronies behind him groaned loudly and muttered curses. Breathing heavily, Bjorn pumped a fist in the air.

“Looks like you’re out first customer today, sir,” the Flim—or was it Flam?—looking person said. “Do you have your thirty dollars?”

Bjorn did—the notes were crumpled in his sweaty palm. He thrust them into the man’s face, much to the latter’s distaste.

“Alrighty then! You can go in. Enjoy Equestria!”

Bjorn leapt through the door in an instant. He was so excited. He’d never been this excited. Soon, very, very soon, he’d get to meet all his favourite ponies in the magical land of Equestria. There was one pony in particular he was really looking forward to meeting.

Some official, smart-looking people in labcoats greeted Bjorn and strapped him into a chair. They buzzed around him, setting up various pieces of equipment and tying things to his arms and legs. He thought he heard one or two of them ask him something, but he was far, far too excited to speak.

Before long, he smelled a sweet, overpowering scent, and everything went dark.

Bjorn opened his eyes again. Big lavender irises greeted his eager gaze. He nearly fainted.

“Hello there!” Twilight said enthusiastically. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up!”

When he hear Twilight’s voice, Bjorn did faint. His head flopped to the side and his tongue lolled out of the corner of his mouth.

“Hey?” Twilight asked, concerned. “Are you okay?” She poked him in the arm, and then started shaking him, but got no response.

“It’s happened again,” Nurse Redheart droned. “I don’t know why, but these creatures keep appearing here, and they keep doing this. It’s like there’s something about being in Equestria that just makes them go completely catatonic.”

Twilight frowned and lowered her gaze to the floor. “It’s really upsetting. If only one of them would just stay awake long enough for us to find out what they are and why they keep coming here...”

Redheart and Twilight stood in silence for a moment, before the former suddenly brightened up. “Look on the bright side,” she said, pushing against one of Bjorn’s arms. “As I always say, the way they stiffen up makes them excellent coatracks.”

Twilight’s eyes remained hard. “But Redheart,” she replied gravely, “Rarity’s running out of coats to hang up.”

Poachers

Deep in the colourful rolling mists of Dream Valley, Gonzo the Griffon and I sat with our backs to a rock and plotted our course. That we had waited until this late moment to do so perturbed me greatly, but he was in the one in charge.

"Now here's what we're gonna do, dollface," he said, smirking. "You're gonna use that pretty little horn of yours to light up some of them gems under that there ground, so we all can see them all clearly like. As I explained before, the little critters love gems. A nice lightshow'll bring them here in droves."

I shivered at the tone of his voice, but nodded my compliance. "And if I do what you ask, then you'll let my sister go free?"

"I guarantee it, little lady."

There was no worth in his guarantees, but having one was better than having nothing. "Very well then."

My shaking forehooves clasped the top of the rock we stood behind, and I peered at what little ground I could see through the mists. There was a patch of bare earth just ahead of us, and even before my spell was cast, something deep inside me already knew of the gems buried beneath it.

I took a few deep, measured breaths, calming myself and focusing my energy in the way my mother taught me. My horn glowed with its gem-locating spell, and soon the earth before me was alight with the brilliant reds, greens and blues beneath it.

"Good, good," I heard Gonzo say behind me. "Our little friends should be here any moment now."

Eyes peeled, I focused on the glowing ground.

"Any moment now. Keep the magic steady."

A current of mist drifted over the glowing ground, and then something quite peculiar happened. The current seemed to break off from the rest of the mist and hover for a moment as a lonely cloud. It grew more and more opaque, and its hazy edges became defined. The mist drifted down to the ground and took the form of a little round creature with four stubby legs. It hopped animatedly around the glow beneath it. I swear I could hear it whooping and chirruping.

"Excellent. An a-grade for sure." In the corner of my vision, Gonzo's wings unfurled. He clutched a fine net between his talons. "Three... two... one..."

With astounding speed, Gonzo leapt into the air and pounced, his net ensnaring the helpless little creature between my startled blinks. It yelped for an instant before falling silent.

The creature hadn't any eyes, but it felt like its back was staring right at me, with my glowing horn and wide-eyed stare. I shivered.

Gonzo stuffed the net in a pack on his back before grabbing my forehoof with a rough talon. "Mission accomplished. Now we go."

With a mighty flap of his wings, Gonzo lifted up into the sky, muffling my screams with his other talon.

Sweetie Belle had been under a sleep spell the entire time. The poor dear woke up in her own bed the next morning, completely unaware of what she had been through. When she looked at the calendar, she wondered at having missed two days, but I told her she was just being silly. I don't think I was very convincing.

I was relieved that Gonzo had kept his word. Neither he nor his associates had laid a talon or a hoof on Sweetie Belle, and true to their word, they released her once I had fulfilled the task given to me.

Still, a criminal is a criminal. Gonzo had the nerve to offer me a position as his full-time partner. He just chuckled when I didn't even dignify such a request with a response.

The little creature from Dream Valley was sold to a pair of shady unicorns in dark suits and even darker glasses, probably for an exorbitant fee. I try not to think about the part I've played in all of this. At least Sweetie is safe.

I think I should at least tell my friends about what's happened--maybe just Twilight. But I'm scared. Gonzo's still out there, and he's got ears everywhere.

Or maybe it just feels like he does. I keep seeing him around town, but he disappears as soon as I blink. It's probably the sleep deprivation.

I haven't been able to sleep a wink since I helped captured that little mist creature in Dream Valley.

Sacrifice

Sometimes I wonder if things would be different.

If we had not done we did that day.

If we had found another way.

Inevitably, my mind drifted back to that climatic day three thousand years ago.

The day when Discord was supposed to have his greatest triumph over the forces of Order. He had assembled his armies in plain view of the last bastion of freedom, Everfree Castle. Foul beings, every one of them: windigoes, timber wolves, chaotic shades. There was no doubt in anypony’s mind that his armies would prevail that day.

But for one desperate plan.

“Celestia, are you ready?” my liege spoke, his charcoal black eyes studying my every move.

“I am, my king.”

“Remember, you two are the focus: the most important part of the link. If you falter, then all of Equestria is lost.”

I glanced back at the castle courtyard. The entirety of Equestria’s remaining alicorns was gathered here today. Here and there, I could glimpse the frightened civilians huddling behind whatever shelter they could find.

My sister spoke, “Do not fret, my liege. This plan will… must succeed.”

“Very good. Then let us not waste any more time. You know what to do.” I watched as the last reigning monarch of alicorns turned his back; the memory of his silvery coat and electric blue mane forever etched in my mind.

The sizzle of magic meeting magic erupted overhead. The siege has begun. Wordlessly, I nodded at Luna and began ascending the steps to the very top of the tower. A golden platform awaited us, shaped in the way of a six-pointed star. A dais holding a gem adorned each corner: each representing the Elements critical to our desperate plan.

The magic shield broke. We stepped onto the platform. Screams of pain and the sounds of weapons clashing erupted. Our pegasi and earth ponies allies would not last long.

I took a deep breath, and activated the machinery with a small surge of magic. Then I heard our liege speak, one last time:

“Discord will be stopped. Brothers and sisters, this is your day. Our day! Onwards to victory!”

The crackle of magic in the air intensified. The gems suddenly flared brilliantly into life, floating slowly off the dais that held them. I could feel the energies that were being channelled through, tasting each as they filtered through.

Kindness.
Laughter.
Generosity.
Honesty.
Loyalty.
Magic.
Harmony.

Then everything exploded in a flash of brilliant white.

It was the voice of my sister who greeted me when I regained my senses.

“Good to see you again, sister. I had feared the worst when I first set eyes on you.”

The memories flooded back. I sat up quickly, and was greeted by a sight that would haunt me to this day. Where lush plains and forest used to exist, grey ash-filled wasteland remained. The castle was in ruins, nothing more than a smoking shell. Of the ponies that had once been my brethren in the courtyard, only charred remains marked their existence.

“I fear the price is just as we feared. But do not lose hope. For we have accomplished what we came for. Look.”

And amongst the rubble, I could spy the survivors of the holocaust. The ponies we have sworn to protect.

“Tia, are you lost in your memories again?” the soft voice of Princess Luna said.

I shook my head slowly. “I suppose I was.”

“Do you think it was worth it?”

I glanced out at the window, the bustling city of Canterlot filling the view.

“We fulfilled our dreams, did we not?”

Restoration

Cold, hard light rains down from the florescent tubes hanging overhead. They bathe the entire laboratory in a bleak glow. They bathe my laboratory in a bleak glow.

I can't help but notice the one flickering light above me as I walk down one of the many rows of giant, water-filled, glass tubes. That will need to be fixed, I think.

In fact, this whole place could probably do with a little TLC. I had spent the better part of a year down here, but I had yet to finish my experiment. I was close, oh so close, but not quite there.

Originally, I had tried to recreate them from scratch; start with a blank slate, as it were. I glance to my right. My failures stare back at me. I shake my head. It was a shame I had wasted so much time on such a futile effort, and only to produce these... abominations.

They often had extra heads, legs, tails, horns, wings, eyes, snouts, even one with an extra brain, but no extra head. That one was rather fascinating. I tried to save it so that I could study the effects of—what presumably would turn into—hyper-intelligence. However, it—unfortunately—perished shortly after birth. It was quite a shame. Such opportunities don't come along all that often.

In any case, they were still excellent learning devices if nothing else. Were it not for them, I doubt I would have come as far as I have. Through them, I discovered that I needed a fully-grown host to start the process. An empty tube and a handful of cells won't do the trick. No to bring them back I needed living subjects.

Though that brought its own challenges to the table. I had to find living subjects first. Ones who were willing to be part of my research. As it turns out, no one was willing to volunteer. So I was forced to resort to rather drastic measures.

I only kidnapped a few at first, just five because I, foolishly, believed that would be all I needed. A month later I was fresh out of test subjects, but filled with more failures. Failures though they were, they did bring me that much closer to finally finishing.

I had successfully managed to replicate their basic features, minus a few minor hiccups such as missing eyes and such, but they still weren't perfect.

For example, I used an earth pony when trying to replicate a pegasus—and that hadn't worked quite as well as I had hoped. Rather than growing wings, like I had hoped, they grew these sickening, fleshy, masses that, if you looked at them right, kind of resembled wings.

Close, but not good enough. Of the five, four survived the first day, and only two the second day. By the end of the week. they had all passed. Regrettable as their deaths were, they were all necessary losses in the pursuit of something greater.

The next batch I brought in fared much better since by that time I, for the most part, knew what I was doing. I matched them up, pegasi to pegasi, unicorn to unicorn, and earth to earth. Finally, after much tweaking and fine-tuning I had managed to bring them back. Still though, my joy was short-lived as the subjects, again, died within the week.

I have to admit, I was angry. Over forty-six weeks of work lost because of their inability to cope. I was furious, but, as I said before, no loss is without a lesson. Through their deaths, I unlocked the secret to keeping them alive.

By the time I had acquired a few more subjects, I had already unfrozen their bodies. The accident had really done a number on them, but I was able to keep them mostly intact. Lifeless though they may be, I was still able to preserve their spirit.

Souls, apparently, were the missing element in my subjects. Well obviously they had their own souls, but they were not the souls I needed, so I had removed them. It's funny that I didn't see it before. It all seems so obvious now.

Now here I stand. My dream of restoring them about to come to fruition. In front of me are five tubes, five ponies, five Elements, five friends.

“Don't worry,” I whisper. “You'll be back soon.”

A Sister's Pride

Jumbled conversations died away as the house lights dimmed, leaving only a few hurried whispers and polite coughs. From the side of the auditorium, a stallion decked out in coat and tails made his way to the conductor’s podium below the stage. As one, the musicians sat up a little straighter in their seats, eyes glued to their leader. Levitating a baton from his pocket, he tapped it against the podium, then held it aloft for a few long seconds.

Finally, he stroked the downbeat. Launching into a rousing overture, the violins blazed along, punctuated with the occasional brass fanfare. His baton bobbing to the beat in midair, the conductor cued the flutes, then ordered the percussionists to quiet down a bit. As the music reached its closing crescendo, the entire orchestra sustained the last note until he slashed a hoof downward for the hard final drumbeat.

The audience sat in rapt silence, disturbed only by the rustle of sheet music. When the conductor held his baton up again and started a playful melody, the heavy curtain parted, and a spot lit center stage, tracking an elegant dancer across the scenery.

Apple Bloom’s hooves carried her deftly over the wooden flooring. She leapt and strutted on her hooftips, executing knee bends and twirls throughout the plywood forest. Her pulse quickening, she made a few spinning jumps to cross the stage. Each successfully landed brought a little more curl to the corners of her mouth until she wore a broad grin.

Her initial jitters had turned to an electric tingling. Wide eyes and creased brow had given way to a fierce smile. No more foalish nerves. This moment was hers. After months of practice, execution wasn’t a question; only the options of spectacular or legendary remained.

From the opposite end of the stage, a stallion entered, glancing around the clearing. Finally noticing Apple Bloom, he never let his gaze waver from her as he slid noiselessly from tree to tree, his mouth hanging agape.

Apple Bloom turned a shoulder, most definitely not noticing the handsome stranger, as she frolicked among a cluster of flowers. From the corner of her eye, she saw him emerge from his cover and approach little by little. At the last moment, she turned to meet his stare, her ears pricking and her eyes sparkling. They locked hooves and spun through the glade until their momentum carried them apart.

She charged back toward him, gaining speed until she took a flying leap into his outstretched hooves. Lifting her up, he spun her around and around until he lowered her to the ground, bent over her in a tender kiss. Her cheeks had long since flushed when he looked up in praise to the sky, but... she didn’t rise.

The stallion collapsed to the stage, bitter tears coursing down his cheeks as the orchestra struck a final dissonant chord.

Her eyes finally opening to the thunderous applause, Apple Bloom stood among the rain of roses. She had looked to her sister’s tear-streaked face in the front row when a flash of light caught her attention. She glanced along her side and saw... a cutie mark? A ballet slipper!

“Ahem”

Apple Bloom shook the fog out of her head and looked up at the hoof tapping on her desk and its owner’s frown.

“That’s detention, young filly,” Cheerilee said.

“We’re going to fix up some of the playground equipment,” Cheerilee explained. “I’ll paint the swingset. Why don’t you pull those old boards off the playhouse? Then you can go home.”

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes and trudged off. Better to get it over with. She had all the half-rotted boards removed within minutes, then looked with a growing smile at the hammer. This wasn’t so bad. In less than half an hour, she had the whole exterior rebuilt, with a fresh coat of paint to boot. Applejack had just arrived to walk her home when Apple Bloom grinned and flicked a nod at the finished product. She jerked her head toward a sudden itch on her side. A cutie mark? A hammer and board!

“Caw!”

Applejack’s eyes shot open to see the crow hopping around beside her. Her dreamy smile fading, she whipped her head around at all the apple-filled trees.

“Apple Bloom!” she shouted, her voice echoing throughout the nearby hills. She tried again, but gritted her teeth. That filly was long out of earshot by now.

“You get back here and finish your work!”

Yearning for Something More

“Let’s begin. With a one and a two...”

Octavia played along to the instruction of her music teacher, Miss Chords, going through the motions as she played her recited song on her cello for the hundredth time. She tried to stifle a yawn, but her hooves were preoccupied. Instead, she looked out the window.

Outside, the sun shone brightly and the birds chirped, but she was stuck inside, doing something she didn't really love. She tried to pay attention to her lessons, she really did. An uneasy feeling lay in the pit of her stomach, interrupting her thoughts. She couldn't put her hoof on it, but she felt like doing something more with her life. If anything, she wanted to try something new.

“Octavia.”

Her playing had slowed down; Her mind wandered. She was always told what to do, where to go, how to act, but she just wanted to be free for once.

“Octavia?”

Everything in her life was already scheduled for her in advance. Once she was done with music lessons, she would go home and learn more lessons in etiquette as well as more practice with various musical instruments. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with her life, but this wasn’t it.

The loud slap of a ruler against the desk brought Octavia back to reality. She jumped as her heart leapt into her throat. Her hooves slipped and she dropped her cello. Bowing and muttering an apology, she scrambled to pick up her instrument and continue.

Miss Chords chuckled. "Is something wrong, Octavia?"

"No, no. It's nothing." Octavia looked at her hooves.

Miss Chords raised an eyebrow, but beckoned towards Octavia's instrument. "Please continue, then."

Octavia hesitated. "May I ask you a question first?"

"Go ahead."

"Do you like playing music?"

Turning her snout up, Miss Chords said, "Liking it or not is irrelevant. It is my job, and therefore I must perform regardless of whether or not I like it."

"Haven't you... ever dreamed of doing something else?"

Miss Chords paused. "Well... when I was a young filly, I had a dream but that was a different time. I was young, naive, and stupid."

"What was it?"

Momentarily hesitating, she whispered, "I wanted to run a business selling fruit."

"What happened?"

"I realized that it was a lot more work than I thought, and so I ended up quitting.” Miss Chords put a hoof to her chin. “Although I have to admit, it was a fun experience at least. Why do you ask?”

“Oh. No reason.” With a sigh, Octavia continued her lessons.

Octavia approached her dad as he was reading the newspaper in the dining room. “Dad? Do you think I could skip music lessons for today and go out?”

He folded his newspaper down and looked her in the eye. “No, Octavia. It’s important to always practice. Idle hooves are the devil’s playthings.”

“It won’t hurt to miss one lesson, will it? Besides, I just want to see what Canterlot looks like.”

He flipped his newspaper back and continued reading. “I said no. You can go some other time.”

“But you always say that! When am I ever going to have fun?” she whined.

"Octavia. Stop this foolishness. You're a proper high-class pony and you're going to act like one!"

"But dad..."

"No buts, young lady. Now be quiet and keep practicing."

“Okay...” she said, hanging her head.

“But Dad, I don’t want to play music. I want to become an magician!”

“Octavia, please. You don’t know what you want. The reason I made you practice and hired all those tutors was so that you’d become one of the best.”

Octavia stomped her foot and looked the other way.

“Look at me, young lady.”

Reluctantly, she did.

“Octavia, please give up this silly dream of yours. Being a magician is a hard life. The pay isn’t steady and you won’t be able to support yourself on your own.”

“Yes, I can! Just watch me!”

He lifted her chin with a hoof and glared into her eyes. “Young Lady, I command you to give up this foolish pursuit right now. It will only end up hurting you.”

“You’re not being fair!” Water welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. She tried to wipe them away, but they kept coming. Turning on her heel, she stumbled out of the room.

Her dad's eyes softened and he sighed. “Trust me, Octavia. This is for the best.”

What If Rainbow Wasn't Fast Enough?

Rarity screamed; She plummeted downwards, her legs flapping in the wind. Quick as lightning, the three Wonderbolts in attendance zoomed towards her, but her flailing kicks knocked them in the face, causing them to fall unconscious.

The scream caught Rainbow Dash’s attention, and she stopped in mid-flight. “Hold on, Rarity! I’m coming!” Spinning around, she took off towards Rarity.

Her wings held close to her body, Rainbow Dash dived. Thrusting both hooves outward, the air resistance pushed against her body.

Glancing around frantically, she noticed the group of ponies heading towards the ground with increasing speed, but no matter how fast she went, she couldn’t seem to catch up.

“Just a little more... I can make it...”

The three Wonderbolts and Rarity sped towards the ground, landing with a sickening crunch.

"No-no-no-no! This can't be happening!"

Rainbow stared at the bodies below her. The ground raced towards her, threatening to embrace her with a lethal impact. Rainbow closed her eyes as she continued to fall.

Suddenly, her body stopped in mid-air. She tentatively opened an eye, and saw that she was several feet off the ground. A purple magical aura surrounded her and gently lowered her to the ground.

“Rainbow! Are you o—” Twilight ran up towards her, but stopped at the sight of Rarity. She turned and threw up into the nearby bushes.

Rainbow hovered over her friend. "Rarity! Don't worry, we can fix this. Twilight can make you better. She has to!"

"Rainbow. It's too late."

"No..."

“It’s your fault, Rainbow. You weren’t fast enough. You weren’t good enough,” a voice boomed.

Rainbow Dash opened her eyes and found herself floating in white space. A mysterious cloaked figure floated nearby, pointing a hoof at her.

“If it wasn’t for you, she never would have went to Cloudsdale. Then she would have never entered the competition that led to her death.”

Rainbow Dash shook her head. “No! That's not true!”

“Isn't it? She went there to support your dream of impressing the Wonderbolts. But you weren’t good enough to save her.”

“No! No, I didn't force her to enter. I didn't force her to fly too close to the sun. I...”

“Stop making excuses to yourself. Because of you, four ponies died. Join the Wonderbolts? Ha! You don’t even deserve to fly after what you did.”

Rainbow Dash hung her head in silence.

“This wasn’t the only time that you endangered your friends. “What about Fluttershy? You almost killed her too, remember? Remember when you were a filly and you knocked poor Fluttershy out of the sky? She could have died, you know?

“I didn't know! I didn't see her fall.”

“No matter what you do, you always seem to bring trouble to those you love. You're too careless, Rainbow Dash. Can't you see that if you don't shape up, you're just going to keep hurting those close to you?” The figure hovered closer until it was a foot away. ”Maybe it would have been better if you never existed at all. You just seem to cause more and more pain.”

“No! Stop spouting lies!”

"But Rainbow Dash, it's true. Why else do ponies keep getting hurt around you? Perhaps you should start taking yourself more seriously. If you keep messing around, your friends are just going to keep getting hurt.” The figure reached a hoof towards Rainbow Dash. “

“No! Stay away!” Rainbow Dash waved her arms around frantically, trying to escape but she only stayed in place. His hoof drew closer and closer.

“Never forget, Rainbow Dash. Never forget...”

His hoof grabbed her shoulder.

Rainbow Dash woke up screaming. Sweat dripped down her forehead, the bed soaked from cover to cover.

“Rainbow Dash? Rainbow, it’s okay. You just had a nightmare,” said a familiar voice.

Rainbow took a deep breath, and looked around. Each of her five friends were next to her.

“Rarity!” Leaping from the bed, Rainbow Dash pounced on Rarity.

“Oh my. What’s gotten into you, dear?” Rarity squirmed.

“You’re okay? Seriously? Everything’s perfectly fine?” Rainbow lifted her forelegs one by one, as she looked Rarity over for any injuries.

Rarity blushed, and pushed Rainbow away. “Now see here. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I’m perfectly fine.” She brushed herself off. “Really now.”

As her friends looked at each other in confusion, Rainbow Dash sighed in relief. But worry tugged on the back of her mind. What if she wasn’t good enough to save her friends next time?

One Last Try

Redheart’s got some real brass ones showing his face around here.

There’s only two things a stallion can do to get looks like he does, the first one being snatching another stallion’s drink. Ain’t never seen a cold blooded runt more wicked.

Just look at him there, all cosy’d up in his thick leather jacket. You know a stallion’s up to no good when he brings a suit for a trip to the bar.

I hope for his sake he’s got spares.

“Your tab’s overdue, Red, long overdue, but you got money for suits?”

The barkeep stares him down with that long barkeeper’s face, eyes so tired that they don’t bother blinkin’ half the time no more.

A doll comes in just in time to save Red from that same old conversation, but he knows she sure as sugar won’t cause no trouble herself.

“What’re ya havin’, darlin’?”

“Beer.”

She gives the barkeep a cute little wink and nod, and he gets them each a schooner.

“I never seen you smile, Hops. Could do yourself some good once in a while,” she says to the barkeep.

“I ain’t never smiled in a hundred years, lassy,” he says, with as minimal facial movement as a stallion could even make. He dejectedly hands it over.

Redheart takes a good mouthful of the stuff.

“Takes a lot of guts to show yourself ’round these parts.”

He stares her down absently, then takes another mouthful. He knows what’s coming next.

“I know what you did, and I just want to say, that you’re a god damn bastard.” She slaps him right across the face. It connects with a right smack, the flat hoof gleaming right off of his cheek.

He takes the hit without much of a flinch. He just looks at her, then takes the last mouthful. A stallion’s gotta wonder what it takes for a dame to buy someone a drink just to slap him.

His face is as flat as a wall, and his eyes are as sharp as a blade.

“You best watch yourself on the way home tonight, lassy.”

The pallor comes right off her face; she’s as white as a ghost. Ain’t nothin’ left to do but run on out of there, wailing like a ghost.

Redheart takes a good look at his glass, like he’s gonna find something. There ain’t nothing there, nothing but his big ugly mug lookin’ right back at him.

By the time he’s done lookin’ at the glass, the dame’s back, bringin’ along with her big old Wedges. Wedges ain’t much of a fighter, but he sure has the pounds to send any pony flying half-way to Appleoosa when they get on his nerves. And I’m thinking little boy Redheart might just’ve done it.

“You threatening my mare, pretty boy?”

Redheart leans down to get a closer look at the glass.

Wedges gets flustered and goes to grab him. “Answer me, pretty boy!”

As his hoof make contact with the suit, Redheart springs into action so quick that my eyes don’t even catch it. All I see is the aftermath, Wedges hoppin’ around and flipping his wrist about like a loony

“Ahh! My fuckin’ hoof! Fuck! Ahhh!”

Wedges may be a dumb stallion, and he may sure well be a whole lot drunk, but that don’t mean he’s stupid enough to escalate. Well, I figured it wouldn’t be. Ain’t so sure no more.

Wedges grabs Red’s glass. “You fuckin’ cunt!” He tries to smash it over the other bloke’s head. Sure was a big mistake for Wedges, because that glass ended up right in his neck.

Wedges goes down like a sack of bricks. Red’s face ain’t so flat no more either. He’s red as a tomato.

“Anyone else?”

The noise in the bar drop to a murmur.

“Anyone else?!”

Then, complete silence.

“I’m a fucking hero. And this is what I get. This is what I get for doing what’s right. You’re all living corpses, living corpses doing what the head dead man tells you to do.” He spits on the dirty floor. "None of your are worth half a shit to anyone."

He storms out of the pub with a passionate fervour. It’s inspiring in a way.

But then again, he’ll be back next week.

Hearth's Warming Cards

“Apple Bloom?” Big Macintosh stomped into the kitchen, shaking snow from his mane and holding a letter in his teeth. “Mail’s here.”

The young Apple mare looked up from her bowl of hot vegetable stew. “More holiday cards, I reckon?”

He nodded and, in his usual way, said no more than necessary. “Scootaloo.”

Her eyes bulging, Apple Bloom leapt up and snatched the letter. With clumsy eagerness, she tore away at the useless exterior and extracted the gold within. Her eyes burned through line by line, and soon, they leaked salty tears.

“How is she?”

“Great,” said Apple Bloom, smiling and wiping her eyes clear. “More ‘n great! She an’ the Wonderbolts are puttin’ on a two-week show out in Fillydelphia. I’m mighty proud of her.”

“Eeyup.”

“I mean,” she said while fidgeting her hooves, “she made it. She’s living her dream.”

“I can’t do it.”

“Aww c’mon, Skyshine, just give it another try.” Scootaloo looked down at the young filly and offered her brightest smile.

“No! I hate my stupid wings.” Skyshine pouted and flapped her wings for added emphasis—one full-grown and healthy, the other small and deformed. “I’ll never be able to fly like you, Scootaloo.”

Scootaloo’s smile weakened. She turned her gaze to the side and stood quiet for a moment. “Y’know, Skyshine,” she said softly, “I only learned how to fly two years ago.”

The filly’s jaw dropped. “What?! But you’re so old! You’re like, like... sixteen! At least!”

She chuckled and rustled Skyshine’s mane. “Yeah, yeah, just call me Granny Scoots while you’re at it.” As her laughter died down, her face grew nostalgic again. “Look, my wings aren't perfect either, kiddo. But I didn't give up, and one day, I finally flew.” She placed a hoof on Skyshine’s chest. “You will, too. I believe in you.”

Skyshine beamed. “You think so? You really think so?!”

"I know so."

“Hey, Scootaloo, I grabbed the mail!” called out Derpy from the next room. “You got a card from Sweetie Belle.”

Scootaloo’s ears perked. “Thanks, boss!” She grinned at Skyshine. “She’s a really special friend of mine: a big-shot singer in Manehattan. Can you believe that?” She laughed and shook her head. “Anyway, c’mon. Let’s work on your strength-building exercises again.”

“—then your face will really show it. If you’re happy and you know it, stomp your hooves!”

The classroom ignited with cheers as the young colts and fillies banged their hooves against floor and desk.

“Your voice is so pretty, Miss Sweetie Belle!”

“You’re the best teacher ever!”

Sweetie Belle blushed and squirmed. “Aww, they’re just nursery rhymes. It’s nothing special.” She shook her head clear. “Now c’mon, class. That’s enough song time for today. We still need to get to your vocabulary quiz.”

Most of the class groaned in unison, save for one small colt in the front row. “Wait, one thing first.” He reached under his desk and pulled out a small card, blatantly hoof-made. “We all made you a Hearth’s Warming card! For our favorite teacher, Miss Sweetie Belle!”

Sweetie Belle choked up. “Aww...” She bit her lip and looked out over her students. “Thank you so much, everypony. I love it!” She floated the card over to her desk, gently propping it up beside another.

“Miss Sweetie Belle?” asked a filly in the second row. “Who’s that other card from?”

Sweetie Belle grinned. “That’s from my old school friend, Apple Bloom. She’s the best carpenter in my hometown of Ponyville. It’s exactly what she always wanted to be.”

“Did you always wanna be a teacher, Miss Sweetie Belle?”

She put on a broad smile. “Of course!”

“Well, glad to hear it,” said Big Macintosh.

“Me too!” Apple Bloom blinked and looked at the clock. “Shoot, what’re you doin’, yammerin’ on with me? You’re gonna miss the train to Canterlot.” She shoved against her brother, nudging him out the front door. “Be sure to say hi to Sis and Twilight and everypony for me.”

“Of course.” Big Macintosh turned back and frowned. “You sure you can manage on your own?”

“C’mon!” Apple Bloom smirked and saluted him. “You’re talking to your little sister, remember? I practically run Sweet Apple Acres by myself nowadays. A week without you around is no sweat.”

He nodded. “Okay, then. Just don’t get carried away.” With that, he turned and stepped back out into the snow.

Apple Bloom looked at the closet, where a small bag of tools was gathering dust. “I won’t.”

Eventually

Rarity opened the drawer on the far side of her boutique and pulled out a large pair of scissors. She inspected it, turning it about as its steel glimmered in the flickering candlelight. Wrong scissors, she thought. Too big. She needed the pinking shears, not the all-purpose ones.

Wiping a rogue bead of sweat from her neck, she looked at the clock. It was a quarter past four, two hours past the time she expected to have completed. She looked at the dress, or rather, what was finished of it. She had fabrics arranged on a dress form covering the torso and the back, and a large flowing piece on the rear. Only the torso was done. On its white cloth, gold lace trimmed the features and swirled around the center in a heart-shaped symbol, the one specifically requested by her client. She didn’t want to think about how much time she’d spent on it. If the client loved it, then it would all be worth it.

After all, that was the most important thing: the client loving it. Good dresses didn’t get attention; they had to be great dresses if not perfect. Simply pleasing the client wasn’t enough. And, of course, it was in her nature to please. That’s what drove her, that’s what she lived for.

It was quiet throughout the night. There were no lights in the town’s windows at this hour save for her own. There were no insects chirping, none that she could hear. It was tranquil. It was calm. The only sound was the slow and rhythmic snip, snip of her shears at fabric as she cut a similar design for the nape.

She lay on the floor and set her shears on the nearby table. She needed the rest, just for a little bit. She’d been working for hours. Just five minutes. Maybe ten. After that, she’d be up and ready to finish the dress, all before the client came in. The client would be happy and Rarity would be happy, and that thought put a smile on Rarity’s face.

Her eyelids drooped, and her breathing steadied...

She jolted to her hooves. No. She could rest later. for now, she had to finish the dress, the skirt, the ensemble. The client would be in here at noon today, in just a little over seven and a half hours, and she absolutely had to have the dress done by then. Lateness was not an option.

She looked out the window again. The faint silhouette of the trees outside began to stand out against the increasingly blueing sky. She could hear the birds begin to chirp outside.

Would she finally be able to sleep? Eventually, with any luck.

But not tonight, not now. There was still much work to be done.

A Deal to Last a Lifetime

The caricature of a pony’s face leaned over the front of the desk, a wheeled chair squeaking away as its chin bumped a cup filled with bones, sending them rolling. “Well, hello there. Don’t often see a young one like yerself visiting the old Tar-tar-us, Miss…” He grabbed a notebook and flipped through it. “…Scoo-tah-loo,” he enunciated, the thick string of ichor dangling from his cheek quivering like a goober would from Applebloom’s nose when she got hayfever. He stuck out a hoof. “You can call me Reek.”

She warily shook it, making sure to wipe the slime onto the floor after. Steeling her resolve, she looked at the desk’s occupant dead in his single eye and said, “I want to buy a dream.”

What followed was something that didn’t so much sound like a laugh as it did the wet wheezing of a fish out of water. “Don’t beat around the bush, do you?” Reek retreated to the other side of the desk. “If I might say so, you look like manure, Miss Scootaloo.”

She found herself suddenly self-conscious about her coat being matted with sweat and her wind-frizzed mane. Half a day of buzzing along on her scooter to reach Tartarus had taken its toll.

The tortured squeal of a drawer opening echoed through the gloomy cavern. “Not that I’m one to speak, of course,” he said as a chunk of flesh sloughed off his face.

The sound of papers shuffling reached Scootaloo’s ears. “Just that, for one that still gots blood in the veins and air in the lungs, you look like you got on the wrong end of a chariot crash.” A throaty chuckle escaped through the holes in his neck as he closed the drawer and placed a thick wad of documents onto the desk.

“What are these for?” Scootaloo asked, staring at the stack like it could come alive and bite her at any given moment

“Standard pro-seed-durr. Needed to keep track of claims and the like, plus it covers what remains of our asses if things don’t go hunky-dorky.” He lowered himself into the ratty chair behind the desk. “We make opportunities, not miracles, after all. Folks upstairs handle that sort of mystical stuff. Now, just so you know, we’ve gots to balance the scales. Give a dream, get a dream. Simple enough stuff.”

Scootaloo nodded. “I know all about that, just give me it.”

The decaying stallion flipped through the pages until reaching one with a blank section. “Put your request here, sign your name and we’ll be done like a heretic at the stake.” He pushed the paper to her, along with a pen. “Oh, and a word to the wise; need before greed tends to leave you better off.”

She nodded, bit the pen and put it down on the paper before something pricked her in the mouth.

“Pay that no mind,” Reek said. “We use blood for ink down here. Adds to the atmosphere, according to the big wigs.”

Gritting her teeth, Scootaloo ignored the pinch wrote down the request before adding her name at the bottom.

Reek snatched the sheet from her the moment the pen dropped from her mouth. “Hmm, not a bad one at all. Rainbow Dash, eh?” He barked a laugh. “Yeah, she’s real popular down here. Always teasing the other gate keepers with those Dᴇᴀᴛʜ-defying stunts of hers. Actually, he rather enjoys watching her, something about the ‘Thrill of the hunt’.”

The paper went into a manila folder half-eaten by mold. “Well, that’s everything.” Reek cracked open a tin and threw some powder into Scootaloo’s face.” You have a good life. Don’t worry about me, we’ll meet again some day, heh.”

She hit the floor before he’d even finished talking.

Beep

Scootaloo cracked open an eye.

Beep

“Ugh…”

Beep

She felt something hug her, practically squeezing her sides. “Scootaloo, oh thank Celestia you’re awake!” a familiar voice said.

Beep

“R-Rainbow Dash? Where… where am I? What happened?” she croaked.

Beep

“You were on a chariot from Cloudsdale, coming back from your foster parent’s house.”

Beep

“A young dragon decided it wanted add the chariot to its horde and…”

Beep

Her voice cracked. “Don’t worry, Scootaloo. I’m here for you. I put in the adoption request, already got a new house near Fluttershy’s…”

Beep

“Wait, why did you get a new house?”

Beep

“Because you… you can’t…”

Beep

Scootaloo finally noticed why she could feel Rainbow’s legs on her side.

If Only I Could...

“I’m doing it! I’m actually doing it!” Scootaloo shouted as she flew through the clouds.

Wind flowed underneath her spread-out wings as she flapped her wings and soared higher and higher. The houses were so far below that they looked like a colony of ants. She zipped around in a loop-de-loop, feeling the wind rush through her mane. Tucking in her wings, she dived. Propelling downwards faster and faster, she felt the wind resistance start to hold her back. After a deep breath, she pointed her snout towards and headed towards the center of Ponyville. Suddenly, she swooped upwards and opened her wings, gradually slowing her descent. Scootaloo took a deep breath as the adrenaline rushed through her system.

“I did it! I did—”

The wind that flowed around her wings stopped, as if somepony had hit a light switch. Scootaloo tried to flap her wings but it was no use. She could feel herself falling as she hurtled to her imminent doom. She opened her wings and tried to slow her fall, but no matter how hard she tried, she kept falling even faster. A tingling sensation spread through her wings, causing her to look back. Her wings shrank before her very eyes, gradually turning into the wings of a Pegasus infant. Taking a deep breath, she buzzed her wings the best she could but it couldn’t keep her afloat. The houses were becoming bigger, quickly becoming the size of apples, watermelons, and finally haystacks. Finally, with a pop, her wings disappeared. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. The ground came closer and closer. One hundred feet, fifty feet, twenty feet. Just before impact, Scootaloo closed her eyes.

She hit the ground with a thud and tried to roll over as she found herself wrapped in blankets. Struggling for air, she threw off the covers and took a deep breath. Placing a hoof over her rapidly beating heart, she looked around the room. She was no longer outside. Instead, she was back in her bedroom. Apparently, she had just fallen over in bed after having a nightmare. A quick glance at her wings told her that they hadn’t disappeared after all. However, they were still small and useless. She shook them, but didn’t do more than create a small rustle. With a sigh, she picked herself up and crawled back into bed.

Snuggling under the covers, only one thought sticks out in her mind. Why can’t she fly?

The next day, Scootaloo stood atop the cliff at Ghastly Gorge. As far as she was concerned, it was do or die time. Peeking over the edge, she looked at the chasm that lay before her. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead, but she quickly wiped it away. If she wanted to fly, she couldn’t afford to be chicken anymore. She was sick of all the flying jokes and not being to do something that many other pegasus could do at an even younger age. She would force herself into flying if that’s what it took. No matter the cost. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, and jumped.

The Flight

Wind crashed against Scootaloo’s face as she sped downhill. Faster and faster she went, hooves smacking the ground in a staccato that kicked wisps of dust into the early autumn air. If only Rainbow Dash could see her now, about to do the most awesome stunt ever. At least Applebloom and Sweetie Belle would be there in her moment of glory. After today, nobody would dare call her a “dodo” anymore. Tiny legs propelling her to supersonic speeds, crisp crimson leaves at her sides lost in the speed blur, Scootaloo knew it was do or die time.

The drop was only a few yards away now. Minuscule wings flapped with a buzzing excitement, ready for take-off. Scootaloo braced herself for incoming awesomeness; she’d be the talk of the town after this stunt. Mayor Mare would probably even give her a medal with
“Too Awesome” written on it.

“Go Scootaloo!” Applebloom cheered from along the edge of the drop.

Scootaloo’s wings beat furiously, slowly lifting her body off the ground. Tiny beads of sweat dripped from Scootaloo’s face, all her effort set on moving those wings as quick as possible. The world went dim, sounds muted, the wings her only priority. She rose another inch off the ground.

“You’re doing great, keep it up!” Sweetie Belle yelled, barely heard by Scootaloo.

For an instant, a feeling of unmistakable dread hit Scootaloo as she careened off the drop. Her eyes shut for the briefest of seconds, not wanting to look at the ground that lay an innumerable measure below. A few seconds passed before she finally opened her eyes. She was doing it. Scootaloo the dodo could fly! That snob Diamond Tiara and her lackey Silver Spoon couldn’t call her that anymore, could they? No, they’d have to call her Scootaloo the Super Awesome Flier or something like that.

It was all so perfect, just like she had imagined it since she was a filly. The brisk air brushed the heavy drops of sweat off her body, coursing through her feathers with an almost ecstatic pleasure. No wonder why Rainbow loved flying so much.

She stuck her wings out to glide and, within a second, began to fall like a stone. Frantic wings thrashed in a frenzy, desperately trying to gain altitude.

“Scootaloo!” a voice called out from far away, almost an afterthought. It echoed throughout the barren reaches of the drop.

The flight lasted three minutes.