The Trinity of Moons: Ancillary Mirrors

Night brought no eternal darkness for Bittercup. Princess Luna, sensing the fear her presence would evoke, kept a respectful distance; carefully sifting through the tapestry of the young pegasus's nightmares while safeguarding her dreams. Bittercup, faintly aware of Luna's watchful eye, was grateful for the space.

Daybreak brought unfamiliar scents — after all, she wasn’t traveling in the wilderness anymore. Gone was the fragrance of meadow grass, replaced by the sweetness of baking pastries and the earthy aroma of petrichor lingering after a summer rain. Just outside her window, the sound of cheers and applause over a lively game could be heard, punctuated by the rhythmic whack of hooves against a ball. In the distance, the bustling energy of a city market hummed. Bittercup’s magnetic sense clearly showed where north was, and otherwise was calm, calmer than it had ever been in any big city which she had visited before. No electronics, no clusters of metals, and no power plants.

The weight of her visions, though still present, felt lighter. The chilling terror that had gripped her, the urgent need to save the world, had all quieted to a faint whisper. A calmness, deeper than any she had ever known, settled over her.

Bittercup leaped from the bed, eager to join the ball game outside, but her legs betrayed her as they tangled in the unfamiliar, wormwood-scented rug. She landed with an undignified thump. A sudden pang of deep hunger shot through her belly. As she laid upon the floor, she could see a twenty-sided die clatter across the carpet before her; landing on a fourteen. The roll itself was just high enough to let her find what she was looking for.

She crawled towards the window, then, in a series of awkward maneuvers worsened by a bout of vertigo, managed to bring down a clay bowl brimming with red and yellow apples; which broke upon hitting the floor.

Three devoured apples and a few minutes later, her trembling legs regained their strength and she took care of the pieces of the shattered bowl too — that is to say — she gathered them into a small pile. She was ready to face the world outside.

Stepping outside, the warmth of the midday sun shone down and invigorated her with its warmth. A playful gust of wind ruffled her mane, bringing a smile to her face.

A blur of pink and blue swooped down, chirping at a dizzying speed. The creature, a peculiar mare with sharp claws and a mane of feathers, was completely foreign to her. Though Bittercup failed to truly understand the rapid-fire words with a low listen check, the welcoming tone made it clear the creature bore her no ill intent and particularly — Bittercup heard it repeated twice — wasn’t going to eat or hurt her..

A yellow earth pony mare, Applebloom, approached Bittercup with a worried frown. "Silverstream, hold on now! Don't you go crowdin' her…” Applebloom shooed Silverstream away and turned to Bittercup, “Sugar, where’re you runnin' off to? You were in such rough shape yesterday, we didn't rightly know if y'all would make it or not!"

Bittercup shuddered, the concern in the pony's voice unmistakable. “No, no, I’m fine… I’m much better. I was just low on hit points when you found me, but a long rest was exactly what I needed and…wait. How bad was it? Did it really seem like I could have died?”

Applebloom tilted her head and blinked a few times.

"Uh, I didn’t quite catch that none. What do ya mean by ‘hit points’? You feelin’ a little outta sorts or somethin’? It ain’t like Scootaloo ran over your head. And yep, Sweetie was real worried you were gonna kick the bucket."

Bittercup hesitated. She really didn't like this question, but she decided to answer it one hundred percent honestly..

Between deciding and actually answering lay a chasm of shame and fear. Bittercup didn't want to remember when exactly the dice had first rolled in her head. She knew that from that night on, she had never been truly okay.

She wished she could turn back time to just a minute ago and not let the truth slip out. But it was already too late.

"Listen, Applebloom, please try to believe me and don't be scared. Some time ago, a small part of me seemed to split off, like a shard from a cracked cup, and now it shows me the world as if it were a board game. I know it’s not really a game. Do you understand what I’m saying? Do you believe me?"

There wasn’t a nod, nor another invitation to speak, but Applebloom didn’t look away. Her ears perked up, and she listened intently to Bittercup. The pegasus continued.

"So, sometimes I accidentally let it slip. I really don't want to — ponies get scared and stop talking to me when they hear it — but... " Bittercup blinked, "it's there. The shard is there. And something inside me says that as long as the game is going on, I... I will live. Just p-please don’t ask me to stop it, okay? If you want, you can just ignore me, like the others do. I tried to stop it, and it..."

She swallowed the rest of her words as tears welled up in her eyes .

Applebloom paused.

"So when the game ends, you're gonna die, huh? Well, I ain't about to ask ya to die or nothin’. Everypony's got their own way of seein’ things. Sit right there, filly, Ah’ll be right back,” Applebloom’s tone was firm, yet gentle. She pressed a small, warm apple pie into Bittercup’s hooves before hurrying away.

As Bittercup watched the game unfold, she noticed one of the teams had an unusual composition; a blue griffon, the pink, birdlike creature, a shimmering, and multi-colored insect encased in a chitinous frame. That team of non-ponies was showing remarkable teamwork and had an impressive lead in score.

The pie was eaten up in the meantime, tasty and fulfilling.

Applebloom soon returned, flanked by two other ponies – the Cutie Mark Crusaders. They too were calling themselves exactly this, as she had learned the previous day. Now, with a clearer mind, Bittercup noticed a striking resemblance. Sweetie Belle possessed the same bright green eyes that Stylus did. Now, when she was mildly mad, her expression resembled Stylus too.

"How could you let our precious guest wander off unsupervised?!" Sweetie Belle said, her brow furrowed slightly.

A bit more eloquent and outspoken than him, Bittercup noticed. Stylus rarely said more than a few words if it wasn’t a lecture about the history of the world itself or something in it.

Scootaloo stepped towards Bittercup, looking at Sweetie. She replied calmly, “She was sound asleep when I left. How was I supposed to know she would wake up while I was out buying groceries? Besides, she’s no younger than we were when we went wandering around Ponyville.” Her voice was a calming tone, that of a natural diplomat — and she rolled a thirteen on her speech check, from what Bittercup could tell.

"But we got into all sorts of trouble, Scoots. If it weren’t for Twilight and her friends, who knows what would’ve happened to us. We should pay it forward and help take care of this dear filly…" Sweetie Belle said, her tone softening.

“I know,” Scootaloo smiled reassuringly, “I just didn’t want to disturb you. This is my own trouble. I can feel it. But since you’re here…”

The three Crusaders formed a semi-circle around Bittercup, their gazes filled with concern but not judgment. Their attentiveness, however, made Bittercup acutely aware of her own appearance and how out of place she felt. Each of them was captivating in her own way – Scootaloo, radiating quiet strength despite her small wings; Sweetie Belle, delicate and graceful with an impossibly long horn; and Applebloom, fluffy, sturdy and level-headed, her eyes constantly observing, anticipating one trouble or another.

“What d’you want now, sugar?” Applebloom finally asked.

Bittercup hesitated, accustomed to adults offering veiled solutions when they phrased questions that way. But there were no hidden agendas here. She could clearly feel Scootaloo's guilt, her determination not to leave Bittercup alone again unless explicitly asked.

So, Bittercup spoke, “Please, don’t look at me like I’m a filly. I’m a grown mare… well, almost. I’ve already eaten and had an uninterrupted long rest, I feel fine, really. I just want to go home… to my own ponies, we were in the middle of a quest when all this happened. You don’t seem like you need my help and you don’t have to look after me, either. It’ll be fine… I mean, until the eternal darkness comes. If it comes.”

Her words held truth, memories of the world's impending doom still vivid in Bittercup’s mind. Yet the terror was gone, replaced by a calm acceptance of what would be.

Scootaloo blinked slowly, “Have you heard any of my thoughts recently? Because I definitely heard yours just now. Twilight mentioned something like that could happen.”

Bittercup nodded slowly, "Yes, a little. It's not scary. Not as scary as it should be. It feels… more like talking to myself, you know?"

Applebloom, receiving no explanation from a tight-lipped Scootaloo, sighed and turned back to Bittercup. "Can ya at least totter 'round, sugar? If you ain't very tired after that long rest and the whole pie,” she clearly quoted Bittercup’s own words, “a lil' nibble might do ya some good."

Testing her strength, Bittercup rose to her hooves, then unfurled her wings, tentatively lifting herself off the ground. A lingering weakness persisted, but perhaps it was simply the remnants of hunger.

"I can totter around. But I don’t have any bits to pay for the pie…"

“Don’t you dare worry about that,” Sweetie Belle chirped, “I’ve got more than enough bits for everypony. And it’s not my allowance, I earned it.” Her tone seemed oddly smug, as if bragging about a mundane job.

“You’re not the only one,” Scootaloo snorted under her breath. A withering glare from Applebloom silenced them both instantly.

The Cutie Mark Crusaders – with Bittercup accompanying them – made their way to an open-air diner close by. A yellow-and-green striped awning provided a momentary reprieve from the midday sun. The four ponies shared a refreshing summer salad of tomatoes, cheese, and herbs; sating the last traces of hunger from Bittercup’s belly.

“Nearly a full-grown mare, ya reckon?” Applebloom winked, placing a clay bowl filled with a black and white concoction before Bittercup. The bowl was like one shattered by Bittercup earlier; she swallowed a lump of guilt. It wasn’t the first cup or bowl she had broken, and it wouldn’t be the last.

The prank dawned on Bittercup the instant she tasted the bitter concoction: it was cocoa with cream. The cream was light and fluffy, but the cocoa was strong. She coughed after the first sip, the pungent aroma clinging to her throat. But as the initial bitterness subsided, it left behind a sweet, milky warmth that spread through her: sparking a burst of energy. Applebloom, in response, offered an approving grin. She focused on the cup, hoping it wouldn’t inexplicably break as others often did. But no, this one, truly a bitter cup, seemingly avoided that fate.

Sweetie Belle pulled up a chair and, with a gentle request for Bittercup to spread her wings, began her examination. A thin, green beam sprang forth from the unicorn’s horn and spiraled downwards, tracing patterns over Bittercup's form; a diagnostic and healing spell. Sweetie Belle had a satisfied smile after the spell was cast, Bittercup could see a faint gleam in her eye that seemed to reflect the number twenty – a critical success.

Taking a moment, Bittercup absorbed her surroundings: the honey-gold sheen of the table, the cheerful yellow and green walls, the chattering patrons, a mix of species enjoying their meals. The air buzzed with the aromas of food, cocoa, and spices. For a moment, she wished she could simply forget the prophecy, forget the burden, and simply enjoy the moment – but looming darkness threatened to encroach on this world, and she needed to return to her own.

The main quest stood red, unfulfilled, as it had been. No bolt of lightning struck her to offer a swift return to her friends, Quartz and Stylus, who were likely frantic with worry. Even if they had read her parting note, its meaning would be all but lost to them.

Sweetie Belle wiped Bittercup’s tears with the corner of an embroidered square cloth.

The unicorn gently guided Bittercup out, flanked by the other Crusaders, assuring Bittercup that it is alright, that she’ll be safe in the Crusaders’ care. They were taking her to a concert, a celebration of Sweetie Belle’s students on the western outskirts of Ponyville.

On the way, Bittercup was overwhelmed by a panic attack — she realized something that should have been obvious. These colorful giant insects, friendly and sociable, hovering around them at every opportunity, were changelings. She had only needed to look closer, as these creatures were named such within her mind’s eye through a bestiary – defined by the game-like lens through which she saw the world.

Bittercup adamantly refused to go anywhere near these creatures. She didn't believe the explanations.

"In our Equestria, the Princesses tried to do what you're saying! They tried to teach the changelings to share love within the hive.” Bittercup explained with a terse, beligerent tone “It ended very badly, and it can't be done that way. It just can't be done that way, they're not built like that!"

This caused a brief disagreement among the Crusaders — while Applebloom insisted that everything really had happened that way, Sweetie asked them not to argue. After all, in different worlds small details could depart, right?

Scootaloo settled the argument, her voice firm yet soothing, “Bitters, it worked for us. Maybe Starlight Glimmer used some of her creepy magic to make it work. She always does. But it worked. Trust me, none of them mean us any harm. And if they did? We’re here, we’ll protect you.”

A hesitant nod later. Scootaloo lowered herself and gently placed Bittercup onto her back, Scootaloo’s fur was surprisingly warm and comforting. The rhythmic beat of Scootaloo’s hooves with each step,her scent devoid of fear, slowly chipped away at the lingering terror that gripped Bittercup. By the time they arrived at the outskirts of Ponyville, a sense of calm had settled over her. Yes, changelings were the most troubling threat in her world, but here… here, the Crusaders were not afraid.

The concert was a vibrant affair. Sweetie Belle, showcasing a whirlwind of energy, cheered for each performer with infectious enthusiasm. She whispered praise to the Crusaders, declaring each student to be “the best, most amazing, most talented!” – while such a remark would feel insincere when repeated again and again, the earnestness in which Sweetie Belle spoke made it clear she meant it each and every time.. Applebloom, Bittercup, and even Scootaloo couldn’t keep from smiling as they watched everything unfold.

During the intermission, Sweetie Belle had been informed that one of her singers felt unwell. Though the show must go on, she had no intentions of making a performer work when they weren’t feeling their best. Still, she needed a pony with a suitable singing voice to fill the space. Rather than take the stage herself, Sweetie Belle gently nudged Bittercup; urging her to take the stage in her student’s stead.

“You want me to sing?” Bittercup asked, her ears drooped. “It’s not that I can’t sing, but what song would you have me perform?”

In a haze of light green magic, a small scroll of sheet music poofed into being and was displayed before Bittercup. “It’s just the Equestria National Anthem,” Sweetie Belle explained “I’m sure it’s no different from the one back in your world. And, even if it is, just sing your version then! Equestria will always be Equestria, no matter where you go.”

With a nod, Bittercup reached out with her wing and took the sheet music, then descended from the audience and ascended to the stage. She unfurled the scroll, took a breath, and sang. Though the anthem of this Equestria had different lyrics than her own, the words came out without hesitation or error. Before she knew it, Bittercup had stopped reading from the scroll and was singing by heart – as if this was the anthem she had sung time again since her earliest days. Once she finished, she heard applause from the crowd and could see a pleased smile upon Sweetie Belle’s face. In the corner of her eye, she could see a twenty-sided die that had landed on an eleven. A decent performance from an unprepared participant.

As she descended from the podium, the opening of the anthem still resonated within her.

Equestria, the land I love

A land of harmony…

The line was nearly identical to the one back home, as was the flag. Yet, back in her world, Bittercup would have sung "Of Double Harmony," her thoughts drifting to the Princesses of Moon and Sun. Here, the missing word barely registered. Even without it, the rhythm felt right, unbroken. The line was right for this land. Two princesses still graced the flag, but Bittercup felt her heart opening to Equestria itself, not just its rulers.

Though the terrifying vision of eternal darkness had faded to a distant memory, the desire to protect this world burned much brighter now. Not out of obligation, not because it was another quest to tick off a list, and not out of fear. She felt she had seen this Equestria, and Equestria had seen her as well.

She embraced Scootaloo, meeting the older mare's gaze. In those violet eyes, Bittercup saw a reflection of her own emotions; a shared understanding that transcended words.

Later, after the concert’s festivities were done, Bittercup asked if they had any board games. The Crusaders happily led her to Ponyville's bustling heart - a vast central square of various small businesses, dominated by the elegant spire of town hall. Five enormous gaming tables, their surfaces crafted from dark purple tiles arranged in a pentagonal pattern, occupied the square's eastern edge. Two were already in use, so Bittercup and the Crusaders claimed the remaining table in the middle. It alone could host a dozen ponies, but for now, the four of them will do.

Maybe not only ponies: at another of the occupied tables half a dozen of different species were all playing together. By now, Bittercup had started growing accustomed to the diversity of creatures inhabiting this world. She'd learned to identify the most common ones: griffons, yaks, hippogriffs, changelings, and dragons. All but changelings and hippogriffs were present in her version of Equestria and she saw it before… well, changelings were there too, but she didn’t like to think about those changelings or her experience with them.

It was seeing them intermingle so casually that still felt strange. Back in her world, such creatures rarely ventured beyond their own territories, save for their interactions with Equestria. Even then, such interactions were limited to formal diplomacy and trade.

However, Bittercup noted the Crusaders’ unwavering composure. They displayed no fear or apprehension when dealing with these creatures, and their calmness soothed her own anxieties.

Taking her mantle as game master, Bittercup began setting the scene. "You find yourselves swimming towards a remote tropical island on the southern fringes of Equestria. News has reached your organization that a devastating epidemic has swept across the island, prompting the local baron to close all ports. However, a loyal guardian of the Crown awaits your arrival at a designated location, ready to grant you safe passage. The disease appears to be spread through physical contact. The Princesses suspect it might be linked to experiments conducted in a secret laboratory hidden on the island. Your mission is to uncover the truth. But first, let’s begin with introductions, shall we?"

She leaned forward, her gaze sweeping over the Crusaders. "And no need to invent new characters on the spot or anything. Just play yourselves in this adventure. I’d like to get to know you all better."

The game unfolded with surprising smoothness, though at one point, Bittercup and Scootaloo inexplicably switched places without anypony noticing when or how, forcing them to awkwardly return to their original seats. Throughout the game, Bittercup found herself anticipating Scootaloo’s thoughts, feelings, and impulses — as if the older pegasus was not just beside her, but within her. And because Scootaloo possessed a competitive spirit that was stubborn without equal, the orange pegasus found herself attempting the same action repeatedly even after the lab assistant had made it clear he wouldn't yield. Despite Bittercup’s efforts, she had to gently remind Scootaloo that her character wouldn't know the code words or the location of the hidden passage through the lab’s stone wall.

They reached the climax of the first act right as the sun began to set, discovering that the source of the epidemic was not a lab-created pathogen but a creature from the ocean depths, washed ashore during a recent storm. By then, they had already enjoyed both lunch and dinner – an unobtrusive tracking spell woven into the gaming table alerted the staff to their engrossed state. Bittercup, determined to be an exceptional game master, thus triggered the right to have their meals provided free of charge courtesy of Princess Twilight Sparkle. They paused not out of waning enthusiasm, but simply because the day was drawing to a close, and Princess Luna's potential arrival loomed like the stars above.

After clearing their game from the table, they ventured towards Twilight's castle, hoping to ascertain Luna's schedule. The Crusaders took the lead, approaching the castle while Bittercup stepped aside to linger in the shadows nearby. Once again, the reality of this world had left her dumbfounded: an alicorn that was neither Princess Celestia nor Princess Luna. She saw this Princess yesterday, but wasn’t in the right state of mind then to fully process the fact.

Twilight, for all her seemingly impossible existence, possessed an undeniable grace and beauty. Bittercup’s heart fluttered as a soft blush spread across her cheeks. She felt a curious desire to kiss the Princess..

Twilight, still concerned about Bittercup and puzzled by her unusual connection with Scootaloo, observed as the two pegasi deliberately switched places right before her eyes. It wasn't magic, not in the traditional sense. It was as if a shared desire, a silent agreement, was all it took. Astounded and intrigued, Twilight scribbled frantic notes.

They learned that Luna would be arriving in a few hours, well after sunset. None of them felt the need to part ways just yet.

Scootaloo took charge for their next group activity. The evening’s entertainment would be found at the local cinema in Poyville, where a brand new detective movie was screening—a full hour and a half long runtime. While technically off-limits to foals, the Crusaders had watched it the previous week and agreed it was safe for Bittercup. The film’s content, they decided, was actually quite harmless for a younger audience; just a couple of lingering kisses and a touch of romance.

Applebloom, having heard the plan, insisted that Scootaloo purchase two tickets. Sweetie Belle first attempted to talk the ticket seller into allowing Bittercup’s entry. Alas, luck was not on her side, as her persuasion roll yielded a dismal four — even Sweetie Belle’s considerable Charisma score couldn’t make up the difference needed to succeed.

However, the cashier’s authority was no match for the Crusaders' actual plan. Scootaloo entered the theater and strategically positioned herself in the back rows. Then, she switched places with Bittercup, who waited patiently just around the corner and out of the cashier’s line of sight. All that remained was for Scootaloo to brandish her second ticket and re-enter the theater, while Sweetie Belle, as soft-spoken as she is, assured the bewildered cashier that Scootaloo often gets mistaken for other ponies.

The movie centered around an agent from the Secret Monster Intelligence League of Equestria. shortened to SMILE by most of the characters. The hero was tasked with unmasking a monster that was cleverly disguised among the contestants of a prestigious beauty pageant, she throws herself into the glamorous world of competition. As the plot unfolded, Bittercup couldn't help but disagree with the Crusaders’ assessment of the movie's rating. Suggestive camera angles, double entendres, and mares pretty strategically clothed were abound. Yet, the movie's heart lay in its endearing characters and their heartfelt camaraderie. The contestants, far from fitting into predictable tropes, proved to be quick-witted, supportive, and bursting with personality. Besides, Bittercup had indulged in enough soft-covered romance novels in the past couple of years, so her innocence was neither corrupted nor harmed tonight.

Later, as they made their way back to Twilight's castle, Bittercup felt a blush creep not only across her cheeks, but her ears as well. It wasn't just the movie. She'd been seen, studied, deemed worthy, and welcomed as their friend — their equal. And with that she also knew they all understood her state as she was allowed into the adults’ world.

By no means had she forgotten about Quartz and Stylus, their friendship was irreplaceable. But for now, she had found new friends that provided her a new sense of belonging and comfort in this unfamiliar world.

Nestled beside Scootaloo, sheltered beneath her wing, Bittercup decided to postpone thoughts of their eventual parting. For in this moment, surrounded by newfound acceptance, she allowed herself to simply be happy.