Little Magnetsby alexmagnetChaptersUnder the Apple TreesWings of an AngelNoisesMore Than a MagicianThe LocketPancakes and ApplesRestorationOn the Trail We BlazeThe Joy is in the Journey... Isn't It?MudFrying-Pan MenEcclesiazusaeCaro NomeL For...Under the Apple TreesApplejack's coat glistened with sweat as she walked through the orchard. One, two, three. The late-afternoon sun beat down on her back. Four, five, six. She stopped for a moment to wipe the sticky sweat from her brow, glancing up to the sky in time to see an eagle pass by. A small smile parted her lips; her teeth were barely visible beneath her gums. She felt the crisp grass beneath her hooves as she walked past tree after tree laden with sweet-smelling apples. Nine, Ten—shoot. How many was it again? Applejack's brow furrowed as she tapped a hoof against her forehead. Her eyes lit up suddenly. It's thirteen, then Ah go left. She grinned, pleased with herself. Eleven, twelve—and thirteen. She stopped at the thirteenth tree, making a sharp left turn, and then began counting again. Four down, then one right. A calm breeze swept through the orchard as she walked; it rustled the leaves, played with her mane. Thee—and four. She stopped again, looking up at the plump apples hanging from the tree. Hanging right around the fourth tree, she stopped at the next one. Ah'm here. She approached the tree slowly, taking off her hat and holding it over her chest. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she looked at the tree trunk. Carved into the bark were four letters encompassed by straight-edged heart: “AW+HC”. “Howdy, Ma,” said Applejack quietly. “And you too, Pa.” She carefully set her hat down next the tree then brought her hoof up to the heart that encompassed the initials. She ran her hoof across the bark, feeling the grooves of both the tree and the carving. A gust of wind blew past her, ruffling her mane. She smiled. “It's been awhile since Ah've come,” she said softly. “Ah'm real sorry about that. Ah've just been so busy around the farm,” she said apologetically. “Y'all know how that is.” She breathed deeply through her nose, allowing the scent of apples and tree sap to mix into a pleasant bittersweet combination. “Ah came to see y'all 'cus Ah almost lost myself today.” She placed her forehead against the tree; the rough bark brought a smile to her face and her eyes began to water. “Ah don't know what Ah woulda done if it weren't for Twi.” Tears began to roll down her cheeks. They fell to the ground, splashing against the protruding roots. “She saved me. Heck—she saved all of us. She showed us what friendship truly means, and Ah can't thank her enough for that.” She took a few steps back from the tree. The leaves rustled, and the apples bobbed in the wind. She stared at the carving, tears welling in her eyes. “Well, Ah guess that's all Ah had to say,” she chuckled softly. “Ah promise to come back and visit real soon, and Ah'll tell Big Mac y'all said 'howdy'.” She picked up her hat and turned to walk away, but an apple fell in front of her. She bent down to pick it up and examined it. A wide grin spread across her face. She closed her eyes and took a generous bite out of the side. The crunchy sweetness filled her mouth as she chewed. She looked up at the tree and tilted her hat down, nodding her head. “Thank ya kindly.” Taking another bite, she turned around and walked away as another gust of wind blew past her, rustling the leaves. Wings of an Angel“What are you—a chicken?” Scootaloo said in a mock sing-song voice. She was clambering her way up a steep slope, mumbling to herself. “Chicken, huh? I'll show them.” Her tiny hooves awkwardly grasped at rocks as she pulled herself up the mountainside. She grunted as she lifted herself onto a small plateau. The rock felt chill against her back as she sat on her haunches, resting. Her breathing was ragged, and she was dripping with sweat. With one hoof to placed above her brow, she scanned the sky. There was not a cloud in the sky. She licked her lips as a toothy grin spread across her face. Taking a deep breath she stood and dusted herself off. She heaved herself up and continued climbing. Her weak muscles strained under the pressure. Exhaling with each thrust, she moved slowly but surely, higher. Within a few minutes, she had reached the penultimate rock. Its craggy surface was the last obstacle. She cracked her neck and ruffled her feathers. With the combination of her hooves pulling herself up and the beating of her wings to provide a small amount of lift, she was finally able to crest the massive stone. When she had reached the top, she threw herself down, splaying out on the hard slab. She rolled on to her back and stared up at the sky. She closed her eyes and basked in the sun's warm rays for a few moments—her chest slowly heaving up and down—before rolling back over. Her rosy mane was sticky with sweat; it stuck to her cheeks like glue. She shook her head, showering the rocks with salty water. She inched towards the edge of the cliff, peering over the precipice. Her heart skipped a beat. The ground seemed so far away. The trees were merely green sticks in the distance. She felt a lump in her throat. She swallowed hard, taking a few steps back. “I came this far,” she said firmly. Her face contorted into a look of determination. Her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed. She bit her lip, shuffling her feet. “Okay,” she said finally. “I'm ready.” Clenching her eyes shut, she galloped towards the edge, flapping her tiny wings as hard as possible. She jumped. For a brief moment, she felt as if she were floating. She opened one eye slowly, then the other. Looking around, she saw the vast blue sky in front of her. A smile cracked across her face. Then—she fell. As quickly as her joy had come, it left her, replaced by sudden fear. She flapped her scrawny wings with all her strength. Her heart raced as she plummeted towards the ground. She shut her eyes fearfully, turning her body in a futile attempt to cushion the impact. She waited for the inevitable, wondering what it was going to feel like. Tears flew past her in the wind. She felt herself stop suddenly. She opened her eyes slowly, sure that she had hit the ground by now. A multitude of colors waved in front of her. She could feel soft, blue fur beneath her. She no longer felt as though she were falling. Rather, she felt as if she were rising. “Rainbow—Dash?” she said slowly. Rainbow glanced over her shoulder, a smirk adorning her muzzle. “Don't worry, squirt,” she said reassuringly. “I've got you.” Scootaloo's eyes watered; tears streamed down her cheeks moistening her fur. She leaned down wrapping her hooves around Rainbow's neck. She nuzzled her warmly. “Thank you.” NoisesTwilight trotted down the streets, her mane and tail bouncing gleefully. The sun shined through the clouds, and all of Ponyville seemed to be out and about enjoying the weather. Spike rode on her back holding a checklist in one claw and a quill in the other. “Okay,” said Spike. “We got quills.” “Check,” responded Twilight and Spike scratched check mark onto the paper. “And we spoke to Cheerilee about getting chalk.” “Check.” Spike made another check mark. “So that just leaves...” His voice trailed off as he read the list. Rolling his eyes, he said: “Get more owl food.” “Check. I mean, right,” Twilight giggled. “Uh huh,” Spike said slowly. “So, where are we gonna get owl food?” “There's a place—” Twilight was interrupted by a sudden hissing from behind her. “Twilight!” Twilight spun around. Her and Spike's heads swiveled as they searched for the source of the voice. “Up here.” They craned their necks, looking up to the second story window where Pinkie Pie was hiding—just barely—behind the curtains. “Pinkie?” said Twilight as she tilted her head to the side. Pinkie inched out from behind the curtain and whispered down to them: “I need you. You have to come up here right now.” Twilight glanced over her shoulder at Spike; he shrugged. She rolled her eyes then trotted up to the door. They stepped inside and headed upstairs. In the room furthest from them, they found Pinkie backed against a corner. Twilight's lips pursed, and her eyebrows rose. “Pinkie, what are you doing?” Pinkie pointed to the door across from them. “There's something under the sink. I keep hearing scratching sounds coming from it,” she said, holding the curtain up to cover her face. Twilight sighed. “I'm sure it's nothing,” she said plainly. “I'll show you.” Spike hopped off her back, and she approached the door slowly. Her horn began to glow as she turned the handle and slowly pushed the door open. Inside she could see a sink with a cupboard below it. She stepped inside and leaned her head down so that it was level with the cupboard. “See,” she said, nodding her head towards the cupboard. “Nothin—” She was interrupted by the sound of something scratching the wood. She jumped back, hitting her head against the edge of the sink. Twilight rubbed her head as she said: “What in Celestia's name was that?” Pinkie, curtains still covering all of her face, responded: “I told you.” Twilight backed away slowly. “Okay, we need a plan.” Several minutes later, Spike, Twilight, and Pinkie stood in a semi-circle around the cupboard. Each of them clutched a different weapon. Twilight raised her frying pan high as Spike readied his tennis racket and Pinkie's grip tightened around her oven mitt. “Ready?” Twilight said, looking around the group. They nodded. She nodded back, and her horn began to glow. “One, two, three!” As she shouted “three”, she threw open the cupboard doors. A tiny green alligator tumbled out onto the tiled floor. “There you are Gummy! I was wondering where you went,” Pinkie giggled cheerfully. She scooped Gummy up and placed him on her head. Humming to herself, she bounced away. Twilight's jaw dropped. Still holding the frying pan, she turned to Spike; he shrugged his shoulders. She tossed the frying pan aside and lifted Spike onto her back. “Come on,” she said. “Let's go get that owl food.” More Than a Magician“Why that little!” Rainbow Dash lifted into the sky, her face scrunched into a scowl. She beat her wings, ready to speed off, but Twilight stopped her. “Just let her go,” she said calmly. Twilight looked up at Rainbow Dash and said coolly: “Maybe some day she'll learn her lesson.” With a sigh, Rainbow floated back down. Twilight turned her attention to the two little colts standing a few feet away from her. “Now,” she said. “About you two...” Twilight threw herself onto her bed, allowing herself to sink into its downy softness. Spike had fallen asleep in the other room as soon as they got home, but she had stayed up. Something in the back of her mind told her that she knew that mare. After several hours of scanning yearbooks, and photo albums, however, she had turned up nothing. Eventually, she had to give up the search until the next day. Now she lay in the warm embrace of her comforter. She rolled over and lay her head against the pillow, dragging another over to cover her eyes. Sleep began to ease its way in slowly. “Hello, Twilight.” The sudden removal of the pillow yanked Twilight from her slumber. Her mouth hanging agape, Twilight looked up to see a mare leaning over her. “Trixie?” She nearly stumbled over the last few letters as they spilled from her mouth. Trixie's lips curled into a thin smile. She leaned in; her snout nearly touched Twilight's, and her eyes seemed to glint in the moonlight. “I—I saw you leave,” Twilight said quietly. “Did you?” Trixie asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I don't understand.” Twilight's mane rustled as she slowly shook her head. “What do you want?” “Ah,” said Trixie as she moved her hoof to Twilight's face. “Now that is an interesting question.” She brushed the loose strands of hair out of Twilight's eyes, causing her to recoil. “Are you afraid of me?” Trixie's smile turned to a simper. One hoof on either side of Twilight's head, Trixie leaned in further; her mane flowed like a waterfall onto Twilight's chest. “I want what I've always wanted,” she said finally, running her hoof across Twilight's face. “Mom and Dad were always so proud of you,” she said. “You were Celestia's faithful student after all.” Trixie ran a hoof through Twilight's mane. “I guess I wasn't good enough for you,” she lamented with a sigh. Twilight's eyes shot open. She turned her head to stare into Trixie's eyes. Her mouth opened slowly. “Lula—moon?” she said softly. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth with each “l”. “I—I thought y—you died...” she stammered as her voice trailed off. Lulamoon's smile soured. Her face scrunched up. “Yes,” she answered evenly. “I suppose it would've looked that way.” “I—I can't believe you're alive.” Twilight's eyes grew into saucers. “W—what do you want?” Lulamoon's smile returned. “Your attention,” she answered smoothly. Her words seemed to flow out like water, drowning Twilight. “Well, you have it now.” Twilight smiled uneasily. “I'm sure I do,” Lulamoon replied sweetly. Her horn began to glow. A pillow glided gently through the air, slowly sliding across Twilight's face as her eyes grew even larger. “N—” she started to protest before the pillow's smothering cut her off. A wicked grin came over Lulamoon's face as she moved her hooves over the pillow and pressed down. The LocketThe 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.” Pancakes and ApplesMy 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. RestorationCold, 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.” On the Trail We Blaze"This is getting utterly absurd," complained Twilight as she squeezed through a particularly thorny patch of vines that tugged at her mane and tail. Fighting them off like the brave hero she was, Twilight got tangled on a rather large thorn and stomped her hooves angrily. "These freaking thorns are seriously getting on my nerves! Gah!" She kicked the bejeezus out of the poor vine until it was crumpled and limp. Once she’d shirked it off, she asked, "Are we even close to being there yet?" Wielding a dulled machete in her magic (since Twilight wouldn't let her sharpen it), Trixie puffed out her chest triumphantly as she cut down the last swath of vegetation before her, revealing a vast canyon overlooked by ominous cliffs. "Why yes, Twilight, yes in fact we are here.” She then added, under her breath, “No thanks to your incessant whining." Twilight rolled her eyes. "Whatever, let's just get this thing and be done with it. Who the heck hides their family fortune in a secret hollowed-out volcano lair anyway? And why in Celestia's name is it way the crap out here?" Shoving aside a nosey squirrel and stepping over some more vines, Twilight said, “What, you guys couldn’t find a hollowed-out volcano a little closer to… well, anywhere?” "Tsk tsk," said Trixie, clicking her tongue. "Those are questions best left for another time. For right now, let's simply enjoy the moment. And for the record, no. This was the nearest volcano. Turns out they’re not as common as you might think.” "Screw that," said Twilight, finally escaping the vines and heaving herself up onto the rock Trixie was standing on. "I just want to be done with—what the?" Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked out over the canyon with not a volcano in sight. "I thought you said we were here?" "We are.” "Then where's the volcano?" "Over there." Trixie pointed to the tiniest sliver of a mountain peak poking above the treeline in the distance. "Just past the horizon." Twilight rounded on Trixie, her eyes going wide. "You said we were here!" "We are here, but the volcano is there.” Trixie cocked her head to the side in confusion. “I didn't say we were there, did I?" "Well, then where's here!?" asked Twilight as she threw her hooves into the air. "Here is how we get to there,” said Twilight, motioning walking from one point to another with her hoof. She looked at Twilight. “Do you understand, or should I explain it slower?” "Oh, for the love of—I'm going home. This is stupid." Twilight turned around and started walking back into the jungle she'd just left, leaving Trixie standing alone on the rock. "Aww," said Trixie, hiding her chuckle, "don't be like that. We've only got another three days to go." “Ughhhhh…” Trixie covered her mouth as she laughed quietly. “Don’t worry. She’ll be back,” she said to no one in particular. “She always comes back.” The Joy is in the Journey... Isn't It?Trixie crested a hill, digging her hooves into the dirt until she was standing up straight. The wind played with her mane, tossing it around and in her face, which was annoying, but she ignored it. She grinned, breathing in the crisp valley air—laden with the scent of fresh pine needles, newly-harvested grain, and just a hint of wood smoke from the town—through her nostrils and then letting it out slowly. “It’s good to be back,” she said with a contented sigh. She lingered on the hill for a moment, the sun hanging high overhead and the clouds drifting lazily by. There it was, just at the edge of the horizon—her home. After months of travelling, and months of wandering, and at least one month of begging for for food on the street, followed by a month of unsuccessfully mugging passing ponies for their coin purses she was finally home. Trixie tipped her hat forward and began heading down the other side of the hill. When she reached the bottom, she glanced ahead at the town. “Huh,” she said, “I don’t remember it looking like that. Though, I suppose it has been awhile.” A grin came over her face as she adjusted the brooch holding her cape together. “No matter, the ponies of Hoofington surely haven’t changed.” With a bit of a spring in her step now, Trixie continued on the road into Hoofington, relishing the feel of the dirt beneath her hooves, and the sound of the wind whistling through the grass. Having spent the last few months crossing dry deserts and vast oceans, there was a certain peace to be had simply walking down dirt path. She had fought all manner of creatures, from dragons and giant sandworms to lawyers and intellectual property suits, and now she was taking a well-deserved break. However, as she closed the distance between herself and the town, a nagging feeling nagged at the back of her head. Something felt… off, but she wasn’t sure what it was. It could’ve been the way the wind was blowing, or that she hadn’t bathed in six weeks, but either way she couldn’t shake the feeling. Finally, as she came to the outskirts of the town and saw farmers busy tilling their fields while children ran around laughing and playing, it hit Trixie. She stopped a little unicorn foal as she passed by her. “You there, peasant child. Tell me, what town is this?” she asked, pointing to the gates of the town in front of her. The filly cocked her head to the side. “You mean Lemonwood?” “Lemon—Wait, is this not Hoofington?” “Hoofington?” repeated the filly, frowning. Suddenly, her eyes lit up. “Oooooooh, I’ve heard of that place. Mommy says it’s waaaaaaaaaaaaaay over there,” she said, pointing her hoof back down the road Trixie had come from. Trixie turned around slowly, looking back up the path she’d just spent months traversing. The wind, before so gentle, now simply felt annoying as it blew her mane all around. Trixie pursed her lips, closing her eyes. After a moment, she stamped her hoof and shouted, “Son of a—” MudLeaves tumbled across the path, swirling about in little tornadoes and then dispersing into the surrounding woods as Rarity cantered down the road, a heavy load of moonsilk and the finest fire satin money could buy poking out of saddlebags slung across her back. She was lost in thought, not even paying attention to the road she’d travelled countless times before. Right, okay, that’s those two dresses taken care of. Well, for the most part, anyway. The moonsilk will make a nice base for her dress, but I should think that a dappling of stardew might bring out her true beauty a bit more. She nodded, satisfied. Her hooves moved without any input from her, and she found herself staring at the ground as she continued through the narrow forest path. It’s a shame the fire satin wasn’t ready earlier. I should’ve liked to have started her dress a bit earlier, but the rain was a bit of a problem, or so they said. I should really ask them how they make such fine fabric from fire. It’s wonder the thing doesn’t come out a charred mess. Rarity chuckled a bit to herself. Those salamanders are something else. “Oh!” she said aloud as a thought struck her. She paused for a moment, her eyes alight with the embers of an idea. Nodding, she said, “Yes, yes, I think that should work quite nicely.” Grinning smugly, Rarity started trotting down the path once again. It was a bit out of the way, sure, but it was worth it to her to come all the way to the western reaches in order to get this material. After all, it wasn’t everyday she had the chance to make dresses for royalty, or really anything for that matter. Now then, as for the other dress, what would go nicely with it? I had planned on stitching in some lovely little patterns, but if the one dress is getting stardew, perhaps a bit of morninglight would be in order for the other? She bit her lip, contemplating her options. Well, I little bit of morninglight won’t hurt at any rate. I suppose, should worst come to worst, I can always take it off, though removing morninglight is always a bit of an ordeal in itself. She shrugged. All in the name of fashion, I suppose. It wouldn’t do to have— She stopped mid-thought as she felt her hoof sink into something cold and sticky. Snapping out of her thoughts, she glanced down and saw her normally well-maintained hoof was now covered in a thick brown goop. She had to resist the urge to flick the mud off for fear of damaging the material on her back. Looking up, she saw that the rest of the path was a muddy mess for as far as she could tell. Rarity put her hoof back down slowly, letting out a sigh. After waiting a moment, she said, “Well, I suppose it’ll have to be the long way around this time.” She turned around, groaning a bit inwardly. “I do so hate having to pass through deer territory.” She shuddered a bit. “So uncouth.” Frying-Pan MenSweat rolled down from his forehead, becoming entangled in the thick, matted hair that jutted awkwardly from his jaw, eventually escaping only to become lost once again in the heavy folds that formed what could generously be called his neck. He reached a pizza grease-stained hand up to his forehead, shaky with anticipation, and wiped some of the sweat away, though an outside observer would never be able to tell the difference. He swallowed the last bit of cheeto that had been tumbling around in his mouth like a man on a rowboat during a monsoon as he withdrew his hand from his forehead and wiped it aggressively against his already heavily-stained shirt. Being generous, one could describe his breathing as shallow, but it was anything but. In order for any air whatsoever to even reach his lungs, he had to take deep breaths. The man’s… voluptuous curves made it difficult for anything to get inside him that wasn’t a pizza bagel, or mountain dew. And yet, somehow he had made it work. Perhaps he was more capable than he thought of physical activity. He’d always told his doctor as much, so why couldn’t it be true. As he always told himself, as long as you tell yourself something enough, eventually it has to be true. It was Newton’s third law. That or it was Asimov’s third law of robotics. One or the other, he could never remember. The point being that whether it be through his clear physical prowess, or through some act of lust or greed, or perhaps even an ill-timed bargaining with god (Celestia, of course), he had finished the deed. And as a greasy smile worked its way across his powdered donut-encrusted face, he knew that he had done something great here today. His heart was beating even faster than normal as he became giddy with excitement, ready to tell his RP buddies all about his experience. He grinned like a hog in mud. They would be so jealous once they heard what he’d bought and what he’d done. Now it was just a matter of cleaning up before— Knock. Knock. His head whipped around towards the door. It was hard to see in the darkened room, but he still knew where the sound was coming from. Now fear sweat was mixing with his exertion sweat and meat sweat to form a big pool of sweat in the folds of his stomach. His mind raced, and as he heard another knock, he quickly shouted, “Mom, go away! I’m… playing Destiny with my friends!” Even through the door he could hear her sigh, the same sigh that he heard from her everyday when she came into his room to take the bedpan away. He rolled his eyes. At least she was leaving, and now he could return to his soulmate. In the dim light that filtered through the slightly open curtains he could see her as he looked down. She lay on her back, her arms spread wide, waiting for his embrace. She was covered in sweat and cheeto dust, but she was just as beautiful as the day she’d arrived in the mail. He smiled, reaching a hand out to brush against her cheek. It felt just like a pillow, and that was probably because it was a pillow, but who was he to judge. He knelt down next to her and whispered into her downy ear, “I love you… Scootaloo.” EcclesiazusaeThe small room was lit mostly by the midday sun shining through the windows, but there was a small lamp that hung above the circle of chairs like in those police procedurals where the officer shines a light in the suspect’s eyes. At least, that’s how it felt to Trixie as she waited for her turn in the stupid exercise which she had been court mandated to attend. They always asked the same question, and she always had the same answer. “Would you like to speak next, Silver Streak?” said the old stallion with droopy eyes and an even droopier expression. He gestured to the pony a few seats away from Trixie. Silver Streak nodded slowly. He took a long inhale, then let it out in a sigh. “Yeah, I’ll go. I…” he closed his eyes, his face tightening, “I done some bad things in my time, but I ain’t never regretted nothing until… until…” He hung his head, weeping suddenly. His wails filled the room. The pony next to him patted him awkwardly on the shoulder as he continued to cry like a newborn foal. “Crying is a good sign,” said the droopy stallion in a tone that suggested crying was the last thing he wanted to hear. “It means you feel regret, and regret is exactly what we’re looking for here.” Silver Streak shook his head, wiping the tears from his eyes, though they continued to flow. “I swear I never seen ‘er there. I swear I never woulda done that if I’d known… if I’d known that she… I’m so sorry, lady. I ain’t mean to hurt you or your baby. I’m so so sorry…” The pony next to him kept patting on his shoulder as he turned to his other side and wept on a second pony’s shoulder. Trixie rolled her eyes. “Good, good,” said the droopy stallion with a bored voice. “Stargleam?” The mare next to Trixie nodded. “I regret a lot of things, doc, but the thing I regret the most is the storm. I knew…” she sighed, “I knew I couldn’t handle it. I knew I should have told my boss as much, but it was close to performance review time, and I knew if I impressed him I’d get that raise I always wanted.” A single tear rolled down her cheek. “All those ponies… all for a stupid storm. I should have told him. I should have told him…” The droopy stallion nodded. Next he turned to Trixie. His eyebrows rose. “Trixie, do you have anything you’d like to talk about?” Trixie shrugged. “No. I’m good.” The stallion sighed. “Are you sure you don’t have any regrets? Anything you’d like to share?” “Why should I?” Trixie chuckled quietly. “I’m fucking Trixie. I regret nothing.” “You say that every time, Trixie,” said the stallion with a heavy sigh. “Frankly, I think you’re just hiding some insecurity. After all, it’s not possible to have no regrets. Trixie, I have something I’d like you to try.” He produced a small orb from an inner pocket on his jacket. “This orb can tell me if you’re truthful or not.” He tossed the orb to Trixie, and she caught it with her magic. “Sure,” said Trixie nonchalantly, “whatever.” She held the orb up, and then spoke to it, saying, “I have no regrets. I’m the best there’s ever been.” The orb was silent for a long time. It floated there motionless. Then, after an uncomfortable silence, it finally spoke. “Huh… she’s telling the truth.” Trixie shrugged. “I told you. Can I go now?” The droopy stallion gave a droopy sigh. “Dammit… Here,” he said, pulling some papers off his desk and shoving them in Trixie’s face. “Sign these and then you can go.” Snatching the papers out of the air, Trixie’s horn lit up and she signed her name in magic, with a cute little star where the i’s were. Smirking, she handed the papers back and tossed the orb in the air, bouncing it on her shoulder. She threw open the door and trotted jauntily out of the room, into the hallway. As she left, the sound of her singing to herself could be heard echoing down the halls: “You better believe, I got tricks up my sleeve…” Caro NomeAria lay on her back, her legs crossed, lazily kicking one foot so that her sandal made a quiet thumping sound against the base of her heel. The grass felt nice and cool against her skin, as did the breeze. The sunshine pouring down on her kept it from becoming too cool, and resulted in a very comfortable feeling. But despite all this, Aria couldn't shake the feeling she'd come here to escape. Somewhere, in the back of her head, in the deepest recesses of her mind, she replayed the incident over and over again, searching, like a VCR tech, for that one skip in the tape, the one frame of black that indicated something was wrong. She heaved a heavy sigh, her hands placed behind her head as she stared up at the passing clouds. Try as she might though, they yielded no answers to her. Even the wind whispering in her ear told her nothing she wanted to hear. "Adagio..." Aria didn't even realize she'd said her name until it had already escaped her lips and floated out into the ether. Her hand shot out, grasping at nothing, opening closing in the empty air. She frowned. "I know," she told herself, pulling her hand back. "I don't have to remind me." Aria rolled over, lying face down in the grass. Her hand balled into a fist and she punched the ground. She groaned at herself. "Aria, you idiot," she said, her voice muffled, "you know exactly what you did. Why are you pretending? What are you hiding from?" She pursed her lips. "Don't be stupid. You know that one too. In fact, you even know what you have to do. So, stop moping and go tell her how you really feel. Tell her it was just a mistake, and that you didn’t mean… even though you definitely did." Pushing herself up, Aria brushed herself off and glanced up at the sky, grinning. She was about to make her way down the hill when she saw something off towards the school coming over the horizon. Cresting a different hill, a figure appeared. Aria recognized her, and the way she walked, immediately. "Adagio..." The name found itself on Aria's lips once more. But this time, however, it was accompanied by a smile, and then shortly followed by the two words that had first landed her in this predicament. "Dem hips..." L For...Wind rushed past her as she soared through the sky on angel wings. It played with her mane, blowing it about. Her tail bobbed up and down as the air currents passed over it. Her eyes began to water from the stinging wind. She squinted but kept her speed up. Rivers, valleys, and fields passed below her at incredible speeds. The sun's rays beat down harshly on her. A dull, lightning bolt-shaped ruby attached to a gold necklace hung about her neck. She could feel its weight as it bounced against her chest in the wind. Her fore-hooves were stretched out before her as her wings beat faster and faster, picking up more speed. The rhythmic flapping of her wings, and the rush of the wind were the only things she heard as she flew. From this height, she could see Ponyville with its many little houses and numerous inhabitants milling about. She rose up higher, beating her wings harder to gain more lift. The vast expanse of clear blue sky spread out in front of her. There were no more than a handful of clouds in the sky; the sun was able to rain its light down freely. She banked west, turning her body to glide smoothly on the wind. Just on the edge of her vision she could see it; her home lay just a few flaps of her wings away. She gritted her teeth, narrowing her body and picking up more speed. She could still feel the weight of the ruby, but she refused to look down at it. Her eyes were focused on the mass of clouds in front of her. Tens of thousands of trees passed beneath her as she flew over a forest. A tiny stream was barely visible through the canopy of leaves. The tiniest smile began to break through her tightly pursed lips. It tugged at the corners of her mouth, begging to be freed. She pushed it back. The amalgamation of clouds before her coalesced into familiar structures as she neared her home. A few moments later, and she was bursting through the door of her home. She breathed a silent sigh as she saw her home, just the way she had left it. The soft clouds beneath her hooves depressed in a sponge-like way as she walked through her living room and into her bedroom. Sweat trickled down her forehead, mingling with the tears forming in her eyes. She hurried to the nightstand next to her downy bed. With careful haste, she pulled open the drawer, and peered inside. It was still there. She reached in and pulled out a thin piece of paper. Her eyes began to water as she looked at the six ponies in the picture. All five of them were there, along with herself, surrounding her. She placed a hoof on the photo, running it across the surface. She pretended to brush her violet mane as she stared fondly at her. The photo shook as a teardrop landed on it, splashing across her face. Then another and another fell. They drowned the ponies. She clenched her eyes shut, forcing more tears out. “I'm sorry,” she said softly. “I'm sorry.”
Under the Apple TreesApplejack's coat glistened with sweat as she walked through the orchard. One, two, three. The late-afternoon sun beat down on her back. Four, five, six. She stopped for a moment to wipe the sticky sweat from her brow, glancing up to the sky in time to see an eagle pass by. A small smile parted her lips; her teeth were barely visible beneath her gums. She felt the crisp grass beneath her hooves as she walked past tree after tree laden with sweet-smelling apples. Nine, Ten—shoot. How many was it again? Applejack's brow furrowed as she tapped a hoof against her forehead. Her eyes lit up suddenly. It's thirteen, then Ah go left. She grinned, pleased with herself. Eleven, twelve—and thirteen. She stopped at the thirteenth tree, making a sharp left turn, and then began counting again. Four down, then one right. A calm breeze swept through the orchard as she walked; it rustled the leaves, played with her mane. Thee—and four. She stopped again, looking up at the plump apples hanging from the tree. Hanging right around the fourth tree, she stopped at the next one. Ah'm here. She approached the tree slowly, taking off her hat and holding it over her chest. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she looked at the tree trunk. Carved into the bark were four letters encompassed by straight-edged heart: “AW+HC”. “Howdy, Ma,” said Applejack quietly. “And you too, Pa.” She carefully set her hat down next the tree then brought her hoof up to the heart that encompassed the initials. She ran her hoof across the bark, feeling the grooves of both the tree and the carving. A gust of wind blew past her, ruffling her mane. She smiled. “It's been awhile since Ah've come,” she said softly. “Ah'm real sorry about that. Ah've just been so busy around the farm,” she said apologetically. “Y'all know how that is.” She breathed deeply through her nose, allowing the scent of apples and tree sap to mix into a pleasant bittersweet combination. “Ah came to see y'all 'cus Ah almost lost myself today.” She placed her forehead against the tree; the rough bark brought a smile to her face and her eyes began to water. “Ah don't know what Ah woulda done if it weren't for Twi.” Tears began to roll down her cheeks. They fell to the ground, splashing against the protruding roots. “She saved me. Heck—she saved all of us. She showed us what friendship truly means, and Ah can't thank her enough for that.” She took a few steps back from the tree. The leaves rustled, and the apples bobbed in the wind. She stared at the carving, tears welling in her eyes. “Well, Ah guess that's all Ah had to say,” she chuckled softly. “Ah promise to come back and visit real soon, and Ah'll tell Big Mac y'all said 'howdy'.” She picked up her hat and turned to walk away, but an apple fell in front of her. She bent down to pick it up and examined it. A wide grin spread across her face. She closed her eyes and took a generous bite out of the side. The crunchy sweetness filled her mouth as she chewed. She looked up at the tree and tilted her hat down, nodding her head. “Thank ya kindly.” Taking another bite, she turned around and walked away as another gust of wind blew past her, rustling the leaves.
Wings of an Angel“What are you—a chicken?” Scootaloo said in a mock sing-song voice. She was clambering her way up a steep slope, mumbling to herself. “Chicken, huh? I'll show them.” Her tiny hooves awkwardly grasped at rocks as she pulled herself up the mountainside. She grunted as she lifted herself onto a small plateau. The rock felt chill against her back as she sat on her haunches, resting. Her breathing was ragged, and she was dripping with sweat. With one hoof to placed above her brow, she scanned the sky. There was not a cloud in the sky. She licked her lips as a toothy grin spread across her face. Taking a deep breath she stood and dusted herself off. She heaved herself up and continued climbing. Her weak muscles strained under the pressure. Exhaling with each thrust, she moved slowly but surely, higher. Within a few minutes, she had reached the penultimate rock. Its craggy surface was the last obstacle. She cracked her neck and ruffled her feathers. With the combination of her hooves pulling herself up and the beating of her wings to provide a small amount of lift, she was finally able to crest the massive stone. When she had reached the top, she threw herself down, splaying out on the hard slab. She rolled on to her back and stared up at the sky. She closed her eyes and basked in the sun's warm rays for a few moments—her chest slowly heaving up and down—before rolling back over. Her rosy mane was sticky with sweat; it stuck to her cheeks like glue. She shook her head, showering the rocks with salty water. She inched towards the edge of the cliff, peering over the precipice. Her heart skipped a beat. The ground seemed so far away. The trees were merely green sticks in the distance. She felt a lump in her throat. She swallowed hard, taking a few steps back. “I came this far,” she said firmly. Her face contorted into a look of determination. Her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed. She bit her lip, shuffling her feet. “Okay,” she said finally. “I'm ready.” Clenching her eyes shut, she galloped towards the edge, flapping her tiny wings as hard as possible. She jumped. For a brief moment, she felt as if she were floating. She opened one eye slowly, then the other. Looking around, she saw the vast blue sky in front of her. A smile cracked across her face. Then—she fell. As quickly as her joy had come, it left her, replaced by sudden fear. She flapped her scrawny wings with all her strength. Her heart raced as she plummeted towards the ground. She shut her eyes fearfully, turning her body in a futile attempt to cushion the impact. She waited for the inevitable, wondering what it was going to feel like. Tears flew past her in the wind. She felt herself stop suddenly. She opened her eyes slowly, sure that she had hit the ground by now. A multitude of colors waved in front of her. She could feel soft, blue fur beneath her. She no longer felt as though she were falling. Rather, she felt as if she were rising. “Rainbow—Dash?” she said slowly. Rainbow glanced over her shoulder, a smirk adorning her muzzle. “Don't worry, squirt,” she said reassuringly. “I've got you.” Scootaloo's eyes watered; tears streamed down her cheeks moistening her fur. She leaned down wrapping her hooves around Rainbow's neck. She nuzzled her warmly. “Thank you.”
NoisesTwilight trotted down the streets, her mane and tail bouncing gleefully. The sun shined through the clouds, and all of Ponyville seemed to be out and about enjoying the weather. Spike rode on her back holding a checklist in one claw and a quill in the other. “Okay,” said Spike. “We got quills.” “Check,” responded Twilight and Spike scratched check mark onto the paper. “And we spoke to Cheerilee about getting chalk.” “Check.” Spike made another check mark. “So that just leaves...” His voice trailed off as he read the list. Rolling his eyes, he said: “Get more owl food.” “Check. I mean, right,” Twilight giggled. “Uh huh,” Spike said slowly. “So, where are we gonna get owl food?” “There's a place—” Twilight was interrupted by a sudden hissing from behind her. “Twilight!” Twilight spun around. Her and Spike's heads swiveled as they searched for the source of the voice. “Up here.” They craned their necks, looking up to the second story window where Pinkie Pie was hiding—just barely—behind the curtains. “Pinkie?” said Twilight as she tilted her head to the side. Pinkie inched out from behind the curtain and whispered down to them: “I need you. You have to come up here right now.” Twilight glanced over her shoulder at Spike; he shrugged. She rolled her eyes then trotted up to the door. They stepped inside and headed upstairs. In the room furthest from them, they found Pinkie backed against a corner. Twilight's lips pursed, and her eyebrows rose. “Pinkie, what are you doing?” Pinkie pointed to the door across from them. “There's something under the sink. I keep hearing scratching sounds coming from it,” she said, holding the curtain up to cover her face. Twilight sighed. “I'm sure it's nothing,” she said plainly. “I'll show you.” Spike hopped off her back, and she approached the door slowly. Her horn began to glow as she turned the handle and slowly pushed the door open. Inside she could see a sink with a cupboard below it. She stepped inside and leaned her head down so that it was level with the cupboard. “See,” she said, nodding her head towards the cupboard. “Nothin—” She was interrupted by the sound of something scratching the wood. She jumped back, hitting her head against the edge of the sink. Twilight rubbed her head as she said: “What in Celestia's name was that?” Pinkie, curtains still covering all of her face, responded: “I told you.” Twilight backed away slowly. “Okay, we need a plan.” Several minutes later, Spike, Twilight, and Pinkie stood in a semi-circle around the cupboard. Each of them clutched a different weapon. Twilight raised her frying pan high as Spike readied his tennis racket and Pinkie's grip tightened around her oven mitt. “Ready?” Twilight said, looking around the group. They nodded. She nodded back, and her horn began to glow. “One, two, three!” As she shouted “three”, she threw open the cupboard doors. A tiny green alligator tumbled out onto the tiled floor. “There you are Gummy! I was wondering where you went,” Pinkie giggled cheerfully. She scooped Gummy up and placed him on her head. Humming to herself, she bounced away. Twilight's jaw dropped. Still holding the frying pan, she turned to Spike; he shrugged his shoulders. She tossed the frying pan aside and lifted Spike onto her back. “Come on,” she said. “Let's go get that owl food.”
More Than a Magician“Why that little!” Rainbow Dash lifted into the sky, her face scrunched into a scowl. She beat her wings, ready to speed off, but Twilight stopped her. “Just let her go,” she said calmly. Twilight looked up at Rainbow Dash and said coolly: “Maybe some day she'll learn her lesson.” With a sigh, Rainbow floated back down. Twilight turned her attention to the two little colts standing a few feet away from her. “Now,” she said. “About you two...” Twilight threw herself onto her bed, allowing herself to sink into its downy softness. Spike had fallen asleep in the other room as soon as they got home, but she had stayed up. Something in the back of her mind told her that she knew that mare. After several hours of scanning yearbooks, and photo albums, however, she had turned up nothing. Eventually, she had to give up the search until the next day. Now she lay in the warm embrace of her comforter. She rolled over and lay her head against the pillow, dragging another over to cover her eyes. Sleep began to ease its way in slowly. “Hello, Twilight.” The sudden removal of the pillow yanked Twilight from her slumber. Her mouth hanging agape, Twilight looked up to see a mare leaning over her. “Trixie?” She nearly stumbled over the last few letters as they spilled from her mouth. Trixie's lips curled into a thin smile. She leaned in; her snout nearly touched Twilight's, and her eyes seemed to glint in the moonlight. “I—I saw you leave,” Twilight said quietly. “Did you?” Trixie asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I don't understand.” Twilight's mane rustled as she slowly shook her head. “What do you want?” “Ah,” said Trixie as she moved her hoof to Twilight's face. “Now that is an interesting question.” She brushed the loose strands of hair out of Twilight's eyes, causing her to recoil. “Are you afraid of me?” Trixie's smile turned to a simper. One hoof on either side of Twilight's head, Trixie leaned in further; her mane flowed like a waterfall onto Twilight's chest. “I want what I've always wanted,” she said finally, running her hoof across Twilight's face. “Mom and Dad were always so proud of you,” she said. “You were Celestia's faithful student after all.” Trixie ran a hoof through Twilight's mane. “I guess I wasn't good enough for you,” she lamented with a sigh. Twilight's eyes shot open. She turned her head to stare into Trixie's eyes. Her mouth opened slowly. “Lula—moon?” she said softly. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth with each “l”. “I—I thought y—you died...” she stammered as her voice trailed off. Lulamoon's smile soured. Her face scrunched up. “Yes,” she answered evenly. “I suppose it would've looked that way.” “I—I can't believe you're alive.” Twilight's eyes grew into saucers. “W—what do you want?” Lulamoon's smile returned. “Your attention,” she answered smoothly. Her words seemed to flow out like water, drowning Twilight. “Well, you have it now.” Twilight smiled uneasily. “I'm sure I do,” Lulamoon replied sweetly. Her horn began to glow. A pillow glided gently through the air, slowly sliding across Twilight's face as her eyes grew even larger. “N—” she started to protest before the pillow's smothering cut her off. A wicked grin came over Lulamoon's face as she moved her hooves over the pillow and pressed down.
The LocketThe 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.”
Pancakes and ApplesMy 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.
RestorationCold, 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.”
On the Trail We Blaze"This is getting utterly absurd," complained Twilight as she squeezed through a particularly thorny patch of vines that tugged at her mane and tail. Fighting them off like the brave hero she was, Twilight got tangled on a rather large thorn and stomped her hooves angrily. "These freaking thorns are seriously getting on my nerves! Gah!" She kicked the bejeezus out of the poor vine until it was crumpled and limp. Once she’d shirked it off, she asked, "Are we even close to being there yet?" Wielding a dulled machete in her magic (since Twilight wouldn't let her sharpen it), Trixie puffed out her chest triumphantly as she cut down the last swath of vegetation before her, revealing a vast canyon overlooked by ominous cliffs. "Why yes, Twilight, yes in fact we are here.” She then added, under her breath, “No thanks to your incessant whining." Twilight rolled her eyes. "Whatever, let's just get this thing and be done with it. Who the heck hides their family fortune in a secret hollowed-out volcano lair anyway? And why in Celestia's name is it way the crap out here?" Shoving aside a nosey squirrel and stepping over some more vines, Twilight said, “What, you guys couldn’t find a hollowed-out volcano a little closer to… well, anywhere?” "Tsk tsk," said Trixie, clicking her tongue. "Those are questions best left for another time. For right now, let's simply enjoy the moment. And for the record, no. This was the nearest volcano. Turns out they’re not as common as you might think.” "Screw that," said Twilight, finally escaping the vines and heaving herself up onto the rock Trixie was standing on. "I just want to be done with—what the?" Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked out over the canyon with not a volcano in sight. "I thought you said we were here?" "We are.” "Then where's the volcano?" "Over there." Trixie pointed to the tiniest sliver of a mountain peak poking above the treeline in the distance. "Just past the horizon." Twilight rounded on Trixie, her eyes going wide. "You said we were here!" "We are here, but the volcano is there.” Trixie cocked her head to the side in confusion. “I didn't say we were there, did I?" "Well, then where's here!?" asked Twilight as she threw her hooves into the air. "Here is how we get to there,” said Twilight, motioning walking from one point to another with her hoof. She looked at Twilight. “Do you understand, or should I explain it slower?” "Oh, for the love of—I'm going home. This is stupid." Twilight turned around and started walking back into the jungle she'd just left, leaving Trixie standing alone on the rock. "Aww," said Trixie, hiding her chuckle, "don't be like that. We've only got another three days to go." “Ughhhhh…” Trixie covered her mouth as she laughed quietly. “Don’t worry. She’ll be back,” she said to no one in particular. “She always comes back.”
The Joy is in the Journey... Isn't It?Trixie crested a hill, digging her hooves into the dirt until she was standing up straight. The wind played with her mane, tossing it around and in her face, which was annoying, but she ignored it. She grinned, breathing in the crisp valley air—laden with the scent of fresh pine needles, newly-harvested grain, and just a hint of wood smoke from the town—through her nostrils and then letting it out slowly. “It’s good to be back,” she said with a contented sigh. She lingered on the hill for a moment, the sun hanging high overhead and the clouds drifting lazily by. There it was, just at the edge of the horizon—her home. After months of travelling, and months of wandering, and at least one month of begging for for food on the street, followed by a month of unsuccessfully mugging passing ponies for their coin purses she was finally home. Trixie tipped her hat forward and began heading down the other side of the hill. When she reached the bottom, she glanced ahead at the town. “Huh,” she said, “I don’t remember it looking like that. Though, I suppose it has been awhile.” A grin came over her face as she adjusted the brooch holding her cape together. “No matter, the ponies of Hoofington surely haven’t changed.” With a bit of a spring in her step now, Trixie continued on the road into Hoofington, relishing the feel of the dirt beneath her hooves, and the sound of the wind whistling through the grass. Having spent the last few months crossing dry deserts and vast oceans, there was a certain peace to be had simply walking down dirt path. She had fought all manner of creatures, from dragons and giant sandworms to lawyers and intellectual property suits, and now she was taking a well-deserved break. However, as she closed the distance between herself and the town, a nagging feeling nagged at the back of her head. Something felt… off, but she wasn’t sure what it was. It could’ve been the way the wind was blowing, or that she hadn’t bathed in six weeks, but either way she couldn’t shake the feeling. Finally, as she came to the outskirts of the town and saw farmers busy tilling their fields while children ran around laughing and playing, it hit Trixie. She stopped a little unicorn foal as she passed by her. “You there, peasant child. Tell me, what town is this?” she asked, pointing to the gates of the town in front of her. The filly cocked her head to the side. “You mean Lemonwood?” “Lemon—Wait, is this not Hoofington?” “Hoofington?” repeated the filly, frowning. Suddenly, her eyes lit up. “Oooooooh, I’ve heard of that place. Mommy says it’s waaaaaaaaaaaaaay over there,” she said, pointing her hoof back down the road Trixie had come from. Trixie turned around slowly, looking back up the path she’d just spent months traversing. The wind, before so gentle, now simply felt annoying as it blew her mane all around. Trixie pursed her lips, closing her eyes. After a moment, she stamped her hoof and shouted, “Son of a—”
MudLeaves tumbled across the path, swirling about in little tornadoes and then dispersing into the surrounding woods as Rarity cantered down the road, a heavy load of moonsilk and the finest fire satin money could buy poking out of saddlebags slung across her back. She was lost in thought, not even paying attention to the road she’d travelled countless times before. Right, okay, that’s those two dresses taken care of. Well, for the most part, anyway. The moonsilk will make a nice base for her dress, but I should think that a dappling of stardew might bring out her true beauty a bit more. She nodded, satisfied. Her hooves moved without any input from her, and she found herself staring at the ground as she continued through the narrow forest path. It’s a shame the fire satin wasn’t ready earlier. I should’ve liked to have started her dress a bit earlier, but the rain was a bit of a problem, or so they said. I should really ask them how they make such fine fabric from fire. It’s wonder the thing doesn’t come out a charred mess. Rarity chuckled a bit to herself. Those salamanders are something else. “Oh!” she said aloud as a thought struck her. She paused for a moment, her eyes alight with the embers of an idea. Nodding, she said, “Yes, yes, I think that should work quite nicely.” Grinning smugly, Rarity started trotting down the path once again. It was a bit out of the way, sure, but it was worth it to her to come all the way to the western reaches in order to get this material. After all, it wasn’t everyday she had the chance to make dresses for royalty, or really anything for that matter. Now then, as for the other dress, what would go nicely with it? I had planned on stitching in some lovely little patterns, but if the one dress is getting stardew, perhaps a bit of morninglight would be in order for the other? She bit her lip, contemplating her options. Well, I little bit of morninglight won’t hurt at any rate. I suppose, should worst come to worst, I can always take it off, though removing morninglight is always a bit of an ordeal in itself. She shrugged. All in the name of fashion, I suppose. It wouldn’t do to have— She stopped mid-thought as she felt her hoof sink into something cold and sticky. Snapping out of her thoughts, she glanced down and saw her normally well-maintained hoof was now covered in a thick brown goop. She had to resist the urge to flick the mud off for fear of damaging the material on her back. Looking up, she saw that the rest of the path was a muddy mess for as far as she could tell. Rarity put her hoof back down slowly, letting out a sigh. After waiting a moment, she said, “Well, I suppose it’ll have to be the long way around this time.” She turned around, groaning a bit inwardly. “I do so hate having to pass through deer territory.” She shuddered a bit. “So uncouth.”
Frying-Pan MenSweat rolled down from his forehead, becoming entangled in the thick, matted hair that jutted awkwardly from his jaw, eventually escaping only to become lost once again in the heavy folds that formed what could generously be called his neck. He reached a pizza grease-stained hand up to his forehead, shaky with anticipation, and wiped some of the sweat away, though an outside observer would never be able to tell the difference. He swallowed the last bit of cheeto that had been tumbling around in his mouth like a man on a rowboat during a monsoon as he withdrew his hand from his forehead and wiped it aggressively against his already heavily-stained shirt. Being generous, one could describe his breathing as shallow, but it was anything but. In order for any air whatsoever to even reach his lungs, he had to take deep breaths. The man’s… voluptuous curves made it difficult for anything to get inside him that wasn’t a pizza bagel, or mountain dew. And yet, somehow he had made it work. Perhaps he was more capable than he thought of physical activity. He’d always told his doctor as much, so why couldn’t it be true. As he always told himself, as long as you tell yourself something enough, eventually it has to be true. It was Newton’s third law. That or it was Asimov’s third law of robotics. One or the other, he could never remember. The point being that whether it be through his clear physical prowess, or through some act of lust or greed, or perhaps even an ill-timed bargaining with god (Celestia, of course), he had finished the deed. And as a greasy smile worked its way across his powdered donut-encrusted face, he knew that he had done something great here today. His heart was beating even faster than normal as he became giddy with excitement, ready to tell his RP buddies all about his experience. He grinned like a hog in mud. They would be so jealous once they heard what he’d bought and what he’d done. Now it was just a matter of cleaning up before— Knock. Knock. His head whipped around towards the door. It was hard to see in the darkened room, but he still knew where the sound was coming from. Now fear sweat was mixing with his exertion sweat and meat sweat to form a big pool of sweat in the folds of his stomach. His mind raced, and as he heard another knock, he quickly shouted, “Mom, go away! I’m… playing Destiny with my friends!” Even through the door he could hear her sigh, the same sigh that he heard from her everyday when she came into his room to take the bedpan away. He rolled his eyes. At least she was leaving, and now he could return to his soulmate. In the dim light that filtered through the slightly open curtains he could see her as he looked down. She lay on her back, her arms spread wide, waiting for his embrace. She was covered in sweat and cheeto dust, but she was just as beautiful as the day she’d arrived in the mail. He smiled, reaching a hand out to brush against her cheek. It felt just like a pillow, and that was probably because it was a pillow, but who was he to judge. He knelt down next to her and whispered into her downy ear, “I love you… Scootaloo.”
EcclesiazusaeThe small room was lit mostly by the midday sun shining through the windows, but there was a small lamp that hung above the circle of chairs like in those police procedurals where the officer shines a light in the suspect’s eyes. At least, that’s how it felt to Trixie as she waited for her turn in the stupid exercise which she had been court mandated to attend. They always asked the same question, and she always had the same answer. “Would you like to speak next, Silver Streak?” said the old stallion with droopy eyes and an even droopier expression. He gestured to the pony a few seats away from Trixie. Silver Streak nodded slowly. He took a long inhale, then let it out in a sigh. “Yeah, I’ll go. I…” he closed his eyes, his face tightening, “I done some bad things in my time, but I ain’t never regretted nothing until… until…” He hung his head, weeping suddenly. His wails filled the room. The pony next to him patted him awkwardly on the shoulder as he continued to cry like a newborn foal. “Crying is a good sign,” said the droopy stallion in a tone that suggested crying was the last thing he wanted to hear. “It means you feel regret, and regret is exactly what we’re looking for here.” Silver Streak shook his head, wiping the tears from his eyes, though they continued to flow. “I swear I never seen ‘er there. I swear I never woulda done that if I’d known… if I’d known that she… I’m so sorry, lady. I ain’t mean to hurt you or your baby. I’m so so sorry…” The pony next to him kept patting on his shoulder as he turned to his other side and wept on a second pony’s shoulder. Trixie rolled her eyes. “Good, good,” said the droopy stallion with a bored voice. “Stargleam?” The mare next to Trixie nodded. “I regret a lot of things, doc, but the thing I regret the most is the storm. I knew…” she sighed, “I knew I couldn’t handle it. I knew I should have told my boss as much, but it was close to performance review time, and I knew if I impressed him I’d get that raise I always wanted.” A single tear rolled down her cheek. “All those ponies… all for a stupid storm. I should have told him. I should have told him…” The droopy stallion nodded. Next he turned to Trixie. His eyebrows rose. “Trixie, do you have anything you’d like to talk about?” Trixie shrugged. “No. I’m good.” The stallion sighed. “Are you sure you don’t have any regrets? Anything you’d like to share?” “Why should I?” Trixie chuckled quietly. “I’m fucking Trixie. I regret nothing.” “You say that every time, Trixie,” said the stallion with a heavy sigh. “Frankly, I think you’re just hiding some insecurity. After all, it’s not possible to have no regrets. Trixie, I have something I’d like you to try.” He produced a small orb from an inner pocket on his jacket. “This orb can tell me if you’re truthful or not.” He tossed the orb to Trixie, and she caught it with her magic. “Sure,” said Trixie nonchalantly, “whatever.” She held the orb up, and then spoke to it, saying, “I have no regrets. I’m the best there’s ever been.” The orb was silent for a long time. It floated there motionless. Then, after an uncomfortable silence, it finally spoke. “Huh… she’s telling the truth.” Trixie shrugged. “I told you. Can I go now?” The droopy stallion gave a droopy sigh. “Dammit… Here,” he said, pulling some papers off his desk and shoving them in Trixie’s face. “Sign these and then you can go.” Snatching the papers out of the air, Trixie’s horn lit up and she signed her name in magic, with a cute little star where the i’s were. Smirking, she handed the papers back and tossed the orb in the air, bouncing it on her shoulder. She threw open the door and trotted jauntily out of the room, into the hallway. As she left, the sound of her singing to herself could be heard echoing down the halls: “You better believe, I got tricks up my sleeve…”
Caro NomeAria lay on her back, her legs crossed, lazily kicking one foot so that her sandal made a quiet thumping sound against the base of her heel. The grass felt nice and cool against her skin, as did the breeze. The sunshine pouring down on her kept it from becoming too cool, and resulted in a very comfortable feeling. But despite all this, Aria couldn't shake the feeling she'd come here to escape. Somewhere, in the back of her head, in the deepest recesses of her mind, she replayed the incident over and over again, searching, like a VCR tech, for that one skip in the tape, the one frame of black that indicated something was wrong. She heaved a heavy sigh, her hands placed behind her head as she stared up at the passing clouds. Try as she might though, they yielded no answers to her. Even the wind whispering in her ear told her nothing she wanted to hear. "Adagio..." Aria didn't even realize she'd said her name until it had already escaped her lips and floated out into the ether. Her hand shot out, grasping at nothing, opening closing in the empty air. She frowned. "I know," she told herself, pulling her hand back. "I don't have to remind me." Aria rolled over, lying face down in the grass. Her hand balled into a fist and she punched the ground. She groaned at herself. "Aria, you idiot," she said, her voice muffled, "you know exactly what you did. Why are you pretending? What are you hiding from?" She pursed her lips. "Don't be stupid. You know that one too. In fact, you even know what you have to do. So, stop moping and go tell her how you really feel. Tell her it was just a mistake, and that you didn’t mean… even though you definitely did." Pushing herself up, Aria brushed herself off and glanced up at the sky, grinning. She was about to make her way down the hill when she saw something off towards the school coming over the horizon. Cresting a different hill, a figure appeared. Aria recognized her, and the way she walked, immediately. "Adagio..." The name found itself on Aria's lips once more. But this time, however, it was accompanied by a smile, and then shortly followed by the two words that had first landed her in this predicament. "Dem hips..."
L For...Wind rushed past her as she soared through the sky on angel wings. It played with her mane, blowing it about. Her tail bobbed up and down as the air currents passed over it. Her eyes began to water from the stinging wind. She squinted but kept her speed up. Rivers, valleys, and fields passed below her at incredible speeds. The sun's rays beat down harshly on her. A dull, lightning bolt-shaped ruby attached to a gold necklace hung about her neck. She could feel its weight as it bounced against her chest in the wind. Her fore-hooves were stretched out before her as her wings beat faster and faster, picking up more speed. The rhythmic flapping of her wings, and the rush of the wind were the only things she heard as she flew. From this height, she could see Ponyville with its many little houses and numerous inhabitants milling about. She rose up higher, beating her wings harder to gain more lift. The vast expanse of clear blue sky spread out in front of her. There were no more than a handful of clouds in the sky; the sun was able to rain its light down freely. She banked west, turning her body to glide smoothly on the wind. Just on the edge of her vision she could see it; her home lay just a few flaps of her wings away. She gritted her teeth, narrowing her body and picking up more speed. She could still feel the weight of the ruby, but she refused to look down at it. Her eyes were focused on the mass of clouds in front of her. Tens of thousands of trees passed beneath her as she flew over a forest. A tiny stream was barely visible through the canopy of leaves. The tiniest smile began to break through her tightly pursed lips. It tugged at the corners of her mouth, begging to be freed. She pushed it back. The amalgamation of clouds before her coalesced into familiar structures as she neared her home. A few moments later, and she was bursting through the door of her home. She breathed a silent sigh as she saw her home, just the way she had left it. The soft clouds beneath her hooves depressed in a sponge-like way as she walked through her living room and into her bedroom. Sweat trickled down her forehead, mingling with the tears forming in her eyes. She hurried to the nightstand next to her downy bed. With careful haste, she pulled open the drawer, and peered inside. It was still there. She reached in and pulled out a thin piece of paper. Her eyes began to water as she looked at the six ponies in the picture. All five of them were there, along with herself, surrounding her. She placed a hoof on the photo, running it across the surface. She pretended to brush her violet mane as she stared fondly at her. The photo shook as a teardrop landed on it, splashing across her face. Then another and another fell. They drowned the ponies. She clenched her eyes shut, forcing more tears out. “I'm sorry,” she said softly. “I'm sorry.”
