Mirror: Book I - Mind

“Rather tacky, is it not?” A unicorn asked her.

Starlight was caught in a silent stare with the statue in the fountain until the voice drew her otherwise. The questioning mare was none other than the artist, the fashionista, the village seamstress herself, Miss Rarity. She was levitating a bundle of sewing supplies in her magic, mostly likely returning to her shop to get some work done.

“I guess.” Starlight shrugged.

“No need to be alarmed, I catch myself studying the minute details too.” Rarity added. “Every once in a while.”

“That’s the artist in you talking, Rarity.” Starlight remarked.

“And the artist in me says there’s an artist in everypony.”

“I once thought that way, too.”

“What do you mean by that?” Rarity questioned.

Starlight considered her answer. “Never mind.” She decided. “I suppose I’d just be reaching.”

“Found you!” Spike came sputtering up, and skidded to a halt. “Oh, well hello, Rarity.”

“Why if isn’t my favorite little dragon.” Rarity dolled. “Such refined, handsome cheeks you’ve got.”

“Ah, stop it.” The dragon hugged his tail and blushed bashfully as the seamstress pinched his face with her magic.

It appeared that Spike had completely forgotten his purpose for retrieving Starlight, his heart fluttering like a young child’s and the song of birds dancing around the air, increasing in volume for every second more he stared at Rarity. The elegant unicorn had learned by now to accept the young one’s affection towards her in small doses, congratulating him with easy compliments as though to keep his enthusiasm at bay. After seven years the poor dragon still thought he might have a genuine chance, but alas it would always be a relationship much like one between a sister and her younger brother, a friend but not quite a partner. Spike was too hypnotized to even notice half the time, and at the moment he was hovering mid-air before her, hearts popping around his head and half-lidded eyes.

Rarity reached into her saddle bag and produced a small, blue pill-sized crystal. As she had come to call these “Spiky-snacks” Rarity had learned to keep these precious gems and minerals on her should she seek to appease Spike’s “romantic” on-goings. Starlight witnessing both sides of the dilemma, she determined that neither side could be helped, it might as well have gone on like this forever. Rarity wasn’t so prepared to let that happen as she turned to her friend.

“Shall we walk?” Rarity offered. “I hear a certain magician has planned a special return this evening.”

“I’d feel irresponsible to decline.” Starlight accepted. She knew denying the offer would only lead to a domino effect of regrets later on, or at least result in less problems than what the latter had to offer. It seemed as though Starlight’s closest friends were those who knew how to bring trouble to the table, whether it be on purpose of just a hazard of theirs. The unicorn herself felt deep down that she was trying her best in this new town. A new residence, a new beginning.

They walked without a word to one another along the silted roads, Spike hovering behind. A few birds buzzed by and the sun cast its ray at just the right angle upon the intended path they were taking, a collection of posters illuminated silvery-blue by the midday light. The posters featured the silhouette of a unicorn adorned in a cape and a wizard’s cap, striking an eye-grabbing, enchanting pose with the accumulation of pink smoke puffing around her hooves.

「WITNESS: The Great and Powerful Trixie’s Magical Mismatch Show – 2 BIT ENTRY REQUIRED」

The poster was followed by an arrow pointing in the direction of the show, and that was if the forming crowd of ponies wasn’t obvious enough. Some young colts had the funny idea of switching the poster to point in the wrong direction. The two unicorns and the little dragon trotted around the building corner and to the far field where they found a surprising amount of ponies pooled in front of a chestnut brown stage with blue curtains. Half cut logs were set out for seating, which had reached well over its capacity by now, and the jar full of bits stationed at the rear end of the crowd had triumphed past its halfway mark. Spike approached and observed the glass container full of money.

Starlight produced two bits and slipped them through the slot whereas Rarity produced four bits, compensating for both herself and the young dragon in tow. For once Spike couldn’t help but feel immature upon the fact that he was unable to pay for his own entry, and frustrated that he was unable to pay for Rarity’s for that matter. He reminded himself to start asking Twilight for some sort of allowance later that night.

“I’m gonna have a look around.” Starlight told her party.

“The show’s gonna start soon.” Spike hollered.

“Not on my watch.” Starlight winked back.

The unicorn walked the edge of the sea of ponies and rounded to the rear end of the chestnut stage, climbing up the stairs passing behind the curtains, to which she spotted that same moonlight blue mare from the poster striking a forced glare into the light-bulb mirror. There the unicorn magician sat staring at her reflection, muttering orders mixed with compliments in her third person monologue. She took a deep, practiced breathe, levitated the glass of water to her lips, and spat at the sight of the second face in the mirror.

“Did your mother teach you to sneak up on ponies like that?” The magician growled.

Starlight was laughing. “Well, the reactions are often priceless.”

“You’re speaking to Ponyville’s most esteemed, most magical showmare, mind you. Trixie will have to get you back for this, one day.” The showmare rested her glass to the desk and worked the clasp on her cape. “The show’s on in five, what do you want?”

“To apologize.”

Trixie turned a wary eye to her friend. “Is this another one of your pranks?”

“We’ll just say an epiphany struck me last night.”

The magician smirked and flipped her mane. “Basking in the presence of pure talent often elicits such conscientiousness.” She boasted.

Starlight subconsciously brushed the pompous mare’s self-praise to the side, a common speech the unicorn had learned to live with at this point. Most other ponies could hardly stand the waves of narcissism, but Starlight had a way of dealing with such ilk, if only to assert her own dominance. After all… “It takes one to know one.” She said.

“Trixie believes you need to work on your apologies.”

“Apologizing often elicits forgiveness.”

“And what would you need to apologize for?” Trixie probed. “Where does this epiphany of yours come into play?”

And Starlight came out with it. “It took a lot of guts to do what you had done at your age. Most ponies would turn back or settle for less, but you threw caution to the wind and I respect you for it, even more than Twilight.” Starlight glanced to her left and right. “Don’t tell her I said that, though.” Trixie’s gaze spelled confusion, but also pride and admiration. Starlight continued. “The matter of my epiphany is…I haven’t really given you the support you deserve, not only as a sorceress myself, but more importantly as a friend. It’s never easy, is it? Those moments when you’re in the presence of so many ponies that look up to you, waiting for you to say something, to do something. What do you do? What do you say? At that point it’s all just mind over matter, relying on your wits and quick decision making to get you through the day, to just find that happy little haven in the deepest, darkest pit of your mind, that light at the end of the tunnel. You feel that sometimes too, don’t you? Right? Trix… ?”

Loud, eruptious snoring came in response. Trixie was leaning over her table, already defining a pool of drool beneath her hooves.

“Stars above, you brood, grow up!” Starlight shouted.

“-And for my next act!” Trixie startled awake, blindingly stumbling forward and slipping in her own pool of drool. “Uh, ta-da?” She groaned.

“Save it for the audience.” Starlight mumbled, trotting her way towards the exit. “You’re on in five?”

“Four…”

“…three…two…one!” Twilight opened her eyes. “Ready or not, here I come.”

When it came to fun and games the Princess was one to abide to the enjoyment with everyone involved, and that meant no cheating, which also meant this particular charade of hide n’ go seek wouldn’t have a shred of magic involved in it. As she started from the front lobby and worked her way through the corridors, ears perked and eyes peeled, Twilight pondered how oddly childish of a request this was for the boy to make. Sure, he was young but not toddler young. It compelled her to review the fact that she was currently on a scavenger hunt for some bipedal creature from another planet in her own home, and she agreed to it as well. I’ve had my fair share of odd circumstances, but I think I need to start drawing the line somewhere. She supposed.

Meanwhile, David was reassured that the “no magic rule” would give him the time he was looking for. Time away from Twilight, and time to do his own research. It felt near impossible to shake a studious, curious mare of her kind, even if one asked politely for privacy, any longer and the boy felt he would have been subject to laboratory tests. Currently, he had it in his mind that while this was a dream, perhaps this “Ponish” really meant nothing at all. Perhaps it was only gibberish, scribbles and symbols his mind was making up. He had heard somewhere before that the brain was most often unable to retain words and letters written out, that when it came to a certain object or subject to call back on it would rely upon images and looks of said object rather than symbols and words. No doubt the English alphabet was engraved into his mind, but he was convinced that when it came to dreams, memories could not be perfectly replicated, and words were the hardest to decipher.

Without hesitation, he scrambled his way through book after book, hiding underneath the same structure he had built in an attempt to shut out this new, colorful world. Fruitless as his efforts might have been, still being quite novice in this “Ponish”, he was determined to find something in this maze of ink and paper. Just a single phrase, a single word, a single character of hope would do, something to trick his eyes back into a language he could understand. Sometimes… He thought to himself. If you stare in the mirror long enough, you’ll find what you’re looking for.

A book laid in the center before him, toppled over and untouched. It looked odd, and felt odd too as he went to pick it up. It was leather bound, a contentious choice for equines, obviously giving to light that it was an uncommon text and possibly not even from here. In fact, he soon found there was no text within as he went to open it, not a single word. The book was oddly left blank, not incomplete, but it was left that way intentionally. Somehow he just knew it was.

The boy remembered the small resort shelf for books in that odd corner of the library, how the other leather bound books were just like this one, and that one vacant spot in the shelf. Slowly, David closed the book to gaze upon the front cover.

Ten feathers connected to the bottom root of a tree reaching for the heavens, to a fiery crown in the sky with the sun shining from behind. This tree, it seemed all too familiar, like something he had read in a book or seen in a movie once. He could not place the image accurately enough, he thought he knew it, but nothing was clicking. Perhaps once again his mind was playing tricks on him, the dream cackling away, or maybe it was trying to help him?

His train of thought faded at the sound of hoofsteps approaching.

A bright, brilliant crackle of gold overtook the stage, followed by a plume of purple smoke and the echoing roar of the audience in awe. Fireworks whirled and sparklers spun, it seemed as though half the coinage the Great and Powerful mare had earned this round would be spent replacing the introductory light show, but the fans loved it all the more, and Trixie knew it. Starlight, Spike and Rarity had taken their respective places and stomped their hooves upon the ground along with the crowd as the promised magician of the hour whisked away the smoke with a swish of her star-spotted cape. She tipped her wizard’s cap and stretched out her hooves to oblige the applause, to which the audience supplied fortuitously.

“Unicorns, Pegasi, ponies of all kinds,” the sparklers fizzed out as she spoke. “It is with great spirit that the Great and Powerful Trixie informs the that a most great and powerful epiphany has beheld yours truly.”

“Oh, get on with it.” Starlight rolled her eyes. “I’ll fall asleep right in the middle of your show, see how you like it.”

“What qualms you two?” Rarity wondered.

“I guess I should’ve known a few words of sentiment doesn’t work on a narcissist.”

“Starlight, darling.” Rarity patted her shoulder. “Sometimes our views don’t see eye to eye with the other, we can only provide what we know and I think that is enough.”

“Not enough for her.” Starlight grumbled.

“I’ll provide everything for you, Rarity.” Spike beamed. “Everything I’ve got.”

Rarity gave the dragon a wavy grin, clearly she was out of Spiky snacks. Soon enough the trio’s attention was drawn back to the mare on the stage.

“That epiphany entails a contestant!” Trixie proclaimed. “Trixie asks of thee, which among you here is in dire, desperate need of…a makeover?”

A collection of pastel limbs reached out of the crowd skyward, some genuinely interested in the mysterious performance that was to take place and for the chance to be a part of it, while others were hoping to avoid a paid trip to the local beauty salon. A snow white hoof was among those ponies. Starlight eyed Rarity tiredly. Trixie’s eyes weaved about the field of hovering hooves and enthusiastic grins. The pimple-faced kid certainly needed a brush or two, and the local drunk had seen better days. In fact, Trixie was certain the drunk had no idea what was happening right now. The showmare knew that while a volunteer was part of the act, they too needed to be unique in one way or another, yet another part of the show that would stun the audience and leave them wanting more. The average joe would do no good, and this crowd was flooded with them. All except for one, of course. Trixie decided she had wasted enough time for suspense.

“Aha! Yes, you there!” She pointed.

Crickets. A lone stallion mouthed a “me?”

“In the back.”

A mare pointed to herself, brow raised.

“The purple one!” Trixie finally shouted.

Starlight acted as though she weren’t paying attention, that she had better things to do, that the sky was so much more interesting at the moment. She was imagining flying a kite, after all.

“Huh? Oh, I think she means you, Star-” Spike’s sentence cut short as the unicorn bucked her rear hoof and sent Spike forward into the corridor the crowd had parted for him to make his way up to the stage. “-light.”

Trixie grumbled begrudgingly and rubbed her hoof over her eyes. Not the dragon, anypony but the dragon. But alas the little lizard was already bumbling his way down the isle, glancing to and fro at the bewildered equines as he passed by. He begun climbing the steps now and there were no take backs, much to the magician’s disappointment, but the show must go on.

“A courageous act from our little dragon friend, everypony give a big round of applause for Spot!”

“Spike.” The dragon corrected.

“Whatever, kid, just get up here.”

A few ponies began tapping their hooves on the ground, and soon a good deal of the crowd joined in with equal yet estranged enthusiasm. “Okay, that’s enough applause.” Trixie sufficed, and she cleared her throat. “Take a good, long look at our cold-blooded companion, let not the pierce of his eyes nor the stunt of his growth cause you to underestimate him. Within seconds, this scaled shorty shall be transformed into a towering, handsome hunk of glimmering scales and beauty!”

“Handsome?” Spike chirped.

“Hunk?” Rarity followed.

Spike’s fangs showed in his grin, his green eyes bright and hopeful. Chances such as these, he understood, only came once in a lifetime. There would be no regrets, no more being treated like a child, not from Twilight, nor Rarity, not anypony. All he could imagine now was a persona of himself clad in mirth, chivalry and silver-plate armor, a claw extended to the one pony he’s had his eye on for years now. Quickly, he turned to Trixie.

“Make sure to give me a mustache.” He requested.

“Yes yes, you’ll get your refund by the end of the show.” Trixie muttered. “Now hold still.”

Spike could only contain so much of his excitement, his fists clenched and his little feet jumping up and down. Trixie lit her horn, summoning a field around the dragon as he was lifted into the air by a blanket of translucent pink. He eyed the ponies below, almost already feeling just as tall as he imagined he would be in the soon to come future. The audience was washed over with silence as Spike’s form was overtaken by a gleaming white flash of white, causing the ponies to adore in anticipation. Starlight, however, finally took a look at her friend up on the stage to notice that she looked as if she were struggling with the spell.

Twilight was once again tempted to intervene with her magic. She almost felt as though she were wasting her time, even if Sunday was meant to be her “off day.” She could be getting ahead, filing a hundred more reports than she usually does at the crack of dawn on Mondays, or reorganizing her entire library in alphabetical order by the author’s first name instead of the author’s last name. The library seemed to be the most productive chamber in the castle for her, the library...why of course! The library! Why hadn’t she thought of searching there? Twilight merrily trotted her way back to the twin doors and threw them open to the scent and sight of books as far as the eye could see. The tiny book cove, the book fort, was her prime destination. She just knew he had to be in there, where else? As she made a beeline for the fort, the sound of crackling followed by shuffling filled her ears, and then the groaning. Who’s groaning?

“Spike?” Twilight popped her head inside. “What’re you doing in here?”

“I don’t know...” Spike mewled, then beamed. “Hey, how do I look?”

“Uh, like Spike?”

“You mean like Spike, don’t’cha?” He winked and chuckled. “Say, does my voice sound deeper to you?”

“I don’t know what this is about, but I take it you couldn’t find Starlight?”

“No, I found her, she’s right over-” Spike froze. “Wait a second…what am I doing here?”

Spike had blinked away, and a new figure blinked in. The audience blinked, Starlight blinked, Trixie blinked, and a new problem was upon them all. It was the definition of stage-fright, only in the reverse order.

“Dammit!” He growled. “I thought we agreed, no magic.” The boy spun around and froze upon the presence of a thousand eyes. Big, round, the size of saucers, their colors ranging all across the spectrum and not a single one of them blinked. Not a single one of the ponies knew what to say nor what to do, simply staring in wonder if this was the biggest screw-up since the Swarm of the Century or if this was part of the act. Trixie was busy catching her breathe with her cap over her eyes, and she began to giggle hysterically.

“Have I done it? Have I pulled it off?” She felt sure. “Behold, ponies of Ponyville, for I give you-” Trixie stared at the abomination before her and let loose an ear splintering screech. Now the ponies were certain this was not part of the act. In an instant the crowd disassembled like ants pouring out of a hill. Children were crying, mothers were screaming and the stallions braced against the charge of hooves. The young colts broke open the coin jar at the rear of the crowd, scooping as much bits into their hooves and mouths as they could, and the rest of the crowd followed suit on account of the “trauma” they had just experienced. Rarity had fainted at the beginning of it all.

In the midst of it all still standing up on the stage, frozen in confusion and terror, David could do nothing but watch as Starlight abandoned her white unicorn friend’s unconscious side and marched up the stairs to her other unicorn friend.

“Trixie.” Starlight snarled. “What. Did. You. Do?”

“Okay, Starlight, you’ve made your point.” Trixie spoke rapidly. “You win, I forgive you.”

“Stop.”

“I still don’t know what you were apologizing for, but I forgive you!”

“Stop! Look at me.” Starlight held her face between her hooves. “Tell me exactly what happened, what you did, what you felt.”

“I-I don’t know, there was this surge and then poof!”

“Yes, just like all your other shows.”

“Just like them, only...” Trixie peeked around Starlight, staring at the boy. “Oh, by the gates of Tartarus, what is that thing?” She fell to her haunches and curled into a blubbering little ball, shaking in fear of the dismantled state of her show and what it may do to her reputation in the long run, she could not bear to look at the empty, bit jar on the far side of the field where Rarity lay.

Starlight comprehended the poor magician’s miserable attempt to asses the situation and turned to the boy. He was still standing there, staring where the crowd once was and mumbling something to himself.

“Hey, kid?” Starlight started. “You okay?”

“I think I’m gonna be-”

David doubled over, clutched his gut and spewed a fountain of liquid beige over the front end of the stage. The unicorn could only think to flinch away, then forward again to rest her hoof to his back and rub with quiet reassurance. Reassurance of what? She didn’t know anymore, not at this point. It would be a good fifteen minutes before the esteemed ambassador was to arrive, she would have to find a way to clean up the mess and dispel the rumors. They weren’t even rumors anymore, ponies would begin spilling straight facts, more than half the town had seen what had happened. Starlight began to think that perhaps she should have stayed in the office with the Mayor, she should have accepted the offer right then and there, only then would the ponies have listened. It was all wrong, her best friend a quivering ball of tears, the seamstress left unconscious in the middle of the road, and this bewildered, frightened monkey man from another planet hissing profanities as he spat out the last of the stomach fluids caught in his throat. The stench wasn’t helping anything.

“Trixie, get up.” Starlight called.

“The Princess is going to kill me.” Trixie trembled.

“You haven’t done anything to upset her, not yet at least.”

“Not until she finds out I’ve mutated her little dragon into this…thing!”

“This isn’t Spike.”

“Excellent observation skills, Starlight. Did you want to tell me fish swim and birds fly, too?”

“I’m willing to bet where ever our friend here was before he got here, that’s where we’ll find Spike.” Starlight explained. “But let’s not worry about that right now. We are mere minutes away from introducing some snob-snout son of a mule to our humble little village full of flowers, happiness and rainbows. We need to not make this place look like an alien just jumped in and scared the piss out of everypony. What do you say? Are you with me?”

“Your ‘friend’ is gone, what more do you want?”

“What’re you talking about, he’s right-” Starlight looked back, and the boy most certainly wasn’t where she anticipated him to be, only the small pool of vomit left in his wake. Where did he go? Where did he go? Starlight was certain now that the Princess was going to kill her.

“And then what happened?”

“Then I came here, to tell you all of this.” Starlight answered to the Mayor.

The old mare removed her glasses, pinched the bridge of her muzzle with both her hooves as to restrain herself from reaching for the rye drawer. She swatted at the papers lying upon her desk and gazed back out at the window where preparations for the ambassador’s arrival were at their peak, and all of it may very well go to waste thanks to one, particular magician.

“That dunce-capped phony illusionist.” The Mayor grumbled. “What in Tartarus was she thinking? Oh, the nerve of unicorns and their blasted magic, I simply can’t stand it.”

Starlight steeled herself as the insult waved over her, the frustrated earth mare showing no signs of remorse as her irritation only seemed to increase. She could only think about the talk they had earlier, the business of the Equerry’s position and the desire for somepony to fill that role, somepony competent. Alas, the fact that the Mayor knew she and Trixie were friends may have lessened her standing in the eyes of this aging delegate, and so the unicorn began to wonder why she had even informed her of the dilemma of the missing “monkey man” in the first place. Obviously it was a pick of the poison, the best choice against all the odds, a sacrificial pawn. Taking this teeny, tiny problem up with Princess Twilight would have most certainly proffered a domino effect of causes leading to Starlight never reaching that Equerry position, at least not for as long as she lived here in Ponyville. It seemed then that the Mayor was finishing the last of her quieted profanities and grumbles.

“Alright, elaborate.” The Mayor demanded.

“Ma’am?”

“This thing, what does it look like?”

“Well, he’s tall. He has brown, moppy hair-”

“Excuse me, he?” The Mayor gawked. “What is it that you’re not telling me?”

Starlight gulped. “And there’s the slightest, slimmest possibility he’s an alien from an entirely different planet.”

The Mayor’s eye twitched.

“But, he’s friendly. Submissive, for lack of a better term.”

“Submissive, you say?” The earth mare prodded her chin. “Then whatever the case, I believe you’ve already given us sufficient details for two of Equestria’s best to take care of this, for lack of a better term, invasion.” The Mayor sat up in her chair, grabbed a hold of the gavel sitting off to the corner of her desk and slammed it against the wood. “Sam! Ralph!”

Somehow Starlight gained the intuition to look directly above her, to which she stared back at yellow, gleaming eyes hiding within the shadows of the rafters. A pair of leather black wings sprawled out from the center of the darkness, and a shadowy figure made its decent to the floor. The piercing, yellow eyes belonged to a strong, swift stallion with pointed ears, barred fangs, and a gray coat to match his dimmed appearance. His leather black wings folded neatly to his sides as he looked around the room with light pouring in, squinting harshly to the daylight. He regarded Starlight for a moment, then turned back to the Mayor.

“Ralph, where is your colleague?” She asked.

“Sam is-” There was a clatter from above, and a dangling rope coiling next to Ralph was followed by a mass of snow white slamming against the floor. Ralph regarded his friend for a moment. “-innovative, this morning.”

“Neigh, it is well past noon.” Mayor Mare informed.

“You must forgive my fellow bat friend, he is one to mix the times.” Sam stood promptly, his metallic voice ringing against the walls of the metal bucket. “From time to time.”

“Why is there a bucket on your head, son?”

“To protect you and the fair unicorn over there, my good Mayor.”

“From?”

“His own blood.” Ralph explained. “Unfortunately, it does not flow the same as mine, as he has come to learn.”

“My goodness, are you alright?” Starlight reached out with a hoof.

“Miss.” Sam turned to her and proceeded to yank the bucket from his skull, blood pooling around his face and neck. “A guard’s duty is for the cause.”

The unicorn recoiled to the sight of the white, earth stallion with blood seeping from his eyes and nostrils. Starlight seemed to have seen enough bodily fluids for one day. The attention of the room was brought back to the Mayor’s desk as she slammed the gavel on the wood once more.

“Never mind this nonsense!” She barked. “Ralph, relay the current situation.”

“A tall, mop-headed beast has invaded the heart of Ponyville. It would seem we are tasked to capture the creature before the arrival of the ambassador.” Ralph replied with ease.

“Investing in the night guard branch has paid off, I see.” Though her tone remained stoic, the Mayor was quite pleased with the agreement for the royal guards that had gone down only a few months ago. Ponyville was a town of humbleness as it was wonders, a jack of all trades it seemed, resulting in some of the most ridiculous situations that not even the townsfolk themselves believed. As a result, Princess Twilight had finally passed the requirement of a minimum of two royal units to be dispatched to Ponyville for patrol duties, with the inclusion of essential tasks. The Mayor pounced on the opportunity the moment it was mentioned in the documents hoofed over to her. Needless to say what followed was one of the quickest renovations of Ponyville’s local training dojo, which wasn’t even in use any longer, into the barracks for the only two guards in the entire town. “Well? You have your task, get to it!” The Mayor barked again.

“Consider it complete.” Ralph saluted. Sam attempted to follow suit, alas the lack of blood had him wobbling on his hooves.

“And no more blood spill!” She called. “Stick a cloth up your snout, would you?”

Starlight eyed the two stallions making their exit from the office and out to search for the creature, David. She knew the name, the boy behind it, they did not. What then did they plan to do to a creature they called nameless as soon as they got their hooves on him? Was it really in her best effort to hoof this entire situation over to the officials? Starlight knew that didn’t always mean professional. In fact, none of this seemed all that professional, impelling her to consider the weight of her decision making especially in context of the long run. “Two of Equestria’s best...?” She recalled. If David were smart, Starlight supposed, he wouldn’t run. Not unless he wanted things to end up like last time. One guard had wings, the other was the equivalent of a hoofball player, how hard could it be for them to catch one guy?

“Get your bloody hooves offa’ me, you geldie! I have my rights!”

“Not so fast, mop top.” Sam sneered. “You’re under arrest.”

“What for?”

“Impersonation.”

“Of who for crying out loud? I’m just me!” The pegasus cried. “Are my looks really that criminal?”

“Not by those standards.”

The pegasus looked hurt. “Excuse me, officer, but I’ll grant you the honor to know that this mane o’ mine was crafted by the Engraver himself, not even my cutie mark was given this much consideration. And the chiseled jaw? Oh, don’t even get me started on this masters in geometry.”

Ralph was busy stationed at a booth featuring various hats, to which the mare behind the vendor was having the hardest time telling the bat pony that all of the hats would help keep the sun out of his eyes, even though he insisted on taking his time to try every single one. It seemed that Ralph was one to take his time in doing his research and paying close attention to every detail, and though that fact was indeed true, the reality of this situation was his own weakness. Simply, he was just trying to be polite to the mare. Finally he made his purchase, giving the pony three more bits over the actual price, to which she had no qualms and simply wanted to be done with his presence. Ralph walked over to his friend and the supposed suspect with a large, straw woven sun hat shoved onto the top of his helmet, the blue spike piercing tearing through the top.

“Even with my strained sight I can tell this is not the creature we’re looking for.” Ralph mentioned.

“But he’s tall.” Sam looked him up and down.

“He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Finally, an officer without a brain tumor!” The pegasus beamed to Ralph. “Mind untangling your friend here offa’ me?”

“No, his brute strength proves useful at the moment.” The bat guard lifted his wing and snagged a small notebook from his side pocket, flipping it open as he eyed the pegasus just below the brim of his hat. “Name.” He demanded.

“Let’s just relax-”

“Name.”

The pegasus groaned. “Zephyr.”

“Are you a resident of Ponyville?”

“I’m a pony of Equestria, thank you very much.” Zephyr justified.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Ralph jotted. “Tell me, you wouldn’t happen to have noticed anything strange lurking about recently, have you?”

“Uh, like a couple o’ brutish guards harassing a perfectly innocent citizen of the land?”

“Perhaps you’d like to attempt and prove your innocence on account of your roof-hopping?”

“Pfft, roof-hopping? What is that, you make that up or something?”

“No, the three witnesses prior to our meeting did.” Ralph flipped open his notebook for Zephyr to read, the evidence clear as day. The pegasus wore a disgruntled frown as the bat pony continued. “Now, answer the question more thoughtfully this time.”

“Look, how am I supposed to know which roofs I can and can’t land on? These stinkin’ hay roofs all look the same.”

“I don’t care about the roof-hopping, just tell us about the creature. The tall one.”

“You mean that tall one?” Zephyr pointed ahead. “The one scrounging around the barrels over there?”

“Nice try, rookie.” Sam laughed. “I’m not falling for the ‘look behind you!’ gag.”

“It’s in front of you.”

Ralph squinted and strained his sights behind him to locate a tall, lanky figure with a brown mop top digging one of its limbs into an open barrel. The description fit too perfectly, even with his limited vision in the harsh light of day. “Well I’ll be a rat with wings.” He breathed.

“Ralph, did you just fall for it?” Sam asked.

“Forget that bum, we’ve got the real deal!”

The earth stallion saw what his friend meant as soon as he unfurled his leather black wings and took off towards the figure in the distance. He unhoofed and knocked over the poor pegasus simply minding his own day as he hurled himself forward and dug his hooves into the dirt, charging madly at the bipedal creature ahead with wide, bewildered eyes. The boy looked up from his barrel to be greeted by a devilish figure with black wings eclipsing the sun behind it, descended upon him much like a bat out of hell, and David gave the most reasonable shriek a human being would give should they ever believe a demon was chasing after them. The guards took the sudden wail from the creature as a warning sign, and so Ralph signaled to his friend to flank left into the alley way. As anticipated, the boy took the assumed easiest route of escape, but was soon after caught in their trap. Sam stood at one end of the alley and Ralph hovered at the other. It would have been an easy catch had Sam not been only three-foot-six.

“I’ve hurdled toddlers taller than you!” David quoted as he soared above the guard like a majestic, flying eagle. It would have been an easy escape had David not been six-foot straight. A perfect mold of his forehead became the dent in the wooden sign hanging above, and the boy went down as quickly as he had ascended, groaning and holding a palm to his bruised skull.

Sam spun around and slammed all of his weight on top of the creature, reaching around for his limbs and attempting to strangle him. “I’ve fought fillies more fierce than you!” He snarled.

The shading of the alley way did well for Ralph, and he proceeded to remove his sunhat as he approached to help his friend subdue the monster. Alas, as soon as they were upon the boy, all three within the tussle looked up to find a small witness standing at the alley’s exit. It was a young colt, a milk white, scrawny pegasus with bucked teeth and a brown mane. A flash camera with a buckle dangled from his neck. He blinked once, David and the two guards blinked back, and in an instant the small pony lifted the camera in front of his face and took the shot. An expanse of blinding white encapsulated the royal guards, causing them to recoil and rub their hooves into their sockets, whereas Ralph was worse off than his friend.

“Sam, keep it under control.” Ralph started. “I won’t be seeing for a while.”

“You best keep your eyes closed then.” Sam replied hesitantly.

“Why? What is it?”

Sam rubbed his eyes again and again to be sure he wasn’t imagining things. Their culprit was gone, nowhere to be seen.

The barrels around here may have been small, but if there was one other thing the boy found himself to be good at, squeezing into cramped nooks seemed to be a specialty of his. Currently he was holed up in one barrel among many in the fetal position, just as he did when he secluded himself within his book fort, just as scared and fearful of the world outside, just as confused as though his mind were racing at a million miles a minute. He sat inside encapsulated by mild nuances of thought until he heard voices and felt movement beyond the staves of the barrel. Whomever was outside seemed to struggle lifting his barrel up to the platform, but they managed all the while and were soon trotting off to their destination with a wagon in tow, the clunky sounds of cart wheels rolling outside putting the boy on the fence between ill and ease.

Slamming his head against the wooden sign didn’t wake him up, and neither did that flash bang, or whatever that might have been. No, nothing was working, nothing seemed correct. When would this dream end? For how much longer, he guessed, could he remain in this state before he lost his mind altogether? It seemed at this point that it was a battle for sanity, if only he had something to spill all of this congested thought onto, something to tell about the sounds and write about the sights.

The book, the one he picked up at the library, with the strange tree figure. He made a mental note, amongst his other swarming thoughts, that if he somehow made it back to the castle alive then he’d begin writing in this book, begin drawing too. Yes, drawing, just the thought of it was enough to allow him to look on the brighter side of things. In that moment he scanned the staves and found a small hole that which he could look through. He placed an eye at the small opening just as the cart was bumbling to a shaky halt, the pony ahead whom was pulling gave a huffed, tired sigh as they seemed to unhinge themselves from their ring and trot ahead to other business.

David squinted ahead and located a tall, rotundus building with colorful flags and waving banners. Authentically crafted lanterns were strung across the plaza area, and vendors full of food and knick-knacks lined the outer walls of the surrounding buildings. The vicinity appeared oddly scarce of ponies, only a few dotted here and there whom were constantly scanning their surroundings and checking over clipboards and papers as though they were preparing for something special. David supposed for a moment that it probably gave some explanation as to why those ponies outside of the castle were in the middle of some sort of construction.

At last there was a marble pink statue of a pony resting within the center of a fountain display, and above that were a bundle of winged ponies, pegasi, swarming around and pushing upon the fluffy clouds hovering over the plaza square. If there were a few things he had deduced from his time in Ponyville so far, it was that while unicorns appeared the most curious, pegasi may have been the meanest. He made another mental note to stay clear of them as much as possible.

“Put your back into it, crew!” The captain shouted. “I want clear skies.”

“Clear Skies, reporting for duty.” A pegasus hovered before the captain, saluting.

“Got a few loose feathers, cadet? I said I want these skies open.”

“Yo, Open Skies, here.” Another pegasus honed in. “What’cha need, ma’am?”

“For the two of you to quit playin’ goose chase and get to it!”

“Gee, cap, you seem awfully upset.” Open Skies told her.

“Yeah, it’s just some super important, high profile, big-wig ambassador rolling into town.” Clear Skies followed up. “What’s the big deal?”

The captain kept her mouth shut and shook her head silently. Yelling any further at these two air heads wouldn’t be doing the company any favors, and the last thing she needed was a stern talking to for rustling the feathers on some poor, innocent, precious employee. The overall relaxed and laid back hivemind state of Ponyville’s Weather Patrol team had the whole operation running like a crank-up toy. It only worked for so long until you had to go back and spin the lever all over again. The only benefit the captain saw from this whole ordeal was that she was getting more exercise than usual, given that she was going to have to wait a good month or two before her home gym was finally moved from Cloudsdale and down here to Ponyville. Of all the things she would leave at home, there were three she couldn’t live without. Caramel tea, her home gym, and the compass. She had no idea who made it, where it came from, all she knew was that this compass that could fit in the frog of her hoof had once belonged to her father.

“It belongs to you now, Sunny.” Her mother told her once. That’s what she said when she gave it to her, when she was only nine, and the compass she was staring at fifteen years ago was the same compass lying in her hoof now.

“Head’s up!”

It would then be the same compass interesting enough to drag the captain’s attention away from the current situation, from the large, gray, hefty tuft of cloud slamming straight into her face and sending her plummeting towards the ground in a daze of desperate, broken wing flaps and flailing hooves. She didn’t feel in any particular danger at the moment, but for whatever reason part of her life was meant to flash before her eyes in that moment, almost as if she were on the brink of fatality. If anything, she would make it out of this with a few bruises and a broken rib, nothing severe. Perhaps after being knocked out cold she would wake up from this terrible dream that had her asking the same questions ever since her arrival. Why me? Why now? How did it all come to this? And so the life flashing memories played before her anyways.

Today is the day. Sunshower thought to herself. It’s the last week before intermission. If not today at least, then I’m sure to get that promotion by the end of the week.

“Miss Sunshower.” A stallion holding a clipboard turned around to address her. “The director would like to see you in his office.”

Sunshower withheld her squeal as she enthusiastically followed the stallion up a few flights of stairs and finally to a set of double doors. Entering the room, Sunshower took a seat and anticipated for the words she had been waiting to hear all morning.

“Miss Sunshower,” the director turned around in his chair and held out his hoof. “Good to see you.”

“Likewise.” She smiled, accepting the hoof shake.

“I suppose I’ll just cut to the chase here. I’ve gained word that a former employee and current Wonderbolt, Thunderlane, put you on the top of the recommendation list.”

“That would seem so.” She continued to smile.

“For weather patrol.”

“That would-” Then, she frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“In Ponyville.”

“…”

“Miss Sunshower.” The chief director turned around in his chair. “How might I help you today?”

“By telling me why I am being forcibly relocated to Equestria’s biggest agricultural estate to do-” She reviewed her copy of the transfer forms. “-weather patrol?”

“Let me put it to you this way.” He leaned forward. “Have you ever heard of the term ‘natural selection?’”

“I’m afraid you’ve already lost me, chief.”

“Well you see, natural selection is-”

“I am well aware of the term natural selection and its meaning, I just don’t understand how it ties in to our dilemma.” Sunshower pressed her hooves to her chest dramatically. “If anything, my records ought’a be evidence enough that I-”

“Excel?” He finished. “Well yes, Miss Sunshower. You see that’s just it.”

Sunshower was frozen in her seat as she stared at the stallion, blinking once or twice. “You mean to say that I’m…?”

“The best production floor team member we’ve had in years.” The head chief director turned around in his chair. “That’s her, Miss Sunshower, good to see you.” He chuckled as the pipe in his mouth bounced. “Oh, but not for too much longer now, mm?”

“Oh no.” Sunshower slumped. “Head chief, you’re in on this too?”

“Well, if it weren’t for that captain’s position down in Ponyville, then no, I wouldn’t be in on this.”

“Oh, well thank the stars-”

“But thank the stars it was open because then I’d be sending you down to the cutting room floor to teach all the new recruits basic training.” The head chief laughed heartily as he turned to the chief. “Ey, remember ol’ Windy?”

“Yes, head chief, he’s still down there y’know?”

“Poor colt’s out of our hooves now.” He laughed again, sitting forward. “And soon enough, so will you Miss Sunshower.”

“Chief, please, you can’t do this to me.” Sunshower pleaded.

“Well, yes, I can.” He nodded. “Only, I’m not the one who’s doing this to you.”

“What?” Sunshower paused.

“I said I was in on it, not that I was doing it.”

“Then, who?”

“I’m sorry, but no, it can’t be undone.” Thunderlane turned around in his stool.

“Why?” Sunshower seethed.

“The paper work’s already been filled out.”

“Without. My. Consent?!”

“We were in a rush, alright? I had to pick a successor, and you said you’d be fine with it.”

“I did?” Sunshower cocked her head.

Thunderlane turned around at his cubicle three weeks ago.

“Hey, Sunshower, mind if I put you on the list for Ponyville transfers?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll get to it in a minute.” A rather busy Sunshower replied.

“Cool, thanks Sunny.”

“Damn, I did.” Sunshower shook her head. “Still, what makes you think I’d be up to the task?” She questioned. “Let alone be willing to take it?”

“You always told me you were looking to step up your game.”

“And this was your idea of stepping it up?” Sunshower led her hoof towards the ground below, a far view from their seat in a cafe located in Cloudsdale. She pointed down at the village in the valley, Ponyville. “Look at that, Thunderlane, look! That’s stepping it down, not up.”

“I chose and reserved this position for you, not anypony else. Y’wanna know why?” Thunderlane stared at her whilst she continued to look at the ground with a scowl upon her face. “Because I trust you. I’ve been down there before, patrolling the weather with all the other patrol ponies, and after all that experience there’s no pony I can trust to take up that position but you.”

“Weather patrol isn’t even my thing.” She scoffed. “I have a future to look forward to. Here, in Cloudsdale.”

“Y’know, your mother told me once that your father was just like you.” Thunderlane began. “Until one day, something changed, and he soon found he wouldn’t be spending the rest of his life in Cloudsdale just like he planned.”

She breathed hard through her nostrils, her eyes shut tight “Are you really bringing up my father right now? Are you really that desperate to convince me?”

“All I’m saying is if your father could do it, then so can you.”

Sunshower took a long look past the collection of clouds and over the edge of Cloudsdale, looking at the earth several feet below at a collection of tiny buildings bundled together. She blinked and breathed again. “And if I don’t like it?”

“You can come right back. I’ve talked it over with the chief.” Thunderlane promised. “But you have to actually try it. A full month at the very least. Ponyville needs their captain for the rest of the season.”

“Alright.” Sunshower finally agreed. “I’ll do it. But mark my words, buster, you’ll be sorry!”

“Again, so sorry the Mayor couldn’t be here to oversee your arrival.” The Mayor, or rather her assistant turned around in his chair.

“It’s not like I was expecting a party or anything.” Sunshower sighed, and at this point her mind decided to shut off most of what she was interpreting.

“I can tell ya’ one thing, something like that is difficult for newcomers to avoid.” He chuckled.

“Mhm.” She nodded blankly.

“Really though, we are glad you could make it here on such short notice, our weather patrol team is in desperate need of-”

“Mhm.” She nodded blankly.

“You’ll need to come in eight o’clock sharp tomorrow morning to assess-”

“Mhm.” She nodded blankly, again and again and again.

“Oh, and one more thing, Miss Sunshower…”

She recalled giving one last blank stare and bored nod to his last comment, but as she turned around in her tuft of cloud, the words she thought she had forgotten seemed to work their way back into her mind as the mass of cloudy gray sped towards her like a bullet.

“…this is Ponyville, anything can happen.”

Ponyville’s newest Weather Patrol captain went tumbling through the air in a mass of flailing hooves and desperate wing flaps. She spun towards the ground, twirled sideways, and slammed against the statue centered in the fountain, slumping downwards with a groan as her upper half became submerged and her lower half laid on the lip of the fountain. Moments later she forced herself upwards and rubbed her skull with hisses and curses, and then the stone above her began to crack. She glanced upwards at the statue, its face growing closer and its base crumbling away, Sunshower realized what had happened and knew what she had to do next. She flipped up onto the rim of the fountain, held her hooves skyward and caught the statue from falling off of its pedestal, lest it render into dust and rubble, lest the Mayor find out that Ponyville’s newest captain decided a game of rugby with the fountain statue was the best course of action for their current anticipation. Already it was all too much for Sunshower, the impact had weakened her senses and the statue was much more heavier than she could have imagined, she felt as if she would crumble any second now.

The next second in, she felt the weight of the statue become lighter and lighter as though it were being lifted from her grasp, and that’s because it was in fact being lifted back up and onto the pedestal. She looked up to find her salvation had come in the form of long, pink limbs pushing Caerus back where she belonged. Lifting the marble back in to place appeared effortless for the creature, but even so after he was assured it would move no longer he wiped the sweat from his brow and looked down at the pegasus in the fountain. David gave Sunshower a reassured nod and smile. The captain was dumbfounded.

“FOR THE CAUSE!” Sam charged in.

Ralph caught up to his friend at the very moment the boy was tackled into the fountain, Sunshower still too dumbfounded to do anything or say anything.

“The arms, Sam! Grab the arms!”

“Which ones are the arms?” Sam broke the surface and looked around frantically, but his helmet was on backwards. “By the sun, he’s blinded me!”

The remainder of the minute carried on with the boy wrestling his two detainees in the watery ring until his energy was beginning to give and ponies from all directions were gathering around to see what was the matter. The crowd was at least half the size of Trixie’s at her great and powerful show, so much so that the Mayor herself clamored down and out of Town Hall, pushing citizens aside to weasel her way to the front. “Step aside! Out of my way!” She gasped. “Goodness gracious, can somepony tell me what is going on here?”

“Fear not, good citizens!” Sam triumphed his way over the fountain’s rim, pushing David as Ralph ushered from behind. “The beast has been bested!”

The gawking crowd took a moment to marvel at the sight before them, and in that spell of silence and concerned whispers skipping around the crowd a very audible, very noticeable crack formed at the base of the statue. There was a collected gasp, a pause, and Caerus crumbled forward and splashed into the water below. A heap of marble pink ruin, once a monument to fleeting opportunities and fortune, laid broken in the pool below.

“That statue,” Mayor Mare seethed. “Was over a hundred years old! It had been here since the beginnings of Ponyville.” She looked around fervently. “Who is responsible for this? Front and center, I want names!” Ponies traded looks left and right, most still focused on the boy in the shanty restraints rendered by the guards while others could only avert their eyes. The Mayor marched up to Sunshower with a look of ire. “Well, captain?” The old mare snorted. “Answer me!”

So this was it, end of the line. One little mistake would domino into a series of accusations and lawsuits, ultimately ending her line of career paths, bringing about the end of her dreams. If only she had gotten a wink or two more of sleep, if only she had listened, if only. Lying would do her no good, she had learned that by now, and so the captain puffed her chest and opened her mouth.

“It was me.”

The voice, it was not hers, but the boy’s! She twirled around, astonished it had the ability to speak, astonished that it had just…stood up for her?

“That’s right, you want a culprit? You’re looking at him!” David declared.

“It can talk?” One pony gasped.

“It can evaluate the gravity of a situation despite the absence of key details?” Another gawked.

Concerned glances buzzed around.

“What?” The pony shrugged.

“It destroyed one of Ponyville’s most prized possessions!” The crowd roared with belligerence, hooves smashing against the earth as airborne tomatoes hurled their way to the center of attention. David received a ketchup splatter on his arm and another to his leg. Ralph shielded himself with his wings and Sam turned his helmet backwards.

“Stop! Stop wasting food!” The Mayor howled.

Twilight’s words echoed back into David’s mind as he stood in the midst of the terror and commotion. This was only but a taste of what these ponyfolk were capable of, and he didn’t need any sort of example to know that. It was that instinctual fear deep within that told him everything, that sometimes the most colorful parts of nature were also the most dangerous.

In that instant, a rope swung over his torso and tightened him together like a constrictor, the lead snaking its way back up to where the statue once stood. The food wasting ceased and the crowd fell back into silence as they all trained their eyes upward, a lone mare with a lasso in her tightened jaw. Applejack leapt high above the boy and landed in front of him, tugging on her rope and bringing the human down from the fountain’s rim wherein gravity forced his jaw to the earth. The farm mare snarled, spat the rope from her mouth and turned to the Mayor.

“We’ll run this chimp back to the forest faster than you can blink, Miss Mayor.” Applejack nodded. “Just give us the word.”

“Stop!” A cry wormed through the crowd.

“Apple Bloom?” Applejack scooped her sister up. “Lan’sakes, girl, what’re you thinking?”

“He’s just a harmless, hairless monkey. You can’t do this to him.”

“The kid’s right!” A unicorn stepped forward. “He deserves a trial!”

“What in tarnation?” Applejack glared. “Who in their right mind allows a monkey to go to court?”

“That’s no monkey, it’s a hell-spawn!” One colt cried. “That Great and Powerful witch done it, I saw it with my own two eyes.”

“Enough! Disband, all of you.” The Mayor ordered. “We are moments away from our visitor’s arrival and I will not have this monkey business be the first thing to lay eyes upon.”

From this a familiar lilac unicorn bustled her way through the crowd and emerged in the center. Both David and the Mayor looked to her in unison. “You!” They projected. They shared glances, and the Mayor returned to the unicorn. “Where have you been? I expect you to take responsibility for this circus charade.”

“It’s too late now.” Starlight informed. “The citizens demand judgment, otherwise we’ll never get them out of the streets.”

“Hey, you crazy unicorn!” David hollered.

Starlight appeared offended, an exasperated expression in the boy’s direction.

“Why don’t you warn me next time before you beam me up, otherwise I’ll puke up a storm.”

The unicorn took a hoof back and hovered the other in recoil. The boy’s intensified stare faded with his concerns to the crowd as Starlight was left to her momentary thought. How did he know? She wondered.

“This creature, what does he mean to you?” Mayor Mare asked Starlight. “I want a straight answer.”

Starlight knew in that moment that the weight of her answer would determine the fate of this kid. She knew by now the Mayor was not one to incite action based off of faceless accusations, even in light of the most bizarre and profound of situations. It was no wonder that Ponyville’s mayor could hold the most professional trials any attendee were to ever witness, even if it were for a monkey. Starlight gazed into David’s eyes, saw that same, confused, lost child in them, and returned to the Mayor.

“He is essential to my endeavor as a student.” Starlight decided.

Mayor Mare sized the boy up and then glanced back to the unicorn with a firm nod. She puffed her chest and confronted her citizens. “You want judgment? Then so be it! By the power invested in I, Mayor Ivory Scroll Mare, I declare the beast be indebted to us for the worth of our prized statue, whether that repayment be through manual labor or coinage. I now ask of you, no, I am begging you all to please act like normal, civilized ponies for the next twenty minutes. Is that so much to ask?”

All in all, mild disappointment and disjointed negativity swam about the crowd as the bunches of ponies divided this way and that. At least it was enough to diminish their motivation little by little until they seemed to decide it was time to leave. There was a moment of silence among the shuffling of hooves and whipping of tails before the Mayor spoke again. “And for Celestia’s sake, somepony scoop poor Caerus out of the fountain!”