The next day, Metal Tested sighed as he crossed another listing off his newspaper, tucking the now overly-marked page back into his saddlebag. Ponyville was living up to its reputation as the friendliest town in Equestria, but finding a place to live was still proving to be a challenge. It wasn’t just a matter of friendliness; Metal had been around enough to know that welcoming smiles didn’t necessarily make for good long-term relationships, especially if they were living in close quarters. He needed the right kind of landlord, somepony willing to give him a chance without looking too closely.

The distant chime of a public clock tower broke into his thoughts, drawing his gaze upward. Ten o’clock. Too early for lunch, but he already felt drained. A new round of knocking on doors, facing polite but guarded expressions, and answering well-meaning questions sounded exhausting. Rarity had told him while they worked on his price list the previous evening that she would be splitting her day today, teaching classes at the School of Friendship in the morning and opening the Carousel Boutique at one o’clock, after lunch. Right now, that left him at loose ends for three hours.

Metal exhaled and glanced down at his saddlebag as he wandered through the Ponyville marketplace, the newspaper inside crumpled from repeated handling. He had time to kill before the next round of rejections. His mind drifted—to the night before, to the Carousel Boutique, to the unicorn who had thrown him a lifeline. Rarity…

Just the thought of her was enough to bring a slight warmth to Metal’s cheeks. He couldn’t help but feel like a stuttering schoolcolt around her sometimes, especially when she caught him off guard with that elegant laugh or a dazzling smile.Yesterday, there had been a moment—an incidental twitch of her tail, graceful even in its spontaneity, that had flustered him more than he cared to admit. The accidental glimpse it afforded left him scrambling to maintain his composure, even if she didn’t seem to notice and her unshakeable poise helped smooth out his own awkwardness.

But it was the way she spoke about his craft that left a deeper mark. She didn’t just see his work as products to sell—she saw the artistry behind it, the craftsponyship that made it unique. That was what quietly stunned him—the way she made him feel like his creations mattered. She made him feel, for the first time in too long, that his work might have worth outside his own mind. The way she considered his pieces, the same way she considered her own designs, was…well, it was inspiring. And humbling.

Every satisfied review he’d read about her boutiques said the same thing: Rarity made her customers feel like they mattered, like they were more than the bits they spent. She had a gift for seeing ponies as individuals; now, she was turning that same perceptiveness on him. It made him feel seen in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying. Like Sew Sweet.

The name hit him like a hoof to the gut and Metal felt his body tense, his breath catching in his chest, before he shoved the comparison away. Rarity’s the employer and you’re the employee, he reminded himself firmly. She’s not Sew Sweet. She’ll never be Sew Sweet. Keep things professional. His sigh was heavy as he touched his tie, the smooth pattern under his hoof offering only a cold comfort. I don’t even have the right to think of her as anything more than a friend.

Metal gave his head a slight shake to dispel his lingering thoughts about Rarity. I could head back to the Meadow, he thought. Build up some more inventory. After a moment, though, he frowned and shook his head again, this time in negation. His supply of jump rings was getting low after putting in a full day at the Carousel Boutique on his first day and several hours’ work in his hotel room on each of the last two nights, as opposed to his time on the street when he might be able to work a few minutes or an hour here or there amongst the struggle to survive. Rarity had agreed to order more rings when they were working on his price list last night, but the resupply wouldn’t arrive for a couple of days. He didn’t want to end up at the boutique with nothing to do.

The marketplace carried on around Metal, oblivious to his tangled thoughts. A sudden wave of warm, spiced air wrapped around him and he blinked, ears twitching as he looked up. Nearby, he spotted a building that resembled nothing so much as a whimsical multistory gingerbread house from a fairy tale. A dangling sign projecting from one corner of the building displayed a lovingly-rendered cupcake.

Sugarcube Corner. Metal recognized it from his Ponyville guidebook. Ponies trickled in and out, enough to show the famous bakery was doing a bustling business, and the warm scent of cinnamon brought to mind Shiara, the Abyssinian baker he had spoken to Rarity and Capper about. His stomach gave a quiet, but insistent rumble, despite the early hour. Maybe something sweet could help.

Metal slowed as he approached, catching a glimpse of ponies chatting over their snacks through the window. The scent alone was enough to stir a pang of nostalgia—not a specific memory, but the idea of comfort. It’s just a snack. No big deal. He adjusted his saddlebag, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

The scent of fresh pastries wrapped around Metal like a warm blanket the moment he walked through the door. The air was rich with cinnamon, vanilla, and butter, and the gentle hum of morning customers chatting over their purchases filled the space. He exhaled slowly, feeling some of the tension drain from his neck and shoulders.

“Hi, Metal!”

Before Metal could fully register the voice, Pinkie Pie popped up behind the counter, beaming at him. A young alligator, about three hooves long, draped languidly over her withers, gumming toothlessly at her puffy cotton-candy mane. “What brings you here? Wait, wait, let me guess—oooh, are you here for a ‘Congratulations-On-Another-Day-In-Ponyville’ Cupcake? Or maybe a ‘Surprise Mystery Filling’ Muffin?”

Metal blinked. He knew from his Ponyville guidebook that Pinkie worked here, but even if she wasn’t pulling a party cannon out of nowhere (yet), her sheer energy was still a bit overwhelming, even for a second meeting. “Um—”

“No, wait, I’ll get this!” Pinkie’s muzzle scrunched up cutely as she twisted and turned her head in thought. Suddenly, she gasped, her blue eyes widening as if she’d just unraveled the secrets of the universe. “I know! You need a ‘Pick-Me-Up’ Pastry!”

“Uh-” Metal began to respond, but before he could string together an answer, the sound of swinging doors interrupted him.

A comfortably plump, blue-coated earth mare in early middle age entered from the kitchen, balancing a tray of frosted cupcakes on her back. Her pink-streaked mane was swept up in a bun that managed to be practical and still resemble a cupcake topping, and the warm scent of fresh buttercream trailed behind her. “Oh, Pinkie, dear, don’t overwhelm the poor stallion,” the blue mare chided gently, sliding the tray onto the counter with practiced ease.

Metal straightened slightly as the mare turned to him with a welcoming smile. “I’m Mrs. Cake, one of the proprietors,” she said warmly. “Pinkie mentioned a new stallion in town working with Rarity—a quiet type with a unique sense of style.” Her eyes flicked to his chainmail tie with an approving twinkle. “I’d say that fits you to a T.”

Metal hesitated before offering a small nod. “Oh—um, thank you, ma’am. I’m Metal Tested.”

Mrs. Cake chuckled, waving a hoof dismissively. “Oh, none of that ‘ma’am’ business, dearie—I hear enough of that from my little troublemakers. It’s nice to meet you.”

As if on cue, a small, golden-brown pegasus colt poked his head around the counter, his messy wings twitching as he took in Metal with wide, curious brown eyes. “New pony?” he asked, tilting his head.

A blond unicorn filly with a sky-blue bow and eyes appeared beside him, mimicking his posture. “New pony,” she echoed with a sage nod.

Mrs. Cake sighed in fond exasperation and scooped both foals up with a smooth, practiced motion. “That’s right, sweeties,” she said, settling them onto her back as easily as if they were ingredients on a tray. “This is Mr. Metal Tested—he’s new in town. And these two little scamps are Pound Cake,” she pointed to the pegasus colt, “and his twin sister, Pumpkin Cake.” She nodded to the unicorn filly. “They just turned three, and before you ask, yes, they’re Carrot’s and mine. I can give the full genealogy later if you really want to know.” Her amusedly resigned tone suggested she’d heard such questions many times before.

Pumpkin’s horn sparked faintly as she pointed at Metal’s chainmail tie. “Shiny,” she murmured in quiet awe.

Metal shifted slightly, feeling an odd mix of awkwardness and amusement. “Uh… thanks?”

Pound flared his wings, puffing out his tiny chest. “I got teef!” he announced proudly.

Pumpkin, not to be outdone, opened her mouth to show her own baby teeth, then added, “I got magic!”

Mrs. Cake shook her head, smiling. “Yes, yes, you’re both very impressive, but it’s time to go back upstairs,” she said, starting toward the staircase. “Nap time soon.”

Both foals groaned dramatically. “Not sleepy,” Pound whined. Pumpkin also opened her mouth to protest, but ended up yawning instead, then blinking in surprise at her own body’s betrayal.

Mrs. Cake simply kissed the tops of their heads. “That’s what you always say. Say bye-bye to Mr. Metal.”

“Bye, Metal!” both twins waved as she carried them upstairs.

Metal let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The warmth of the exchange settled over him, leaving him with an odd but not unwelcome feeling…similar to the strange comfort he felt around Rarity, but subtly softer, more domestic. Is this what it’s like to belong? he wondered.

“Aww, they like you!” Pinkie beamed. “The Cakes are the best, huh? They took me in right when I left the rock farm, when I was a teeny-tiny twinkie Pinkie! Well, not literally a twinkie, but—oh! Speaking of sweets and feeling better, you know what else helps when you're feeling blah?”

Metal tilted his head. “Um…a ‘Pick-Me-Up’ Pastry?” he guessed, repeating Pinkie’s earlier phrase.

“Hey, great idea!” Pinkie agreed as if Metal had come up with it himself, nodding so enthusiastically that her alligator slipped off her withers. Unfazed, it simply dangled from her mane by its mouth, blinking slowly. “You’ve got that ‘thinking too hard’ look on your face,” the pink pony explained knowingly. “You look like your thoughts are going all ‘agh!’ and ‘urgh!’ and ‘orgble!’” As she spoke, she twisted her own face into various comically uncomfortable expressions as though it were made of rubber.

Metal blinked, then snorted softly, amused in spite of himself. “Well… you’re not wrong.”

“I knew it!” Pinkie crowed. “Lucky for you, Doctor Pinkie has just the prescription for what ails you!” As she bent down to check the display case, Metal instinctively glanced away, focusing on the menu board and fiddling with his tie with a forehoof.

“Aha!” Pinkie popped up a moment later, bearing a chocolate croissant wrapped in wax paper. “Here ya go, Metal!” she enthused, slipping the pastry into a small paper bag. “Flaky! Chocolatey! Guaranteed to make over-complicated thoughts at least seventy percent less worried and twisty—eighty if combined with some fuzz therapy!”

Metal paused in the act of floating a few bits from his saddlebag to the counter. “Fuzz therapy?” he asked, raising a brow.

“Yup!” Pinkie nodded sagely. “Sweet, delicious pastries are great, but you, my friend, look in need of a serious dose of floof!”

Metal hesitated as he placed his money down. “...Pinkie, I feel like you’re speaking Ponish, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Pinkie let out a dramatic gasp, clutching her chest as if he’d just insulted her entire baking lineage down to the twelfth generation. “Metal! Do you mean to tell me you don’t know about the life-changing magic of Sweet Feather Sanctuary!?”

Metal’s brow furrowed. “That’s the animal sanctuary Fluttershy founded, right?” he ventured. “I mean, I’ve read about it in my Ponyville guidebook…”

Pinkie reeled back, eyes wide, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks. “Read about it? READ about it!?” she shrieked. “That’s like reading about cake instead of eating it!”

She threw her forehooves skyward, wobbling on her hind legs as though struggling to balance under the sheer weight of Metal’s blasphemy. “You gotta experience the floof! The fuzzies! The adorable little paws and hooves and wings and snouts and tiny little toe beans!” Each word was punctuated with wildly exaggerated gestures, ending in a dramatic flourish so intense that she nearly toppled over backward.

Metal instinctively took a step back, his ears flattening against his head as if he could physically brace himself against the hurricane of Pinkie’s energy. His chest tightened, and for one wild moment, he wished desperately for a hole to open up and swallow him whole. “I-I thought the sanctuary was private, not a zoo!” he blurted out as Pinkie Pie finally paused to draw a breath. “Fluttershy wouldn’t want a bunch of strangers traipsing through and bothering the animals…”

Pinkie froze mid-wobble—then snapped back to normal as if nothing had happened, dropping onto all fours so abruptly that her alligator gave a slow blink of mild protest. “Ohhh, you’ve got one of theOLD guidebooks,” she nodded sagely, as if Metal had just uncovered an ancient secret. “Well, you’re not wrong, but you’re not really right either. Fluttershy set up walking paths and started letting ponies take tours a few months ago. She has really strict rules about bothering the animals, but she talks to them, so it’s totally okay if they come up to you!”

She grinned. “It’s so cute, watching the little baby animals playing together! And I think she’s working there this morning, so you can get another autograph for your Friendship Journal!”

Metal exhaled slowly, his thoughts still whirling from Pinkie’s whiplash transition from overenthusiastic recommender to informative tour guide. He had always found a quiet solace in the company of animals that seemed to elude him around most ponies. They didn’t pry, didn’t judge—only cared about how you treated them. Maybe a visit to Fluttershy’s sanctuary was what he needed to help his mind settle after the cyclone of events the past few days.

Still…was this really something he should do? It felt…indulgent, like something meant for ponies who actually belonged here. “I…” He hesitated, doubts still gnawing at him. What if he made a bad first impression? What if Fluttershy, with her natural empathy, saw too much?

“Uhp!” Pinkie Pie interrupted Metal’s chain of thought. “I know that look, too!”

Metal flinched slightly. “Um…you do?”

Pinkie nodded sagely. “You’re thinking, ‘Wowzies, I might have another chance to meet a pony I’ve read a really really lot about, but what if she doesn’t like me?’ Am I right?” She grinned playfully.

Metal stared at her, vaguely unnerved by how easily she had pinned down his thoughts. “...You are frighteningly good at that.”

Pinkie beamed. “Years of finding the perfect pastries and party themes!”

“Well…you’re not wrong,” Metal admitted. “The way I reacted to your…your party at the boutique…meeting new ponies has always scared me a little.”

Pinkie’s playful smile softened. “Relaaax, Metal-Petal-Fo-Fetal,” she said comfortingly, reaching across the counter to pat him on the shoulder. “Fluttershy likes everypony, unless you’re a meanie…and she even gives meanies a chance!”

With her free hoof, she pointed out toward the street beyond the shop door. “Now, what you do is go down this street, take a left at the windmill, a right at the park, then go in a northerly-south direction until you see the nicest, most peacefulest-relaxingest place you’ve ever seen! If you run into the Everfree Forest, you’ve gone too far, but if you see a bear giving a bunny a back massage, you know you’re in the right place.”

Metal blinked. “...A bear giving a bunny a back massage?”

“Yup!” Pinkie nodded. “Angel Bunny has, like, a VIP spa membership there.”

Metal wasn’t sure what to make of that, but at this point, he decided it was easier to just roll with it. “Right,” he said, shifting his saddlebag to a more comfortable position. “Thanks, Pinkie. And, um, thanks for the croissant.”

“You betcha! Enjoy the floof!” Pinkie called after him as he turned toward the door.

Metal paused just outside the shop door, telekinetically pulling the chocolate croissant from the wax-paper bag and nibbling at one pointed end. Despite the way Pinkie’s boundless energy and cheerfulness made his head spin, he felt somewhat…lighter than he had before.

Still, he hesitated. The sanctuary sounded wonderful, but doubts gnawed at him. Maybe I SHOULD just head back to the Meadow and work, he thought, then exhaled through his nose. No. If he ran out of materials, he’d just end up pacing in his hotel room until the boutique opened.

Metal sighed, adjusting his saddlebag again. If nothing else, he could at least take Pinkie’s advice and see the sanctuary for himself. The croissant’s flaky warmth lingered on his tongue—small, fleeting, but still real. Maybe, just maybe, he could let himself have this, too.

Metal paused at the crest of a low hill, his breath hitching at the sight below. Sweet Feather Sanctuary stretched before him like something from a dream—lush, vibrant, and alive in a way that felt almost surreal. A small forest bordered the little valley, letting the animals come and go as they pleased, and a gentle waterfall tumbled from an artificial rock face, its sparkling waters feeding a pond before trickling into a winding stream. Trees, some outfitted with climbing platforms and rope bridges, dotted the landscape, providing shade and shelter. Open meadows of soft grass stretched in between, offering ample space for creatures to lounge, play, or simply exist in peace.

A pink flamingo stood on one leg in the pond with a kind of awkward grace, its vibrant feathers catching the sunlight in flashes of coral and rose. Nearby, a bear dozed contentedly in a hammock strung between two palm trees, paws twitching slightly in its sleep. All around, creatures of every kind roamed, played, or napped in the warm sunshine. Despite the open, unrestricted design of the sanctuary, predators and prey coexisted in remarkable harmony, as if under some unspoken truce.

Metal took a slow breath, drinking in the atmosphere. For all its openness, the sanctuary had a stillness to it—an unforced peace. The animals didn’t seem penned in, yet they remained, as if bound not by walls or fences, but by trust.

At the entrance, Metal inserted a few bits into the ticket machine and retrieved the small paper slip it dispensed. Tucking the ticket carefully into his saddlebag, he started down the roped-off path, his ears twitching at the medley of sounds—chirping birds, rustling leaves, the gentle babble of the stream. A pair of fox kits tumbled playfully just beyond the path’s edge, their reddish fur gleaming in the sunlight as they wrestled and pounced.

Nearby, a jackalope grazed under a shady tree, its long ears twitching and swiveling to follow every sound. Its antlers were mismatched, one a normal antelope antler, the other strangely twisted and prongless. Higher up, a raven perched on a sturdy branch, its black feathers gleaming with an oil-slick sheen. Beside it, a dark brown Somnambulan bat hung upside-down, its leathery wings tucked snugly around its body; a large white patch on its jaw gave it the appearance of wearing a masked cowl. Both creatures watched Metal with curious intensity.

The raven suddenly leaned forward, its beady eyes fixed on him as it croaked out a single word: “Shiny!”

Metal blinked, then chuckled softly, glancing down at his chainmail tie and belt. “Looks like we’re establishing a theme here,” he murmured before looking back up at the bird. “Not for you, though. Mine.”

The raven cawed, then shifted its weight, letting its body swing upside-down beside the bat. The bat turned its head toward its new dangling companion, sniffing and licking at the raven as though greeting an old friend. On the ground, the jackalope sat up on its haunches, watching Metal with oddly intelligent yellow-and-red eyes. Now that it wasn’t grazing, Metal could see that it had one overgrown snaggletooth hanging almost over its chin, giving it a somewhat comical appearance.

Chuckling at the animals’ antics, Metal turned away to continue down the path, only to be drawn up short by a smooth, amused male voice saying, “And what have we here? A little lost knight, wandering in search of a worthy quest?”

Metal stiffened, glancing around. He didn’t see anypony nearby; only the animals. The raven released its hold on the branch next to the bat and twisted in the air, fluttering its wings to land upright on a lower branch. “Who’s there?” he called, trying to keep his voice steady.

After a few moments of silence, Metal glanced up at the raven. “Was that you?” he wondered aloud; he’d read that ravens were good mimics when they wanted to be, and Rarity had told him that animals Fluttershy took care of acquired unusual intelligence.

The voice came again, even though the raven’s beak remained closed. “Oh, sure, credit the bird with the intelligent commentary. Surely it couldn’t have been your imagination. That would just be crazy.”

Metal whirled around in a full circle, startled. “Who said that?” he demanded, his ears pinning back as he looked around for the source of the voice. His horn glowed, surrounding his chainmail belt in an aura of his telekinetic magic.

“Oh, ho! Preparing to do battle with the fearsome fuzzy friends who’ve taken up residence here?” the voice chuckled with mocking amusement. “I mean, I suppose I can’t entirely blame you…there’s one bunny who can be quite the little gremlin when he doesn’t get his way.”

Metal’s ears flicked. He followed the voice downward—toward the jackalope. It wasn’t just watching him anymore. Its mouth moved. Its voice—calm, taunting, undeniably sentient—drifted up to him. “Still, jumping to fight-or-flight so quickly? What war zone did you come from?”

Metal’s jaw slackened and legs tensed, and he shook his head. “This is impossible,” he muttered. “Jackalopes don’t talk. Mimic and sing, maybe, but not talk.”

“Oh-ho, and a scholar of nature as well!” the jackalope said, clapping its front paws. “Well, I suppose such a discerning mind does deserve a little credit. Just a skosh.” With an expression suspiciously like a smirk (Could jackalopes smirk? Metal wondered), the antlered hare extended a front paw and snapped its toes with a flourish.

There was a flash of light and the jackalope twisted and elongated like taffy, stretching into a serpentine form almost three times Metal’s height. Feathers, fur and scales blended chaotically across its mismatched body parts…two separate wings, one a bat’s, one a bird’s, a snakelike tail with a white tuft of hair at the end, a goat leg and dragon leg, a lion paw and eagle talon, a head somewhere between a pony’s and a goat’s with heavy white eyebrows, a stiff black mane and a caprine beard. The only things that remained the same from the jackalope form were the mismatched horns, yellow-and-red eyes and oversized snaggletooth.

“Discord,” Metal gasped, his magic faltering as he took a step back.

“Give the stallion a prize!” Discord declaimed as he struck a dramatic pose, a sash bearing the golden phrase “Best Chaos Spirit” appearing draped over his elongated torso while confetti rained from nowhere and a trumpet fanfare sounded. “Lord of Chaos, Prince of Pandemonium, Sultan of Shenanigans, Overlord of the Unexpected! And you would be…?” The tall draconequus leaned close, manifesting a pair of half-glasses to examine Metal Tested more closely as the rest of his accoutrements vanished back into the ether.

Metal took another step back, his breath hitching and speeding up against his will. He’d read about the capricious demigod, of course--everypony had--and he couldn’t suppress a feeling of awestruck terror. On the one hoof, Discord had usurped Celestia and Luna’s rule early in their reign, turning Equestria into a wasteland of chaos. Not even the basic rules of reality functioned consistently until the Princesses found and used the Elements of Harmony to petrify him—the first time the Elements had ever been wielded. On the other hoof, the Friendship Journal described how, over a year after his escape and re-defeat at the hooves of the Element Bearers, Fluttershy had managed to (mostly) reform him by showing him the power of friendship.

But then, there was Lord Tirek’s magic-devouring rampage through Equestria.

Metal’s breath caught as an all-too-vivid memory surged forward, unbidden.

Light—too bright—flashed against high, confining walls. The air, naturally cool, but made warm and stale by too many bodies in close quarters, stirred as dozens of stallions turned toward the flash.

Two figures. One massive, bull-horned, grinning like a beast before a kill. The other long, serpentine, grinning with mockery rather than hunger as an eagle talon rose in a lazy, dismissive gesture. A smooth, amused voice. “Go ahead. It’s not like they can fight back.”

Discord.

Murmurs. Tension. Too many bodies, too close.

And then—the centaur’s mouth opening in a massive inhalation. Light streaming from the gathered ponies to his gaping maw, a mass of stolen magic glowing between his bull-like horns like a captured star.

A sound like the sky itself being torn apart. Light streaming from Metal’s horn. Something yanked from inside him. Gone. Stolen.

He hit the dirt as his legs gave way. A hundred others fell with him. Screaming. Blank flanks. Empty eyes.

Laughter—Tirek’s. Discord’s. Both.

And above it all, the walls stood high, unbroken. Uncaring. Unyielding.

No escape…

No! Metal forced the memory back down, shoving it into the dark recesses where it belonged. Don’t think about it. Do NOT think about it!

"Helloooo?" Discord waved a lion paw in front of Metal’s eyes. "I may be the most handsome, brilliant, all-around amazing and ONLY draconequus in existence, but—" With a snap, a flash of light transformed him into a Saddle Arabian mystic from a story, draped in flowing silk robes and a bejeweled turban. The peacock feather decorating his turban drooped with a sorrowful squeak, like a mistuned violin. "Alas, mind reading is not among my many awesome and incredible talents."

Metal exhaled sharply, willing himself to breathe. His horn tingled—not from magic, but from the phantom ache of its loss. His legs felt weaker, as if the memory itself had stolen his strength all over again. For a long, terrifying moment, all he could see was the past. The smirking draconequus who had brought Tirek to a place where ponies were gathered, helpless. Who had laughed alongside the monster that had drained them dry.

And yet—

He’s still here. Still free. Still laughing. No trial. No punishment. Why?

Books, newspapers and magazines described a Discord who had changed. One who had been forgiven. One who had been given a second chance, and a third, and more.

Metal’s throat tightened. He had read the stories. Discord had betrayed them all, and even now, he was prone to fits of temper and selfishness that could range from inconvenient to devastating to those around him.

And yet, the Princesses forgave him. Fluttershy forgave him. Ponyville forgave him. No matter how often he screwed up, they forgave him.

How many times will it take before they don't forgive him anymore?

The thought hit unbidden, sharp and bitter. And yet, beneath that bitterness, something else stirred. Something quieter. Something… aching.

They let him move forward, no matter how many times he’s failed. Isn’t that what you want?

Metal had come to Ponyville looking for a new start. He couldn’t very well begrudge an entity that had found that very thing.

“Sorry,” Metal shook his head, releasing his telekinetic hold on his belt. He swallowed, forcing himself to lift his chin and meet Discord’s gaze. “I…you startled me. I’m Metal Tested.” He tried to sound normal, casual, but his voice felt off to his own ears.

Discord’s grin didn’t falter—but his eyes narrowed, just slightly. “Hmmm,” the draconequus hummed, stroking his goatish beard with an exaggerated flourish. "That was quite the dramatic pause there, my dear Metal Tested. You weren’t monologuing in your head, were you? Because you had that ‘dark and brooding’ expression just now, and if you’re going to do that, you simply must have a cape.” With a snap of Discord’s lion paw, a black, billowing cape appeared around Metal’s shoulders, fluttering dramatically in an otherwise-imperceptible wind.

Metal flinched at the sudden weight of fabric. “What the—?”

"Ah, yes," Discord continued, clasping his mismatched forelimbs together with satisfaction. "Now this is a proper tragic hero look! Brooding cape? Check. Pained stare into the distance? Check! Angsty silence? Oh-ho, you’re a natural!"

Metal scowled, shaking the cape off with a shudder. “I’m not—!”

“Not embracing the drama, that’s what!” Discord cut in, catching the cape before it hit the ground and draping it over his own shoulders instead. He struck a ridiculous, over-the-top pose, the back of his eagle talon pressed to his forehead while a strange white half-mask appeared to cover the right half of his face and a dramatic pipe-organ note sounded from thin air. “Oh, cruel fate! Oh, misery upon my soul! What wretched agony dost thou bring to my doorstep? What could possibly be haunting the thoughts of one so mysterious?” He waggled his eyebrows at Metal.

Metal’s ears flattened. He suddenly felt exposed in a way he didn’t like. “Nothing’s haunting my thoughts,” he muttered, shuffling a hoof. “You’re overreacting.”

“Oh, I never overreact,” Discord said, dramatically swooning onto a fainting couch that hadn’t been there a moment ago. “I merely... over-enhance.” He cracked open one eye, watching Metal carefully. “Buuuut, if you insist there’s nothing broody and tragic going on in that little pony head of yours, I suppose I’ll take your word for it.”

Metal exhaled, hoping that was the end of it.

“For now,” Discord added with a sly grin, flicking Metal’s horn and making it vibrate back and forth like a spring.

Before Metal could react, the draconequus snapped his claws, his cape and mask vanishing in a puff of smoke. As Metal coughed and waved the smoke away with a hoof, he realized he was now wearing a brightly-colored clown wig and bulbous red nose. “You know,” Discord mused, tilting his head, “this look really suits you better. Much more approachable.”

Metal froze, eyes widening in horror as he reached a hoof up to his mane and felt the unruly synthetic texture of the clown wig. His reflection stared back at him in the glass of a nearby bird feeder—a ridiculous explosion of color clashing horribly with his silver-gray coat, and the absurd red nose completing the ensemble. “You have got to be joking,” he groaned with muted horror

“Oh, but of course I am, Mr. Punchline!” Discord said with a cheerful grin.

Metal’s jaw tightened and he batted away the humiliating wig and nose with sharp, jerky movements. “It’s not funny,” he muttered.

“Ooh, tough crowd!” Discord smirked, floating lazily in the air. “You just seem so serious, I thought you might enjoy a little levity.”

As if on cue, the raven suddenly swooped down from its branch to land on Metal’s withers, cawing and pecking at the necklace bearing his chainmail tie. “Hey! What the-?” Metal cried out, rearing up on his hind legs and bucking a few times instinctively. The raven cawed and flapped its wings for balance, digging its sharp little claws into Metal’s shoulders to hang on. “Shiny! Mine!” it croaked, while up above, the Somnambulan bat fluttered its wings and squeaked in a way that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

“Discord! What are you doing now?” called a high, sweet voice laced with equal parts affection and exasperation. Distracted from the raven perching on his back (thankfully, neither beak nor talons had drawn blood), Metal turned toward the voice…and momentarily forgot to breathe.

He had seen pictures of Fluttershy before—plenty of them, from old spreads from her brief modeling career to the snapshots of the Element Bearers included in the published Friendship Journal. But none of them could have prepared him for the real thing.

Fluttershy wasn’t striking the same way Rarity was, with every detail carefully perfected to catch the eye. Instead, her beauty felt… effortless. Slender and sylphlike, her yellow coat and pink mane caught the sunlight like the gentle glow of dawn breaking through morning mist, and her teal eyes shone with warmth as she balanced a basket of fruits and vegetables on her back, her wings subtly shifting to keep it steady. There was a smooth rhythm to her movements—fluid, unhurried, and strangely captivating. For a moment, Metal felt as though she belonged entirely to the sanctuary, as natural a part of it as the trees or the stream. He didn’t know how to explain it, but it was… calming.

Still, it wasn’t just her appearance that held him in place. Her voice had cut through the chaotic energy surrounding Discord, somehow warm and firm at the same time. It had a grounding quality, and Metal could feel the tension in his chest begin to ease just from hearing it. He wanted to focus on what she was saying, but it was as if his mind had been slowed, lulled by the soothing tone of her words.

“Doing?” Discord repeated, affecting an air of innocence (complete with a halo popping into existence over his head). “Why, my dear Fluttershy, I was simply welcoming this latest visitor to your lovely sanctuary!” Behind his back, Metal saw the draconequus snap the claws of his lion paw, the clown props vanishing from where they had fallen to the ground.

Fluttershy raised an eyebrow, her expression… skeptical, maybe? Metal wasn’t sure. He thought her ears twitched slightly, but he couldn’t tell if that meant she was amused, annoyed, or something else entirely.

Discord’s tail twisted behind him, and Metal got the vague impression that the movement was… guilty? Or defensive? It was hard to tell, especially since Discord was far from being a pony. Metal frowned slightly, wondering if he was overthinking things again.

“Welcoming him…creatively,” Discord amended after a moment. The tuft of hair on the tip of his tail writhed and snapped like his front claws and Metal saw a quick flash of light from behind himself. When he turned his head to look, the raven on his back was wearing a miniature bowtie. “See? Friendly as can be.”

Fluttershy sighed—a soft sound that was hard for Metal to interpret. She didn’t seem upset, but her expression was too subtle for him to read. “Your definition of ‘friendly’ doesn’t always match other creatures’, Discord,” she said, her tone seeming to carry both patience and exasperation.

“Oh, come now, Fluttershy,” Discord interjected, floating between the two ponies. “If anything, I’ve saved this poor stallion from a simple, boring nature walk.”

“I like nature walks…” Metal protested in an undertone.

Ignoring him, Discord continued, “I HAVE suggested before that you have some of the animals perform a musical number for arriving guests…”

“No, Discord,” the yellow pegasus answered firmly as the chaos spirit raised his lion paw, preparing to snap his claws. “The animals are here to relax and recuperate, not entertain visitors.”

“Oh, you’re no fun,” Discord said, crossing his forelimbs and floating a few hooves up in the air to sulk. “None at all.” Despite the eldritch being’s pouting, Metal got the sense that this was a conversation he and Fluttershy had had many times before, like the bantering between an old married couple in a novel or play.

Fluttershy shook her head again, though her gaze seemed to linger on Discord a moment longer than strictly necessary before she turned her attention back to Metal. “I hope he hasn’t caused you too much trouble,” she said. “Welcome to Sweet Feather Sanctuary. I’m Fluttershy, the manager and caretaker.”

“Oh!” Metal twitched and blushed as he realized Fluttershy expected a response; for a moment, he’d been so caught up in the soothing rhythms of her voice that he hadn’t absorbed the message itself. “Uh, no, no trouble,” he stammered. “I mean…thank you.” He glanced back at the raven still perched on his withers, which was trying to undo the tiny bow tie Discord had put on it. “Um…I hope this doesn’t count as disturbing the animals?”

Fluttershy giggled softly, a light, airy sound that somehow made Metal feel less self-conscious. “No, it’s fine if they come to you,” she assured him. “He was probably just curious about your…necklace?” Her gaze shifted briefly to the chainmail tie around his neck. “Ravens are very intelligent, and they like shiny things.”

“I know,” Metal said, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I’ve read about how smart they can be. They even recognize faces, don’t they?”

Fluttershy’s expression brightened, her smile growing wider. “That’s right. They’re incredible creatures.”

Metal opened his mouth to respond, but his words caught in his throat as Fluttershy’s gaze met his again. His shyness came crashing back, and he felt his ears growing warm. Swallowing hard, Metal forced himself to continue meeting her eyes. “Um… I’m Metal Tested,” he said, awkwardly extending a hoof.

Fluttershy shook his hoof, her touch gentle but firm. “I thought you might be,” she said kindly. “You look just the way Rarity described you.”

“Oh…you were one of the ones she talked to?” Metal asked, feeling his blush deepen even as his ears perked up and he felt an odd, not-unpleasant twist in his chest. “She, um, mentioned telling some of her friends about me…”

“Oh-ho!” Discord perked up, twisting in midair to thrust his head down in between Metal and Fluttershy. “Our dear, elegant Rarity, gossiping about a stallion who isn’t nobility or a celebrity?”

There was a flash of light, and suddenly Discord, Fluttershy, Metal, and the bat and raven were all seated around a diner table that appeared in the middle of the path. They all had milkshakes, complete with cherries on top, and Metal and the animals were dressed in black jackets and comical pompadour hairstyles, while Discord and Fluttershy were in frilly dresses with oversized skirts embroidered with poodles. Discord leaned forward on his elbows, sporting a blond wig done up in pigtails. “Tell me more, tell me more!”

Metal blinked, his eyes darting between the milkshake and the ridiculous outfits Discord had put them all in. His brain scrambled to catch up with the rapid shifts, leaving him feeling like he was stuck in a dream he didn’t remember falling asleep for. “Um…I…” he stuttered.

Beside him, the Somnambulan bat squeaked and fluttered its wings just enough to hook its tiny claws onto the rim of its milkshake glass. With a determined stretch, it pulled itself up and leaned forward, snagging the cherry on top in one swift bite. The sight of the bat’s little snout getting smeared with whipped cream as it gnawed at the fruit made Metal smile in spite of his nervousness. The raven walked around the surface of the table, examining its distorted reflection in each milkshake glass in turn and occasionally muttering “Shiny,” to itself.

Fluttershy stirred her milkshake with her straw, giving Discord a look that was more patient than scolding, as if she were gently guiding an excitable foal back on track. “Discord,” she said, her tone light but firm, “maybe let Metal catch his breath before you pull him into one of your productions?”

Discord gasped, pressing his lion paw to his chest in exaggerated offense. “Productions? This? Why, Fluttershy, I am merely fostering an environment of lively camaraderie!” He snapped his eagle talon and a jukebox appeared nearby, playing a quick “jitterbug” tune. “Now, come on, Metal, darling,” Discord said, leaning onto Metal’s shoulder and fluttering his eyelashes flirtatiously. “Dish up the dirt!”

Metal twitched, his entire body stiffening at the unexpected contact. His ears pinned back as he leaned awkwardly away, the artificial scent of strawberry shampoo wafting from Discord’s wig. What was he supposed to do here? Laugh it off? Politely excuse himself? The rules of engagement when dealing with someone like Discord felt completely foreign. “Uh-um…” he stammered again, desperately glancing at Fluttershy for help.

“Discord,” Fluttershy repeated, a quiet but undeniable thread of authority in her voice.

“Oh, very well,” Discord sniffed, sitting up straight and smoothing down his poodle skirt. “If I must lower myself to the docile demeanor of your tame woodland critters…”

Fluttershy reached out to gently brush Discord’s lion forelimb with one of her wings. “You could never be tame, Discord,” she said. “But let’s keep things lower-key for now, for Metal’s sake.”

Discord crossed his arms with another exaggerated pout as he muttered, “Oh, fine, spoil my fun…” under his breath before snapping the jukebox into oblivion. “But the milkshakes stay. They’re an aesthetic necessity.”

“And they’re delicious,” Fluttershy smiled, taking a sip of hers.

“So, Rarity was talking about you, was she?” Discord asked, turning his attention back to Metal. “Do you happen to know what was said?” Suddenly, the draconequus was dressed as a stereotypical reporter, fedora tilted at a jaunty angle while he scribbled on a notepad. “Enquiring minds want to know!”

Metal’s ears pinned back, his cheeks feeling hot as a summer day. “I-I really don’t know what Rarity said about me!” he blurted out. “She just said something about ‘outrageous speculations’ her friends made and…well, she didn’t really go into detail…” He looked down, rubbing his mane and suddenly finding his milkshake very interesting.

Fluttershy’s own cheeks flushed a delicate pink that was almost a match for her mane and tail. “Oh, um, yes. I suppose some of the girl talk got a little…risque,” she admitted sheepishly. “She told us how you met, though, and I thought it was very sweet.” She gave Metal a comforting smile. “Rarity said you’re shy, like I used to be, and a talented jeweler. She was wearing one of the bracelets you gave her.”

“She was?” Metal’s ears perked up.

“She was?” Discord’s grin widened salaciously as he looked at Metal. “Giving the lady fair jewelry so soon, are you? I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you!” Two clones of Discord appeared behind him, joining in his exaggerated applause. “Bravo, brave little bronco! Bravo indeed!”

Metal hunched down in his seat, his shoulders drawing up toward his ears as he felt his blush deepen. In spite of his discomfort with the attention, he felt something in his chest seem to tighten and relax at the same time. “I…she wanted to take me to the Grand Galloping Gourmet to celebrate when we agreed to sell my work through her boutique,” he muttered bashfully. “She thought that wearing some of my work would be good advertising, so I gave it to her as a gift.”

He studied his milkshake intently, picking up the cherry in his telekinesis and spinning it around and around, his magical “touch” exploring the slick surface. “I saw she was wearing one of the bracelets while we worked on the price list last night, but I didn’t know she wore it to the school…”

“She did,” Fluttershy nodded, reaching over to gently remove the raven’s tiny jacket and pompadour, smoothing its feathers back into place. “She’s always had an eye for beautiful accessories. It wouldn’t surprise me if she starts a fad for your work among the students.”

Metal felt a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth in spite of his embarrassment. “That’d be… nice,” he said.

Having finished its own treat, the bat crawled awkwardly toward Metal on its wings and feet, squeaking and looking up at him with big eyes as its long, agile tongue flicked out to lick whipped cream from its snout.

“Aww, I think he likes you,” Fluttershy giggled, running her hoof along the raven’s back as she fed it the fruit from her own milkshake. The raven held its prize in its beak and cawed, giving Discord and Metal a look that Metal could only describe as smug.

“Yes, yes, laugh it up, featherbrain,” Discord smirked. “You like cherries?” He snapped his eagle talon, and a clump of the tiny fruits manifested just over the raven’s head, pattering down to bury it alive. “How do you like them cherries?”

Metal couldn’t help laughing as the bird’s head popped up out of the pile, shaking back and forth with an indignant squawk. Feeling something brushing against his hoof, he looked down to see the bat “pawing” at him with a wing, eyes locked on his own levitating red morsel with an expression of pure, puppyish pleading. “What… you want this?” he asked, lowering the fruit toward the little chiropteran. “Here you go.”

The bat squeaked in delight, opening its mouth wide to gnaw at its treat. Fluttershy chuckled fondly as she watched the interactions between Discord, Metal, and the animals. “These two have been inseparable ever since they came to the sanctuary,” she explained. “Ravens and bats are both very social.”

Metal nodded. “I lived down in the Bone-Dry Desert for a few years as a foal, near the Abyssinian border,” he said; a part of him was surprised at how easily the words came, without his usual stumbling and stuttering. “I used to hear stories about Somnambulan bats guiding lost travelers to oases. The Abyssinians call them ‘shiri mrru’...‘night singers’.” He raised a hoof slightly, then hesitated, glancing at Fluttershy. “Do you think he’d let me pet him?”

Fluttershy chuckled. “I think he’d like that very much,” she nodded encouragingly. “Bats and ravens get a bad reputation for being strange and scary, but ones that spend a lot of time with ponies tend to act a lot like puppies.”

Metal nodded, using his telekinetic magic to gently remove the pompadour wig and jacket Discord had summoned onto the bat, then running a hoof carefully over the soft, wooly fur and leathery wings. The bat let out a contented squeak, muffled by the mouthful of cherry, and leaned its head into Metal’s touch, closing its eyes and murring in pleasure as he rubbed between its large, expressively mobile ears.

“Yeah, you like this, don’tcha, little guy?” Metal chuckled. “Good bat.” He looked up at Fluttershy. “Do these two have names?”

“Not really,” Fluttershy shook her head. “Most animals don’t think of themselves in terms of names the same way ponies do, though pets learn it from being around us.”

“For example, Angel Bunny insists on being called ‘His Royal Highness, Grand Overlord of All Carrots,” Discord interjected with a smirk, taking a sip from his milkshake.

Fluttershy gave Discord a look that Metal found hard to read, though she had a small smile as she did so. “Anyway, Dr. Fauna and I give the wild animals names while they’re here, but that’s really more for our convenience.” She motioned to the bat, which was alternating between rubbing its head against Metal’s hoof and giving it affectionate licks. “I’ve been calling him Cuddles, and the raven Snowflake. They’re both males.”

Metal blinked. “Snowflake?” he repeated. He glanced at the raven, who was pulling himself out of Discord’s summoned pile of cherries and shaking his feathers back into place with an air of offended dignity. The inky black pinions gleamed in the midday sun, a stark contrast to the name.

“I thought it was a cute irony,” Fluttershy explained, taking Metal’s skepticism in stride.

Discord let out a delighted guffaw. “Oh, I love it!” he laughed. “A perfectly poetic contradiction. Why, it’s almost as ridiculous as calling this one Sunshine Swagger!” He motioned to Metal with his lion paw, then smiled at Fluttershy. “I daresay, Fluttershy, you grow more chaotic all the time!”

Metal shook his head, resting his chin on one forehoof while still using the other to pet the bat. “I dunno. I think ‘Cuddles’ might be worse.”

At that exact moment, the bat stretched, flaring its wings and letting out an adorable high-pitched yawn before wrapping his wings and feet around Metal’s foreleg, tucking his head in under Metal’s hoof.

Fluttershy giggled. “Well, he is a cuddler,” she pointed out. "Maybe that jacket reminds him of another bat's wings—smooth and cozy."

Metal sighed, a reluctant smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. “All right, fair enough.”

Letting out an annoyed caw, as if jealous of the attention his companion was receiving, Snowflake the raven hopped into the air, flapping over to land on Metal’s withers again. As Metal glanced back, the corvid began stroking his beak through Metal’s mane, as if preening him. “Good pony, good pony,” the bird muttered between each stroke of his beak.

Discord burst out laughing. “You know, I was going to make a joke here, but the real thing is just too perfect.” Pulling a camera from nowhere, he snapped a picture with a blinding flash. When Metal blinked the spots from his vision, the chaos spirit was holding a newspaper featuring a picture of Metal, looking slightly befuddled by the camera flash while he pet the bat and the raven seemed to pet him in turn. Mysterious Metalworker Mingles with Mischievous Minions—Locals Love the Lunacy, read the headline.

Metal shook his head, glancing at Fluttershy. “Is he always like this?” he asked.

Fluttershy sighed indulgently. “Sometimes, he’s much worse,” she admitted. “I think he really is just trying to make you feel welcome.”

Before Metal could fully process that information, he heard a soft click—then the weight of his chainmail tie vanished from his neck. What the—? A blur of black feathers shot past his vision. Snowflake! The raven took off from his withers, croaking, “Mine! Mine!” triumphantly as he flapped away, Metal’s tie gleaming in his beak.

Metal’s brain stalled for a half-second, caught between confusion and indignation, before shouting, “Hey!” He jumped up, his chair scraping against the ground with a screech loud enough to startle a few nearby animals. A sharp squeak cut through the air as Cuddles flared his wings in alarm, tightening his grip on Metal’s foreleg with his feet.

“Oh dear,” Fluttershy’s voice cut in, calm but knowing. “Not again…” Metal glanced toward her, confused, but she was already on her hooves, wings spreading. “Snowflake does that sometimes,” she explained quickly, tracking the raven’s flight path. “I’ll help you get it back.” With that, she took off into the air, poodle skirt billowing as her wings flapped.

Metal’s first instinct was to go bolting after Snowflake, but Cuddles still clung to his foreleg, squeaking insistently. “Alright, alright—off you go, little guy,” Metal muttered, giving his hoof a gentle shake to encourage the bat to loosen his grip.

Cuddles hesitated, wings twitching—then finally let go, flapping into the air and circling overhead.

Metal took off, galloping after the raven. Snowflake barely glanced back, cawing mockingly as he flapped toward the wooded area near the sanctuary’s waterfall.

Metal started to follow on instinct, only to pull up short at the rope barrier marking the hoofpath. Would chasing after Snowflake upset the other animals? Would Fluttershy be mad?

As if sensing his concern, Fluttershy glanced back toward him. “It’s okay, Metal! You can follow—just be careful!”

With a quick nod of thanks, Metal hopped the barrier and sprinted after her in a quick canter, constantly shifting his focus—tracking Snowflake in the air while also watching his step to avoid the animals below. Above him, Cuddles gave a series of excited squeaks before diving forward, joining the chase.

“Oh, now, THIS is entertainment!” Discord cackled, materializing an opera balcony seat above the sanctuary, complete with opera glasses and a box of popcorn for himself. “What riveting drama! The tragic knight, his treasured artifact stolen! The noble maiden, soaring to his aid! The little flappy sidekick who just wants to have fun!” He tossed a clawful of popcorn into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Hm…needs more chase music, though.” With a snap of his eagle talon, jazzy, fast-paced saxophone music began playing from nowhere, its beat and rhythm seeming to emphasize the twists and turns of the chase perfectly.

Metal barely noticed Discord’s antics as he skidded around a corner. A pair of otters that had been lounging in the sun squeaked indignantly as he nearly tripped over them, scrambling into the water to avoid his hooves. “Sorry!” Metal called back to them as they waved their balled-up front paws after him. Snowflake had reached a tall tree near the sanctuary’s waterfall and perched triumphantly on a high branch, the chainmail tie glinting in his beak.

“Oh, you little—!” Metal gritted his teeth, lighting his horn and grasping at the tie with his telekinesis.

Snowflake, however, wasn’t finished playing yet. With a mocking caw, he flapped away just before Metal’s aura could take hold, dropping several feet before swooping toward a different perch. His escape sent Metal stumbling forward, his telekinesis fizzling out in frustration.

“Maybe try asking nicely?” Discord called from his floating balcony. “Ravens are rather big on favors, you know.”

Fluttershy hovered just above the tree, giving the raven a patient but firm look. “You should give that back now, Snowflake,” she called gently. “That’s not a toy, and it doesn’t belong to you.”

The raven croaked in response—something between defiance and cheeky amusement.

Cuddles the bat, meanwhile, had his own ideas. He swooped up toward the raven, chittering excitedly, as if trying to join in the fun. With an unexpected burst of speed, he zoomed in close, nudging Snowflake’s beak playfully before snatching the chainmail tie in his feet and flapping away, chirping triumphantly.

“Hey!” Metal gasped, eyes widening. “Oh, come on—not you too!”

Snowflake squawked in outrage and immediately took off after Cuddles, chasing after its stolen prize. Now the bat had joined the game properly, flapping away in an erratic zigzag pattern, squeaking playfully as the raven pursued.

Fluttershy sighed, though her expression was more amused than exasperated. “I think they just want to play with you, Metal.”

Metal groaned, running a hoof down his face. “Why couldn’t they have just wanted more cherries?”

“Oh, they could have,” Discord agreed, idly munching his popcorn. “But then we wouldn’t be having this much fun!” With another snap, Metal suddenly found himself dressed in a ridiculous adventurer’s getup, complete with a brown fedora and a whip. “Go on, Mighty Metal!” Discord declared in a dramatic voice. “Retrieve your priceless artifact before it falls into enemy claws forever!”

Metal huffed, shaking off the outfit. “Not helping.”

“Not trying to,” Discord sang back with a smirk.

Fluttershy, ignoring Discord’s antics, turned to Metal. “I think I can get them to come down if we give them something else to focus on,” she said. “Do you have anything shiny you might not mind them having?”

Metal frowned, patting his saddlebag with a hoof. “I might have something…” Digging through his saddlebag with his hooves and telekinesis, he pulled out a small brass chain, one of his early practice pieces. It was simple, but it gleamed nicely in the sunlight.

Fluttershy nodded approvingly. “Perfect. Let me try something.” Taking the chain, she flapped up to hover a few feet over Metal’s head and let out a soft, melodic whistle—a sound so gentle and coaxing that Metal felt himself relax just hearing it.

Cuddles paused mid-flight, hovering in place as he tilted its head toward Fluttershy with a curious squeak. Snowflake flapped to a stop on a nearby perch, eyeing her warily.

Fluttershy smiled and extended a hoof, letting the light catch on the brass chain. “Here, little ones,” she said sweetly. “This one’s much shinier, and it’s just for you. Just give back the one you took and you can have it.”

Snowflake and Cuddles exchanged glances—an eerie, almost knowing look—before the bat finally dropped Metal’s chainmail tie. Metal just managed to catch it in his telekinesis before it hit the ground. “Oh, thank Celestia,” he muttered to himself in relief as a quick inspection revealed no damage to the accessory.

Snowflake swooped down to grab the brass bracelet from Fluttershy in his beak, landing on a low branch where Cuddles joined him to inspect their new prize. “There we go,” Fluttershy said kindly. “Now everycreature is happy.”

Metal exhaled, giving her a grateful look. “You’re really good at this,” he said, running a hoof over his face as he telekinetically buckled the toggle clasp of the necklace around his neck again. “I mean, I like animals, but that was something else.”

Fluttershy blushed slightly but smiled. “Oh, well… it’s what I do.”

Above them, Discord sniffled dramatically, dabbing his eyes with a hoofkerchief. “Oh, what a touching resolution! I must say, Metal, your little adventure has been highly entertaining.”

Metal shot him a tired, deadpan look, ears flicking back slightly. “Glad someone had fun,” he muttered, though there was an edge of dry humor in his tone.

“Oh, absolutely,” Discord said cheerfully. Then he grinned slyly. “Though I do believe Snowflake still has his eye on your tie.”

Metal blinked and glanced back to see Snowflake, still poring over the brass chain with Cuddles, peering at him mischievously. The raven lifted a wing in what looked suspiciously like a cheeky wave.

“…I’m going to have to keep an eye out for them, aren’t I?” he muttered under his breath.

Fluttershy giggled softly. “Only if they decide you’re part of their flock now.”

Metal wasn’t sure how to feel about that, though the thought of being claimed by the two mischievous creatures made his lips twitch toward a hesitant smile. Before he could fully process Fluttershy’s comment, Discord suddenly reappeared beside him in a puff of smoke, draping a claw over Metal’s withers.

“You know, Metal,” Discord said, stroking his beard with exaggerated thoughtfulness, “you handled that little escapade rather well… for a beginner.”

Metal’s ears flicked again, this time in mild annoyance. “Beginner?” he echoed cautiously.

“Oh, of course,” Discord continued with a wide grin. “That was clearly a test—a trial, if you will. And you barely tripped over yourself at all! Which means you’re perfectly suited for something much…grander.”

Metal frowned, glancing first at the draconequus and then at Fluttershy, who watched the exchange with a gently amused expression. “I can’t decide whether to be curious or terrified,” he said, shifting slightly farther away from Discord’s companionable touch.

“Both are entirely appropriate responses!” Discord declared, giving Metal a hearty clap on the back. “Come now, my new favorite chaos companion! Adventure awaits...next Thursday night!”

Fluttershy smiled knowingly. “You’re inviting him to your ‘Ogres & Oubliettes’ game, aren’t you?”

Metal’s ears perked up in spite of himself. “Wait…you play O&O?” he asked, looking up at Discord incredulously. He found it difficult to imagine the chaos spirit sitting at a table with a character sheet and a clawful of dice. It just felt too…normal.

“‘Do I play O&O?’ he asks,” Discord repeated, drawing himself up proudly. “My dear stallion, I bring O&O to life!” Suddenly, he was dressed in the soft greens and browns of a wilderness scout, bow in claw and quiver slung over his shoulder. The blond wig he wore, woven back into two long braids, looked the same as the one he had sported at the diner table, but somehow more dignified and noble. For some odd reason, his eagle talon now looked like a fully-mobile parsnip. “Am I to take from your reaction that you have some passing familiarity as well?”

“Um…I’ve played before,” Metal nodded hesitantly, still trying to square the contrasting images of Discord, the unpredictable demigod associated with one of his worst memories, with such a mundane hobby. “It’s been a few years.”

“Well, then, we shall have to remedy that!” Discord declared grandly, reaching into a small pouch on his belt and pulled out a scroll far too large for it. After a moment, Metal’s horn glowed, taking the scroll into his telekinesis and breaking the wax seal. As he unrolled it, trumpets popped out of the paper to play a fanfare in his face, causing him to wince and draw back slightly.

Once the trumpets vanished, the scroll looked fairly ordinary, other than the image of Discord dressed as a noble herald at the top, which moved and read the scroll aloud. “Hear ye, hear ye! The splendiferous land of Spiketopia seeks valiant and venturesome veterans to join its heroic heroes against the horrific hordes of the slimy Squizard!”

The Discord-illustration paused for dramatic effect, twirling its mustache before continuing. "Among the noble defenders of Spiketopia, you shall find none other than the wise and mysterious Garfunkle the Wizard, master of the arcane arts and purveyor of perplexing puzzles!” Another figure appeared on the scroll—a tiny caricature of a small purple dragon in a flowing dark-blue robe, pointed hat and long beard. He waved a glowing staff with a flourish that accidentally set his hat on fire, causing Discord’s illustration to yelp and pat it out before moving on.

“Beside him stands the mighty Sir McBiggen the Unicorn Warrior, whose stupendous strength is rivaled only by his noble heart and jawline of legend!” The scroll unfurled further to show a cartoon of an absurdly muscular red unicorn stallion in gleaming black plate armor, his horn aglow with battle magic as he smote a pile of cardboard-cutout skeletons with a mighty swing of his greatsword.

“And who could forget the incomparable Captain Wuzz, archer extraordinaire and master of the absurdly overcomplicated quint-shot?” The next illustration featured Discord’s avatar, decked out just as the being himself was in front of Metal Tested. The illustration loosed five arrows at once, each one spiraling into its target with improbable precision.

The scroll continued to unfurl, revealing the last caricature: a brightly-colored winged creature with sleek, chitin-like scales and camouflage patterns, perched atop a treasure chest and flipping a dagger between its talons with effortless flair. The illustration looked something like a hybrid between a griffon and a changeling.

“Last but not least, the daring, dazzling Slybright, rogue nonpareil!” the Discord illustration declared. “Her quirky and lovable charm is exceeded only by her knack for finding traps... and occasionally springing them anyway!” The rogue cartoon gave a cocky grin before tripping a wire and vanishing in a puff of smoke, only to reappear upside down on a branch with an exaggerated shrug.

The illustration-Discord turned toward Metal, pointing at him with a dramatic flourish. “And now, Spiketopia awaits you, oh valiant and valorous…I can’t think of another good V word, but that’s not the point! What say you? Will you rise to the occasion and forge your destiny... or will you let the Squizard's bony, undead horde rattle all over our glorious realm?”

Before Metal could answer, the scroll lit up with fireworks, spelling out in bold letters: "JOIN US FOR EPIC ADVENTURE! SNACKS PROVIDED!"

Metal dropped the scroll and took a few steps back, shaking his head as he tried to process the sensory overload. “Discord,” he heard Fluttershy say from just overhead, “what did I say earlier about overwhelming him?”

“I was just trying to give it a little pizzazz…” Discord objected, affecting a hurt tone.

“It…it’s okay,” Metal said, glancing up at the pair with a tentative smile. “I mean, the text was more or less like a lot of overblown O&O descriptions I’ve heard before, just…some of the special effects were a little much.”

“See? He likes it!” Discord said triumphantly to Fluttershy, then turned to Metal with an expectant grin. “So, what should I tell them you’ll be playing? Alchemist? Sorcerer? Monk? Cleric?”

Metal surprised himself by holding up a hoof. “I’ll make my own character, thanks,” he said. “But…yeah, I’ll give it a shot. I’ll have to get the books for the latest edition, though; I’ve heard Hoofbro added a lot of new species options.”

“Oooh, goodie!” Discord clapped his forelimbs with exaggerated enthusiasm. “I just knew our little group could do with a new chew toy–I mean, meat shield–I mean, fellow adventurer, of course!”

Fluttershy sighed and glided down to stand beside Metal, offering him a gentle, reassuring smile. “I think joining their game sounds like a wonderful idea,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “Discord loves to make things exciting, but don’t be afraid to let him know if it feels like too much.”

Discord gasped, clutching his chest in mock dismay. “Too much? Moi? Perish the thought!” He snapped his talons, conjuring an enormous banner behind him with "Totally Tame and Completely Reasonable" emblazoned across it. A marching band appeared and began playing an overly dramatic anthem, sending animals scattering away from the noise. Up on their perch, Metal noticed Snowflake the raven and Cuddles the bat covering their ears with their wings.

Fluttershy glanced at Metal with a knowing look. “See what I mean?” she murmured softly as Discord made the marching band vanish with another snap of his claws.

“I’ll…keep that in mind,” Metal nodded. His ears perked up as he heard the public clock tower give a single chime in the distance. “Wait…what time is it?” he asked, looking between Fluttershy and Discord in panic.

“Um…” Reaching under her wing, Fluttershy pulled out a pocket watch to consult. “Twelve-thirty. Why?”

“Oh, no! I’m going to be late!” Metal started galloping back toward the sanctuary entrance, only to come to a stumbling halt after only a few steps, turning to come back to Fluttershy. “Um…it was really nice meeting you, Fluttershy” he said quickly, but shyly. “And you, I guess, Discord.” Telekinetically pulling his Friendship Journal and a pen from his saddlebag, he offered them to Fluttershy. “Could I get an autograph before I go?”

Fluttershy giggled gently. “Rarity said you might ask us,” she said as she took the book in her hooves and grasped the pen between two of her feather-fingers. Writing a quick note to join Rarity’s and Pinkie Pie’s, she closed the book and offered it back. “Here you go.”

“Hey! Don’t you want an autograph from me?” Discord asked with an air of mock-offense.

“Um…” Metal hesitated, caught between his tardiness and his desire not to offend one of Rarity’s friends, even if Discord was much closer to Fluttershy. “Some other time,” he finally said, slipping his Friendship Journal back into his saddlebag. “I really need to get to work. Thank you, Fluttershy!” With that, he turned and galloped toward the sanctuary entrance once more, being careful to avoid disturbing the animals any more than he had to.

“Well!” Discord gave a stretch, then slipped a forelimb around Fluttershy’s shoulders and gave her a mischievous grin as they watched Metal vanish into the distance. “He seems like he’ll be loads of fun!”

Fluttershy sighed indulgently, gently nuzzling her head against Discord’s shoulder. “I like him, too,” she said. “Just be nice to him, okay? Rarity said he has trouble with social situations.”

“He seemed to do well enough just now, aside from freezing up a moment when I first introduced myself,” Discord commented, stroking his beard. “I’ll try not to break him TOO badly, though.”

“Thank you,” Fluttershy nodded; she knew this was the best promise she was likely to get from Discord. Glancing down at her poodle skirt, she smoothed it down. “Now, if you don’t mind, I really do need to get back to feeding the animals, and these clothes aren’t exactly practical for it.”

“Oh, very well,” Discord said, snapping his claws and making the outfit vanish back into the ether while Fluttershy’s basket of food reappeared. “I must say, though, you looked adorable like that.”

“Thank you, Discord,” Fluttershy favored him with a warm, sweet smile. She fluttered up to give him a quick peck on the cheek, then dropped back to the ground and walked toward a stand of trees where some hungry orangutans awaited their lunch.

Author's Note

Whew! This one ended up taking a lot longer (and BEING a lot longer) than I expected. I'm happy with how it turned out, though, and I hope you are, too!

The chase music Discord summons from nowhere is, of course, "Yakety Sax", otherwise popularly known as the Benny Hill theme, as used before in FIM. For example:

Somnambulan bats are based on Egyptian fruit bats, drawing on the Egyptian-style conceit of Somnambula's character and the fact that at least one town in the show is shown to be named after her. Also, they're adorable.

Ravens, of course, are awesome.

As always, comments and upvotes are most appreciated!