“What are Cutie Marks?”
“They’re the embodiment of destiny, the symbols of who we are, who we should aspire to be.”
Moondancer, standing at a podium in front of a presentation, holding a clicker with her magic.
“A pony is conventionally defined by their cutie mark: their career, what makes them happy, in some cases, even their names! As long as we’ve had cutie marks, ponykind has believed that cutiemarks are predetermined. That, one day, a pony will find what they were destined to do. What they were always destined to do! Or, maybe what you’re just talented at doing. The details of that are a topic for another scholar.”
She walked back and forth, as if waiting for a question from the crowd; or perhaps just for effect?
“There’s some correlation between cutie marks and source of magic. When unicorns gain theirs, they gain some affinity with a branch of magic; or something related to it.”
She pointed the clicker at the presentation, changing the image to show various ponies and their cutie marks.
“But what if this is wrong? What if there is no pre-determined cutie mark or talent, what if it really depends on life experiences? Nurture over nature, as it were. Cutie marks an illusive field; thousands of theses, theories, hypothesis, and such have been done in the name of understanding them. Cutie Marks are an unprecedented field, and yet we live our every day lives as if we know them half as well as we do any other given subject.”
Another click, and the presentation shifted to a pool within a cave. Sparking with life and magic, surrounded by plants the common pony has never seen.
“This is an anomalous magic item known only as ‘The Mirror Pool’, though some records have referred to it as ‘The Mirror Pond’. It is one of many speculated irregularities within The Everfree Forest, however this one has been encountered by the element bearers and locked off by Princess Twilight Sparkle. With her permission, temporary access could be allowed. The purpose of which? The Mirror Pool is capable of perfectly cloning any individual pony that’s capable of speaking the rhyme.”
Another click, and there was an open book on the presentation. Showing a poem, the trigger necessary for activating the mirror.
“If a blank flank was to be cloned, and then raised differently from the original, then we can test and prove conclusively whether or not cutie marks are pre-determined.”
A final click, and the presentation was over.
Moondancer sat on her podium, hovering the clicker to the ground beside her as she stared out to her audience. Adjusting her glasses and the few stray bangs that attempted to obscure her face, a single bead of sweat rolling down the side of her face.
Hmm, presentation could use work.
Her ‘audience’ was one mare. While that would be comforting, she just so happens to be one of the most important mares in Equestria.
Twilight Sparkle, The Princess of Friendship.
Holding a clipboard and pencil in her magic, writing down something without even having to look.
“Your thesis has merit, but there’s a variety of holes that could be poked into it.” She sat the clipboard down, holding up a particularly thick pile of papers as she organized them. “In your ‘I know what could go wrong’ section, you answer many of these that come to mind. ‘What if the clone can’t have a cutie mark’, ‘what if the clone degrades’, ‘what if the clone becomes aware of the experiment’, all of these scenarios you’ve elaborated on in impressive detail; though I have a few notes.”
She wrote down a few scribbles, then placed it in the chair beside her.
“Though, I must add, you do not acknowledge the intelligence gap between the original and the clones. That is quite a significant variable not to account for.”
“Ah! That’s because it is either a quasi-variable, or one that doesn’t exist in the first place.” Moondancer’s eyes lit up, she floated off her eyeglasses and wiped them, stepping off the stage. “Based on what we know about it, I don’t think the pool was ever meant to clone its own clones. I strongly believe that, as long as only the original is cloned, the clone should retain a similar level of sapience as the original.”
“Hmm.” Twilight looked over the papers again, furrowing her eyebrows as she read through them at a startling pace. “And if you’re wrong? If the clones turn out that way regardless?”
“That is why I requested not to be provided any grants or funds of any kind until after the cloning is successful and the grace period, so very little time or resources are wasted on the endeavor.”
“And I suppose, if it turns out I am correct, then you expect me to ‘dispose’ of it?”
“No, I could not ask that of you. I would prefer it if you taught me the spell so I can handle it myself.”
“I see.” She held up a specific piece of paper, peering at it with a noticeable scrutiny. “As a friend, I promised you the chance to at least present your research to me. As a Princess, I can’t pass it as is. You need to address every single one of my notes, which will require a complete revision of the second half of your thesis.”
“Ok, I can do that.”
“I would hope so.” Twilight stood up from her seat, taking a deep breath and offering the collection of paper to Moondancer. “While you’re at it, perhaps redo your presentation? Currently, it addresses the points you want it to, but it's quite,” she hesitated, tapping a pencil against the ground in her magic. “Bland. Adding some color or symbols or even some font changes can entice ponies in a way you might not expect.”
“But,” A tinge of excitement rose up in her voice, her hooves pressing together as he prodded at her sweater. “You think I’m good enough to be presented to the IRB?”
“Moondancer,” Twilight chuckled, her wings flexing as she stretched. “If I thought you weren’t good enough for the institutional review board, I wouldn’t have agreed to come here in the first place.”
She couldn’t help but blush, bringing a hoof to her chest and rubbing it awkwardly while she cleared her throat.
“Twilight, thank you, really. If it wasn’t for you, my paper would have never gotten off the ground.”
“Don’t say that, we went to the same school. You’re just as capable as I am.”
“And yet only one of us is a princess.”
Twilight frowned, closing her mouth and quickly as she opened it.
“Please, don’t downplay yourself like that; we’ve talked about this.”
“I know, I know.” Moondancer tapped a hoof against the ground, chewing on her lower lip. “I can do all of this in a month or so; would that be enough time?”
“More than enough.”
Royal guards, which were spread out in pairs, kept to their posts and looked for invisible threats. She understood why she needed them, this was The Everfree Forest after all. However, thanks to Pinkie, they were able to get through it relatively unharmed.
The Mirror Pool.
As gorgeous as it was unknown.
Moondancer stared at her reflection in the pool, placing a tentative hoof on the surface as the ripples spread out. At first glance, it was like any other pool; so clean she could see into the bottom. No fish, no rocks, just raw water.
She’d gathered so much data on it from folkstories and guesswork, memorized the rhyme, and interviewed Pinkie on one occasion for what that was worth. Encountering it in person, seeing it sparkle, made all of her dictionaries feel blank. Not a single adjective came to mind, no descriptors felt appropriate.
It was, for lack of a better word, ‘magical’.
“Mrs. Moondancer, the foal is here.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Two of the guards were standing on either side of a foal, who had a blindfold around their face. They were guided to the front of the pool, surprisingly still and unafraid. Their hooves didn’t shake, their face was blank, it was hard to read any emotion at all.
For a pony so young, it was quite impressive. She must have had a lot of faith in Twilight and her guards.
“Ok, everything should be in place.” Moondancer’s horn lit up, retrieving a single piece of paper from her saddlebag. “Guards, please step away from the subject.”
Cold, not cruel.
They nodded, walking back towards the entrance where they took their posts.
“Hello?” She spoke without a tremble, confidently tilting her head in the direction of Moondancer’s voice. “Are you the science lady?”
“I am, yes. Follow my instructions to the letter, and we’ll have you home within the hour.”
They hung their head, scratching their hoof against the dirt. “Okay.”
“Repeat after me:” Moondancer cleared her throat, adjusting her glasses. “And into her reflection she stared, yearning for one whose reflection she shared.”
Moondancer glanced at the pool, expecting some kind of shift in the pool or any kind of sign that something had started taking place. Of course, nothing did.
“And solemnly sweared not to be scared, at the prospect of being doubly mared.”
The filly followed the instruction to the word, guided entirely by Moondancer.
“You no longer need to repeat after me. Now, walk forward.”
They listened, walking into the pool and descending like it was a flight of stairs. Moondancer watched intently, hoping to see the exact moment the pool worked its magic. For a second, it glistened, ripples spreading out and vibrating in place before suddenly stopping.
And from the front of it, came the foal, then the second.
The second one pulled the first one out, their hooves touching for a few passing seconds. The second one had a blindfold just like the first, which answered one of many questions.
“Guards, please take the foal away.”
“Uhm,” two of the nearest guards walked forward, exchanging a brief look. “Which one?”
Moondancer placed the paper back in her saddlebag, pointing her hoof at the foal that just came out of pool. There was this slightest tinge of uncertainty that she’d pick the wrong one and accidentally take home the original, but she’d kept a close eye on the movements of both of them, and only the original was slightly wet.
“That one.”
“Yes Moondancer.”
They didn’t acknowledge her request, escorting the foal out of the cave.
Other than a few guards for safety, it was just Moondancer and the clone.
Now was the dealbreaker.
“Script?”
It flinched, turning in the direction of the voice.
“Hello? Is that my name?”
No memory, good.
“Yes. Now, please take off your blindfold.”
“Is that what that is?”
They took off their blindfold with little trouble, using their magic as second nature.
“Yes. I have a task for you.”
Moondancer checked a few things on the list, using her magic to simultaneously grab something from the saddlebag and hovered it to the clone.
“Solve this rubix cube as quickly as you can.”
“Rubix cube?”
They held it in their hooves, furrowing their eyebrows and glancing at it from different angles.
“Yes, match the color on each side. With your magic, preferably.”
“Oh, ok.”
She closed her eyes, counting the seconds as they passed by. Listening to each click of the cube, the occasional grunt of frustration, and waited patiently.
“Done.”
Two hours and thirty three minutes. Down to the second, huh?
Moondancer took the cube, double checking that each side matched.
“A little faster than average. Alright, good.”
There was a rumbling noise, amplified by the lack of any other sound in the cave.
“Uhm, Miss, Can—”
“Don’t call me Miss.”
“Sorry. Can we get something to eat? I’m hungry.”
Moondancer placed the cube back in the saddlebag, getting instead a small watch.
Interesting, this is the same time the original would be eating lunch.
“Sure, we can pick something up on the way to Canterlot.”
“Canterlot?” They followed Moondancer, who had closed her saddlebag and started making her way out of the cave. “What’s that?”
The guards waiting outside escorted them back, taking the same path they had come in.
“Your home.”
