Applied Mathemagics

Morning comes too soon. The soft glow of the floating orbs in my room dims as I roll over, staring at the blank white "window" on my wall. It never shows the outside world, just an endless glow that never wavers, never changes. Honestly, it's the most reliable thing in my life.

I groan, sitting up and stretching until my back cracks. Today’s the big day—Sweetie Belle’s talent show. I should be excited, but I can already feel the weight of everything hanging over me. Rarity’s strange behavior, Twilight’s scheming, Celestia’s ever-watchful gaze, it’s a lot to juggle for one stallion.

Still, Sweetie Belle would be heartbroken if I bailed, and I’m not a monster. A liar, sure. A con artist? Absolutely. But not a monster. Most days.

I sigh, forcing myself out of bed. At least I don’t have to worry about an empty pantry anymore—Twilight made sure of that. My house is now suspiciously well-stocked, like she’s trying to domesticate a wild animal. Which, given how she looks at me sometimes, is probably accurate.

I throw together a quick breakfast that isn’t just hay out of sheer defiance, wash up, and step outside. The town is already buzzing with activity. Ponies are setting up decorations, foals are running around in excited chaos, and in the center of it all stands the talent show stage—a rickety wooden platform that looks like it was hammered together by enthusiastic, but under-skilled, hooves.

I’m halfway to the stage when I hear a frantic voice.

“Kinetic! Kinetic! We need help!”

Sweetie Belle barrels toward me, her tiny legs moving faster than I thought possible. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo are right behind her, all three looking equally panicked.

“What did you three do?” I ask, because I know that look. That’s the we did something really ambitious and now it’s a disaster look.

Sweetie Belle skids to a stop in front of me, her hooves kicking up dust. “It’s the runes! The ones you told us about!”

My brain slams the brakes. “...The what now?”

Apple Bloom bounces on her hooves, talking a mile a minute. “The rune magic! You said non-unicorns use symbols for spells, so we thought if we used ‘em, we could make our red cart float for the talent show!”

Scootaloo spreads her wings, beaming with pride. “It’s gonna be awesome! A floating stunt cart! We spent hours drawing the runes just like you said!”

I stare at them. My brain scrambles. I told them about runes? Oh. Oh, no. I did do that.

It was supposed to be a distraction! They had been pestering me about learning magic, and I figured rune theory would bore them into submission. Turns out, I vastly underestimated the Cutie Mark Crusaders' determination to cause problems.

Sweetie Belle tugs at my leg. “But it’s not working! The cart isn’t floating, and the runes look... weird.”

I glance toward the stage and spot their little red cart parked off to the side. Sure enough, the wood is covered in chalked-in symbols—an absolute mess of lines, spirals, and glyphs, all blending together in what I can only describe as a crime against symmetry.

Oh. This is bad.

“Okay,” I say, adjusting my nonexistent wizard hat. “Let’s take a look. Show me the book and what you've got.”

I have no idea how to fix this. But I sure as hell have to act like I do.

Sweetie Belle floats a book up to me, her magic shimmering with that soft, pale green hue. I take it, flipping to the page where they got their rune pattern.

And, wow, this is awful.

The diagram in the book is absurdly complicated—dense interwoven shapes, tiny precise angles, and ridiculous spacing requirements. No wonder their chalk version looks like a disaster. If my guesstimates are correct, even if they copied it perfectly, a hoof drawing just isn’t precise enough to handle something like this. And precision is probably important when it comes to rune magic.

I nod sagely, pretending to study it while my brain frantically scrambles for a way out. I know nothing about rune magic. But I do know physics, and I do know how Sweetie Belle thinks.

I tap the page. “Alright, here’s the issue. The runes aren’t being drawn clearly enough. This kind of magic needs perfect precision—as clearly as you can see it in your mind, that’s how clearly it needs to be on the material.” I say, making a lot of assumptions.

Apple Bloom frowns. “But we copied it exactly!”

Scootaloo squints at the mess on the cart. “...More or less.”

I shake my head. “Nah, a hoof drawing's not gonna cut it. Too smudgy, too loose. You need something way sharper, way more exact.” I pause, exhaling through my nose. “Which means… we’re going to have to carve it in.”

Sweetie Belle blinks. “But how? I don’t have a knife!”

I smirk. “Sweetie, you don’t need a knife. You’ve got something way better—telekinesis.”

Her ears perk up. “Wait… but how am I supposed to use that to carve something?”

I sigh, rubbing the bridge of my muzzle. I really, really don’t want to teach her this. But at this point, I have no choice. Well, I do, but I don't want to learn rune magic to teach it to her so...

“Alright, listen up,” I say, crouching to her level. “You remember when I taught you about atoms, right? That everything’s made up of teeny-tiny particles?”

She nods rapidly. “Yeah! And they stick together because of those… uh… forces?”

“Exactly,” I say, snapping a hoof in approval. “Those forces are what hold solid objects together. But what if we temporarily weakened those forces in a very, very specific spot?”

Her eyes widen. “Then… I could move those atoms apart!”

“Bingo,” I say, pointing at her. “And if you do it in the shape of the rune, you’re not drawing it—you’re imprinting it directly into the material. No chalk, no smudging. Just pure, flawless perfection.”

She gasps. “That’s so cool! I wanna try!”

The other two, however, don’t look so thrilled.

Scootaloo scowls. “Great. So the unicorn gets to be the only one who’s good at non-unicorn magic.”

Apple Bloom crosses her hooves. “Ain’t this kinda against the whole ‘earth ponies and pegasi can do magic too’ thing?”

I shrug. “Hey, don’t blame me. Blame reality. Some stuff’s just easier with certain tools. I mean, you wouldn’t complain if a pegasus used their wings instead of their hooves to do something fancy, right?”

Apple Bloom opens her mouth, then shuts it. Scootaloo just grumbles.

I turn back to Sweetie Belle, tapping the cart for emphasis. "Alright, so here’s how this works. The reason solid objects stay together is because of a bunch of forces at the atomic level. The main one keeping everything in place is called intergranular force. That’s just a fancy way of saying that atoms in a solid stick together because of their grain structure, like how puzzle pieces fit together."

Sweetie nods quickly. "Right! Like how the wood is made up of tiny bits that are all holding onto each other!"

"Exactly. But that’s not the only thing keeping it solid. You’ve also got van der Waals forces, which are weaker interactions between molecules, and electrostatic attraction, which is how negatively charged electrons keep atoms bound to positively charged nuclei. That’s what gives a material its shape and structure. You mess with those? You can separate things down to their finest layers."

Her eyes light up. "So I have to push apart the atoms just a tiny bit to carve it?"

"More like slip them apart," I correct. "If you just force them, the whole structure might fracture. But if you focus your magic on reducing the intergranular cohesion just in the exact shape of the rune, the material will part as cleanly as if you cut it with a razor."

She closes her eyes, horn sparking as she concentrates. I step back, mostly so I don’t get blamed if this goes wrong.

At first, nothing happens. Then, slowly, the chaotic chalk mess on the cart starts to vanish, replaced by thin, delicate carvings that sink into the wood like something was peeling it away, layer by layer. Every swirl, every line, every intricate detail from the book takes shape exactly as intended.

I blink.

Huh. That actually worked.

Sweetie Belle gasps, opening her eyes. "I did it!"

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo peer at the runes, both impressed and vaguely annoyed.

Scootaloo sighs. "Great. Now Sweetie gets magic, and non-magic."

Apple Bloom rubs her chin. "Ah mean, at least it's our idea? So it's still kinda our thing?"

I clap my hooves together. "Fantastic work, girls. Now, let’s—"

"Cutie Mark Crusaders, you’re up next!" a voice calls from the stage.

All three of them freeze.

Sweetie Belle panics. "Oh no! We don’t even know if it works!"

I sigh. "Well, you’re about to find out."

I make a swift, tactical retreat to my seat, settling in among the other ponies as the Crusaders rush onto the stage with their cart. The audience murmurs in curiosity, clearly unsure what to expect.

On stage, Apple Bloom steps forward, puffing out her chest with confidence. “Fillies and gentlecolts, get ready to witness the future of travel! The Cutie Mark Crusaders present to you…” She gestures dramatically to the cart. “The first-ever self-propelled, rune-powered, flying stunt cart!”

Scootaloo spreads her wings. “With our revolutionary new magical system, this cart will take flight, soaring through the air with complete control!”

Sweetie Belle beams. “And it’s all thanks to advanced rune magic!”

I resist the urge to put my head in my hooves. The audience gasps in amazement, but I can already feel Twilight’s skeptical gaze boring into my skull from across the seats.

Oh yeah, she’s definitely adding this to the ‘Kinetic Flux is hiding something’ file.

Rarity looks somewhat impressed—though mostly concerned—as she watches Sweetie take center stage. Meanwhile, Rainbow Dash looks way too interested in a possible new extreme sport.

Apple Bloom gestures for Sweetie Belle to take her place in the cart. “And now, we’ll show ya how it works!”

The three of them clamber inside, and Sweetie Belle’s horn lights up. The rune carvings glow with a soft, eerie shimmer, spreading from one symbol to the next.

The crowd collectively leans forward.

The cart lifts.

Ponies gasp.

The Crusaders cheer.

Oh, good, it actually works, I think, allowing myself to breathe.

Then it keeps going.

And going.

And going.

My relief morphs into a sharp, cold realization. Oh, no. Oh, no no no no no.

The Crusaders’ excited expressions begin to shift into something more nervous as the cart rises past the roof of the stage.

Scootaloo glances down. “Uh… Sweetie?”

Sweetie Belle’s smile tightens. “I-I think it’s working a little too well.”

The cart drifts higher.

Apple Bloom tugs on the sides. “Maybe turn it down?”

Sweetie Belle's horn flickers. “I don’t know how to turn it down!”

By now, the audience is craning their necks to follow the ascending cart. Pegasi in the crowd start spreading their wings, muttering to each other.

I sink lower in my seat.

I really should have asked what those runes actually did.

Rainbow Dash is the first to react, shooting into the air. “I got ‘em!” She speeds toward the cart, reaching out to grab it—

And then gets yanked upward as the cart keeps going.

A second pegasus grabs onto Rainbow.

A third grabs onto them.

Now there's a full-blown chain of pegasi getting pulled into the sky like some kind of bizarre balloon accident.

I close my eyes, exhale sharply, and mumble under my breath. “I am not responsible for this. I am not responsible for this. I am not—”

Twilight is already flipping through her spellbook at an alarming speed.

Rarity looks one second away from fainting.

Ponies in the audience are starting to panic.

I should probably do something.

…Or I could just keep sitting here and pretend this is all part of the show.

I glance back up at the cart, which is now well past the treetops.

Yeah. No. Definitely need to do something.

I get up with a sigh. “Alright. Let’s fix this before they reach orbit.”

I take a deep breath and settle back into my seat, trying to look very casual as I watch the chaos unfold. The Crusaders are way too high now, and the pegasi chain is struggling to pull them back down. If I don’t do something, we’re about to have Ponyville’s first unplanned space program.

I could try to play it off, wait for Twilight to do some fancy spellwork, but that would take time, and I have no idea how much higher they’re going to go. No, I need to end this now—and I need to do it without making it obvious.

I can’t see the rune itself anymore, but I do know exactly where it is.

I focus, feeling out the cart’s shape in my mind. The rune should be carved right into the wood beneath them, somewhere on the bottom panel. I don’t need to destroy the whole thing—just enough to break the pattern. A small cut, right through the base.

I let my magic reach out, thin and controlled. The same technique I taught Sweetie Belle, applied from a distance. Instead of forcing the cut, I nudge the atoms apart, slipping them out of alignment in a precise, almost surgical motion.

The wood gives way.

A tiny hole, no bigger than a bit, opens in the bottom of the cart.

And just like that, the rune’s pattern is broken.

The glow flickers out in an instant.

The cart stops.

Gravity remembers it exists.

A split second later, the pegasi yank it down.

Rainbow Dash and the others struggle to keep it level as they guide it back to the stage. The Crusaders, still gripping the sides for dear life, look thoroughly shaken but otherwise unharmed.

The audience erupts into wild applause, cheering at what they clearly think was part of the act.

I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and slump back into my seat, making sure to keep my expression neutral.

The Crusaders step out of the cart, still wobbling but beaming at the applause.

I just shake my head.

I really need to start asking more questions before I help them next time.

Once the excitement dies down and everypony stops talking about the "incredible aerial performance" that nearly sent three fillies into low orbit, I find myself sitting in my seat, bored out of my mind. The talent show continues, but let’s be real—after a flying stunt cart, a filly juggling torches just doesn’t have the same energy. The show ends and the ponies start to disperse.

I glance around for anything interesting. Nothing.

I could go home, but then I'd still have to find something to do. There's no internet here, so its rather boring to stay inside.

Or…

A slow grin spreads across my face.

I could mess with Twilight.

Yeah. That sounds way more fun.

With my new objective set, I stand, stretch lazily, and start making my way toward Golden Oak Library. Ponies are still caught up in the aftermath of the talent show, so no one really notices me slipping away. Twilight probably hasn’t left yet, but that just makes it better—walking into her space when she’s not there, touching her things? That’s an instant way to get a reaction.

I push open the library door without knocking—because why would I knock? It’s a library. She’d argue otherwise, but public buildings are public buildings.

Inside, it’s quiet. Peaceful. The shelves are packed with books, everything neat and organized, just how she likes it.

I hate it.

Not because I have anything against books—knowledge is power, after all—but because it's too orderly. I can already picture Twilight’s little checklists, her meticulously categorized sorting system, the way she probably has a list of books organized by how often they’re borrowed. A far cry from the original honor system. I still haven't returned The Fundamentals of Unicorn Magic or Practical Spells for Beginners.

I grin. Time to introduce an element of 'fun' to the sorting.

I casually walk over to the nearest shelf, pick a random book, and slide it one slot over.

Then I take another and put it back upside down.

Then I find a third, flip to a random page, and dog-ear it.

I’m barely two minutes into this masterpiece of subtle destruction when I hear the door creak open behind me.

I don’t even turn around before she speaks.

“Kinetic,” Twilight says, voice already full of exasperation. “What are you doing?”

I plaster on my most innocent expression and turn to face her. “Oh, hey, Twilight. Just catching up on some reading.”

Her eyes narrow immediately. “You never come here to read.”

I gasp, placing a hoof on my chest like she just insulted my very soul. “That hurts, Twilight. I am deeply offended by that accusation.”

She marches past me and immediately spots the upside-down book. Her eye twitches.

My grin widens.

“You—” she growls, yanking it off the shelf. “You did this on purpose!”

“Twilight, please,” I say, shaking my head. “You can’t just go around accusing ponies without evidence.”

She points to the shelf. “This book is upside down!”

“Maybe it likes being upside down.”

“And this one is in the wrong spot!”

It's honestly surprising how she finds each change so quickly.

“Maybe it was tired of being next to the same books all the time.”

“And this one has a folded page—” She stops mid-sentence, sucking in a sharp breath like I just personally attacked her.

I lean in slightly. “You okay there, Sparkle?”

She takes a deep breath, eyes closed, visibly trying to center herself. When she finally speaks, it’s slow and measured. “Why are you actually here?”

I shrug, leaning against a shelf like I own the place. "Just visiting my favorite purple unicorn."

Twilight stares at me, deadpan. "You are definitely just here to mess with me."

I grin. "Can't it be both?"

She groans, rubbing her temples. "You don’t live here, Kinetic. You can’t just barge in whenever you feel like it."

I tilt my head. "Oh? So you can just waltz into my house, tell me how to eat, make me buy things, and criticize my perfectly functional lifestyle, but when I show up uninvited, it's a problem?"

She sputters. "That—That’s different!"

"Not really."

"It is absolutely different!"

"How?"

"Because—because I was helping you!" she snaps, pointing a hoof at me. "You would starve if I didn’t intervene!"

I wave a hoof dismissively. "Details, details."

She glares at me, eyes twitching, clearly debating if I’m worth the headache. Of course, the answer is always yes.

Before she can lecture me further, the library door swings open again, and three energetic fillies tumble inside.

"Twilight!" Sweetie Belle shouts. "We wanna hear how you got your cutie mark!"

Apple Bloom bounces up beside her. "Yeah! Ya got it from magic, right? Did ya make somethin’ explode?"

Scootaloo’s wings buzz. "Was it a huge explosion? Please tell me it was!"

Twilight immediately shifts gears, her face brightening as she steps into teacher mode. "Oh! Well, actually, it’s a pretty interesting story—"

I see my chance. As she tells her story I take a step back, then another, inching toward the door before anyone notices.

Sweetie Belle whirls around. "Wait! What about you, Kinetic? How'd you get your cutie mark?"

I freeze.

Twilight smirks. "Yes, Kinetic, why don’t you tell us how you got your cutie mark?"

I turn slowly. "Y’know, I’d love to, but I just remembered—uh, I left my stove on. In my—uh—H.A.R.D.I.S. Which I should definitely check on. So, you all have fun—"

I take another step toward the door.

Twilight’s horn glows.

I feel my tail get yanked.

I flail dramatically, dragged back into place. "This is assault, Sparkle."

She rolls her eyes. "You are not getting out of this. Sit down and tell the girls your cutie mark story."

I groan but comply, mostly because she still has a magical grip on my tail, and I’d rather keep it attached to my body.

The Cutie Mark Crusaders sit eagerly in front of me, eyes wide and full of expectation. Twilight watches with her usual mix of amusement and suspicion. Sweetie Belle, though—she is the problem. She knows too much. I’m going to have to be careful.

I clear my throat. "Alright, fine. It all started when I was just a colt, attending my entrance exam for Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns."

Twilight’s expression shifts from smug satisfaction to confusion. "That’s—"

"—where I was asked to hatch a dragon egg," I continue smoothly, watching her eyes narrow. "I focused my magic, but nothing happened at first! And then—BOOM! A huge explosion of magic burst out of me, and suddenly I was floating, my eyes glowing, books flying everywhere—"

Twilight scowls. "That’s my cutie mark story."

I gasp, placing a hoof on my chest. "It is? Oh no! What a crazy coincidence!"

She levels a glare at me, deadpan. "Tell. The real. Story."

I sigh, dramatically throwing myself onto the floor like this is the greatest injustice of my life. "Fine, fine, I guess I’ll tell you the real story."

I sit back up, clearing my throat again. "So there I was, deep in the jungles of Equestria, searching for the lost Tome of Eternal Arcana."

Scootaloo leans forward. "That sounds way cooler."

Twilight groans. "Oh, come on."

I ignore her. "I had been traveling for days, my supplies running low. The path was treacherous, filled with traps and puzzles designed to keep unworthy seekers away. But I wasn’t just any unicorn—I was determined. And as I reached the final chamber, I saw it—a pedestal holding the tome, surrounded by enchanted flames!"

Apple Bloom gasps. "Then what happened?"

I smirk. "I stepped forward, ready to claim my prize—but then the floor crumbled beneath me! I fell into an underground cavern, where I was met with a mystical guardian, a creature of pure magic, protecting the knowledge of ages."

Twilight rubs her temples. "None of this happened."

"It challenged me to a duel," I say, ignoring her entirely. "Not with magic, but with wits. It posed a series of riddles, each more difficult than the last. I had to think fast, using my knowledge of ancient magic and powerful spells to outsmart it."

Sweetie Belle frowns. "But—"

I panic. Before she can say anything, I casually place a hoof over her mouth. "Sweetie, please, I'm telling a story. Anyway, after answering the final riddle, the guardian granted me access to the tome. The moment I opened it, power surged through me! The secrets of the universe flooded my mind! And at that exact moment—" I dramatically gesture at my flank. "Boom. Cutie mark."

Scootaloo’s wings buzz excitedly. "That is so much better than a boring school exam!"

Apple Bloom nods. "Ah bet that means yer special talent is ancient magic!"

"Exactly," I say quickly. "Super rare, super mysterious magic. Definitely not anything else. Nope."

Sweetie Belle finally pries my hoof off her mouth. "But I thought—"

"Shhh, I know it was an intense story, and you're overcome with emotion, there's no need to speak. I understand," I say convincingly.

Twilight squints at me, eyes full of suspicion. "That is the least believable story I’ve ever heard."

I gasp. "Twilight! You wound me."

"You did not get your cutie mark by battling a guardian of pure magic."

"You don’t know that."

"Yes, I do."

The Crusaders, however, seem less concerned about truth and more about the sheer cool factor of the story.

Scootaloo nudges Apple Bloom. "Do you think we can find a guardian of magic and challenge it to a duel?"

Twilight immediately shakes her head. "Absolutely not."

Apple Bloom sighs. "Aww."

I stand up, stretching. "Well, this has been fun, but I think that’s enough fairy—er, recalling for one day."

Twilight huffs. "I will find out the truth eventually, you know."

I grin, already backing toward the door. "Sure, Twilight. Good luck with that."

I make a smooth exit before she can grab my tail again. Sweetie Belle is still staring at me like she wants to say something, but thankfully, she’s too polite to blurt it out in front of Twilight.

I’ll have to deal with that later.

For now, though? Mission accomplished.

I hum to myself as I trot back toward the H.A.R.D.I.S., feeling pretty satisfied with how today turned out. Sure, the Cutie Mark Crusaders nearly achieved low orbit, Twilight almost caught me in a lie, and Sweetie Belle is one awkward conversation away from blowing my cover—but overall? A solid day.

As I reach my door, I spot the little mailbox in front of my house. I never really check it since most ponies in Ponyville deliver messages in person, but every now and then, something official comes through.

I pull out the envelope and immediately notice the royal wax seal.

My ears perk up. This is it.

I rip it open, and the first thing that falls out is a crisp, gold-trimmed Letter of Credit—1000 bits, straight from the crown. My grin stretches from ear to ear.

"Finally!" I shout, punching the air.

I’ve been waiting for this forever. Ever since Celestia gave me the title of Archmage, there had been a lot of talk about getting proper benefits—an official stipend, access to research materials, and, most importantly, money.

And here it is. 1000 bits. Enough to actually buy things without Twilight dragging me around like a lost foal.

I dig into the envelope again and pull out something small and metallic. It glints in the light—a badge, etched with the royal sun emblem and the words Archmage of Equestria.

I flip it over, and there’s my name, engraved in fancy script.

It’s official.

I actually have ID now.

No more "Sir, you need proper documentation," or "Are you sure you're an Archmage?" or "We can't verify your identity, we need confirmation from the Princess."

I hold it up, marveling at it. This little piece of metal is the key to so many future scams—I mean, legitimate professional opportunities.

I shove both the badge and the Letter of Credit into my saddlebags, resisting the urge to do a victory dance.

I step inside my H.A.R.D.I.S., close the door, and lean against it, sighing in pure contentment.

1000 bits. A royal stipend. Official ID.

Everything is finally coming together.

I toss myself onto my bed, staring at the ceiling, still grinning like an idiot.

For once, everything is going right.

With that thought, I drift off to sleep.

Morning comes too fast, but for once, I wake up in a good mood.

Not because I’m well-rested—Celestia forbid—but because today’s the Grand Galloping Gala.

A night of fancy ponies, absurd wealth, and absolutely no expectations that I’ll behave.

I stretch, rolling out of bed, and throw on my trusty, questionably tailored suit. It’s not great—Twilight made me buy it during her "Let's make Kinetic a proper pony" intervention—but it does the job. It’s dark, slightly wrinkled, and technically fits, which is all I care about.

I grab my saddlebags, making sure my very real Archmage ID is safely tucked inside, then step outside.

I’m halfway to the train station when I stop and actually look at the train.

It’s sleek, polished, and—okay, this thing is definitely not coal-powered.

But it should be. The design is throwing me off—there are no visible exhaust vents, no proper firebox, and the wheels are weirdly proportioned. It’s like someone wanted it to look like a steam engine but skipped the actual engineering part.

I squint at it, running through mental calculations, and conclude that I have no idea how this thing works.

It bothers me.

A lot.

But not enough to actually ask.

I walk up to the ticket booth and slap down some bits, still reveling in my financial security.

"One ticket to Canterlot," I say with a smug grin, because for once, I can actually afford things.

The mare behind the counter gives me a look before sliding the ticket over.

I step onto the platform just as the rest of the girls arrive. They all have dresses on.

Rarity, of course, is immaculate, dressed in something probably hoof-stitched with imported silk. Twilight is trying way too hard to keep herself composed. Applejack’s carrying a cartload of apple goods, looking like she’s about to start a street stall inside the castle. Fluttershy is practically vibrating with excitement, and Pinkie is… well, Pinkie.

Rainbow Dash flutters above them, already bragging about Wonderbolt connections she absolutely does not have.

I nod at them, casually stepping onto the train like I do this every day. "Ladies."

Twilight sighs. "Please try to behave tonight, Kinetic."

I smirk. "Oh, I absolutely will try."

She groans, already regretting everything.

The train whistle blows, and I find a seat near the window, watching as the station drifts away.

Canterlot, here we come.

This is going to be fun.

I settle into my seat, propping my head against the window as the train glides smoothly along the tracks. The scenery outside blurs past—rolling hills, thick forests, the occasional farm. It’s nice, peaceful.

And for once, I do absolutely nothing.

I don’t poke Twilight about her obsessive note-taking. I don’t make sarcastic comments about the Gala. I don’t even nudge Rarity about whatever ridiculous expectations she has for the night.

I just sit there. Silent. Minding my own business.

The reaction is immediate.

Twilight, seated across from me, flips through a book, but every so often, she glances up, her ears twitching. At first, it’s just casual curiosity.

Then she glances again.

And again.

She shifts in her seat, turning the page of her book way too fast to have actually read anything. Her quill—because of course she brought a quill and parchment—hovers in her magic, completely untouched.

I keep my face neutral, gazing out the window like I’m not enjoying this immensely.

Finally, after what must be unbearable silence on her end, she clears her throat. "Kinetic."

I glance at her lazily. "Yeah?"

Her eyes narrow slightly. "You’re being… quiet."

I nod. "Yep."

More twitching. "You never just sit quietly."

"Guess I do now."

She blinks, her mouth opening slightly before she shuts it again. I can see the gears turning.

The others aren’t paying much attention—Applejack and Rarity are deep in conversation about something, Pinkie’s rambling to Fluttershy about cake, and Rainbow is off in her own world—but Twilight? Twilight is spiraling.

She forces a chuckle, flipping a page in her book with fake casualness. "Well, it’s nice. A bit… unexpected, but nice."

I nod. "Good to hear."

Her ears twitch again.

She waits. Five seconds. Ten.

I don’t say anything.

Now she’s really squirming.

She frowns, setting her book down. "Okay, seriously, what’s going on?"

I raise a brow. "What do you mean?"

"You’re not annoying me," she blurts out.

Rarity, who had been mid-sentence with Applejack, pauses and glances over with interest.

Twilight keeps going. "You always have some kind of comment, or you mess with my books, or you—something! But you’re just… sitting there!"

I shrug. "Didn’t feel like it."

She stares. "Didn’t… feel like it?"

"Yeah." I stretch my hooves out, leaning back against the seat. "Figured I’d just sit and enjoy the ride."

She blinks rapidly, clearly not buying it. "But—but you always mess with me!"

"Sounds like you should be having a good time then, Twilight."

Rarity is very obviously trying to hide her amusement behind a polite sip of tea.

Twilight, however, is not amused.

"Did I do something?" she suddenly asks.

I tilt my head. "What?"

"Did I do something?" She gestures vaguely. "Are you mad at me? Is that why you’re not—" She cuts herself off, flustered.

I stare at her for a second. Then I grin. "Twilight, are you saying you miss my usual antics?"

She stiffens. "No! Absolutely not!"

I raise a brow. "Sure sounds like you do."

"I don’t!" she says, a little too quickly.

Rarity, who has been following this whole thing like it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever seen, finally interjects. "Darling, you do seem rather… concerned about Kinetic’s behavior."

Twilight sputters. "I—I’m not concerned! I’m just—curious!"

Rarity suddenly perks up, eyes gleaming with opportunity.

"Well, Twilight," she says smoothly, setting her teacup down with a delicate clink, "if Kinetic is no longer entertaining you, perhaps he simply needs better company."

I immediately sense danger.

Twilight just squints. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Rarity brushes a hoof through her perfectly curled mane and shifts a little closer to me. Not too close, but enough that I notice. Enough that Twilight notices.

"Oh, nothing, darling," she says in that overly sweet tone that makes my internal alarms blare. "I simply understand if Kinetic wishes to engage in more… refined company. After all, some of us appreciate the finer things in life. Intelligent conversation. Elegance. Charm."

I stare at her blankly.

Twilight snorts. "Charm? Kinetic?"

I wave a hoof. "Hey, I am very charming."

Twilight raises a brow. "You stuck a book in the freezer just to see how I’d react."

"Oh, you caught that one too huh?" I say, mildly impressed.

Rarity hums. "A playful charm, then. Why, I find it quite endearing."

I need to leave. Immediately.

I glance toward the train station, then at Rarity, then back to the train.

"Wow, would you look at the time!" I announce loudly, taking a step back. "I just remembered—I’ve always wanted to see how the train works! Super important Archmage stuff, you wouldn’t understand. See you later!"

Before Rarity or Twilight can react, I turn and bolt toward the front of the train.

I hear Twilight calling after me. "Kinetic, you don’t care how the train works!"

"Sure I do!" I yell over my shoulder, not slowing down.

I weave through the departing passengers, making a beeline for the locomotive. The engineers and staff are wrapping up their post-trip checks, and I spot the conductor standing near the controls.

Time for some creative abuse of authority.

I straighten up, slap on my best 'official unicorn who knows what he’s doing' face, and pull my brand-new Archmage badge from my saddlebag.

The conductor, an older stallion with a thick mustache, raises a brow as I approach. "Can I help you?"

I flash the badge. "Yes, you can. Kinetic Flux, Royal Archmage of Equestria." I lower my voice, adding just the right amount of mystery. "I’m here for an inspection."

His eyes widen. "Oh! Well, uh, we weren’t told about an inspection…"

I nod sagely. "That’s the point. Surprise inspections ensure quality and efficiency. Now, if you’d be so kind as to show me how this magnificent machine operates…" I gesture toward the controls like I actually know what I’m looking at.

The conductor hesitates for only a second before stepping aside. "Right this way, sir."

Perfect.

I step into the train’s engine room, eager to see what actually makes this thing run. I’m expecting something mechanical—maybe a hybrid setup, a magical booster system, something with gears and pistons and actual engineering.

Instead, I’m greeted by a series of glowing runes carved into metal plates.

I stare.

The conductor beams. "A marvel of modern enchantment! The entire system runs on a series of magically inscribed rune circuits, powered by an integrated leyline converter! Efficient, clean, and requires no manual labor!"

I resist the urge to scream.

Of course it’s just magic.

I let out a long sigh, rubbing my temples. "So… no steam engine? No pistons? No actual mechanics?"

The conductor frowns. "What are those? No. It’s got a rune that holds it up to lighten it, and a rune that pushes it along. It's all powered by the layline."

I sigh again, feeling deeply disappointed. "So you’re telling me this is basically just a floating platform with wheels?"

He blinks. "Uh… I suppose you could put it that way, but—"

I hold up a hoof. "No, don’t ruin it further. Just let me mourn."

He looks thoroughly confused but wisely decides not to press the issue.

I give the glowing runes one last disappointed glance before turning away. "Alright, inspection complete. You’re all… doing fine, I guess."

The conductor nods eagerly. "Excellent! I’ll be sure to report that the Archmage personally approved our systems!"

I wave a hoof, already walking out. "Yeah, yeah, just don’t let any of this get to your head."

As I step back onto the platform, my good mood from earlier is completely gone.

Magic is such a lazy solution.

Canterlot is exactly as I remember it—tall, pristine, and filled with ponies who look like they were born knowing how to sneer. The last time I was here, I took a flying carriage straight to the Archmage Examination. No wandering the streets, no rubbing elbows with the nobility. Just a straight shot to my so-called destiny.

This time, though? I’m walking through the city like a normal pony, surrounded by Twilight and the rest of the girls as we make our way toward the castle. The streets are bustling, with finely dressed ponies moving toward the Grand Galloping Gala, their outfits ranging from tasteful to whatever Rarity considers tasteful.

The girls start singing some song, and I tune them out while walking.

I glance down at my own suit. It’s… functional. Slightly wrinkled. Definitely cheaper than most of what I’m seeing. But I have something far more valuable than fancy fabric—my Archmage badge and the royal stipend burning a hole in my saddlebags.

It’s the little things in life.

We’re almost at the castle when I remember something important.

I have a plus one.

A free extra ticket. A golden opportunity. How best to use this to my advantage?

I smirk.

"Hang on a sec," I say, stopping in my tracks.

Twilight pauses. "What? Why?"

I scan the street, my eyes landing on a random unicorn mare standing near a café, looking through her bag. She’s dressed nicely but clearly not on her way to the Gala.

Perfect.

I walk straight up to her. "Hey, you busy tonight?"

She blinks, looking up. "Uh… no?"

"Great. Want to go to the Grand Galloping Gala with me?"

Her eyes widen. "Are… are you serious?"

"Dead serious." I hold up my extra ticket. "No strings attached. Just need a date for the evening. You in?"

Behind me, I hear Twilight make a strangled noise.

Rarity gasps. "Kinetic! You cannot be serious!"

The mare looks between me and the ticket, clearly confused but not opposed to the idea. "This isn’t a prank, is it?"

I shake my head. "Nope. Just thought it’d be funny."

Twilight stomps up beside me. "You cannot just grab a random mare off the street!"

I glance at her. "Why not?"

"Because—that’s not—"that’s not how you’re supposed to do it!"

Rarity looks like she’s about to faint. "This is high society! There are expectations! You can’t just drag a random stranger into a royal event!"

The mare shrugs. "I mean… I wouldn’t mind going."

I grin. "See? She’s fine with it."

Twilight sputters. "That’s not the point!"

I turn back to the mare. "What’s your name?"

"Uh… Amethyst Star."

"Cool. I’m Kinetic Flux. I’m an Archmage, apparently. Now you’re my plus one. Ready?"

She laughs. "I mean, why not?"

Twilight looks deeply distressed. Rarity looks personally offended.

I’m having a great time.

With my new completely legitimate date secured, we continue toward the palace. Amethyst Star walks beside me, looking both amused and a little bewildered. Twilight, meanwhile, keeps glancing at me like she wants to say something but can’t quite figure out what.

Rarity, on the other hoof, is very vocal about her disapproval.

"This is an absolute travesty!" she huffs as we approach the gates. "A random mare off the street? What must ponies think?!"

I smirk. "Probably that I’m a stallion of mystery and intrigue."

Twilight groans. "That’s definitely not what they think."

Amethyst Star giggles. "I dunno, I think it’s kind of fun."

"Exactly," I say, nodding. "You get it."

Twilight twitches. "Why are you like this?"

"I ask myself that every day," I say sagely.

Twilight glares. "Just behave like you promised."

The guards at the gate barely glance at us before stepping aside, letting us into the castle grounds. Once inside, the golden glow of chandeliers, polished marble, and excessive wealth surrounds us. A lot of ponies are already mingling, chatting in their high-society tones. Classical music drifts through the air, mixing with the faint sound of clinking glasses.

I take a deep breath. "Smells expensive."

Applejack rolls her eyes. "Smells like a buncha ponies with too much money."

I grin. "Same thing."

As we step further in, Twilight still looks flustered, her eyes darting to me and Amethyst every few seconds.

"You okay there, Sparkle?" I ask, raising a brow.

"I—I just don’t understand why you’d do this!" she blurts out.

I blink. "Do what?"

"Just—this!" She gestures wildly at Amethyst. "You had a plus one, and instead of inviting somepony you know, you just—picked somepony at random! It doesn’t make sense!"

I shrug. "Seemed like the best way to use it."

Twilight groans. "But why?"

Rarity nods dramatically. "Yes, why?"

Amethyst Star, to her credit, is just enjoying the chaos.

Twilight glares at me, waiting for an answer.

I smirk. "Maybe I just enjoy keeping you on your hooves, Twilight."

She opens her mouth, then closes it. Her face scrunches up, her ears flicking like she’s trying to process something deeply upsetting.

"You know what? Fine," she finally huffs, turning away with a dramatic flick of her tail. "Do whatever you want."

"Oh, I will," I say cheerfully.

As she stomps off, Rarity gives me a withering look before trotting after her.

I turn to Amethyst Star. "So, wanna go pretend we belong here?"

She grins. "Absolutely."

Tonight’s off to a fantastic start.

I lead Amethyst Star straight to the most important part of any fancy event—the sweets table.

Towering cakes, perfectly arranged pastries, tiny little delicacies that probably cost more than my rent—this is exactly where I belong.

I grab a plate, loading it up with the most expensive-looking treats I can find. Amethyst Star does the same, clearly getting into the spirit of things.

"This stuff’s free, right?" I ask, stuffing a miniature éclair into my mouth.

Amethyst Star snorts. "I think that’s the point."

"Good, good. I’d hate to start my first Gala as an Archmage with theft charges."

A few nearby nobles glance over at us, already side-eyeing our existence. I grin. Time to have some fun.

I lean toward Amethyst, lowering my voice just enough to make sure the ponies around us can still hear.

"You know, it’s funny," I say, taking another bite of cake. "Most ponies think the Archmage position is all research and spellcraft."

Amethyst raises a brow. "It’s not?"

"Oh, no," I say, shaking my head. "It’s mostly secret missions."

A unicorn in a ridiculous feathered hat subtly leans closer. I can feel the curiosity radiating from the ponies around us.

Amethyst catches on immediately, nodding along. "Really? What kind of missions?"

I sigh dramatically, like I’m about to reveal classified information. "Well, I shouldn’t say, but since we’re at a royal event, I suppose a little slip won’t hurt…"

The nobles are fully eavesdropping now.

I glance around, then lower my voice. "You know how the Griffon Empire’s been suspiciously quiet lately?"

Amethyst nods. "Uh-huh."

"Yeah," I say, shaking my head. "That’s because of me."

Gasps. A mare actually drops her champagne glass.

Amethyst barely keeps a straight face. "No way. You?"

I nod gravely. "Mmm. Let’s just say there was an incident at the embassy a few months back. You wouldn’t believe the things I had to do to avert disaster."

The nobles are now whispering to each other.

"Wait," Amethyst says, playing along perfectly. "You mean that whole thing with the ambassador's mysterious illness—"

I hold up a hoof. "I can’t confirm or deny that I may have been involved in a covert magical operation to prevent an international crisis."

The feather-hat unicorn gasps again.

I take another bite of cake, chewing dramatically as if I definitely didn’t just drop a fabricated international scandal into high society’s lap.

The nobles around us are riveted.

Amethyst Star, barely holding in her laughter, leans in. "That’s incredible," she whispers loudly. "But surely you weren’t alone on such a delicate mission?"

I sigh, shaking my head. "Of course not. There were others—agents, specialists, operatives—but some things only an Archmage can handle."

A stallion in a ridiculously oversized cravat practically chokes on his drink.

"Like what?" Amethyst asks, playing the perfect conspirator.

I glance around, lowering my voice again. "Let’s just say… certain magical artifacts are better left undisturbed." I pause meaningfully. "Unless, of course, you want to wake up with a griffon curse."

A chorus of scandalized whispers erupts from the nobles around us.

One of them—a mare with a pearl necklace that probably costs more than my entire existence—tilts her head. "You’re saying there’s a cursed artifact in the Griffon Empire?"

I tap my chin, as if considering whether I should divulge more. "Technically, it’s not in the Griffon Empire anymore…" I let my words hang, watching her eyes widen in horror.

Amethyst Star gasps. "Wait. Wait. Are you saying it’s here?"

I exhale through my nose, giving her a grim look. "Let’s just say, if you start having… unusual dreams tonight, I suggest seeking a healer immediately."

The pearl-necklace mare actually turns pale.

A noble stallion next to her mutters, "I knew something felt off tonight…"

Amethyst is openly grinning now, but she somehow keeps her tone serious. "This is huge. Why hasn’t the princess addressed this publicly?"

I take another slow bite of cake, chewing thoughtfully. "You don’t really think Celestia tells everypony everything, do you?"

At that moment, I swear half the nobles physically recoil. One mare actually clutches her chest like I’ve just shattered her worldview.

Amethyst Star nods sagely. "Of course. It makes so much sense now."

I sigh again. "It’s a burden, really. The things I know. The things I can’t say. But hey," I grab another pastry, tossing it into my mouth, "that’s the job."

The feather-hat unicorn is practically vibrating with the urge to run off and immediately spread this nonsense to every pony in the ballroom.

Mission accomplished.

I dust off my hooves and turn to Amethyst. "So. More cake?"

She lets out an actual snort of laughter, nodding. "Oh, absolutely. But I swear, if I have unusual dreams tonight, I’m tracking you down."

I wink. "Good luck finding me."

As we turn back to the sweets table, I catch a glimpse of Twilight across the room, deep in conversation with Celestia.

And she looks directly at me.

I hold her gaze.

She narrows her eyes.

I grin.

Yeah. This night’s going great.

As I'm busy stacking my plate with yet another round of high-society sugar, I hear the unmistakable voice of Princess Luna echo across the ballroom.

"Kinetic Flux! Thou scoundrelous rogue!"

I turn just in time to see a tall, dark alicorn striding toward me, her ethereal mane flowing like a slice of the night sky. Her expression? A perfect mix of excitement and mischief.

"Luna," I say, grinning. "Been a while."

She stops just in front of me, looking me up and down with a smirk. "Indeed. Too long! We have been bored in thine absence." She tilts her head. "Hast thou been causing trouble in our fair lands?"

I hold up my badge. "Officially, no. Unofficially, I maintain my right to silence."

She snorts. "Thou art a menace, and we adore thee for it."

Amethyst Star, standing beside me with a half-eaten tart in her hoof, watches the exchange with open curiosity. I nod toward her. "Oh, where are my manners? Luna, this is Amethyst Star, my lover of ten years."

Amethyst Star chokes on her tart.

Luna deadpans. "Ah, yes, truly a touching tale of devotion." She narrows her eyes playfully. "And yet, when last we spoke, thou didst claim to despise the equine form, particularly due to the—how didst thou put it—'grotesquely large and offensively veiny eyeballs'?"

Amethyst Star is now coughing violently.

I clear my throat. "Ah, well. You know how it is. Love finds a way."

Luna smirks, stepping closer. "And tell us, dear Amethyst Star, how didst thou ensnare our dear friend, knowing his… deeply held aesthetic grievances?"

Amethyst, to her credit, recovers quickly. She flashes a dazzling smile. "Oh, it was quite simple, your highness. I just kept my eyes closed for the first five years."

Luna throws her head back and howls with laughter.

The nobles within earshot, who had already been quietly scandalized by my presence, now look utterly lost, unsure if they should be horrified or amused.

Twilight, who I spot from across the room, looks entirely horrified.

Luna wipes a tear from her eye. "Oh, how we have missed thee, Kinetic! Thou art a breath of fresh air amidst this dreary parade of self-important peacocks."

I smirk. "I do what I can."

She leans in conspiratorially. "Tell us, what schemes dost thou have planned for the evening?"

I grin. "Well, I already started a rumor about a cursed griffon artifact hidden in Canterlot, so we’re off to a good start."

Luna gasps in delight. "Truly? A most noble endeavor!" She places a hoof on her chest dramatically. "We shall ensure the rumor spreads swiftly."

I nod. "I expected nothing less."

Amethyst Star leans in. "Didn't you tell Twilight that you were going to behave tonight."

I give her an innocent look. "I am behaving... poorly."

Luna nudges me with a wing. "Come! We must mingle further. 'Tis rare we find one as entertaining as thee amidst these insipid festivities!"

Amethyst Star grins. "Oh, I like her."

I smirk. "Yeah. She's alright."

Luna grins back. "We heard that!"

This night just keeps getting better.

I follow Luna and Amethyst Star through the ballroom, occasionally picking up another random dessert from a passing waiter. The energy of the Gala is shifting—whispers of the cursed griffon artifact are spreading, nobles are nervously glancing over their shoulders, and more than one pony is now clutching a lucky charm for protection.

Luna is thrilled.

We’re in the middle of discussing whether I should escalate the rumor by dropping hints about a secret anti-curse task force when I start noticing something strange.

Namely, the fact that I’m no longer the biggest source of chaos in the room.

Across the ballroom, Applejack has abandoned any attempt at elegance and is now aggressively selling apple-based goods to passing nobles like she’s at the Ponyville market. She’s cornered a particularly overwhelmed-looking stallion and is currently waving a caramel apple in his face like it’s a high-stakes business deal.

On the other side of the hall, Rarity’s expression has gone from dreamy to horrified as Prince Blueblood—Canterlot’s most self-important stallion—turns his nose up at every polite thing she’s tried to do for him. He just made her open a door for him. I can feel the impending explosion from here.

Pinkie Pie, in the center of the dance floor, is… well. Pinkie Pie-ing. The Gala’s upper class does not know how to handle her energy, and their stiff, refined dancing is rapidly dissolving into barely contained panic.

Meanwhile, Fluttershy is—oh. Oh no.

I spot her near the royal gardens, stalking a group of clearly frightened animals. I swear I see a squirrel visibly shaking as she inches closer.

And then there’s Rainbow Dash, who’s been glued to the Wonderbolts all night, trying to impress them. I don’t know how that’s going, but given the increasingly irritated looks on their faces, I’d say not well.

Twilight, standing near Celestia, is watching all of this unfold with growing horror.

I nudge Luna. "So, question."

She raises a brow. "Ask, and we shall answer."

"Did Celestia actually think this was going to be a nice, peaceful evening with this crowd, or was this all part of some elaborate prank?"

Luna follows my gaze, eyes flicking over the sheer amount of problems currently unfolding.

Then she grins.

"We suspect," she says, "that our sister knew precisely what would transpire."

I smile. Of course Celestia saw this coming. She probably invited them knowing full well what kind of disaster they’d unleash. I respect the long game.

At this point, things are actively falling apart. Applejack is now yelling about “honest country cooking” while trying to force-feed some noble a slice of pie. Pinkie has fully hijacked the dance floor, bouncing around while horrified nobles scatter like roaches. Fluttershy—sweet, gentle Fluttershy—is chasing a peacock through the ballroom with the manic energy of a mare on the edge.

Then, the cake incident happens.

I turn just in time to witness it in all its glory—some unfortunate waiter stumbles, sending a towering, beautifully decorated cake flying through the air. Prince Blueblood, seeing the incoming confectionary doom, grabs Rarity and uses her as a shield.

There’s a glorious splat as Rarity takes a full-on, frosting-covered impact to the face.

A moment of silence follows.

Then, she screams.

The entire ballroom erupts.

Glasses shatter. Ponies panic. Tables flip. Fluttershy finally snaps and starts shrieking at the animals. Somewhere in the chaos, I hear Pinkie cheering.

I nod, taking a deep breath. "Yep. That’s my cue."

Luna sighs dramatically. "Alas! Duty calls. We must confer with our sister."

I pat her on the shoulder. "Go do royal things. I’m gonna focus on what’s important."

She raises a brow. "Which is?"

I gesture toward the dessert table. "Making sure all this free food doesn’t go to waste."

Luna grins. "A noble cause. Go forth, brave Archmage."

I salute before heading over and absolutely looting the sweets table. I shove pastries, eclairs, and whatever else I can carry into my saddlebags before casually making my way toward the exit. Amethyst Star follows, balancing a small plate of treats on her back.

As soon as we step outside, the muffled chaos of the ballroom fades into the cool, quiet air of the castle gardens. I let out a long sigh, stretching.

"That," I say, "was beautiful."

Amethyst Star laughs. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen nobles look that terrified."

"You should come to more events with me," I say, sitting on one of the garden benches. "This kind of thing happens a lot."

She plops down next to me, taking a bite of some fancy pastry. "You really don’t take anything seriously, do you?"

I shrug. "Why would I? Have you met the world? It’s ridiculous."

She smirks. "Fair point."

We sit there for a bit, just enjoying the night air and watching as very distressed guests start spilling out of the ballroom. After a while, Amethyst Star sighs and stands up.

"Alright, I think I’ve had my fun. I should probably head home before I get roped into cleaning up whatever’s happening in there."

I smirk. "Coward."

She flicks my ear with her tail. "Survivor."

I watch as she trots off, disappearing into the Canterlot streets. I lean back, munching on an eclair, feeling very satisfied with how this night turned out.

At least she kept Rarity off my back for the night.