Deal with the Devil

by fic Write Off

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 71636

Round 6 of the main Ponychan write-off event - Deal with the Devil

Writefriends from all over Ponychan gathered in a war of words on the weekend of October 19, writing to prompts drawn by our friendly neighbourhood /art/ists.

The preliminary voting round has reduced the pool of stories down to nine finalists. But who is the greatest a/fic/ionado? The decision is yours. Vote, rate, and choose your favourites!

Authors are anonymous, so you won't know who wrote what until the voting stage is over.

Click here to cast your vote! The stories listed above VOTING are the finalists.

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Published 2012-10-29 18:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-10-29 18:40:01 UTC

Prism

Twilight crossed her hooves, shifting her weight into a more comfortable position before returning her attention to Honest Herbology: A History. A few pages flew by, reduced to a line of notes. Twilight cleared her throat, cringing as the sudden noise filled the quiet library. She waited, listening. No response. She sighed to herself and continued reading. Another page of notes passed without so much as a peep. The quill dropped into the inkwell with a clink, and she stared at the book. At this point, Twilight was almost sure that she was going to completely lose her mind. The library was simply too quiet. Sure, most of the usual sounds were there: the shuffle of turning pages, the scratch of quill on parchment when she took notes, even the faint chirping of birds filtering through the window almost completed the library’s typical atmosphere – emphasis on almost. She hadn’t realized how much she had acclimated to Rainbow Dash’s rather unique reading style until today.

At first she had found her friend’s outbursts to be a minor annoyance at worst. There was something really endearing about the way Rainbow Dash would actually cheer Daring Do on, gasping with every trap, every twist. You could tell she was enjoying the story as much as anypony possibly could. Now, though, it was painfully obvious that having Rainbow reading in the same room in perfect silence was much worse. Twilight risked a glance.

Rainbow was in her usual spot: lazily sprawled out by the stairs, surrounded by stacks of Daring Do books. Even from across the room, Twilight could see something was wrong – rather than a look of total immersion, the only adjective that suitably described Rainbow’s expression was pained. Her brows were furrowed, and she was glaring at the page with such intensity that she might as well have been trying to see through the book. It was almost as if she was struggling to understand the story. Twilight tried to shake the thought from her head. Sure, Rainbow Dash wasn’t the most avid reader in Equestria, but there was nothing in the Daring Do series that should give her any difficulty. And yet, the way she was soundlessly moving her lips was an undeniable sign of reading trouble.

Twilight snapped her head in the opposite direction, using a hoof to try and shield her face from Rainbow’s view. A deep blush of shame and embarrassment burst across her cheeks, sending chills down her spine. She had seen something she really wasn’t supposed to. What was she going to do? It’s not like she could just casually broach the topic and run with it. If there’s anything Twilight had learned since she had moved to Ponyville, it was that Rainbow Dash’s pride wouldn’t let her accept help, or even admit that she had a problem. Especially one as embarrassing as this.

Twilight found herself biting her lip in an attempt to calm herself. There had to be some way out of this situation that wouldn’t result in everypony feeling mortified. Okay, well, maybe there wasn’t, but the least she could do was to try and make it as painless as possible. She couldn’t just leave Rainbow like this – she obviously enjoyed the series way too much. To let her get stumped now on something small would be a crime against literature.

Twilight was up on her hooves, heart pounding madly before her brain realized that the sound she had heard was not, in fact, a massive explosion. She turned towards the source, catching a somewhat flustered Rainbow Dash in the process of picking up the book she had been reading.

“Oh, uh... sorry about that, Twi,” Rainbow Dash muttered, not meeting Twilight’s gaze.

“It’s fine, really, don’t worry about it... you just almost scared the hay right out of me. Is everything alright?” Twilight asked, taking a step towards Rainbow Dash.

“Everything’s fine. Just peachy,” Rainbow replied, her voice oddly toneless. “I just uh, remembered that I have to go do some flying... clear my head, practice, you know. That stuff.”

“Really? It’s—” Twilight paused, peeking out the window. “—still pretty early.”

Rainbow visibly flinched, shuffling closer to the wall. “Yeah, I really have to get going now, Twilight,” she said, sidling towards the door. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“O-oka—”

Twilight didn’t even get to finish before the door slammed shut, Rainbow already flying off. She trotted over to the window and stared at the sky, not really seeing. Just before the door had closed, if only for a moment, Rainbow’s smile had faded. There had been fear in her eyes.

“I’m worried, Spike. No, more than worried, I’m concerned,” Twilight muttered, pacing around the library’s central desk.

“Yes, that much I can see,” Spike said with a hint of sarcasm. “But you haven’t actually told me anything at all, and you’ve been pacing like that for over an hour!”

Twilight screeched to a halt, staring at her faithful assistant. He was right, of course. She wasn’t going to accomplish anything trying to swallow her fears and pacing a rut in the floor. She knew she was being silly. If there was anyone she could trust, it would be Spike. Besides, maybe talking it out would help her relax and clear her mind.

“Spike, you have to Pinkie Promise me you won’t breathe a word about what I’m about to tell you to anypony else, and you absolutely can’t do anything at all to try and help, at least not yet,” she said, trying to keep her tone as dead-serious as possible.

“Yeesh! Alright, I Pinkie Promise. Now tell me already, before you give the library a new basement!”

Twilight grabbed Spike and pulled him close, dropping her voice to a whisper. “I think... I think Rainbow Dash might be dyslexic. Or something else... I don’t know!”

Spike pushed away from her and laughed, but he settled down the second he saw how serious she was. “All this over something you don’t know? Wouldn’t you know for sure if Rainbow Dash is dyslexatever?”

“No Spike, that’s just it. I don’t. At first I thought it was just some reading issues, like she was having problems understand the words... but it’s too sudden. Most ponies with dyslexia are born that way – and she’s not near or far-sighted. Whatever it is has to be a recent development, and that means... that means it has to be bad.” Twilight dropped her gaze, trying to swallow the hard lump that had formed in her throat. She had been wrong. Vocalizing her fears had just made them worse, more real. Sudden panic welled up, and she closed her eyes and took deep breaths, trying to force her legs to stop trembling.

Two scaly arms wrapped her in a tight embrace. “It’ll be okay, Twilight, don’t worry...” Spike whispered into her ear. “Tomorrow we’ll go and see Rainbow Da—”

“No!” Twilight choked out with a barely-suppressed sob. “Haven’t you seen the way she’s been acting recently? Don’t you think I tried that? She’s gotten really weird... angry and impatient all the time. Talking to herself. Sometimes I see her and you can tell she hasn’t been eating or sleeping well. I... I tried to bring it up once, last week, and she just ran away from me and avoided me for days and days!”

She shuddered, and Spike tightened his grip. She had come far enough, so she had to say it.

“The truth is... I don’t really think the problem’s dyslexia, or bad vision. I wish it was, but none of those really make sense. No, I t-think there’s something wrong with Rainbow’s head. She’s not thinking clearly, not acting herself... and I’m scared.”

She could feel Spike squeezing her, like he could wring the sadness right out of her.

“I know, Twilight, I know.”

“Alright Twilight, what do you want?” Rainbow Dash said as she walked through the library door. "I have a lot of training left to do today, so let's make this quick."

“Spike, now!” Twilight yelled, seeing that Rainbow had cleared the entranceway. The little dragon quickly slammed the door behind Rainbow Dash, locking it with a crossbar and a padlock. Rainbow spun to glare at Spike, who shielded the door with his body.

“What gives, Twilight? Huh?” Rainbow screamed, turning away from the door. “Are you gonna lock me up here—is that what you’re going to do? Gonna lock me up and throw away the key?” Rainbow Dash continued in a low, bitter tone.

The sudden accusation hit like a ton of bricks, but Twilight bit back the tears. She had prepared herself for this. Right now, no matter what happened or what Rainbow Dash said, she would follow through. Her friend needed her.

“Nothing like that at all, Rainbow! I promise,” Twilight said, stepping slowly towards Rainbow Dash. “I know what you're going through – I just want to help. I know you must be scared, but you have to trust me.” Twilight edged closer, trying to keep up a stream of reassuring statements.

Rainbow Dash stared back, tight-lipped. Twilight reached out a hoof, trying to embrace Rainbow in a hug. If she could just get through, past the shell of fear and anger, she was sure she’d find the Rainbow Dash she knew and loved.

“Everything’s going to be all righ—” The air rushed out of Twilight’s lungs as Rainbow Dash’s shoulder thrust into her chest, knocking her to the ground. Twilight looked up, stunned.

Rainbow Dash wasn’t even looking at her – the other pony had smashed her hooves against her ears and started screaming.

“R-Rainbow?” Twilight said weakly, trying to get back on all fours.

“Just shut up! Disappear already! You aren’t real and you don’t exist and I can’t hear you—lalalalalalalal!” Rainbow continued, focusing all her attention on a space to Twilight’s left.

“Rainbow! Who are you talking to? What’s going on?”

Twilight had to fall backwards to avoid another tackle from Rainbow Dash, who remained hovering over her. Up close, she could see just how disheveled and miserable Rainbow Dash was; her mane was tangled and dirty, and she had huge bags under her eyes. At least, that was all she could make out through the tears.

“And you – you’re even worse than him! Everything’s going to be all right? What do you know about being all right, Miss Celestia’s Favorite Pupil, most magical unicorn super-student, huh? Know what I'm going through! What a joke! When have your dreams ever come falling down around you like a deflated cloud? You don’t know anything! Nothing!”

Rainbow Dash seemed to pause, her expression going blank, before shaking her head. “I’m done with this, Twilight. I can’t have you ruining all my fun... you can’t keep me here.” Rainbow Dash looked around the library, a very odd smile creeped across her face. She chuckled mirthlessly, walking towards the center of the room.

Twilight felt herself being lifted up by Spike’s firm grasp. She tried to gather her wits, to find the words that would turn this disaster of an intervention around, but it was too late.

Rainbow Dash smashed straight through the glass window, leaving nothing behind but the tinkle of glass and the echo of a laugh.

“Goooood morning, Rainbow Dash!”

“Stop talking,” Rainbow Dash moaned, crawling out of bed, her eyes still closed. Her head throbbed, and she nearly scrambled back under the covers. Not that it would do her any good. Sleep held no release for her. It couldn't protect her from the headaches anymore, or from him. Rainbow Dash cradled her head in her hooves. Today’s headache was the worst she had ever experienced, like somepony had bucked her head over and over again until all of her thoughts had leaked out.

“You've really hurt my feelings this time, Dashie-poo,” the voice continued in a melodramatically hurt tone.

“Quiet! Just shut up,” she hissed under her breath as she made her way to the adjoining bathroom. She reached out a hoof and found the hot-water knob and easily set it to her preferred temperature. She kept her eyes closed, and tried to focus on the hot water streaming over her face. At least this way she could pretend that she was alone. No, that wasn't right, she couldn't let him get to her like that. She was alone. Him who, right? She was alone, enjoying a shower, alone. Just by herself.

Rainbow Dash relaxed a little as the warmth worked its magic, tension and worries washing down the drain. Even her headache was fading, the pain retreating further back into her skull. That was better, much better. She reached for the sponge and soap.

“Dashie, the mail's here! I think there's something in it for you,” cooed the voice.

The soap slipping out of her grasp. She cursed, scrubbing furiously with the sponge anyways. The harsh sting from a cut on her side forced her to slow down. She grit her teeth. She didn’t even remember getting that cut, and now it had to interrupt the only peace and quiet she had left in her life. Rainbow Dash took a deep breath to calm herself, retrieved the wayward bar, and went back to washing her wings. No, she wasn’t going to let her temper get the better of her. That was the same as him getting the better of her. With the last of the night's dirt off of her, she unsteadily trotted to the sink. She hated this part.

She opened her eyes.

“There you are, Dashie! I thought you were going to ignore me forever, even after I went through all the trouble of waking you up on time,” Discord said from the other side of the mirror.

“You aren’t real,” she asserted, more to herself than him.

“You’re only as real as you think you are,” he replied with a smile. “And what with all your little lies and your head in the clouds, I'd say I'm quite a bit more real than you! At least I know who I am, Dashie-poo.”

Rainbow Dash spun away from the mirror, trying to hide her eyes from Discord's piercing gaze.

“Oh, I almost forgot! You got a letter... and it looks like it's from the Wonderbolts! Isn't that nice?”

She gasped as another Discord appeared next to the towel rack, waving a letter like a fan. It couldn’t be real, there was no way it was real. It had to be a trick. And yet she couldn’t give up the smallest, tiniest chance that it was from the Wonderbolts. She bit her lip and snatched the envelope, her eyes hungrly scanning the return address. There was no doubt about it, it was absolutely, definitely from the Wonderbolts! She could hear Discord prattling on, but her whole world had already been reduced down to the envelope. With a trembling hoof, she tore at the seal.

The letter let out a wail like a deflating balloon and started to evaporate.

“Three times, Dashie! Three times! I don't think anypony's fallen for that trick more than once in a couple of thousand years!” Discord laughed, chalking another line under his name before waving the floating scoreboard away.

Gritting her teeth, she tried to hold back the now-familiar wave of crushing disappointment, and she knew she only just barely succeeded. A hastily-raised hoof was all that prevented Discord from seeing the tears in her eyes.

At the edge of her consciousness, she heard Discord click his tongue and flinched as a scaly arm wrapped itself around her shoulder.

“There there, don’t cry Dashie, you could be a Wonderbolt. Oh, I’ve seen how hard you practice, I’m sure you have all the skills need to actually be a Wonderbolt, you just haven’t gotten the chance... but I could give you that.”

Rainbow Dash impulsively went stiff as a board, her heart racing.

“Being a god of chaos has all sorts of perks, you know. Coincidence, accident, mishap, mayhem, luck, I rule them all.”

Discord paused, bending his head close to hers.

“Let’s say that today, you go flying and just so happen to save Spitfire from a terrible weather accident. And she just so happens to be so grateful that she gives you a backstage ticket to one of their shows. You go, of course, and by freak accident one of the Wonderbolts has some problem, I don’t know, sprains their wing or something, and by some miracle of chance you just so happen to be perfect to take their place. Maybe, just maybe, you do such an amazing job that they ask you to stay afterwards, as a temporary replacement. Maybe more than temporary. It could happen – it’s not impossible. Just unlikely.”

She swallowed hard. It was obvious what he was implying. Everything she had ever wanted, the chance she needed, it could be hers.

“What do you want me to do?” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

“Love me back.”

Apple Slices

For our first date, we snuck into a diner, ate in silence, crept through darkened streets, kissed no goodbyes. All the while my wife, still recovering from the pains of foaling, slept in our bed in the farmhouse.

Tonight, she is dark suppleness, she is everything and everywhere, and we move together like stars bursting. Tonight, there is no mystery, no secrets, only us and the night. There may be regrets.

"When do you want to do this again?" she asks through tobacco smoke.

"Not sure." I draw the covers up to myself, as though lying bare were something to be ashamed of. "I ain't never been good at excuses. Gonna start lookin' suspicious right quick, I reckon."

She turns to me and laughs, reminds me why she caught my eye in the first place, all candy-striped mane with a giggle that pumped joy into my aching soul.

I'm a farmer; I'm not supposed to live a life of excitement or intrigue. That's sort of the whole point to farming: live for the land, the sunrise, the changing seasons, the interminable constancy of work and family and tradition. My father and his father before him worked apple orchards around Equestria. My newborn son, when he's big and strong and red like an apple, will work my orchard, or perhaps start another of his own.

And perhaps, like me, he'll find himself hemmed in by the monotony, the loneliness, the isolation from society. He'll feel like a sheep in a pen, only the wooden slats are tradition and work and family. He'll end up doing just what everypony expects him to until one day, when he sees his wife going into labor, his mind will snap. Like a fisherpony who's fallen under the ice, he'll struggle for breath, beating against his cage, until some snazzy unicorn with a light step and a quick eye reaches down and saves him.

She slides over, places a hoof across my chest, looks up at me. "You've never done this before, have you? An affair, I mean."

I can barely look at her now. If the mirror weren't on the opposite side of the hotel room, I'd barely be able to look at myself. Celestia, I didn't even have the decency to leave Ponyville for my liaison.

"Well, there was last week..."

"You know what I mean, silly."

I nod. "I never asked for much. Always thought I had the life I wanted, you know? Turns out I was just doin' what everypony wanted me to do. An' now it's too late to change."

On the floor beside the bed, my leather Stetson rests against her straw boater. The apple I brought her sits near them, browns where I cut a slice off. I held that slice in my mouth to feed it to her, and that was our foreplay, kissing and chewing. She lays her head against my chest; I can feel her heart beating. No doubt my wife could feel the same when Macintosh was still inside of her. My throat closes up.

"I gotta get back," I mumble.

"Go on," she says, with a smile. "Go be a good father. You're the type who can do it, I can tell. You know how to find me, if you ever need anything."

I kiss the tip of her horn softly and she shivers.

"Thanks," I say. As an afterthought, as though I have to remind myself of her name before forcing it through my lips. "Snowie."

She shoves me, but I can still feel the playfulness coming through the motion. "Thanks yourself, Golden. You stay outta trouble now, you hear me?"

"I will."

I won't. I've licked the razor's edge, stood on the cliff above raging waters, tasted the brown slice of apple, and that rotten sweetness can't be substituted by any flavor.

"It's been a while, Golden. A whole year, I think. Didn't imagine I'd see you again. What's got your goat?"

She hasn't changed one jot. The boater looks ridiculous with her chiffon dress, and I think she knows it, but I tell her she's beautiful anyway because it's true.

"How d'you know somethin's got my goat?"

Her eyes roll. "Why would we be in Baltimare tonight if something hadn't?"

"Maybe I like the place," I lie. The Baltimare docks offer spirited nightlife. Buttered seafood mounds in abundance. Alcohol-fueled revelry is the norm instead of a weekend special. I imagine, as I sip cider with her under the soft light reflected on the waterfront, that I can taste the apples' origin, that they came from my orchard. It makes me feel like I belong here.

"Havin' another foal," I tell her at last, and she nods, places a hoof on mine.

"It doesn't seem like you want to."

I pull away, look away, down another gulp.

She says, "You don't have to explain yourself to me, you know. I'm not the one judging you."

This gets me to look at her. "Then who is?"

I can't help but think that her smile is sad. "You are."

That explains everything, then.

The night is filled with cider and dancing and sweat and breath and I tell her I love her but I'm not sure it's true. She doesn't seem to care; she only laughs her laugh that makes everything all right. We lie together under a tree in a park, where we think nopony will see us, but secretly hope that they do and say, Dear Celestia, I wish they'd find a room, but that there sure is a young, carefree couple in love! and maybe it will be true.

When we've finished, she looks at me and says, "Would you do something for me?"

"Anything."

Her hoof slides up my chest, ruffles my coat. It tickles. "Get me some cider next season? I bet yours is loads better than what they have here."

My heart swells with pride, or maybe it's my head. "Of course!" I'm far too eager, to full of grins, but I would move the moon for this mare. I wish I could say that about the other mare in my life.

"You're doing it again."

"Doin' what?"

She chuckles and kisses me under the chin. "You're thinking about her, aren't you?"

"Her who?"

"You know what I mean." She stretches, lets out a sigh, levitates her rumpled dress over. "Guess that means it's time to call it a night."

She stands and I sigh. "I wish..."

She hesitates. There's an edge to her voice. "Wish what, Golden?"

My face flushes. I shouldn't have said that. "I wish I could bring you home. Have you help around the house or somethin'. We hire workers all the time, wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary. We could spend more time together."

"And have a better chance of being caught." I feel like a schoolcolt being chided by his teacher. "Not to mention one unicorn in your earth pony orchard would stand out just a little extra, hmm?"

She takes my chin in her hoof, turns my head, forces me to look at her. Her eyes are deep pools covered in blue ice. "Listen to me, Golden. I'm just a figment. Or, if you want to continue this, a promise. What I'm not is real. Remember that: I'm not real. This is all just a dream, and in the morning you'll wake up and go back to your farm and your wife and your one and a half foals, and none of this will have mattered. You got that?"

The sting of her words forces tears to my eyes, but she's right. "A dream. I got it."

"Sorry. Sometimes things like that have to be out in the open." She smiles, kisses me once more, gathers her dress and hat, and stands. "Walk me back to the hotel?"

I walk her back to the hotel and feel like a rube. Why would I let myself get attached to this mare, this figment? I'm green as a new apple, yet I'm rotten to the core.

"My mother-in-law's movin' in with us."

We're shopping in Manehattan, Saddle's Fifth Avenue. She doesn't have expensive tastes necessarily, just a large appetite for clothing and accessories that I cannot help but indulge.

"That would put anypony on edge," she says brightly, without taking her eyes from the ensemble currently hovering above her head.

"The farmhouse is big enough and all. Applejack'll even have her own room once she's grown. But..."

She turns to me, lifts her sunglasses. I don't know why she doesn't have the hat today, but the lack of it makes her seem unreal. Maybe she's just part of my imagination after all.

"But you're worried about having to share the house with a stranger, whether she's your wife's kin or your own."

I nod and swallow. "Worried she'll see through my excuses. It's why we ain't seen each other for a while again."

She laughs, but the merriment isn't there. "I seem to recall a certain night outside Hoofington not that long ago..."

I blush, say nothing, let another dress flop onto my back and hope the added weight won't cause them all to shift onto the floor. Outside, ponies screech at each other, trying to scream their way through traffic. There are reasons I prefer the country.

"All right," she says, "I think that's good for today. Will you be a dear...?"

"Of course." We go to the counter, to the bored-faced pegasus, who slowly rings each item through, placing it in a bag. I feel like I want to be anywhere else, to run, to soar, to do anything that would make me move as fast as I can. I don't know what I want. Maybe it's just from having spent a whole day waiting.

"Oh." The pegasus looks at me, then at her, then pulls a clipboard out from below the counter. "Your name wouldn't be Snow Job, would it?"

She wrinkles her nose. "Who's askin'?"

The pegasus seems incapable of showing emotion. His words seem incapable of traveling at a reasonable speed.

"It says here I'm not supposed to sell to you until you pay your tab. No more loans."

She clucks her tongue, makes a disgusted noise, looks at me. "Could I ask you to...?"

"Ya don't even gotta ask." It's a hefty bill, far more than I was anticipating spending on her, but nothing I can't handle. My credit is good. We leave, her with a new sunhat and me with an aching back and five bags full of clothing I'll never likely see her in.

"I'm sorry about that," she says once we've exited the store. Her tone is so contrite that I can't imagine having any doubts as to her sincerity. "I promise, I'll make it up to you tonight."

With a soft laugh, she hip-checks me. I nearly lose control of the bags. That's all I needed to hear, though.

Pride prevents me from letting her pay for dinner, even though it takes the last of my bits. I can't bring myself to watch as she pays for our hotel room. Once the bags are off my back, she's on it, kissing my ear, purring at me, dragging me into bed.

My world becomes a rocking boat. I didn't even know mares could do these things. I am tossed on her storm, give myself to the pounding waves, let myself fall beneath the surface and float back up to the ice once the waters have cooled. It's a long time before either of us can speak.

"Did you bring me an apple this time?"

"I did, but... I think I lost it back around Bridleway."

She pouts; it's adorable. We rise again on the surf and break with a crash. I drink her in like a pony lost in the desert. There are no foals here, no orchards, no fences or wives or mothers-in-law. No apples save the one on my flank.

I only know we've finished because I've never seen her so exhausted. I'm not sure that I'm even alive. She's always had that advantage of youth over me, but that is still a poor shield against unbridled passion. It's good to know she's mortal; she might even be real.

"Did I make it up to you?" she gasps, lying on her back, grinning, drunk.

"And how."

She laughs, moans, rolls over, sleeps. I run my hoof through her red and white mane, minding the horn. She is softness and curves, yet she is hard lines and boundaries. My brownness is a unifier somehow. I ponder that until I fall asleep.

Granny Smith, as we call her these days, insists on these weekly outings into town. I'd thought living with her would be an imposition, another knot in the noose, but though she's got my wife's fiery temper and spirit, she seems to know how to repair a marriage, and I'm grateful for her meddling. There's a new eatery in town, a café, with reasonably priced food that makes me feel like royalty to be eating. It's here, with Granny, Macintosh, baby Applejack and her mother, under the pastel umbrella and the clear blue sky, that I see her again, for the first time in months.

She's wearing a dark outfit I recognize from our Manehattan trip, sitting on a bench just down the road, a spot I could not help but see her in. The moment our eyes meet, she gets up and trots away.

"Whatcha lookin' at, sonny?" Granny Smith is in my personal space, eyebrow cocked.

"I, uh..." Placed on the spot, words fail me. I'd told them I was going to be at a farmer's convention that weekend. It was true that it had been going on, just outside Manehattan, but I'd only spent an hour or two there, to stretch the truth less. "I think I see somepony I met at the Manehattan convention. If y'all will excuse me a mite."

I leave the table, ignore the calls of my name, don't look back. She's ahead of me, sauntering slightly now. Something about her looks different. It takes all my willpower not to gallop after her, call her name; that would be too suspicious. As if I'm not suspicious enough already. She lets me catch up to her.

"What are you doing here? I'm out with my family..."

She's got the sunhat on, and sunglasses again. She draws them down her nose, looks up at me. Makeup has smeared down her cheeks. The sight of those tracks stills my tongue.

"I'm pregnant," she says in a voice hoarse from crying.

"What? But why would you..."

"They're yours."

How I do not end up on the ground, I can't be sure. Everything is spinning, turning black. My knees are weak. The ice is shattering. All I see is her mascara-streaked face, upturned, vulnerable. All I can think is, I'll be ruined!

"'They'?"

She hiccups. "Twins."

My mouth is dry. "How... How do you know?"

"You're the only one so far this season." She seems almost reluctant to admit it.

I feel tears well. Something inside me is pressing against every surface of my body, straining to escape. "What do we do?"

"You go on with your life." The venom in her voice is more bitter than an unripe crabapple. "And I stop living mine." She lets out a sigh and I feel myself split in two.

"I could..." Do what? I can't think!

She scoffs. "Take them in? Raise them as your own? Then what about me? A nameless farm worker hiding a secret shame?"

"I can't accept them. They can't ever know." It feels wrong to say. I shake my head. "No, I can't. I'm sorry." It would ruin me. "I'll help you, though. I'll send money. To the same address as the cider, right?"

"No. I've moved since then." She produces a card, slips it under the brim of my hat. Her eyes turn to my side, her sunglasses move back into position, and I am aware that my wife is right behind me.

"Ya mind introducin' me to your friend here, Golden Delicious?"

I hope the surprise doesn't show on my face. "Sweetie, this is..."

"Call me Snowie." Her voice holds no hint of emotion. She holds out a hoof and they shake. "Golden and I were just chatting about some unfinished business."

"From the convention," I add.

"Pleasure." She doesn't seem pleased. Applejack, asleep on her back, squirms and coos.

"Ohh, and this must be Applejack! Golden wouldn't stop talking about her that weekend. My, what a cute baby, and she's grown so much!" She looks at me, her smile false. "You must be so proud."

"Heh, that I am!" I put an arm around them both. My wife is smiling now. She's been won over. I don't have to worry now.

"Mama's gettin' tired," she says, inclining her head to me, "not to mention Applejack's late for her nap. We oughta get goin'. It was nice meetin' you though, Miss Snowie!"

"Nice meeting you as well! Golden, you'll think over my proposal, right? I'm sure we can come to an agreement."

I feel sweat bead at the edge of my hat band. "I will. I don't think it'll take much thinkin' on, neither."

"Well, ta then. Good seeing you again." She saunters off. My wife seems none the wiser. I have won.

But all the way back home, I can only think about that 'proposal'. The farm's been in good condition lately. I have money to spare. But in the long run, will that be enough? Fair skies don't guarantee good crops.

Back in the orchard, I sit under a tree, paring the skin off an early fallen apple with a hoof knife. In a circumstance like this, tradition dictates that I be whistling a tune or something, but I'm spent. I can't do what's expected of me anymore, but it's not like I have anything else to do.

I cut slices off, dropping them on the ground. I swear I can hear her laughter on wind. I shiver. This apple is black inside.

Discord's Deli of Chaos

"I'm tellin' ya, Twi, the place might look a li'l shabby on the outside, but I'll be a frog's momma if the food just ain't the best I ever had!"

"Well..." Twilight let the comment hang in the air as she stared up at the edifice.

Sandwiched between a stately brick law office and an equally august book seller's, the restaurant's garish pink and fluorescent green aluminum siding definitely stood out. Not to mention the numerous mobiles and model airplanes hanging from the eaves, most of which moved despite the lack of wind, the dilapidated barber shop pole repainted to show a different clown face on every revolution, and the neon sign. Twilight had to admit it was certainly a memorable place as Applejack led her inside.

There was a soft 'ding' followed by the sounds of a marching band and five or six extremely loud air horns as the door opened. The inside was far more subdued than the façade, with wood paneling, chessboard tile floor and lofty balustrades on the staircases, though it didn't take Twilight long to realize that the numerous windows had no analogues on the outside, not to mention there was no actual second story. In fact, the interior appeared to be larger than the exterior.

"W-welcome to Discord's Deli of Chaos," said a quiet voice from their right.

Twilight turned to see a large counter and deli case, stocked with all sorts of meats, cheeses, breads, fireworks, writing implements and condiments, behind which stood a meek yellow draconequus. She smiled shyly at them, her pink mane covering her face slightly, and bowed.

"May I take your order?"

Something about the draconequus seemed familiar, and Twilight hung back, trying to study both the cashier and the menu while Applejack stepped forward.

"I'll have a hot pastrami an' bees on rye, extra bees, and a lamp oil milkshake."

The draconequus leaned over, grasping a small microphone growing from a tall ficus in the corner. When she spoke into it, her voice was simultaneously muffled and amplified across the front of the deli.

"Number fifteen, um, honeyed up."

As Applejack pulled out her bit pouch, the girl seemed to do a double-take.

"Oh! I almost forgot. We're having a special deal today, for lunches. If you buy a half sandwich and any cup of soup, you get the drink free. Milkshakes included."

"Well by golly, if that don't sound like a bargain!" Applejack grinned and deposited her bits on the counter while the order was amended.

"M-make that a half combo. Um, please?"

A gruff voice came from the kitchen, behind double doors that swung to and fro, guided by the restless motions of what seemed to be two live monkeys embedded in place of door handles.

"Why don'tcha make up your mind?"

"I'm sorry!" the draconequus squeaked, hands flying up to cover her face. Something in Twilight's mind clicked.

"Fluttershy?"

"Oh. You noticed it's me..."

This draconequus was indeed Fluttershy, despite the serpentine body and mismatched horns, wings and limbs. Applejack blinked, doing her own double-take, and grinned.

"Well, I'll be! Fluttershy, I didn't even recognize ya! How long you been workin' here?"

"Not long." Fluttershy played with the long curl of her mane. "I only work here part time, on the weekend."

Twilight stepped forward, one eyebrow lifted. "I hate to ask the obvious, but... why are you a draconequus?"

"Do you like it?" Fluttershy smiled, turning slightly to show off her back and tail. "It's just the uniform. I mean, it's actually a full-body transformation, but it wears off after my shift is over." She held up her eagle claw. "It's nice having fingers for a while, though."

Twilight returned the smile. "Why the big secret? You could've said something when we came in."

"Oh, well... I was afraid you wouldn't want to talk to me if I didn't look like myself. And I was trying to be professional. And..."

From the kitchen came the sound of a toilet flushing and a flock of geese. A large draconequus head stretched forth on an elongated neck, pushing the doors open and disturbing the monkeys, who screeched their annoyance. It extended right into Fluttershy's face, glaring at her.

"I don't pay you to gab with the customers! Take their orders and then take their money, is that really so much to ask?" He flashed them a quick smile and a, "Sheesh!", then his head snapped back into the kitchen with a resounding gong.

"Yes, sir!" Fluttershy's face was bright red at this point and she fumbled with Applejack's bits, trying to avoid the cash register's hungry mouth and tongue while depositing them in the till. "I'm sorry, sir! Right away, sir!"

Having gotten the coins properly stashed, she gave Applejack a small plastic guinea pig inscribed with the number of her order, then set the milkshake machine to mixing its concoction. She turned back to Twilight with an apologetic smile.

"Th-that's the other reason I didn't say anything. Mister Discord is very, um..."

"Uptight?"

"Stern." Beads of sweat formed on Fluttershy's face. "Have you decided on what you'd like yet?"

Twilight had sort of forgotten about the menu, and turned back to it. "I don't know... I mean, a lot of this sounds so strange. Is this stuff even edible?"

"Sure it is!" Applejack said from her table. "I mean, it feels kinda weird, and some of it moves and stings a little, but it all squishes together eventually, and it tastes great, honest!"

"I don't know..." Twilight cast a dubious glance back up at the menu, reading off choices. "'Jet Fuel Cola'? 'Turkey with Training Wheels'? 'Macaroni and Coral'? Most of these just don't sound appetizing."

Fluttershy began looking frantically back and forth; at what, Twilight couldn't tell.

"Oh, um, uh... Maybe if you're not convinced, you should ask one of our satisfied customers." Putting on an overly wide grin, Fluttershy motioned at the dining area.

A white unicorn, who Twilight only then realized was actually Rarity, held up both hooves.

"I absolutely adore their stained glass fries, Twilight!" she declared, grinning through a mouthful of cracked teeth and bleeding gums. She suffered a moment of existential crisis brought on by the self-defeating fruitlessness of her situation, after which she loosed a sob of despair and ate until she was pretty again.

Fluttershy began to sweat again as Twilight turned back to her. "O-or, if you don't want anything too heavy, we do offer a wonderful chef's salad, with assorted nuts and bolts and fetid cheese."

"Cheese is off today!" came the voice from the kitchen.

"Oh." Fluttershy looked down at her constantly wringing hands. "Well, just fetid then. But it's my favorite. I highly recommend it, Twilight."

"Well..." Twilight hummed, looking back at the menu, trying to take in all the various ridiculous offerings at once and finding herself quickly overwhelmed. "I don't know..."

"I don't know how you people expect to stay in business!" cried a sharp voice at the back of the eatery. Twilight and Fluttershy turned and saw, of all ponies, Pinkie Pie, standing on a tabletop, holding a large submarine sandwich and looking extremely cross.

"Are all of my friends just randomly going to show up here today?" Twilight wondered aloud.

Pinkie hopped off the table, waving the sandwich, which leaked sauce, vegetables, and other toppings all over the floor, and stalked towards the counter.

"I ordered my indy race car club with extra balloons! Does two balloons sound like 'extra' to you?"

To illustrate her point, Pinkie lifted the top piece of bread, releasing a pair of orange balloons. They floated up to the ceiling, where five small goblins emerged from holes and began to squabble over them. After an upside-down fistfight wherein some seriously questionable tactics were employed, one balloon popped and the other was dragged off by the victor. His comrades limped back to their holes, holding their various bruised body parts and groaning in high-pitched voices the whole way.

Fluttershy crouched behind the counter, her mismatched horns and worried eyes the only things visible above it. "I... I'm sorry..."

"Pinkie." Twilight stepped between them as Pinkie continued to wave her sandwich at a distressingly condiment-flinging speed. "You do realize this is Fluttershy you're talking to, right? Yelling at her isn't going to accomplish anything."

"Oh!" Pinkie's expression immediately changed to one of surprise and delight. "Fluttershy, is that you? I had no idea! I mean, I kind of thought that you looked like you, but I figured if it really was you that you wouldn't want me to talk to you because you don't look like you! And also that you were trying to maintain a professional demeanor because your boss doesn't like you talking to the customers too much." Her scowl returned. "But that doesn't fix this sandwich! I demand satisfaction!"

The monkeys cried out in sharp anger as the doors swung open. The portly and be-aproned figure of Discord emerged, bearing a tray of food.

"Order up! Number nine? Number nine!"

Applejack held up her guinea pig. "'Bout time, too! I'm starvin'!"

Discord put on a patently false smile as he placed the tray in front of Applejack. "Everything look all right?"

"Sure does, thank ya kindly!"

Wiping his hands on his apron, Discord turned, frowning, to view the scene in front of the counter. "Now what's this I hear about somepony demanding satisfaction?"

"I do!" Pinkie hopped up and shoved the sandwich in his face. "Does this look like it has extra balloons to you?"

"Hmph!" Discord sneered at her. "You want balloons, is that it?" He snapped his fingers and Pinkie's body began to expand.

"Wheee!" she cried, lifting off the ground. Her body grew and grew, until, after a few moments, it exploded with a muted "Bang!" The room was showered in pink droplets, which formed into tiny Pinkie Pies as they hit the ground. The little ponies began zooming around the floor, scrambling over chair legs and dust balls while babbling in unintelligibly squeaky voices. As they collided with one another, they lost cohesion, forming first a large puddle and then a ball of something rubbery and pink. When the last itty-bitty Pinkie had leapt with a gleeful squeal onto the top of the pile, it finally resolved itself into the form of the regular-sized Pinkie Pie, who blinked her eyes and gasped.

"Oh my gosh! That was amazing!" She clapped her hooves together. "Do it again, do it again!"

"Extras cost extra," Discord snorted, before stomping behind the counter. "And as for you, missy," he said, pointing an accusing finger at Fluttershy, a series of increasingly smaller finger popping out of the tip, "you had better learn some customer service skills so that we don't have to have little scenes like that in future!"

"Y-yes, sir," Fluttershy squeaked, nearly inaudible.

Discord beamed softly at the room, actual beams of sunlight striking the walls and leaving scorch marks that filled over with different colors of plaid wallpaper. "Sorry about all that, folks. Enjoy your meals."

Twilight could not get her head to stop rattling. Fluttershy sniffed, then took a deep breath and stood back up.

"Um, so, Twilight... I don't mean to be pushy, but have you made a decision yet?"

Twilight squinted at the menu. "What's a 'Hot Monologue'?"

"It's like a hot chocolate. It's nice, though it can be kind of loud."

"Well, I'm suddenly not feeling very hungry, but I'll try one of those." She lifted three bits out of her saddlebag and put them on the counter. Fluttershy smiled, finally relaxing.

"All right! I'll mix that up and have it out in a jiffy!"

Things seemed to settle back into a sense of normalcy afterward. A toy train emerged from one of the holes in the wall and made laps about the room despite the lack of tracks, puffing clouds of fish which the ceiling goblins attempted to grab, with minor success.

"How's your sandwich?" Twilight asked as she joined Applejack at the table.

Applejack looked up. Her eyes were full of tears and her mouth was swollen with bee stings. "If'f fo guff!" She smiled blissfully before digging back in to her sandwich.

"Here you are, Twilight," Fluttershy said softly, handing her a tall, steaming mug of dark liquid.

"Thanks, Fluttershy!" Twilight instinctively blew on the surface of the mug. Her head that close to it, she noticed that it was in fact bubbling slightly. She took a sip, finding it sweet and smooth, the taste somewhere between hot chocolate and coffee with lots of cream.

That was when it started talking. Its voice was pinched and nasal, and the syllables seemed to correspond to the popping of the bubbles, giving its speech a clipped feeling.

"When in the course of Equestrian events it becomes necessary for one pony to dissolve three capsules in water and then call me in the morning edition, today we're talking to a bright new Applewood star light, star bright, first star on the right..."

"Hm!" Twilight smacked her lips and smiled. "It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but it's pretty tasty! I think I may in fact be warming up to this restaurant. And really, what around here actually makes sense in the first place?"

"I told ya, Twilight!" Applejack said, pleased.

Twilight leaned back in her chair, enjoying the monologue, Applejack sipped her soup, Fluttershy cleaned the counter, and the deli quieted down. But as is so often the case when a scene grows quiet for a few moments, the stillness was abruptly shattered by a pegasus mare in a black and purple full-body suit, complete with cape and large fedora, bursting in through the door.

"Stop right there, evil doers!" she cried. "Mare-Do-Well is here to put an end to your nefarious deeds!"

From behind the counter, somewhere closer to the ground than the register, Fluttershy squeaked, "Welcome to Discord's Deli of Chaos, mayItakeyourorder?"

"There won't be any more ordering going on in this deli once I'm through with it!" Mare-Do-Well declared, thrusting her chest out.

A thought occurred to Twilight, and she nearly spat out her monologue. Mare-Do-Well's secret identity was the five ponies currently in the deli. That could only mean...

"Rainbow Dash, where'd you find that costume?"

"Oh, hey, Twilight," Mare-Do-Well said cheerfully, turning toward her. "Fluttershy wasn't using it, so I thought I'd try it..." She choked on her words. "I mean, uh, fear not, citizen! Mare-Do-Well is here to protect you!"

Twilight slapped her face with a hoof and groaned.

"Yeah, I'm comin'," said a grouchy voice behind Dash-Do-Well. "Hold yer horses, where's the fire?"

The door swung open as a large, rough figure in a starched white shirt entered. She sported a five-o'clock shadow, dirty fingernails and numerous stains of dubious composition and location on her otherwise neatly-pressed shirt, which strained against the girth of her waistline. Her teeth were yellow and her breath smelled of cigarettes and coffee. On her head was a dull and tarnished crown; from behind it flowed a long, four-colored mane, in some unseen breeze. In her grubby, hairy, calloused hands were clutched a clipboard and pen.

Twilight perked up, recognizing her friend and mentor. "Princess Celestia!"

"Heya, Twilight."

"And just what in the name of tap-dancing potatoes is going on in here?" A bright flash, a puff of smoke, and a loud quack later and Discord stood in the center of the deli, glowering at the door.

"Health inspection," Celestia grumbled, picking at her teeth with the pen cap. Rainbow Dash lifted her head high, smile evident even through the cloth of her mask, and stood aside, letting Celestia through to do her work.

"Health inspection?" Discord's face darkened. "I run a clean shop here! This is the third health inspection in the last month! I am being harassed and discriminated against, and I demand recompense!"

Celestia snorted and glanced nonchalantly at her clipboard. "Got a report of rat pieces in the waffle batter."

Discord rolled his eyes. "There are supposed to be rat pieces in the waffle batter. That's how you make rat waffles!"

"Gonna hafta see yer food vendor's license and a tour of the food preparation facilities, sir." Celestia's voice never wavered or showed any emotion, just dull boredom.

Twilight got up and moved over beside Rainbow-Do-Well, hissing into her ear. "Dash, what in the world are you doing? There's nothing wrong with this place!"

"I don't like it, Twilight," Rainbow hissed back. "The food here isn't right. Everything's disgusting or painful or moving. I got bug bits in my teeth the last time I ate here and I've been doing everything I can to shut him down ever since! Only last time he got a restraining order against me, so I had to come back in disguise."

Twilight cast a glance past Discord and Celestia, who were arguing with one another while their impressive guts, Discord's being the larger, pressed up against one another belligerently. Fluttershy was fidgeting at the counter, trying to blend into the surroundings, or at least squeeze herself into the corner as best she could. Twilight frowned and trotted over to the counter.

"Fluttershy, are you all right?"

"Um..." Fluttershy turned eyes rimmed with tears towards Twilight. "I think so. Except Mister Discord gets extremely... upset over inspections. He's likely to--"

"Hey, Fluttershy!"

Their heads snapped up at Discord's insistent command.

"Will you get over here and give me a hand convincing Little Miss Inspector here why this whole deal is as rotten as last week's fetid cheese?"

"S-sorry, sir! But I d-don't know how much help I can--"

"Look, buddy," Celestia said, stifling a yawn, "it's nothin' personal, I'm just tryin'-a do my job here--"

"Fluttershy, your name is going to be Firedshy if you don't get over here and help me--"

"If ya don't let me view your premises, sir, the situation gets sticky, an' we'll hafta get a court order an' the police involved--"

"Fluttershy, I swear to sweet anchovy cakes, you are the most useless pony I have ever--"

"That's enough!"

The outburst got everyone's attention, including Fluttershy, who had scared herself by making it. With all eyes on her, she had no choice but to pony up, or at least draconequus up, and face the music. She put on her best calm expression and turned to Celestia.

"Ms. Inspector, honestly, there's nothing wrong with the food here. It's strange, yes, but it's in no way unhealthy."

"I just adore the stained glass fries!" Rarity sobbed.

"It's true," Twilight said, stepping forward. "I mean, everything here is odd, yes, but it tastes good and the effects are just cosmetic and wear off after you're done eating." She laughed softly. "I never thought I'd be defending a weird place like this, but it's true. If you dig a little, in fact, you may find out that the reasons for your coming here were not exactly genuine."

"Hey," Rainbow Dash shouted, "that a lie!"

"Wait a second," said Discord, "I know that voice!" A snap of his fingers and the fedora had turned into bread pudding, revealing rainbow mane.

"You! You little runt! I'll hit you with more than a restraining order this time! I've half a mind to turn you into a flock of seagulls!" He pushed up his arms and began stalking towards Rainbow, until Fluttershy intervened.

"And that's just about enough out of you, mister!" She glared at him. It was enough to actually get him to stop moving. "Your food may not be rotten, but you sure are! I'm tired of taking your constant abuse for minimum wage! I quit!"

Discord's jaw dropped and a small herd of flying reindeer emerged from it. "What?"

"You can have this job!" Fluttershy cried, and snapped her fingers. In an instant, she was back to her normal pony self, and Rainbow Dash's costume had mysteriously vanished. "Come on, Rainbow Dash," she said, grabbing the other pegasus's tail in her mouth. "We're going home."

Rainbow said nothing, allowing her friend to drag her out the door, and looking rather stunned.

"Grmph fumf a grmp!" shouted Discord. The Mare-Do-Well costume had been wrapped around his head, and as he struggled to get it off, he crashed into various decorations, upsetting potted houses and a stack of linoleum pretzels before landing in a heap behind the counter.

"Come on, Princess," Twilight said calmly. "I don't think your services are needed here anymore."

"Yeah, whatever." Celestia followed Twilight out the door, and Applejack and Pinkie Pie joined them.

Discord was finally able to get the offending clingy cloth off his face by turning it into powdered sugar. He sneezed white powder everywhere, looking up from behind the counter at his empty delicatessen.

"Well," he said to himself, "it looks like she wasn't so useless after all. I gotta admit, the kid's got spunk!" He laughed, hefted himself to his feet, and reentered the kitchen, ignoring the shrieks of the monkeys.

Rarity, her head on the table, pounded a hoof in despair.

"Why are they so good?"

I Dream In Notes

“You’ll be famous,” he had said.

I stand in front of a mirror in my room backstage, staring at the scroll. He’d bound it neatly with a small pink ribbon.

“Just hang on to it until you make up your mind,” he had told me.

So that’s what I had done. I sigh and toss it onto the messy table in front of me. The backstage is fairly busy at this point; aides and setup directors scrambling to tidy everything up before I go on. I can hear them from where I sit. My room is disorganized, clutter left over from previous performers. Containers of makeup almost entirely cover the table I sit at. There are hoofmarks on the mirror, which obviously hasn’t been cleaned in weeks. I am not so glamorous to have my room properly prepared. For now, I am just another face on stage. Nopony knows me here in Canterlot, and tomorrow, they won’t know me either.

Unless I sign.

That scroll continues to stare back at me. A low growl escapes my mouth as I seek to wither it with a glare of my own. Famous, loved, celebrated, and rich, even. He wants to forge an image of me, and I have no problem with that. He wants control; a puppet to dance on his stages, play his notes. And in turn, I achieve something other ponies only dream of.

But is it my dream, too?

My reverie is interrupted by a knock on the door. I’m important enough to be bothered with a knock, now?

“Come in.”

The door swings open, revealing two grinning fillies and a rather exasperated stagehand.

“Hey, Truestring. Look after these two a minute? I’ll be right back.” The fillies stumble in and take a seat on the floor near me.

“I am not a foalsitter!” I cry at the stagehand, but the door has already slammed shut. I feel as though I’m being punished. However, it’s no excuse for rudeness.

“On the floor? Don’t be ridiculous. There are bound to be some chairs in here,” I say to the fillies. There are several stage props practically piled into the corners of the room, and, searching through them, I manage to find a couple of chairs among the clutter. One looks like an antique, though it’s merely plastic with a shoddy paint job. The other is more of a bench than a chair. The fillies take them without complaint, though.

I retake my seat, eyeing the scroll once again before sitting down. My temporary companions haven’t said a word, as if they expect me to break the ice. I’m a musician, not a comedian. Surely they know this? An idea comes to mind, and I sift through the makeup on the table for a moment before finding the item I was looking for: a small disc, labelled with letters A through G. Dusting the makeup off of it, I hand it to one of the fillies.

“Blow in the spot marked ‘G’,” I ask her as I ready my cello.

She nods and follows my instruction. As soon as the tone hits my ears, I smile. The tuner is familiar and dependable, much like my cello. Straightening my back, I begin to strum the strings and have the filly change notes accordingly. The cello feels like an old friend when its in tune. I give it a pat before return it to its resting place, leaning up against a wall. The fillies remain silent, but continue to stare at me. One of them, the one that played the tuner, is more curious, now. I notice her eyes flicker over to my cello. That curiosity of hers seems awfully familiar, like I’d seen it before—perhaps in a mirror.

“Do you know what that is?”

She shakes her head.

“It’s a cello, a string instrument that plays in the low octaves. Have you listened to one before?”

This time, they both shake their heads. Some progress, at least.

I lean over and attempt to give a genuine smile. I think I failed. “Are you listening to my performance tonight?”

They exchange glances, then shrug at me.

“Would you—” I begin, but am interrupted by the door. The stagehand has returned.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Truestring. C’mon, kids.” He’s waving them out, but I stop him.

“That was totally irresponsible! I don’t even know you, and you left two fillies with me for Celestia knows what reason!” I jab at his chest as I speak, but he simply looks at me and shrugs.

“Hey, when a stallion’s gotta go, he’s gotta go. Better than leaving them to wander off.”

Before I’m able to give him another good berating, he’s off. I grumble and return to the table. It’s about time to go on, anyways. Carefully, I balance on my back legs and grab my cello. At first, such a feat was difficult, but I’ve become quite proficient as of late. The instrument demands nothing less.

Just before I leave, I look at the scroll one last time. The promises it carries, the doom it holds, all curled up in a pretty pink bow. I scoff and depart the room, leaving the scroll where it lay. It can wait a little longer.

The hallway is buzzing with stagehands. It’s narrow enough that I’m forced to bump shoulders with them on occasion. Such a thing would not ordinarily worry me, but I’m walking on my back legs only at the moment. The practice requires precision and concentration. I deal with the circumstances, however. That is the pony my father raised. My frustration quells, and I make it to sidestage, next to the curtain.

It’s customary for the performer to steal a peek at his or her audience beforehand, but I have no such urge. The size of the crowd will not be affecting my performance. Where other entertainers fear, I scoff. I do not need to observe them to eavesdrop on their mumblings, however. While impossible to make out any meaningful conversation, I can still feel out their mood. The rustling of their speech washes over me, speaks to me. This crowd is eager, though perhaps slightly agitated. I smirk. Perhaps starting with Hitherhoof’s Symphony in A Major would suit this one better than Haunchten’s Twilight Epiphany.

I give my forehooves a good stretching and work out the kinks in my neck. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes, lower my head, and await the announcement.

Somepony approaches me. “Truestring, you’re on in ten.” All I do is nod. I hear the pony’s hoofsteps fade away.

The lights dim. The mumbling I once heard dies down and almost disappears completely. I’m sure somewhere, some author has written volumes about the beauty of the backstage in these seconds before the performance begins, but things like that mean little to me. The words are hollow; one must experience this to understand it. Prose cannot communicate the things that notes can.

Perhaps that is why I became a musician in the first place.

I stride to the center of the stage. I give not a single glance to the audience before I reach my spot. In one swift motion, I turn toward the lights that blind me and the ponies that anticipate my first note. Though I do not bow, I give the audience a quick nod in acknowledgement. Immediately following that nod, I take one moment to myself. My eyes dart to the one place in the gallery that matters: one row back, second seat from the aisle on the right. It’s empty.

Not betraying my content, I keep my face level, and put bow to string. Ofttimes I am curious what the audience hears in my notes. There are ideas, concepts, sang beyond the constraints of the A-to-G. Mayhaps one day I will seek to discover if the listener hears the same message I present. For now, I play of love, hope, and other things of little consequence.

A screech rang throughout the small practice room.

“No, no! That’s not right at all. Hold your left hoof out further and draw the bow gently! You’re treating it like a ten-bit paddle! Precision, Truestring!”

My father’s berating was harsh, but true and well-intentioned. I swallowed, nodded, and returned to my instrument. He watched with the eyes of an eagle as I drew the bow over string, eliciting clear-cut notes on waves of smooth tone. In this instance, A Minor.

The notes did not amuse my father. He looked down at me with an eyebrow raised. “Why do you keep playing that chord? G Major is much more important. I want to hear that.”

I nodded and shifted my hoof. Pressing down in just the right spots...

Again, a horrid sound filled the room. My father stood up and stomped over to me. “No daughter of mine will be butchering G Major like that!” He grabbed the instrument and placed it under his chin. “Now pay attention.”

It wasn’t often that I got the chance to see my father play. His days in the orchestra were long-over; all he had were awards and pictures, now. Memories. A smile grew on my face as I watched him play. The sounds he drew from those four strings were resplendent.

But just as his playing started, it stopped. “Why are you smiling? You can’t even play a G Major properly!” he growled at me. The instrument was shoved back into my hooves. “Now try again! And this time, be serious about it.”

So I was.

I find myself in my backstage room again. The intermission is ten minutes; just enough to rest my hooves, but not so much that I’ll lose the rhythm I have built up. A glass of water was provided, and I’m in the middle of drinking it when I hear a knock. For the second time today, somepony bothers to knock.

“Come in.”

The door creaks open, revealing a silver-coated stallion. He stands a solid three hooves taller than me, a clean golden mane falling over his shoulders, marred only by a single black streak. Upon his face is a sly grin, one reserved only for thieves and thespians. I still haven’t figured out which one this stallion was. His eyes rest on the scroll.

“Still have it with you, I see. It’s a good thing, shows you still have ambition. Stars should always have ambition.”

I turn from him, using the mirror to make minor fixes to my mane. “Only a fool would think I’d discarded that. My drive has existed since long before you showed up.”

He strolls over to the table and places a hoof on the wretched document. “How many times have you read it, I wonder? I feel I’ve made it quite clear. You give up so little to gain so much. Perhaps you could share your doubts with me? It’s my job to see them disappear.” If I didn’t know better, I’d say his grin just turned into a sneer.

“My doubts are merely directed at you. Are you still sure you could make them vanish?”

He answered with an exaggerated frown. “I’m just a businessman, Truestring. One interested in a deal that would make both of our lives better. Are you sure your doubts do not lie elsewhere? Like, maybe, with the past? With one of my previous clients?”

I shifted in my seat and glared at him. “My father has nothing to do with this. His fire has burned out and I require none of his embers to blaze.”

The sneer disappears from his face. “I can see that, but what makes you think I was talking about him? I’m sure you’ve dealt with other clients of mine in the past.”

“Why are you here, anyways? To pester me? Doesn’t seem like an effective selling tactic.”

Looking away, he waves a hoof at me. “No, no, of course not. If you want your space, you can have it. I just wanted to let you know I’ll be in the lobby after the performance in case you make a decision.” He spins around and walks out the door, but before departing, he throws a glance over his shoulder. “Intermission’s about over. It’s your time, Truestring.”

I drop my face into a forehoof. He’s right; I do need to make a decision. The weight will bury me if I try to carry it for too long. In truth, it’s not my potential employer’s motives I doubted. It’s crystal clear to me all he cares for is profit. While not the most noble of aims, it’s entirely predictable. No, there’s something else, something I can’t quite put my hoof on. These thoughts are better left to after the performance, though.

I once again balance on my back legs, take my cello, and walk to the stage. The audience hushes as I come in to view. They’re waiting, begging for me to guide them along the river of sound once again. Generally, I do not find my listeners so eager. Tonight has been a good night. Just as before, I spin toward the audience on center stage, give a nod, and look for—

The seat has been filled.

I drop my bow and blink several times. The face I see is unfamiliar, probably just some patron who forgot their spot, or sought a better view. I could not, in my right mind, be perturbed at this pony, but they’re in my seat. Things don’t make sense when that seat isn’t empty. A fire wells up within my belly, threatening to rise to my head and consume my face. Celestia forbid what would happen if it took my mouth. I could feel a shout build within my lungs, but I am stopped by a gasp. Who it is, I do not know, but it gifts me with a single coherent thought. Your father did not raise a pony who makes a fool of herself! My bow is still on the floor, I realize. I quickly swipe it up and lay it across the strings. This performance will continue; an asinine thing like sentimentality will not stop me!

A Minor fills the hall, silencing the disquiet and dubiety. As I play through Haunchten’s work, the lines of communication between my instrument and my audience open up again. I merely eavesdrop on the conversation. The notes stay true along their path and I keep my breath even. The forehoof that holds the bow wavers not for a second, and the other forehoof swims along the strings as a fish would through water. My music sings in themes, not constrained to the clumsy method of words. This audience will not forget me, or my performance. I shall not let them. Tonight, they witness the refined proficiency of Truestring, Goddess of the Minor Chord!

The remainder of my performance was... tolerable, but I had no more desire to stay here than to jab a splinter in my eye. A brisk trot took me back to my room. I kept my chin up and my chest out on the way there, accepting congratulations and the such from those I passed. I wasted no time in packing up my cello and tuner, but when it came to that accursed scroll, I hesitated. There was a bin the room; I could drop it in there and be done with the thing. But why? What frustrated me so much about the offer?

With a sigh, I collapse into the chair in front of the mirror. This weight had disturbed me long enough. I turn to the mirror and it gazes back at me with a face I thought I’d come to know. Would that little filly be proud of me, the one that always had a seat at my performances, but never showed up? What would she do? I think as I look down to the scroll. Why had she come to watch those musicians perform so long ago? Was it pure fascination?

I pick up the scroll and look back between it and the mirror. If tonight had tried to tell me anything, it was that the filly was gone. Her opinion doesn’t matter. And neither does his.

I grip the scroll tightly in my mouth and stand up. My face has become stoic like a royal guard’s. I sling the cello case over my back, but it doesn’t feel heavy. All the weight is in my jaw.

On my way to the lobby, I run into a familiar stagehand and two fillies. They’re all smiles.

“Fantastic job out there,” the stallion says. The fillies nod their agreement.

I glaze back with hollow eyes and an empty smile, setting the scroll aside for a moment. “Do you know what my cutie mark is?”

The question catches him off-guard. “Uh,” he leans to the side to get a look at my flank, “it’s a treble clef?”

“Indeed. Do you know what the treble clef represents?” I ask coldly.

“That’s easy. You’re good with the cello!”

I look down to the fillies. “Would you agree?”

They nod. That’s all they’ve done tonight. Just nod.

“That’s wrong. The treble clef is the signature of notes in the higher octave. Remember what I told you earlier?” I say, looking at the fillies. They’re unsure, now; their eyes are avoiding me. Of course they forgot, but I do not let up. I lean in towards them and speak in a deeper voice. “The cello plays in the lower octaves. Now why would I have a treble clef, do you think?”

No response.

Grabbing the scroll in a hoof, I stand up straight and canter past them. “Because things don’t go as you plan.”

The trek to the lobby is a short one. It’s still somewhat crowded with members of my former audience, but their faces are insignificant to me. I soon find the one that matters and trot over, throwing the scroll onto a table nearby.

“Quill.” I practically spat the word at him.

It takes him a moment to register my meaning and the moment he does, he produces a quill. “I very glad to see you’ve made the right choice.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “In the interest of integrity, I want to make this clear: we are not friends. We are associates, and reluctant ones at that. I sign this for my own interests.” My voice takes upon a harsh tone not even I am familiar with.

He lets out a deep breath and rolls his eyes. “Whatever you wish, Truestring.”

The contract lies in front of me; the long pink bow that once held it is now lying to the side. I set the quill down on the table and examine the bow. A moment passes as I consider it, then it grasp it and tie it around my neck. I’ve always liked pink, and this thing makes a fitting collar. My associate remains silent.

Slowly, yet precisely, I grab the quill with my mouth. Doubt threatens me again, but it’s a poor opponent, now. Dreams are gone, memories faded and grey. My ambition will blaze across Canterlot till it is naught but ashes, and the world will know me.

The quill stains the paper black with her new name.

Octavia.

Death Doesn't Like Fiddles...

Come and have a seat, kid. Wanna eat? I’m sure I-

…

Stop looking at me like that.

…

Better, now where was I? Oh, right, I’m sure I-

…

Okay, you better take a good look then. Yep, just drink it all in. Make sure I’m burned into your conscience until you see me in the mirror. Alright, you done yet?

Yeah, freaky, isn’t it? Well, I don’t much like your face either, you dumb mook. Look at you, sitting there on your fat-

…

You know what, let’s try this again. Just give me a minute.

…

Alright, here goes.

Come and have a seat, kid. Wanna eat? I’m sure I got something you’d like. Would you care for a drink? How about a cushion? Or maybe a fork in your eye if you don’t stop staring at me, like right this second?

Okay, seriously, it’s like you’ve never met someone like me before. What, is it the mane? Yeah, I know the whole “half-and-half” thing is distracting but can’t you be professional for a few freaking minutes? And do you have any idea how hard it is to keep cobwebs separate from hair? I spent hours trying to get this to not look like I just got out of bed this morning.

Or is it the half-skeleton shtick? Okay, let’s get this straight right now: I didn’t pick this look, kid, it picked me. When you’ve got a job like my kind do, some cards get dealt out with it. I just happened to get the joker on my draw. And don’t you dare think that just because you’re a little taller that you can act like you might be tougher than me, because you ain’t.

I was old before your species was crying for a mother, you dip.

You wanna make a deal or not? Because I’ve got way better things to do than spend any amount of time around here with you. I’ve got five colts, four fillies, three stallions, two mares, and a partridge in a pear tree to visit in Fillydelphia, Manehatten, and Canterlot before the day is out. I got schedules to keep, is what I'm saying.

…

What, you thought my job was easy? Just give me an answer before I lose my temper and-

…

I hate you. So, so very much. No, hold on, words like “hate” can’t even begin to describe it. What's a stronger word than loathe?

Okay, you did some reading or you’ve got a friend who’s much smarter than you. Maybe a rock or a big, steaming mound of-

…

Alright, yes, I admit it. I technically can’t turn you into a pile of ash. The powers-that-be really don’t much like me, it would seem.

Ain’t it ironic? The Reaper can’t actually take life. “Freedom of choice” and all that garbage. And wouldn’t it be my luck that I’ve got the job of being the beginner of life too? So I’m also being represented by a freaking stork, of all things.

Now we get into that whole “circle of life” business, you know, that “every end is really a new beginning” stuff. But it’s just an excuse for someone to double my workload, the jerks, and do you really want me to get me started on this or did you wanna make a deal of some sort today?

…

Good grief, you’re obnoxious. Just sign it or don’t. I really couldn’t care less. Forget about your life story. I just want your signature. Why do you have to make this so difficult?

…

Oh, shut up. You know it'll never actually work as it is. She won’t notice you in a million years. I could make you the last male on earth and she won’t care. You’re too different.

…

Don’t give me that “But she can see me as me” drivel.

…

Because it’s true, that’s why. She sees you as you but she’ll never see you as us.

...

Hurts, don’t it? You ever try and get a date when you look like I do, kid? Yeah, trust me, it ain’t fun. Met this mare in Canterlot once; she tried to hit me with a frying pan.

Oh, then there was this utterly hilarious romp in Manehatten with a father who thought I was an absolute weirdo when I came to see his daughter and then he chased me through the streets for a couple hours. The daughter was kinda freaked out too. Maybe she was the one that hit me with the frying pan, it’s all a little fuzzy, to tell the truth.

Well, long story short, the city guard got involved, and, of course, Celestia had to give her two freaking bits…

Let's just forget it, okay? I could always have it worse. At least I don’t look like you. I might be able to trick a girl into thinking I’m a nice looking fella if I don’t turn to the right, and they’re crazy enough, but you got no good side at all, twerp.

…

Oh cry me a river, build a bridge, and get over it. You’re the one who wanted to make a deal, and you’re failing miserably at even doing that right.

Why can’t you just pick up the quill and sign the thing?

…

Oh, for the love of me, why do I always have the indecisive morons?

I think I need a drink. You want something, or you gonna putz about that too?

…

Water it is, then, you wuss.

Good grief, I don’t wanna do this anymore, kid. I'm sick of it, I really am. I’ve always gotta attend all these funerals and baby showers, and heavens help you if you ever get mixed up. If that happens, even just once, it’s a relations nightmare. You’ll slog through the paperwork for years, and then you get those who think it’s somehow my fault that life ain’t working out like it should. I’m the one who's overworked and underpaid, but where’s my sympathy? I’m the one who’s gotta do the job no one else will sign up for, so where’s my thanks for it?

And, if there are two things I can no longer stand, it's infants and old folks. They both cry too much. Infants especially get freaked out, I don’t have the most soothing face to look at when you take that first breath after all, as you’ve likely deduced Sherlock, and I also haven’t found a lot of old folks who’re all that thrilled to see me when the day finally comes around. There’s always all this sobbing and crying, if not from them, then from some clingy relative.

I can’t even begin to tell you how many duels for someone’s soul I’ve had to go through; I don’t even like the fiddle.

…

Shows what you know, kid. Nobody ever truly wants to leave. Even those who think they’ve made their peace don’t really wanna go. And those who’re crazy enough for some reason to think they wanna go don’t really wanna go; they just wanna be somewhere that ain’t here.

But they can't ever actually face the likelihood that this is all they get. They’d be less inclined to waste that privilege to exist if they saw what I see everyday. And even for those that really want to live, and cling like flies to it, we still all gotta go someday.

Well, except for the unlucky few.

…

Yeah, like me, kid.

…

Don’t even think about it. I don’t need your pity, you schmuck, and we’re nothing alike. Your girl troubles ain’t got nothing on my work.

…

I can’t get a mare either, but if that’s all I had to worry about, I’d skip down Canterlot Mainstreet everyday and sing like a little filly at the top of my lungs until the Guard arrested me for severely disturbing the populace.

Care to try again, oh so horribly wounded one?

…

Wow, you’re a persistent louse.

…

No, no, by all means, please continue. I really wanna see where you take this.

…

Can I laugh now?

…

How about now?

…

Oh, let me play you a tune on the world’s most tear-stained violin.

You know what, on second thought, let’s scrap that idea. It’s too much like a fiddle. I’ve told you how much I hate fiddles, right? I wouldn’t make a murderer play them. Holy cats, do I hate fiddles.

And drinking anything that’s colored. It always leaks and I’m getting really tired of all the stains. You can’t ever command respect when you’ve got purple dribbled down your neck and chest because you’re missing half your lips.

By the way, yes, I caught you staring at me. Again.

...

No, that red stain on my ribcage came from five days ago. I felt in the mood for punch. And thanks for reminding me why I hate drinking punch.

You know, I also hate anyone that takes forever to decide whether to sign a contract or not. So would you care to do it now, or should I wait a few hundred years while you twiddle the hours away? Because I’m really busy. You know that, right? That I’m really busy?

And while I can’t personally make you into a pile of gelatin, because all the justice in this universe forbid I get something fun for once, that doesn’t mean I can’t dump you next to a pack of rabid chickens and laugh myself silly as you try to decide whether to run or not.

…

What, you think I hid some fine print in there? I don’t do that kid. What you see is what you get.

I don’t do that “mu ha ha” junk while twirling half a mustache. It’s stupid. And it would look stupid. And you’re stupid for even thinking I’m that stupid. When I make a deal, I make a deal; I don’t hide anything under the table and you should be grateful for that, you little snot.

But, maybe I got it all wrong. Maybe you don’t really love this mare. I know I could never stand her. I think I’d rather try to gnaw the legs off a hungry pack of Ursa Major’s than spend five seconds with that ditz.

…

Oh, now we grow a spine.

If that’s what you think, then sign it. Talk is cheap and I wanna see some proof. Make me believe you, even for a second, and maybe I’ll take it back.

…

I thought so. It’s easy to say you love her, but when push comes to shove, I guess you’ll hide behind your excuses like anyone else.

…

In a fair world? Yes, she could love you and you could be together no matter what. But take a guess where we live?

It’s the real world and it ain’t fair. No matter how you slice it, the way things are going is only a great recipe for a kinda creepy tragedy. Why it’s almost… Shakespearean.

Shoot, you found me, didn’t you? How much more dramatic could it get? Deals with all-powerful beings, all in the name of forbidden love, and a choice that must be made which may, or may not, end in happiness for all involved.

That’s if you quit stalling and sign it.

…

No, I can’t guarantee it’ll actually work. That’s your job. I’m just giving you an opportunity.

Oh, don’t look at me like that. I never said I would make her fall in love with you. And would you really want me to? C’mon, would you really want me to make her fall in love with you?

…

Nice to see we can agree on something. Now, are you going to sign?

…

You didn’t even read the freaking thing?

…

Oh for crying out loud. I sent this to you days ago.

…

Very well, dark-bargains-for-dummies it is.

I grant you a brand new body and you get your shot at a happy ending. You know, big wedding, kisses exchanged, vows of until I do you part, that whole crock of baloney. I don’t know, or really care, if you get it, but I can guarantee you’ll have an actual chance as opposed to now, where the only way you’re getting anywhere is if I remove her eyes and ears for you.

And make her swim in a vat of dry ice with her mouth open. And take away her sense of smell.

I hope you get what I’m driving at.

…

I really hope this chick doesn’t have a working brain cell, or you’re in some serious trouble.

…

Fine.

Right. Now. You. Have. No. Future. Together.

Not. Now. Not. Ever.

Can. I. Make. This. Any. Clearer. For. You?

…

Oh look, some progress.

Alright, so, you'll get your body. If you think you can win the heart of yon hopefully very dim damsel, then good for you. If not, I still don’t care. The end result is the same: when your time comes, I get you.

I’m ready to go into partial retirement, kid. I wanna kick back some, maybe have a nice vacation for a couple days when I can.

I could finally enjoy a bath, and not have it smell like something crawled in the attic and forgot to leave. Or not have to clean cobwebs off my chair, or untangle it from my mane, or pull it out of my suit every day.

Oh mercy, I could finally wear a suit and not look like a lopsided dope. And I could drink punch again.

I’ll still hate the fiddle, though. Freaking fiddles. Someone needs to burn all the fiddles in the world. I should find the idiot that invented the fiddle and roast him on the bonfire of fiddles.

…

Sorry about that. Look, you want a chance or no?

…

Like I said, I can’t give you an absolute and I can’t change the rules of the game. All I can do is slip you an ace when no-one’s looking. You’ll still need to draw the rest of winning hand.

…

Of course I won’t try to interfere. I’m a jerk, not a sociopath.

…

Like I haven’t heard that before.

…

Kiss your mother with that mouth?

Don’t make me regret penciling you in today, because I can take away this deal whenever I wish. As a matter of fact, I wanna hear you make a choice in the next ten seconds or I’m going to boot you out of here so hard, your malformed great-grandchildren will have hoofmarks.

We’ve wasted enough time dancing 'round the bush and I’m about ready to pop, you weasel.

…

Nope. I’m counting. Ten.

…

Nine. Then make your choice. Eight.

…

I, seven, don’t, six, care.

…

Five. Four.

…

And a three-a and a two-a.

…

Very good. You might wanna avoid walking the wire like that in the future.

Here’s your quill.

…

Why do you think there isn’t any ink in there?

…

If you hadn’t finally decided to sign this, I might resent that. Just prick somewhere and use it.

…

Because I like seeing you bleed, and I’m kinda hoping you hit your jugular.

…

Oh, boo hoo, you don’t like me. I’ll build you a boat to ride my oceans of tears.

…

Finally.

Give me a second to check the signature.

…

Hey, you’ve been making me wait all day. You can obviously spare the time.

...

Okay, everything’s in order. Come with me, kid, and we’ll see about getting you all swanked up for tonight. I know some real lady-killers. Maybe we can get you a nice black, I hear that’s always popular, though a very deep shade of red would look rather good with your eyes.

We’ll get rid of the slits, of course-

…

Oh fine, we’ll stick with that gaudy purple and green, then. It’s your body, not mine. Sheesh, let’s hope for your sake this girl doesn't actually have a sense of fashion.

THE END.

Heart

Cheerilee tried to hide her frown as she passed by Scootaloo’s desk, placing the math test face-down before trotting back toward her desk. Scootaloo stared at the slightly wrinkled paper for a moment before cringing and cautiously flipping it over.

A deep crimson “F” and a frowny face sticker glared up at her; she’d scored only fifty-two percent. One quick quiver of her lower lip was all that escaped before she slumped down in her seat, trying to hide from the world. The creaky old wood of her chair let out a groan that would have drawn attention if her classmates were paying any. They were not; all around her, fillies and colts either buzzed with confidence or crumpled up and threw away their exams without a care, but not her. She’d failed too miserably to pretend to be proud of herself, but she couldn’t shrug it off, either. Scootaloo sighed, grateful for the fact that nopony was looking at her, but not much else.

At the end of the month, everypony in class would be going on a week long camping trip in the White Tail Woods with only the flimsiest pretense of it being educational and all the intent in the world to have fun. Rock climbing and archery and swimming and a dozen other things would reward the students for all of their hard work. Everypony would revel in an experience they would fondly remember for years—except of course for those dumb enough to be left behind to study.

A tap on her shoulder snapped her to attention and she turned around to see what Sweetie Belle wanted, managing to morph her sullen face into a relatively bright mask. “What’s up?” she asked.

“How’d you do?” Sweetie Belle asked cheerfully.

“Oh. Um...” Scootaloo trailed off. Dropping the act and grimacing heavily, she rubbed a hoof against the back of her neck. “Not good.”

Sweetie Belle frowned and turned her gaze downard. “Oh.”

“I think you and Apple Bloom probably shouldn’t count on me going with you.”

“Well it’s not over yet!” Sweetie Belle chirped. She put a hoof on Scootaloo’s shoulder and offered a reassuring smile. “If you do really, really good on the next one, I think you could still make it. Your grade isn’t un... um, unsalav...” Her face scrunched up and her tongue poked out of her mouth as she concentrated. “Unsalvageable,” she finally said, beaming with pride.

Just then, the bell rang and the classroom roared to life.

“Oh, remember class, we’ve got a spelling test coming up soon, so make sure you study hard!” Cheerilee yelled over her students’ conversations. “Class is dismissed!”

A veritable stampede barreled across the room and out the door while Cheerilee collected her things and hummed a jaunty tune.

“Ooh, maybe we could get studying cutie marks!”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes.

“So, what do y’all wanna do today?” Apple Bloom asked as she approached her friends.

“Aww, come on Scootaloo, I’m sure—”

Anger sparked in the little pegasus’s eyes. “Yeah. You’re sure. Because you’re a friggin’ dictionary,” she barked, prodding her friend sharply with a hoof before folding her limbs over her chest and her face into a pout. “Do you think I want to fail? Don’t you think I’m already trying hard?”

Cheerilee paused and looked over at the quarreling Crusaders. “Girls? Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine, Miss Cheerilee,” Scootaloo shouted toward the front of the room. She turned back to face Sweetie Belle, but refused to make eye contact. “Sorry I snapped at you like that.”

Scootaloo slid the paper off the desk and into her saddlebag where she couldn’t see it, then she slid herself out of her chair and began marching toward the door. “I’ll see you girls tomorrow. I’ve got stuff to do.”

Sweetie Belle took a step after her, but stopped herself. Her forehead creased with worry, she turned to Apple Bloom and asked “Do you think she’ll get to go?”

Trotting swiftly toward home, Scootaloo stopped when she heard a voice calling from the side of the road.

“You looked upset today, blank-flank. Still mad you can’t ride your scooter near the school?”

She scowled. “I don’t have time for you right now, you stuck-up little—”

“Hey, no need to bite my head off. Chickens are made to be awkward tomcolts with no talent, not like, carnivores or whatever.”

“Just leave me alone,” she sighed. “I have enough to deal with right now without you making things worse.”

A wicked grin crept across Diamond Tiara’s face. “You know... I might have something that could totally clear up your problem.”

Scootaloo turned around and raised an eyebrow. “What do you know, huh?”

“Y’know, if you get like, a hundred percent on that spelling test, your grade would probably be high enough,” Diamond Tiara said, stepping toward Scootaloo.

“So what if you’re right? How am I gonna get a perfect score?”

Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes. “You really are dense,” she said before leaning in next to Scootaloo and pressing her muzzle up to Scootaloo’s ear. “I have the answers,” she whispered.

Jolting backwards, Scootaloo stammered, “C-c-cheat? No way!” She stood straight and defiant, glaring at Diamond Tiara. “I may be a lot of things, but I am not a cheater. And besides, my grades aren’t that bad that I need to be perfect to fix them.”

Diamond Tiara stared silently at her for a few seconds before replying, “Suit yourself.” Then she turned around and turned her nose up. “I’ll see you at the campsite,” she said before looking back and snickering. “Or not,” she giggled, sashaying away.

Scootaloo’s nostrils flared. She thought she smelled a dying campfire.

The minute hand on the clock perched just to the left of the twelve, and Scootaloo bit her lip. Her mind blanked completely. She grabbed her pencil and hastily scrawled a guess only a moment before the clock ticked forward.

Cheerilee glanced up at the clock and cleared her throat. “Okay, class, time’s up. Everypony pass your papers to the left and then forward.”

Shoving the spelling test away from herself as though it were plagued, Scootaloo’s head thudded into her desk. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, filling her quaking lungs with musty air from the heavily worn wood.

With the last of the tests collected in Diamond Tiara’s hooves, Cheerilee trotted forward, picked up the stack, and set it in a wire-basket marked “IN” before blinking at it. “Actually, class, how about you all take a short recess while I grade these? That way, you won’t have to wait until Monday to know how you did!” She peeked up at the clock again. “Don’t get too excited, though. It’ll be a very short one.”

Cheers erupted. Fillies and colts clambered out of their seats and raced for the sunshine. Scootaloo dragged herself out of her seat and plodded across the floor without a hint of enthusiasm. Stepping into the fresh spring air, she kept her head low and her eyes lower as she made her way past the playground and toward the old oak tree. She dropped against the base of it and sighed.

“C’mon, Scoots, I’m sure ya did fine,” Apple Bloom called from nearby. “This one wasn’t so bad, an’ ya definitely studied good and hard.”

“Maybe,” she mumbled, lifting her head and making eye contact with the first pony since that morning. “I mean, I think I got most of ‘em right, but I know I screwed up a few. Especially that last one.”

Sweetie Belle finished her approach and smiled sheepishly. “Unsalvageable?”

“Yeah. That,” Scootaloo droned, letting her head fall back against the soft grass under the shade of the solid oak. She curled into the shadow of the tree, shunning the sun’s warm light.

“U-n-s-a-l-v-a-g-e-a-b-l-e,” Sweetie stated firmly.

Mouthing each of the letters in slow motion and nodding her head after each recitation, Scootaloo’s lips curved upwards a bit and she rose up on her hooves. “I think... I think I got that one,” she mused.

Apple Bloom scooped her into a tight hug. “See? It’ll be fine, so stop wallowin’ so much. Ya ain’t been the same lately.”

“Heh... I know. I’m sorry, girls, I just... my grades weren’t the best and I was really worried I’d have to stay behind,” she said, suppressing a sniffle.

Sweetie Belle joined the embrace, and together the three fillies brightened up the chilly, dark patch of shade, only to be interrupted by Cheerilee’s curt shouts.

“Recess is over, class!”

Mutters of disappointment emanated across the schoolyard as the reverie was cut short and the foals marched solemnly back into the classroom. Cheerilee began pacing up and down the rows of desks, depositing one slip of paper on each. Scootaloo shivered with wide eyes as Cheerilee’s stack dwindled and the distance closed. Her eyebrows rose hopefully when Cheerilee paused at her, holding on to the last test. Cheerilee only briefly made eye contact before darting her gaze away and sliding Scootaloo’s fate face down in front of her. She trotted briskly away.

With trembling hooves, Scootaloo rotated the paper over so that she could discover her destiny. Her body shuddered as if wracked by a sob, but she made no sound save a tiny squeak of disappointment at the paltry red number and accompanying frowny face sticker in the corner. She immediately folded it over on itself to shield herself from the harsh reality of the situation, but it was too late.

Cheerilee rapped a hoof against the chalkboard to focus the attentions of her pupils. “Class, here is the schedule we’ll be following for the rest of this month. As you can see, we don’t have any ordinary field trips or guest speakers planned, but we do have our fantastic camping trip to look forward to. Just don’t forget that there is one more math test next week.” She smiled and looked out over the classroom. “Now, let’s go over the answers to the spelling test we just finished...”

Scootaloo’s heart raced. She recalled what scores she could and focused with all her might on crunching the numbers correctly as she added up her current grade. With a lot of hard work and more than a bit of luck, it just might have been possible for an excellent score on the last math test to push her grade high enough. The more she went over it, the more excited she became to realize that it was possible. Finishing her arithmetic decathlon, her shoulders sagged. Ninety-eight percent. She would need a nigh-perfect score to make the cutoff, and no matter how hard she studied she was certain she could never reach such a peak.

Cheerilee kept smiling as she finished reviewing the spelling words and switched to a lecture about history. Scootaloo couldn’t bring herself to pay any attention, instead spiraling around the ruins of dreams dashed by failure.

Hardly noticing that class had ended until Apple Bloom shook her out of her stupor, Scootaloo stashed her spelling test in the dark, forgotten corner of her saddlebag as she stood up.

“You comin’, Scootaloo?”

She looked to the front of the room where Cheerilee happily hummed, shuffling papers about. “In a minute. Go on without me. I’ll... I’ll catch up.”

Apple Bloom shrugged and turned to Sweetie Belle. The two began chatting idly as they made for the door.

Scootaloo approached the teacher’s desk with trepidation. “Miss Cheerilee?”

“Oh, hello there. What can I do for you, Scootaloo?” she asked, setting aside other tasks and giving her full attention to her student.

“Um, about the camping trip...” Scootaloo said, scuffing a hoof against the floor. “What would I need on that math test to make it?”

Cheerilee leaned down and rested a hoof on Scootaloo’s shoulder. “I know you’re concerned, and I would love to help, but I’m afraid I can’t do much. I can bend and round the numbers a little, but I don’t think I can let you go with less than a ninety-five percent.” She frowned. “I’m sorry.”

Scootaloo fought through another sob-like retch, forcing down the moisture threatening to bead up in the corners of her eyes. “O-okay,” she said, faking a smile. “Thank you.”

“I know you’re actually a very smart little filly, Scootaloo. I believe you can do it if you apply yourself.”

She nodded once and turned around, dropping her smile but holding her head up until she’d made it out of eyesight. She wandered out of the building and stared wistfully into the sky. Her introspection was interrupted by a loud cough, and she turned to see Diamond Tiara leaning against a fence.

“So. I hear a rumor that you’re not going to be coming with us on the camping trip. Is that, like, true?”

“What do you want?” she barked.

“Like, duh,” Diamond Tiara replied, “for you to come, too.”

Scootaloo squinted and wrinkled her eyebrows. “You expect me to buy that?”

Diamond Tiara laughed. “I guess not. Look, blank-flank, I can help you. Do you want to go or not?”

Scootaloo’s glare answered the question.

“I can get you the grade you need, and then you can come. All you have to do is promise to do me three small favors.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know yet,” Diamond Tiara said with a shrug, “but they’ll be little things like having to say something to somepony. You won’t have to fight or give me anything of yours. No blood, no bits, nothing like that. Just words or small gestures.”

“And how exactly does this even work?”

Diamond Tiara waved a dismissive hoof. “Oh, that part’s like, totally easy. Miss Cheerilee always has everypony pass their tests to the left and to the front.”

Scootaloo blinked. “And?”

With a roll of her eyes, Diamond Tiara sighed. “You really are dumb. I sit all the way in the front and all the way on the left. Since I’m handling a bunch of papers at once, nopony will notice if I shuffle one or two around a little. I’ll totally turn in a cheat-sheet with your name on it instead of your miserable answers. So come on, what do you say?”

A gust of wind howled by and Scootaloo shivered. “I don’t know...”

Sunlight glinted off Diamond Tiara’s painfully white teeth as she smiled. The expected perfection of her smile was replaced by an almost intentional crookedness to the smug grin. “Do you really think you can make it without me?”

“Oh, and before you all go, I have yesterday’s math test graded. If you would all line up single-file near the door, I can hand them out as you leave. Congratulations to those of you who’ll be coming camping on Monday! I’m happy to report that most of you made it, but if you didn’t, don’t despair. These last several exams have been particularly tough.”

Scootaloo shot out of her seat, coming to a stop just in front of Cheerilee. She swallowed a lump in her throat as a nervous sweat began beading up on her forehead. Cheerilee smiled as she hoofed Scootaloo her test, and Scootaloo blurred out the door and around a corner. She slammed herself up against a wall and squeezed her eyes shut, holding the paper out in front of her and fighting to slide one eye open. When she finally managed to peer through the gap in her eyelids, she flew through momentary despair, confusion, then joy.

She almost cried at discovering she did not score one hundred percent and the accompanying gold star, but quickly swapped to bewilderment. Ninety-eight percent and a smiling flower. After a moment of contemplation, all trace of negativity drained out of her as she realized she’d made it. Her grade was secured. Squealing with delight, Scootaloo shoved the paper into her bag with the others and tore around the corner, only to come skidding to a stop in front of Diamond Tiara.

“I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you were right. I’ve gotta get to the clubhouse. I can’t wait tell the Crusaders the good news!” she said, leaning into the first step of a gallop, only to be held back by a hoof.

“Not so fast. There are two sides to the bargain, you know.”

“Oh. Um, yeah. Did you... am I doing one of your favors now?”

Diamond Tiara nodded. “I need you to walk past Snips and Snails and say something about how easy that math test was. Loud enough for them to hear you.”

“That’s... that’s it?” Scootaloo asked, her face screwed into a quizzical expression of disbelief. “That’s the first favor?”

“Didn’t I say they’d just be little things?”

“Heh. I guess you did,” Scootaloo replied. “Alright then. You want the other two favors now?”

“Nope. I’ll let you know when it’s time.” Diamond Tiara smiled that same unpleasantly crooked smile. “Just go do like I told you, and then you’re free to go get covered in tree sap—or whatever it is you and your friends like to do.”

“Okay then. Guess I’ll go do that. Listen I, um, I never thought I’d be saying this to you of all ponies, but... thank you,” Scootaloo said with a blush.

“No no, thank you. Now go on. You have a job to do.”

Scootaloo quickly spotted Snips and Snails just ahead, adjusting her course so that she’d pass by them on her way and waving back at Diamond Tiara as she set off. Snips and Snails were both trotting slowly down the road when she caught up to them.

“Jee, I can’t believe how simple that math test was. Even I got an ‘A’ this time!” she shouted, badly failing to mimic natural musing with her comically overstated line; she had wanted to be certain she was both heard and understood. Continuing on down the road, Scootaloo barely noticed that Snips’ and Snails’ hoofsteps stopped.

The lake gleamed in the gloriously sunny center of the campsite—almost as brightly as Scootaloo’s sparkling eyes. She breathed in the scents of pine and dew and crisp, clean air as she set hoof into the beginning of the beautiful week. She was melting in deliciously contradictory relaxation and anticipation when she noticed Sweetie Belle waving her over toward a circle of stones that all the other ponies seemed to be gathering in. Cantering over to join her friend, she glanced around and felt a pang of sorrow that she couldn’t place.

“Welcome, students!” Cheerilee exclaimed. “We have an exciting...”

Scootaloo tuned her out as the source of her unease began to come into focus. Something was missing She turned to Sweetie Belle and asked, “Where’s Apple Bloom?”

Sweetie Belle smiled. “Oh, she’s picking apples; there’re a few apple trees over there,” she said, pointing off to the west, “and she said she couldn’t leave without getting a few.”

“Oh, okay.” Furrowing her brow, Scootaloo scanned the circle once again before it clicked. “What about Snips and Snails?”

“Huh?” Sweetie Belle tilted her head to one side. “I don’t think they got to come.”

Frowning at this, Scootaloo scrambled through a thicket of unusually thorny feelings. Why had Diamond Tiara made her say that to them? If she knew they had failed...

Her stomach churned. She knew Diamond Tiara couldn’t ever have been a decent pony, but that kind of cruelty was a new low. Kicking a pony when they’re down and insulting them that harshly in one cold, calculated careless utterance was awful. Scootaloo felt nauseous.

No blood, no bits, nothing like that.

The sick feeling in the pit of her stomach quickly burned away in the fire of a freshly born anger. Diamond Tiara was much worse than just “not-a-good-pony.” Her eyes met the bully’s, and she saw a mirthful gaze staring back. It disgusted her.

“Alright. So everypony meet back here in one hour, okay?”

Scootaloo shook herself out of it and whipped her head around to find all the foals dispersing across the grounds. “I’ll be right back,” she said, making a beeline for the spoiled filly with the unsettling smile. She caught her alone on a fringe of trees just east of the lake.

“What’s wrong with you?!” she shouted.

“Huh? What’re you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!”

“Oh, that?” Diamond Tiara yawned. “You’re the one who said it.” She smiled. “Not me.”

Stamping a hoof, Scootaloo growled, “That’s a load of horseapples!”

“So what if it is, huh? What are you gonna do?”

“You’re awful! I’ll... I could tell Miss Cheerilee!”

Diamond Tiara giggled, then chuckled, then doubled over laughing. “No you... ha ha... no you can’t! Heeheehee... you totally can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

Her laughter subsiding, Diamond Tiara stood up straight through a few more waves. “Because then I would tell her you cheated.”

“You... you!”

“Not to mention, you still owe me two more favors.”

Scootaloo shook her head vigorously and took two steps back. “No way. Nuh-uh. I’m not going to help you hurt any more ponies!”

Smiling that crooked smile and holding back another laugh, Diamond Tiara leveled a chilling glare at Scootaloo. “Yes you will. It doesn’t matter if you tell the teacher or if you tell your friends or if you break your promise; if you cross me I’ll tell Miss Cheerilee what a bad little filly you’ve been.”

Horror dawned on Scootaloo’s face as she realized the depth of her predicament. Her jaw worked futilely as her brain failed to retort and her stomach sank.

Diamond Tiara slithered up to her. “Look, it’s only two more, and then you’re free to go. Just do what I tell you and everything’ll be fine.”

Scootaloo gulped and her eyes quivered.

“You know, I think now’s a good time to call in the second favor.” That terrible smile crawled across her face again. “What do you think?”

Tearing her gaze away and blinking away a few drops of moisture Scootaloo deflated. “What do I have to do?”

“Push Twist into the lake.”

“WHAT?”

“You heard me!”

“I can’t do that! That wasn’t... that’s not part of the deal! You said no blood!”

“Relaaax. She knows how to swim. There’s a lifeguard on duty, too. And besides... how could a little dip make her bleed?”

Scootaloo closed her eyes and took a deep breath. A harmless prank. Nopony would suffer any lasting damage. “That, one more thing, and then you swear I’m free? Those are the three favors, the deal is finished, and I never have to talk to you again?”

“Cross my heart.”

“How can I trust that you even have one?”

Tapping a hoof against her chin, Diamond Tiara sat and thought. “How about I give you some ammo you can use against me if I go back on my word?”

“Yeah right, like you’d put yourself in a bad position...”

“It’s not a bad position at all. It totally gives you a way to trust me so we can complete our deal without any problems.”

Scootaloo’s wings flared and her coat stood on end, alive with electric anger. “And how do you know I won’t turn around and use it against you anyway? Huh? Did you think about that?”

Diamond Tiara giggled again. “Don’t make me spend all day laughing. Of course you wouldn’t. You’re like, way too goody-goody for that.”

“Fine,” Scootaloo spat. “Give it to me.”

“I’m terrified of heights,” she stated flatly.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Scootaloo lowered her wings and closed her eyes again, exhaling a long breath. “What choice do I even have?”

Diamond Tiara slapped a hoof on her back. “That’s the spirit!”

She shuddered and spun about, trotting limply toward the lake. As luck would have it, Twist happened to be within shoving distance already. Scootaloo steeled herself and swallowed a fresh lump in her throat. The largest yet. At least this time there were no conditions on how it had to be done. She decided in swift order to pretend it was an accident.

Aiming herself at her hapless classmate, she tensed her legs and mouthed an apology. Then she rocketed into her with a tremendous slam and pinballed away toward the opposite edge of the woods, tears streaming down her face.

She heard a scream and a series of sputters. She couldn’t close her ears to the rotten fruits of her labor, and she couldn’t bring herself to face another pony just then. So she continued to run, until she was well esconced in the woods, just barely able to see out into the clearing, coming to rest at the foot of an apple tree.

“Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom called, squinting at the shuddering heap on the ground. “What are y’all doin’ over here?”

Rather than answer, Scootaloo covered her head with her hooves and moistened the dirt with her tears.

“...Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom asked, pensively approaching her and laying a hoof on her. “Are y’all alright?”

Choking back a wide enough space in her sobs to speak, she responded. “No. I’m not alright,” she said, the sound muffled.

Apple Bloom stroked her softly. “What’s wrong? I’m sure we can—”

Her head snapped up and fresh streams poured down her face. “No! We can’t! I pushed Twist into the lake!”

“What?! Scoot, why?”

“Diamond Tiara told me to do it! She was gonna... I wasn’t gonna get to come, and she... I couldn’t do it, Apple Bloom! No matter how hard I studied, there was no way, and she helped me! But I never should’ve listened to her because now if I don’t do what she was she’ll tell Miss Cheerilee that I cheated and—”

“That’s not good enough! Gettin’ caught cheating is one thing, but Twist can’t swim!”

Wailing twice as loud as before, Scootaloo fell to the ground once more and let her heart spill out around her.

Apple Bloom stood and glanced out toward the lake. “I’m... I gotta go see if she’s alright or help pull her outta the lake or somethin’! Don’t y’all go nowhere, I’ll be back!” she shouted before galloping away and leaving Scootaloo alone on the forest floor with her tears.

A series of short silences, punctuated by gagging, coughing, wretching sobs echoed throughout the lonely stretch of woods. An apple came tumbling off of a small, ripe pile at the base of a tree and thudded softly against Scootaloo’s side. She blinked and stared blearily in the direction it had come from to find a hateful pink monster standing smugly behind the apples.

“Before you say anything, I want you to know that I totally didn’t know Twist couldn’t swim. Swear. Also, though, she’s pretty much okay. They’re still keeping an eye on her because she’s unconscious, but she’s out of the lake and she’s breathing. So, y’know, no blood.”

Scootaloo only cried in place. Diamond Tiara smiled her crooked little smile.

“Anyways, I got a real good one for your third favor—”

In an instant, Scootaloo was off the ground and in her face. “NO! I won’t do it! I won’t hurt any more ponies; I don’t care what you say or who you say it to, it’s not worth pretending I have any honor to hold onto if it means I have to... have to...”

She patted Scootaloo. “There, there. I thought this might happen, so I went ahead and got one extra piece of insurance lined up for you. Do you have any idea where Sweetie Belle went?”

Scootaloo’s jaw dropped. Her pupils disappeared. Her body shook. “No...”

“The thing is, I think she might be lost. Lots of trails snaking through the forest that all look the same... it could happen to anypony.”

“Why?” she screamed. “Why me? What did I ever do to you?!”

“Does it matter? I’m a bully, right? This is what I do.”

“I know you’re a bully, but... but this is too much, even for you! You were always a jerk, but I never realized just how evil you could be! This isn’t right! How can... how can anypony be this cold? This... this heartless?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Diamond Tiara sneered and turned her back on Scootaloo. “A heart is a weak point. All it’ll ever do is hold you back.” When she looked back over her shoulder, the sobbing mess of a pony was gone.

She’d done enough damage already for the stupidest and most selfish reasons imaginable, and Scootaloo would have no more suffering on her conscience. Blurring frantically through the woodland trails, calling out for Sweetie Belle, she didn’t notice or care when night fell. She continued her search by the light of the moon and the stars, galloping over dozens of miles of wilderness. She plowed through foliage without regard for the ever increasing bruises and scrapes developing all along her body as she cried and cried out, desperate to find her friend.

Finally one of her calls was answered by a shaking, cracking voice. “Scootaloo?”

“Sweetie Belle!” she cried, her eyes lighting up and her heart soaring.

“I was so scared... Silver Spoon said she was going to show me—”

Not stopping to converse, Scootaloo continued her sprint into a fierce, tackling hug that sent the two of them rolling across the ground. “I’m... I’m so, so, sorry!” she sobbed into Sweetie Belle’s dirty, matted coat. “It’s all my fault! Please, please don’t hate me!” she managed between bouts of choking back waves of tears.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I was just—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Scootaloo interrupted her again. “I just need you to know that I’m more sorry than you can ever know for getting you dragged into this. Now that I know you’re safe, I’ll take all the detention and grounding and gruel for dinner I have to, but Diamond Tiara isn’t going to get away with this!”

Sweetie Belle’s eyes softened, and she tightened her end of the embrace. “That’s... that’s really great, Scootaloo, but um... how do we get back?”

Scootaloo released her hold and stood up, offering a hoof to help Sweetie Belle stand. “I’m not sure, but between the two of us we can figure something out. The constellations can be used to figure out directions, right?” She smiled warmly. “The situation isn’t unsalav—”

“Unsalvageable,” Sweetie Belle corrected.

“Right. Okay, so we know the White Tail Woods are to the west of Ponyville, so for sure if we go east we can get out of the forest, right?”

Sweetie Belle nodded. “Right. I think east is that way,” she said, pointing a hoof off into one of four identically dim directions.

“Awesome!”

“Well...”

“Not awesome?”

“There’s a big cliff over there that I don’t think we can climb down.”

Squinting into the darkness, Scootaloo made out a craggy ledge that did indeed look too steep to traverse. She swiveled her head to the left and the right to see if it would be possible to go around, but her attention snapped back behind her when she heard another voice shouting.

“Diamond, I found them!”

Two sets of hooves pounded viciously toward her and the shadowy shapes approaching resolved into Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara.

“I’m totally glad we found you two. Cheerilee is freaking out, you know. You shouldn’t wander off on your own like that.”

“It’s over, Diamond! I found Sweetie Belle, Twist isn’t dead, and I don’t care what my punishment is; I’m taking you down with me!”

Diamond Tiara faked a shiver. “Ooh, I’m shaking. You’ve got nothing on me. It’s your word against mine, and I happen to have a rich, powerful family backing me up.”

“She’s got my word, too!” Sweetie Belle shouted, standing tall and firm.

“Great! I’ve also got Silver, here. So it’s two against two and we’re back to where we started. Do you really, I mean really think you can win? I’m better than you. I’ve played you like a fiddle from the start,” her lips curved, as if to smile, but the ghastly expression that washed over her face could hardly be compared to anything so positive as a smile. “Do you want to know the very best part about all of this?”

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo glared at her while Silver Spoon drooped to one side.

“You never even needed me. Do you know why you didn’t get a perfect score?” she asked. “It’s because I didn’t touch your last math test; you got the grade you needed all on your own. You’ve been serving me for no reason at all!” she cackled as a gust of wind blew through the clearing and a sheet of rain started to fall. “In fact, I changed your answers on the tests before that to take you down a peg! When you got all worried about your grades and started studying all the time, it totally worked. You got way smart all of a sudden, and I just dragged you back down.”

Silver Spoon’s sudden glare could burn a hole through steel. “Is that what happened? You know my parents grounded me, right?”

“You were going to go to Canterlot without me,” Diamond Tiara seethed.

“Only because you were grounded!”

“Like, duh?”

“I had plans! I was going to—”

“Yawn. What does it matter?”

“Rrrgh, you... you jerk!” Silver Spoon shouted as she tackled Diamond Tiara. The two of them sailed toward the cliff before crashing to the ground and rolling around in a sweaty struggle. Silver Spoon managed to pin Diamond Tiara for a moment before she rolled and bucked her into the air.

Silver Spoon landed with a thud on the rain-slick surface and scrambled to her hooves, panting. “We’re done,” she huffed. “I’m going to side with these two when they talk to Cheerilee. Three against one.”

“What?” she wheezed.

“I’m not your friend any more, Diamond.”

“Pfft,” she spat. “You never were. Opening your weak points is stupid.”

Scootaloo’s voice dripped with visceral contempt. “You’re a monster.”

“And you’re an idiot!”

Scootaloo shook her head. “I can’t even hate you. All I can do is feel sorry for you because you have nothing. Give it up.”

“What do you know?!” she screamed, dashing toward Scootaloo with thrashing limbs. She slipped on the muddy rock beneath her and went careening over the edge of the cliff, grasping the lip with her front hooves. Her eyes went wide and her lip trembled. Instantly, deep wells of tears sprung up in both of her eyes as she began to wail.

Scootaloo dove toward her and grabbed her left hoof, but was smacked away by Diamond Tiara’s panicked flailing. “She’s afraid of heights,” she whispered to herself before shouting, “Both of you, help me! We have to pull her up!”

But as she thrust a hoof forward to try again, a gust of wind knocked the awful filly loose and she began to plummet, going completely still with shock. Darkness consumed the bottom of the ravine, so how far she’d fall was a mystery.

“No!” Scootaloo yelled, diving over the edge and straightening her body into an arrow. She sliced through the air and quickly caught up to her target, inching just past her before spreading herself out to slow her fall and catching the filly in her hooves. Instinctively, her wings spread as well and she was more than surprised to find them flapping, seemingly of their own accord. More startling still was that her fall was slowing noticeably.

Her tired body ached and the muscles in her wings screamed in protest at trying to carry the weight of two souls when they’d not yet mastered one, but she pushed her way through the pain and strained and strained and strained herself until, as if by a miracle, she blinked and found herself gasping for air on the platform above, practically drowning in the torrent of rain splashing into her open mouth. She sputtered and coughed, turning her head to the side to avoid taking in more water.

A sound like thunder roared over the horizon. One pony, then two, then a dozen all surged out of the trees and surrounded the fillies, assessing their conditions and shouting that they’d found them.

Diamond Tiara blinked several times before uttering one word: “Why?”

The ponies attending to her tried asking questions, but received no answer as she only repeated her pressing inquiry.

Scootaloo shifted her gaze toward the pony whose life she’d saved. “Because—” she coughed “—whether you’re good or bad, you’re still a pony,” she stated, coughing again as punctuation.

“Why?”

“Because I have a heart.”

A sparkling light danced across Scootaloo’s flank, and she fell asleep, exhausted from the ordeal.

Appletheosis

Applejack ducked under a thick, low-hanging branch and straightened her legs, lifting the obstacle up and away from the beaten dirt path. “There ya go, sis. See if you can scoot under there.”

Applebloom glanced at the thick forest to either side of the road. “Are you sure about this? Isn’t there an easier way through?”

“Them’s the breaks, kiddo. If there was an easier way, we wouldn’t need to clear the land in the first place.”

Applebloom stared at the branch. “Maybe I... should just ...”

“Go back?” Applejack turned to look at her. “But you’ve been excited about this all week. What’s the matter?”

Applebloom looked away and rubbed one knee against the inside of her leg.

“There’s nuthin’ to be scared of, I swear.”

“But it’s the everfree forest! It’s where everything scary lives!”

Applejack pushed the branch aside and walked over to her. “I know we grownups are always tellin’ you young ’uns scary stories, and there’s a good reason for it. But you’re gettin’ older, Bloom. Clearin’ land is an important responsibility on a farm and you gotta start learnin’ the ropes now.”

“B-b-but...” Applebloom glanced around, knees wobbling.

“Aww!” Applejack gave he a gentle nudge. “I swear there’s nothin’ for you to worry about. This is one of the quietest parts of the forest, right on the edge, and as long as you’ve got me to keep an eye on you everything’ll be just fine.”

“Promise?”

Applejack nodded. “Cross my heart!”

Applejack lifted the branch with her back and Applebloom ducked her head and walked under it.

“There y’go. You’re only scared because you’ve never done anything like this before. Once you’ve learned all about it, it won’t be scary anymore.” Applejack climbed out from under the branch and turned towards the empty road ahead. “Applebloom?”

Applejack stared at the dirt road and the thick wall of fetid, blue-green foliage to either side. She stood perfectly still and listened to the quiet sounds of the forest. There weren’t any animal calls or bird songs here. Just the rustling of leaves and the faint buzzing of flies.

“Applebloom?”

She jogged down the road a bit, searching the weeds and soil for hoofprints.

“Applebloom! This ain’t funny!”

She bolted down the road, turned a corner, and skidded to a halt in front of a small wooden archway with a rickety gate. The faded wooden planks were interwoven with prickly ivy, and there was a hoof-carved sign across the top of the arch. Applejack peered at the gate latch but found no sign of recent use.

Why would there be a gate here in the middle of nowhere? On a deerpath, no less?

She reared up and brushed the leaves away from the sign:

Paradise

“Applebloom? Are you in there?”

She stared at the sign a moment longer, then reared up and tore the vines away completely.

Welcome to Paradise Estates!

Jolly and pleasant, just for the present, No sign of trouble in sight!

My Little Pony, My Little Pony, May all your days be bright!

Applejack glanced over her shoulder at the empty dirt road home. She turned back to the gate. “Hello? Anypony home? Is it okay if I come in and look around, real quick?”

Applejack listened to the sounds of the forest a moment longer before giving the gate a gentle push. The latch slid open without a noise.

“The sign says welcome, so I’m comin’ in now. If y’all don’t want visitors you can just say so and I’ll leave you be. No hard feelings.” She pushed the gate open, ripping apart the rotten vines and scraping an arc in the dirt. She stepped through and left the gate ajar as she continued on. The forest was as bleak and impenetrable as ever.

“This is no time to be trespassin’, Applebloom. Just come out and I promise not to be cross with you.”

She came to the end of the road and the foliage gave way to a large, circular clearing with a gently sloping hill in the middle that was dominated by a great branching tree with flat, shelf-like foliage. The lush, vibrant leaves fluttered in the wind like goose-down and a spectrum of colored shapes hung from the branches, heavy and succulent.

Applejack stared up at the massive, triangular tree for some time. She stepped into the clearing and lookeddown at the smooth, lush grass beneath her hooves. It was perfectly manicured, without any trace of weeds or shrubs. She stopped at the foot of the tree and examined the roots.

What sort of funny-lookin’ tree is this, anyhow? She peered at the lowest branch. And why are the fruit all different shapes and colors?

She looked all around. From the top of the hill, she could just barely see the crowns of the surrounding trees. There weren’t any buildings here, nor any evidence that there had ever been.

Not much of an estate, she thought. She took a deep breath. “Applebloo—”

She heard a low, loud hiss behind her and her throat clenched tight. She turned around and stared into a pair of slitted, teal eyes sheathed behind a grid of stone-grey scales. The serpent’s body was as thick as her own neck and it’s long, looping coils were slung over one of the tree’s lower branches. The serpent drew closer and licked the air with it’s grey, wet tongue.

“Hullo,” The serpent said, momentarily baring its fangs.

Applejack bolted across the clearing, tearing divots out of the perfectly smooth lawn. She screamed all the while, though it sounded strange to her own ears.

The serpent made no effort to stop her. It slowly turned it’s head and tracked her movement. A soft smirk tugged at the corner of it’s scaled mouth.

“You’ll be back,” he said. “And I’ll be here.”

Applejack sprinted down main-street with Applebloom on her back, jostling her violently. Everypony they passed looked at her in shock: when they heard what she was shouting, they dropped what they were doing and ran indoors.

“Snake! Snaaake! Sah-naaaaayake!!”

“Would you jes calm down already?” Applebloom said, holding onto her mane. “We’re in town now! Can’t you at least slow down a bit?”

Applejack continued screaming all the way to the library. She kicked the front door open with both hind hooves, rushed inside, and slammed it behind her. “Twilight! We gots us a genuine emergency!”

Twilight peeked down from the second floor balcony and, with a flash of light, appeared beside her. “What happened? Tell me everything!”

“Snake!” Applejack threw applebloom on a nearby beanbag chair. “Applebloom wandered off while we were surveyin’ the everfree forest, and there was a giant snake! You gotta check’er for bite marks or poison or somethin’!”

“Would you quiet down?” Applebloom said. “Ah didn’t bump into no snake. And besides, you were the one who wandered off! I turned around for jest a second, and you were nowhere to be—”

Applejack pointed a hoof in her face. “I don’t wanna hear no excuses outta you! You coulda got hurt real bad!”

Applebloom looked to looked Twilight with a sigh. “Think you can talk some sense into her?”

Twilight nudged Applejack’s hoof aside. “Can you describe this snake for me?”

“Huge!” she said. “Positively gi-normous! Coulda swallowed somepony whole! It was all orange and scaly and the face was all armored, like a dragon!”

“How long was it?”

“Can’t say for sure, on account of it was all coiled up in a tree... but it musta been at least fifty yards long! You shoulda seen it! It musta been one of them annie-condas!”

Twilight arched an eyebrow. “Anacondas aren’t venomous.”

Applejack’s eyes darted to her sister. “Y’sure about that?”

“They don’t even have fangs.”

Applejack stamped a hoof. “Well this one did! He flashed ’em at me when he spoke!”

“That’s... odd.” Twilight turned to one of the bookshelves. her horn glowed, anda selection of books slid off the shelves and hovered into the air in a circled around her head. “The largest fanged snake in the world is the Bitis gabonica, or Gaboon viper, but the longest one on record was still only two meters, five centimeters. That’s eighty-one inches.”

“I know what I saw!” Applejack shouted. “We gotta get the word out! Close off the forest! Build a fence or somethin’!”

Applebloom scowled at her. “You really think a fence is gonna keep one single snake out of Ponyville?”

“Hush you! It’s to keep curious little fillies like you out of the forest. We can’t let folks wander around with a giant snake on the loose!”

Applebloom climbed out of the beanbag chair and marched towards the door. “This was all your idea from the start. I’m goin’ home.”

Applejack pointed a hoof at her and opened her mouth to speak, but Twilight tapped her shoulder. “I need you to take a deep breath, Applejack. We’ll look into this right away but it’s not an immediate threat. Your family is safe.”

“How can you be so calm with that thing on the loose? Aren’t you the least bit afraid?”

“Of course I’m afraid of snakes.” Twilight set the books back on the shelf, except for one with a coiled serpent engraved on the cover. “But I’ve learned enough about them to know how to react to them: Constrictors of that size aren’t poisonous and they generally don’t attack anything that’s too large for them to swallow whole. It probably threatened you because you stumbled into it’s home: It was just scared of you.”

“It!?” Applejack’s eyes widened. “Scared of me!?”

Twilight smiled at her. “You’d be surprised.”

Applejack pawed at the floor. “Well... gosh. Now I just feel silly.”

“I’m not saying it wasn’t dangerous... just not as dangerous as you think. We’d better look into this anyways, just to be sure. A fanged serpent of that size is quite unusual, and—” Twilight frowned, and turned to look at her. “Wait a second. Did you say this snake... spoke to you?”

Applejack nodded. “I swear it did. Right to my face.”

Twilight bit her lower lip and looked away. “This...changes things a bit.”

“For the worse?”

“Not sure. It might be a magical creature of some sort. We’ll have to call in a professional.”

Applejack glanced at the royal scrolls arranged on Twilight’s desk. “You mean, like, the royal guards or something?”

“They aren’t prepared for this sort of circumstance.” Twilight gazed out a window. “This will require something much more serious.”

Fluttershy pranced along the rough, beaten path that led through the outskirts of the Everfree forest, humming to herself with a smile. On her back she balanced a wicker basket covered with a red-and-white checkered cloth. She came to a rickety wooden archway and looked up at the sign.

“Paradise Estates?” she said with a smile. “Well isn’t that sweet!”

She opened the gate and stepped through, carefully closed it behind her, and walked to the circular clearing. “Are you home, mister snake? I’ve brought you... some...”

She stood and stared, slack jawed, at the gently swaying tree. The crown was puffy and round and resplendent with bright pink blossoms, and a soft rain of petals filled the air like snow. The clearing all around was divided by a network of babbling brooks, adorned with elegant hardwood bridges painted bright red. Spherical paper lanterns hung all about, filled with glowing insects.

But... Applejack said...

Fluttershy strolled into the clearing and walked down one of the many meandering pathways. There were gardens all around her, filled not with flowers but white sand that had been raked into whorling patterns and decorated with round, black stones. She came to the foot of the tree—it looked more like a very large shrub, really—and peered up at the fruit.

...Peaches?

She heard a hissing noise and spun around. She briefly caught sight of a sheath of gleaming jade scales and long feathery whiskers that trailed through the air and curled at the ends.

“Hullo?” The serpent said.

“Eek!” Fluttershy flinched away. As soon as she blinked the garden was gone. The perfume of flower petals was no more, and the clearing was a field of smooth, plain grass.

“I... I’m sorry. I thought...” She turned back to the serpent: a perfectly ordinary constrictor. “Nevermind. I thought I saw something, but it was kind of.. day-dreamy.”

The serpent tilted its head. “You shouldn’t believe everything you see, I suppose. Why are you here, if I might be so bold as to ask?”

She smiled. “I came to say hello, and learn more about you! One of my friends stumbled into your home by accident and I hear she gave you a terrible fright. I’m here to make amends.”

“Amends?” the snake said. “With me?”

“Well why not? There’s no reason we can’t be good neighbors.”

“I’m not frightened of your friend,” he said. “At all.”

“Oh. Well, I can still apologize for the misunderstanding.” Fluttershy set her basket at the foot of the tree and removed the cloth. “Are you hungry? I brought you some yummy eggs! Um-num!”

The serpent eyed her up and down. “In trade?”

“No, they’re just a gift. A housewarming gift, if you will. Have you been living here long?”

“Not... exactly.” The snake nodded towards the trunk. “You’re not here for this, are you?”

“The tree? Oh, not at all. I just wanted to visit you.” Fluttershy sat down on the grassy hill. “My name is Fluttershy. Pleased to meet you!”

The snake slithered further out of the tree, hanging low enough to meet her gaze without scraping against the ground. His tail also lowered into view nearby, coiled around the trunk of the tree. The snake watched her in silence.

“So,” she said, “do you have a name?”

“You’re really aren’t afraid of me?” he said, “not even the least little bit?”

Fluttershy rolled her eyes. “I know, I know... there’s only two things all ponies are afraid of: thunder and snakes. But I’m different: I’ve always had a special way with animals. My friends sent me to meet you because they’re all afraid of you, but that doesn’t mean we can’t reach an understanding.”

“I see.” The snake looked at the clearing all around. “Tell me, Fluttershy... does any of this seem familiar to you? The garden, the tree... myself. Does it remind you of anything?”

“Not really,” she said. “Should it?”

“You haven’t heard any stories about this sort of thing? Any at all, no matter how old or obscure?”

Fluttershy shook her head. “We’ve got lots of stories, but I don’t think we have any about snakes and trees... though I’m not an expert on the topic. I have a friend who could probably tell you more.”

“Hm. Well. I must thank you for the gift you’ve brought me, but I’m afraid eggs aren’t exactly a staple element of my diet.”

“Oh? What do you eat?”

The snake’s eyes drifted to the end of it’s own tail, distracted. “Not... much of anything, really. If I can help it.” He looked away.

“Oh.”

“But it was still a very kind gesture on your part. Perhaps I can offer you something in return.” One of the serpent’s coils wrapped around a lower branch and bent it down low, dangling a lumpy, green fruit in front of her nose. It looked nothing at all like a peach. “Would you care to eat of the fruit of the tree?”

“Ah... thank you,” she said, eyeing the fruit. “But what kind of fruit is it? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Power,” the serpent said. “Power everlasting.”

Fluttershy stared at him quietly.

“And... what does power everlasting taste like? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“It’s juicy, and sort of sweet and tart at the same time, and... well, it’s not actually...” the snake paused to look at the fruit. “Have you had strawberries before?”

Fluttershy nodded, slowly.

“It’s basically like a watered-down strawberry, but crunchier. It’s technically a melon.”

“And... you mentioned power?”

“Everlasting,” the serpent said. “Yours for the taking. Immortality, knowledge, the whole nine yards.”

“And you’re just going to give it to me?”

“Well, perhaps it would be an exaggeration to refer to it as a gift. But I’m sure an arrangement can be made...” The serpent slithered down from the tree and coiled on the ground around her. “You’d just have to do something for me, first—just one tiny little thing, inconsequential really—and the power everlasting is yours for the taking.”

Fluttershy bit her lip and leaned away from the serpent. “What’s that?”

He drew closer, flicking his tongue in the air. “All you have to do... is murder all your best friends.”

Fluttershy glared at the serpent for some time.

He nodded, matter of factly. “So. What do you say?”

Fluttershy stood up. “That’s the most monstrous thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life, and you ought to be thoroughly ashamed of yourself for even suggesting such a thing.”

The serpent flinched back, eyes wide. “No way! Seriously?”

“Good day, mister snake.” Fluttershy stepped over his coils and walked away.

The snake slithered over the ground and reared up in front of her. “You aren’t even going to consider it? Not for a second?”

She tossed her nose in the air with sniff. “Good day mister snake.” She walked around him.

“My goodness. You’re much further along than I expected. I’m terribly—” He turned, and saw her halfway across the clearing. He bolted across the smooth grass like an arrow and reared up in front of her again. “No-no-no, wait! Don’t go yet!”

Fluttershy set her jaw and turned her head away.

“There’s been a terrible misunderstanding, Miss Fluttershy. I’m so very sorry.”

“Well I should hope so. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I can’t really go into the details of it, but suffice to say I deal with a very wide variety of people in my line of work and I never know what to expect from any of them. I think I made an assumption about you and your kind that was completely unwarranted and I apologize deeply for that.”

“Assumption?” Fluttershy pursed her lips. “You asked me to murder my friends! How did you think I’d react!?”

“Well now we know where we stand on the issue,” he said. “I’ve known people who weren’t bothered by murder in the slightest! In fact, I knew the guy who came up with the idea in the first place. It’s kind of a funny story, actually: he and his brother got into an argument about—”

Fluttershy tossed her nose in the air with sniff and walked around him.

“All right all right!” he said, “so it wasn’t that funny. In fact it wasn’t funny at all! I meant it more in the sense of being quirky and unusual. Not ha-ha funny.”

The serpent darted out again, but snapped taught mere inches short of her hind leg. He glanced back at the very tip of his tail, still wrapped around the tree. He looked back at Fluttershy as she strolled to the edge of the clearing.

“No, wait!” he shouted. “Can’t we just sit and talk about this like civilized beings?”

She paused to look back at him.

“Well? Can’t we?”

“...I’m listening,” she said.

“Ah. Yes. So you are.” The serpent rested his chin on the grass. “So! Murder: bad. And not at all funny. Right? We’re in agreement?”

“Is there something you actually want to talk about?”

“Well, now that you mentioned it... this whole murder thing.” He gazed up at the sky, idly. “Did you ever wonder if there were circumstances—hypothetically, of course—where it might be acceptable to murder someone?”

“What!?”

“Or even necessary? What if you were given the opportunity to save the lives of ten ponies, but would have to murder one single pony to do it? I mean, it’s also wrong to steal things—less wrong, of course, but still fundamentally wrong—and yet it’s considered acceptable to steal food if your family is poor and starving. So what if we apply the same—”

Fluttershy tossed her mane and walked out of the clearing.

“No, wait! What if you could save a hundred ponies? And what if the pony you had to murder was really bad, like a criminal or something?”

The serpent watched her disappear into the foliage.

“You’ll be back!”

Fluttershy trudged into Ponyville’s public library, scowling. Twilight Sparkle looked up from her writing desk and watched her flop into a beanbag chair.

“How’d it go?”

“He was perfectly dreadful,” she said. “You wouldn’t believe the things he wanted to talk about. I’d rather not visit him again if it’s all the same to you.”

“Well, all right. But is he a threat? Is he dangerous?”

“He could be if he wanted to,” she said, “but he refuses to let go of that tree of his. I don’t think he’ll ever leave that clearing.”

“Did he seem magical, like a dragon or a basilisk?”

“Well actually, for a moment there...” Fluttershy shook her head and flopped back in the chair. “No, it was probably nothing. He’s just your everyday, garden-variety talking snake. He wasn’t even giant: ten or twelve yards, yes, but that’s still a healthy length for an anaconda.”

“Huh.” Twilight looked at the encyclopedia book on the desk beside her. “Did he have fangs?”

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “He was a constrictor. They aren’t venomous.”

“I know, but did you check for sure? Did he ever open his mouth?”

“Not wide enough for me to see.” Fluttershy sat upright. “Why?”

“I think I’d like to visit him myself, if only to examine him. He might be a completely new kind of species. Do you think he’d agree to such a thing?”

Fluttershy shrugged. “He seems much more keen on talking than actually doing anything. But even so, you should take somepony with you just to be on the safe side.”

Rainbow Dash skimmed low over the treetops, carrying Twilight along with their forelegs hooked together. “So, how big are we talking here? Fifty yards? A hundred? Two hundred?”

“Hardly,” Twilight said. “It’s more like ten or twelve yards.”

“Aw, come on! You dragged me all the way out here for that?”

“I might remind you that Nightmare Moon was less than three yards tall at the ears and she caused no end of trouble. It’s not the size that has me worried.” She squinted at the endless canopy below. “It’s actually not the snake I’m worried about at all... it’s the tree. Applejack described it as having many different kinds of fruit, so it might be an artificial construct. If somepony used magic or alchemy to create it, we need to know about it.”

“Tree... pfsh. I’ve flown over this part of the forest plenty of times, and I’ve never seen a tree in a clearing. If there were one, we’d see it a mile away.”

Twilight watched the foliage below and sighed. “Let’s set down and rest for a minute. I’ll go over Applejack’s directions one more time.”

Rainbow Dash lowered her into the canopy and set her down on a beaten path that just happened to be directly underneath them.

Dash pawed at the dirt. “Whoa. Think this is the same one she was talking about?”

“There, see? We weren’t that lost.” She shuffled her shoulders and walked down the path. “Let’s see where it leads.”

“Wait wait wait. Don’t you think this is a little... lucky? That it just happened to be right under us, just when we decided to land?”

“It’s not that unthinkable. We were following directions, after all, so it’s—” Twilight froze as she caught sight of a wooden archway with a rickety gate, directly ahead of them.

Rainbow Dash tilted her head, and her left ear flipped up. “Tell me that’s not lucky.”

“Well it’s not impossible,” Twilight said as she walked through the gate. “You can’t just go attributing everything to luck, good or bad.”

“Do you think it was some kind of freaky magic that brought us out here?” Dash hovered up and waggled her hooves. “Oooh-wooo! Snaaaake magic!”

Twilight waved a hoof at her. “Would you cut that out? It’s kind of insulting. Fluttershy said he was probably just an ordinary talking snake, and I intend to treat him with respect. I don’t want you making fun of him.”

“Okay, okay... sheesh.”

Twilight and Rainbow Dash walked down the path and came to the edge of a vast, yawning chasm: the very edge of the world loomed ahead, with floating continents suspended in the air over a sea of impenetrable mist. The crumbling, rocky land masses each contained a distinct biome: ice and snow, fire and brimstone, trees and rivers, shadowy crevasses. Each of these realms were fastened together by the roots of a colossal ash tree whose trunk thrust high into the clouds and whose branches loomed far above the stars themselves.

Wha...?

Twilight stared down at the yawning void below and saw a nest of vipers writhing amongst the lower roots of the tree... so many that no tongue could enumerate them. A greater serpent, nearly as thick as the tree itself, coiled up around the trunk. It’s stone-gray head turned to fix it’s inky eyes upon them with an empty, yawning hunger that was never to be sated.

“Hullo?”

Twilight blinked, once, and saw an ordinary tree on a gently sloping hill. A large, reddish-orange boa constrictor hung down from the branches and looked at them blandly, its mouth stuffed full of shiny white eggs.

“You... we were...” Twilight looked around at the clearing. “Sorry, I just... thought I saw...”

“Whoa,” Rainbow Dash whispered. “Snake magic.”

The serpent struggled for a moment to swallowed the eggs. “This isn’t about the basket, is it? she just left them here, so I figured—”

“Yeah, no. That’s... that’s fine.” Twilight pointed at the tree. “Did something happen, just a second ago?”

The snake rolled its eyes and flexed it’s coils, affecting a shrug. “Dunno. Did it?”

“Well anyways.” Twilight took a deep breath, which she then slowly exhaled. “Good morning, mister snake. My name is Twilight Sparkle and I work for the local public library. I was wondering if you’d be willing to answer a few questions for us.”

“Library?” He said, arching an eyebrow. “You ponies have actual written language?”

“Well, yes.”

“I think I underestimated how much I underestimated you.” The snake darted it’s nose into the basket and swallowed another egg. “What do you want with me, anyways?”

“Just some questions. Is this is a bad time? If you’re busy, I can come back later.”

The snake snorted. “Busy? Me? I don’t remember the last time I was busy. Ask away.”

“That’s wonderful!” Twilight took out a clipboard and set a pair of reading glasses on her nose. “Now then, Mister Snake. Do you have a name?”

“I thought that was your job,” he said.

“My... my job?”

“Naming all the animals in the garden. That’s your thing. It’s what you do.”

Twilight smiled brightly. “Actually, I have reason think you might be a completely undiscovered species! If that’s the case, and if I can gather enough biological evidence of your existence, I might even be permitted to name you! I mean, not you personally.”

“Species? Evidence?” The serpent’s eyes widened. “Are you saying you’re a scientist?”

“Yes. I’m not a full-time biologist, but I dabble in a lot of different fields.”

The serpent smiled at her. “Well that changes everything! I love you intellectual types!”

“Really? That’s fantastic!” Twilight dabbed her quill in an inkwell. “Do you have a personal name? Something we can use to identify you as an individual?”

“Quite a few, actually... but if I had to pick one, it would be Zaraturvara.” He leaned close and peered over the edge of her scroll. “That’s Z, A, R, A...”

“Yes, yes, good good... zara, tur, vara.” She turned the scroll towards him. “Do I have that right?”

“Spot on. And excellent penmanship, I must say.”

“Thank you. Now then... are you a magical being?”

“No. I’m just an ordinary snake, strictly speaking.”

“Interesting. And what does your diet consist of, primarily?”

“I don’t have one”

“You... what?” Twilight looked up. “What do you mean, you don’t eat?”

“Pretty much what it sounds like. I don’t eat.”

“What about those eggs?”

“They’re not nutritious to me or anything. Just tasty. And it keeps my mind off...” The serpent eyed the tip of his own tail. “Other things. Other appetites.”

“No... food. Riiight.” Twilight scribbled something. “So, how many of your kind are there?”

“It’s just me, actually. I’m the only one.”

“What about your parents?”

“They were not like me. At all.”

“Can you describe your biological parents for me?”

“My most recent mother was a giantess, and my most recent father was--still is, really, but he’s not doing much these days. He was the god of fire and trickery and you wouldn’t believe the sort of trouble I get into because of his reputation. He kind of... got around, if you know what I mean. He was also the father of a wolf and the mother of an eight-legged horse.”

Twilight tilted her reading glasses down. “Your father... was a mother?”

“Not simultaneously.” The serpent peered at her scroll again. “Are you getting all this? I so rarely get to talk about myself. Most people just come for the tree.”

“Mister Zar... Zarat...” She paused to look at her scroll. “Mister Zaraturvara. Are you being completely honest with me?”

Zaraturvara sighed. “There, see? As soon as people find out about my father, they—”

“It’s nothing to do with your lineage, Mister Zaraturvara. It’s just that some of the things you’ve told me are... kind of a little...”

“Yes?”

“Impossible,” Twilight said. “It’s impossible for a living organism to survive without some form of food, water, air, and warmth.”

He tilted his head. “Any more impossible than a talking snake?”

“Trust me, that’s not the strangest thing we’ve encountered.”

“Yes, but I’m guessing all those other strange things were magical. Have you ever encountered a non-magical talking snake?”

“Well... no. Not until now, at least.”

“And don’t you think that’s a little odd? The funny part is I never went to school. I was never given lessons. I wasn’t raised by a community of my own species. I just sprang into being, fully equipped with the faculty of speech. In all languages, no less.”

“Well you had to come from somewhere.”

“Yes, of course I was created... all things were created. And what does creation imply?”

“Physical laws? Temporal reality? Observable evidence?”

“Creation,” he said, “implies a creator.”

They stared at him, blankly.

“You know, the creator? Of the cosmos?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on. An intelligent creator. Don’t tell me you’ve never even thought about it.”

Twilight and Dash glanced at each other for a moment.

“It just seems a little silly, that’s all.”

“Oh, it does, does it?” the snake smirked at them. “Well then, let’s hear it. Let’s hear what the leading scientific minds have to say about the origin of all creation! Let’s see how the great intellectual argues her way out of the inception of causality. Go on... prove he doesn’t exist.”

“Who?”

“The omnipotent creator. If you’ve got an argument against his existence, I’m all too willing to hear it. I enjoy a challenge.”

The ponies and the serpent stared at each other for some time. Leaves rustled in the wind. A hawk cried out in the distance.

“How did we get onto this topic?” Rainbow Dash said. “Weren’t we talking about snakes and species and stuff?”

“Oh, come on!” Zaraturvara said. “You’re not even going to try to argue it either way?”

“It just seems kind of pointless,” said Twilight. “If there really is a creator, it’s not like it would change anything for us. The world still works the way it always has. What’s the difference?”

“Don’t you worry what he thinks of you? Whether he cares about you or not? What sort of plans he might have for you? Don’t you ever want to reconcile the perceived conflict between science and religion?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s the conflict that arises from the assumed nature of free will and the scientific method, when compared to the...” the snake paused to look at them. “Wait. What’s what?”

“Religion,” Twilight said. “What’s that?”

“You... but... it’s...” The snake reared up and glowered down at them. “You people are totally unmanageable! How am I supposed to work like this!?”

Rainbow Dash stepped forward. “Okay, just calm down there mister snake. Why don’t we, uh... talk about something else?”

“Don’t you change the subject on me!” he hissed.

Rainbow Dash recoiled in shock, and she and Twilight hugged each other tight. They took a step back together, eyes wide.

“What? What’s... oh!” Zaraturvara folded his fangs back and closed his mouth. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Rainbow Dash and Twilight slowly let go of each other.

The serpent sighed. “Yes, fine, very well. We can change the subject.”

“Okay then...” Twilight pointed at the tree. “What about that? Is it your home? Is there some kind of symbiotic relationship going on here?”

“Yes, it’s really rather nice, don’t you think? It’s not really my official place of residence, but I have been tasked with guarding it. Sort of. I don’t get out much, as you can imagine.”

“What kind of tree is it? Do you know?”

“It’s the tree of knowledge. It is not part of a species, for it is unique... and yet its branches and leaves can be found in all sapient things.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It’s a metaphor.”

“Well, I’m talking about the tree. What is the tree?”

“I told you. The tree is a metaphor.”

Twilight tossed her clipboard aside. “Are you telling me that this tree... this real and entirely physical tree... is a metaphor?”

“Yes.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” Twilight put the lid back on her inkwell and packed up her writing supplies. “I’ve got better things to do than talk about such nonsense. Good day, mister Zaraturvara.”

“Oh-ho! Ridiculous nonsense? I see your hardwired little intellectual mind simply isn’t able to wrap itself around the complexities of... of the...” he watched as Twilight and Rainbow Dash walked away. “Where are you going? You can’t just walk out on a conversation like this! Get back here!”

Twilight glanced back without slowing her pace. “Let me know when you’re willing to be reasonable. Then we’ll talk about talking.”

“Don’t you even want to know what the tree does? What’s wrong with you!?”

“What a dweeb,” Rainbow Dash muttered.

“What is the circle constant?” The snake called out.

Twilight stopped walking and turned back with a frown. “The what?”

“The circle constant,” he said. “The ratio of a circle’s circumference to it’s diameter.”

“I know what pi is,” she said. “Why do you want to know about it?”

“Is it real?”

Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated.

“Well?” he said.

“Of course it’s real, in the sense that it is a clearly defined mathematical constant. But it doesn’t have a physical substance or anything.”

“And yet it is an integral part of every perfect circle in existence. Every circle that ever did exist, or that ever will. It is a permenant foundation of the laws of reality that can be proven by exact mathematics, and yet its true value can never be known in full: it is an irrational, non-terminating and non-repeating decimal representation. Thus, you can only comprehend it through the metaphor of ‘diameter over circumference’.”

“It’s the other way around,” said Twilight. “Circumference over diameter.”

“Whatever!” The serpent said. “Can you not imagine that a thing need not be real for it to be true? Or that it need not be extant for it to be real? A metaphor can be more powerful--and far more dangerous--than any tangible thing!”

Twilight worked her jaw back and forth. “That’s...”

“Yes? Yes?”

“That’s actually a very interesting thought.”

“Aha! Finally, we have a breakthrough.”

Twilight turned back to the forest wall. “I’ll have to ask the princess about it sometime. I’m sure she’ll know the answer.”

Zaraturvara watched, slack jawed, as Twilight and Rainbow Dash walked out of the clearing and into the leaves.

“Cheater!”

Rainbow Dash immediately poked her head out of the foliage. “What did you call us?” she snarled.

“I said you’re cheating. Because you’re a cheater. On account of all the cheating cheats you cheat.”

Dash clenched her jaw and marched back into the clearing. She came to a halt in front of the serpent and pressed her face against his brow.

“You callin’ me out, bucko?”

“I call it as I see it. I was actually referring to your friend, over there... but if you’re willing to walk away without a fight, you’re not much better than her.”

“What’s your deal, anyway? All we did was come and visit, trying to be all friendly like, and you’ve done nothing but whine and complain about how nopony wants to hang out with you and listen to your dumb old questions. Did you think that maybe it’s got something to do with your ’tude?”

“You were the ones who decided to visit me and my tree out of a desire to ask me questions about myself... and yet you lack the courage to face the answers. You don’t really want to know or understand me. You just want to slap a scientific name on something and call it a day, just to put yourself in the history books. You have no interest in serious intellectual discourse: I’m just a freak of nature to you!”

“You want us to take you seriously? Well fine, then. Prove it.”

Zaraturvara stared at her for a moment. “Prove what?”

“You said that this is the tree of knowledge, right? Well, go ahead and prove it.”

“Very well then. How?”

“That’s your problem, bucko. You’re the one who wants to be taken seriously, so you’re the one who has to pony up.”

“Now we’re talking,” he said. “Unfortunately, I can’t give you that information directly. Knowledge about the tree of knowledge can only be attained by eating of the fruit of tree of knowledge.”

They stared at each other for awhile.

“So,” he said, “do you want to eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge? I’m supposed to guard it, but I’m sure an arrangement could be—”

Dash turned away. “What a load of hot air.”

“Fine, fine. I cannot explain the tree of knowledge, but I can do the next best thing: I can explain the tree of life.”

“The what?”

“That over there, see?” he nodded across the clearing, where a second identical tree stood. “It’s the acacia tree of Iusaaset, the heavenly peach tree wherein roost a phoenix and a dragon, the trees by the crystal clear waters that bear twelve crops every month... the whole shebang.”

Rainbow Dash squinted at the other tree. “Was that there a minute ago? And why does it look exactly like this one?”

“Completely different, I assure you. Give me a scroll and I’ll see what I can do to quell your doubts regarding the authenticity of my many and varied qualifications.”

Twilight walked back to the top of the hill, warily, and passed the serpent a scroll. He dipped his tongue into the inkwell and began to lick the paper. They watched as a branching array of lines took form, each finer and smaller than the last, until they were thinner than single hairs and then even thinner still.

“There you go... the tree of life. There it is in black and white.”

Twilight set the scroll on the grass and took out a magnifying glass. “What is it?”

“Life,” he said. “All life. Anywhere. Ever. It starts with the three main genealogical branches. Here, you’ve got your prokaryotic bacteria. These are the Archaea, which includes single-cell organisms that lack nuclei and organelles. And here you have your Eukaryota, which includes most of the lifeforms that are visible to the naked eye... plants, animals, slime molds, kumquats, all that good stuff.”

Dash nudged Twilight. “Hey, does any of this check out?”

Twilight looked up from the scroll and gazed at the duplicate tree across the clearing. “It’s so... familiar. The branches... they’re...” She shook her head, numbly.

“Well?” said Zaraturvara. “What do you have to say about that?”

“I’ll have to show this to the princess. She’ll know what to make of it.”

“Jesus Christ, you people!” He tail lashed out with his tail and swiped the scroll away, crumpling it up and tossing it out of view. “Can’t you think for yourselves for just once in your entire lives?”

Twilight reached for the crumpled scroll as it tumbled down the hill. “Hey, I was looking at that!”

Rainbow Dash grabbed Twilight and pulled her along, back towards the dirt path. “Come on. We’re out of here.”

“We had a deal!” Zaraturvara called after them. “I showed you proof, and you agreed to take me seriously!”

“That was before we figured out that you’re a serious jerk!”

“You’ll be back!” He shouted, then sighed to himself. “Oh, who am I kidding.”

“So, how big of a snake are we talking here? Fifty yards? A hundred?”

Rarity looked at Spike, who was riding on her back and keeping a wicker basket steady. “Not even,” she said. “Twilight said he was only eight or ten yards long.”

“That’s still pretty large, isn’t it? I wonder what he’s like.”

“Twilight paid him a visit, didn’t she? Did you ask her about it?”

Spike shrugged. “Yeah, but she won’t say anything about him. Said he was a waste of time.”

“From a scientific point of view, I assume?”

“Pretty much. Whatever happened, it must’ve been pretty frustrating for her.”

“Well we can’t have that, now can we?” Rarity ducked under a loose branch and turned a corner. “Fluttershy is certainly good with wild animals, but this particular one is intelligent: He deserves to be treated with a more refined, diplomatic touch. So far, everypony who's visited him has come back with a simply dreadful story. I’m sure he must think we’re just as dreadful.”

“Well, kay... but what if they’re right? What if they think he’s a jerk-face because he’s actually a jerk-face?”

“Then that’s what we need to determine. True diplomacy is more than just threat assessment and scientific research.” She looked back at him. “Why did you want to come along, anyhow?”

“Mostly just to keep you safe,” he said. “It’s dangerous out here.”

She frowned at him. “Don’t get any funny ideas about heroics, all right?”

“It’s not that,” he said. “You can handle yourself just fine. I’m just saying it’s always safer to go hiking or camping in pairs... the buddy system is just plain common sense.”

“Oh. Well, of course... how thoughtful.”

“No problem. Though I have to admit, I kind of want to meet this snake. We’re both reptiles so we might have something in common. And it’d be nice to have another guy to hang out with, too.”

“Just promise to leave all the talking to me for the first little while. Once we’ve smoothed things over, then we can afford to get a little casual.”

“You got it.”

Rarity walked to the end of the dirt road and came to the edge of a vast, barren ocean. The beach was made of jagged gravel, and the brackish waves crashed against the western edge of the world and sent sprays of salty, fetid foam into the air. There was a small island just off the coast: a rocky outcropping with a flattened top, whereupon stood a garden of indescribable beauty. In the center of this garden was a dead and dying tree: nothing but a snapped and splintered trunk, like a bleached femur thrust into the ground. A great scaled beast writhed at the foot of the tree: its bloated body was covered in armored scales, and a hundred serpentine necks writhed and thrashed about in the throes of a long and lingering death. Each head cried out in a different voice. A single golden apple hung from the highest branch of the tree, shining and ripe. A triad of slender, unutterably beautiful mares lounged by a nearby pool, playing harps, singing and washing their manes.

“Rare? You okay?”

Rarity flinched at the sound of Spike’s voice. She glanced around at the plain grassy hill in the circular clearing. “Sorry, I... did you see anything odd just now? Like a daydream, or deja-vu?”

“Nope. Just a hill and a tree. Why?”

“It’s nothing. Nevermind.” She walked to the foot of the tree and delicately cleared her throat. “Helloooo? Are you home, mister snake?”

She heard a deep, metallic hiss directly behind her. Rarity spun around and stared into the slitted eyes of an orange boa-constrictor. It hung down from the highest branch, perfectly still in the cool breeze. She clenched her jaw and swallowed a lump in her throat.

‘Only’ eight yards...!?

Spike glanced between them, then nudged Rarity with his elbow. She stood perfectly still, except for her trembling knees. The serpent continued to loom before them.

“Heya!” Spike said. He hopped off her back and held up the wicker basket. “My name’s Spike! How do you do?”

“As well as can be expected. Greetings, Spike.” He nodded to him respectfully. “My name is Zaraturvara. Welcome to my tree.”

“Cool.” Spike held up the basket. “We brought you some more eggs, if you want ’em.”

“Kind of you.” Zaraturvara peered at Rarity, who was still trembling. “Is she with you?”

“Yeah, she’s cool. You know how it is... ponies and snakes.”

The serpent lowered to eye level with her and smiled without baring his fangs. “Greetings, fair maiden. It is both an honor and a privilege to have you grace my humble garden with your magnificent presence.”

“Thanks!” She squeaked. “Pleasure’s mine!”

“Do please, have a seat.”

“That’s very gracious of you!” Rarity flopped on the grass and managed to take a slow, deep breath. “I’m sorry... about... I didn’t mean to...”

Zaraturvara shook his head and clucked his tongue. “Not offended in the slightest, my lady. ’Tis simply the way of things. Do please, take as long as you need to compose yourself.”

Rarity sat on the grass and watched in silence as the serpent nudged his nose in the basket of eggs. After a few more deep breaths, the tremble left her limbs and she managed a nervous, apologetic laugh. “Not exactly the best of first impressions, I suppose.”

“It’s simply your nature, and no fault of you and yours.” He lowered onto the grass like a coil of rope, with his head reared up. “So what brings you here? It’s not the tree is it? Are you here for the tree?”

“Oh, not at all. We simply came to visit with you.”

He sighed. “Of course you did.”

Rarity looked up at the shelves of foliage. “It’s a marvelous tree, I think.”

“Looks’ll fool you,” he said. “It’s a double-edged sword.”

“A double edged what?”

“It’s a weapon,” Spike said. “It’s a long, sharp, pointy thing with a handle. You kind of need hands to use it.”

“Yes, that’s it.” Zaraturvara eyed him for a moment. “I don’t wish to be rude, but... what are you? Just so there’s no confusion.”

Spike puffed his chest out. “I’m a dragon!”

“A baby dragon,” Rarity said.

Zaraturvara smirked at her. “It’s not the size of the dragon in the fight... it’s the size of the fight in the dragon.”

Spike pointed a talon at him. “Hey, that’s a pretty good one! Mind if I use it?”

“You’ve really never heard it before? I think it’s older than I am.” He tilted his head. “There’s an awful lot of things you people haven’t heard of, I must say.”

Spike scratched the back of his neck. “I’m just glad to meet somebody who won’t crack a ‘short’ joke whenever I’m around.”

“Trust me,” Zaraturvara said, “in your case, smaller is better.”

“Oh yeah? What’s ‘my case’, exactly?”

“You’ve chosen to co-exist with non-dragons,” he said. “Nice catch by the way!”

Spike puffed his chest out again. “Thanks!”

Rarity pursed her lips. “Hrmph!”

“I meant you,” he said, and nodded to Rarity.

Spike’s eyes widened. “You mean I’m the nice catch?”

“Goodness yes! A dragon who isn’t going to set you on fire and swallow you whole? That’s one of the rarest things in the world. Compared to that, an ordinary unicorn is sort of a dime-a-dozen.”

There was an awkward pause.

“No-no-no!” Zaraturvar shook his head. “Oh what is wrong with my manners? I swear I didn’t mean to offend. Honestly, it just slipped out.”

She smiled back at him. “You don’t talk to a lot of people, do you?”

“Very rarely. I’m not very good at it.” He nodded to her. “You really are quite exceptional, you know. I’m just saying that your being a unicorn has nothing to do with it. You’re exceptional entirely on the basis of your own personal merits.”

“Really?” Rarity stroked a lock of her mane. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve tamed a dragon, of course. Not everyone can do that.”

“Whoa!” Spike shot to his feet and waved his hands. “Let’s not get carried away here! I’m not... I’m not tame! I’m scary! Rar!”

Zaraturvara rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say you were tame. Just that you’d been tamed. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Spike lowered his claws. “It’s... not?”

“Not at all. It’s your nature. It’s the purpose of your existence.”

“It is!?”

“That’s what a dragon is. Not scales and claws and fangs and fire... I mean, that’s what a dragon is made of. But what a dragon really is, truly, is the personification of a sin. Pride, wrath, greed, all that.”

Spike arched one eyebrow. “Whaa?”

“Tell me,” Zaraturvara said, “Do you people have stories of knights vanquishing dragons?”

Rarity and Spike nodded together, slowly.

“A knight doesn’t defeat a dragon with weapons and muscles and grunting. The knight wins because his heart is pure and his cause is just. The vanquishing of a dragon is a metaphor of virtue overcoming vice.”

Spike set his fists on his hips. “That’s just silly! Nobody ever fought a dragon with just virtue.”

Zaraturvara cleared his throat and raised his voice. “And so the King of Nerluc assaulted the Tarrasque with knights and catapults to no avail... but Saint Martha found the beast and charmed it with her hymns and prayers, and led back the tamed Tarrasque to the city. The people, terrified by the monster, attacked it when it drew nigh. But the monster offered no resistance, and died without a sound. Martha then preached to the people and converted them to Christianity. Sorry for what they had done to the tamed beast, they townspeople changed the name of their town to Tarascon in it’s memory.”

Rarity and Spike stared at the serpent in silence.

“Oh, come on... just look at you two! You’re the spitting image of Andromeda and the sea serpent. Zabava and Gorynych. The... that... whichever dragon Saint George slew, and the princess he rescued. Whatever her name was.” Zaraturvara nodded to each of them. “You were meant to be be together. It’s a match made in heaven!”

Spike wrung his claws together. “Does that mean I gotta be slain by some knight?”

“Don’t I get a say in any of this?” Rarity said.

“Oh don’t be so literal minded,” Zaraturvara said, ignoring Rarity. “The legend doesn’t say the dragon has to be slain. Only that it is vanquished.”

“You don’t honestly think...! The two of us would...!?” Rarity pointed at Spike. “But we’re just friends!”

Spike and Zaraturvara both stared at her, shocked.

“And people call me venomous,” Zaraturvara whispered.

“I mean... well, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just... we don’t really have anything in common.”

“Are you joking? You are the very embodiment of generosity and selflessness. He is the living embodiment of greed and pride. You grow in power as you pursue virtue, and he grows in power when those around him pursue sin. You’re the perfect match! There is no mortal being you cannot either chastise or proselytize to!”

Rarity stood up and ran away from the tree, sniffling.

Spike stood up, talons clenched. “Look what you did!”

Zaraturvara watched her run away. “Figures. People ask for the truth, and what do they do when they hear it?” He shook his head.

“Well you didn’t have to hurt her!”

The serpent reared up. “Life is suffering!” he roared.

The two stared each other down for a minute. Spike sat down on the grass and crossed his arms. “You didn’t have to be mean.”

“She’s afraid of you,” he said.

Spike eyed him.

“She’s afraid of you, and herself, and what that means. Up until now it’s all been a game, even if she didn’t realize it. Now she has to face the consequences of her relationship with you, and the possibility that it might progress to the next level.”

“How do you know all this, anyways? We just met.”

“Remember when she said ‘We’re just friends’? I saw the look on her face when she saw the look on your face. That particular look could fill a novel, cover to cover. You don’t need magic or divine wisdom to see these things. It’s obvious.”

“Will it progress? The relationship, I mean.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s frightening enough that it could.”

Spike gazed up at the tree. “You said I was the embodiment of something bad, right?”

“Pride, yes. One of the deadliest of all sins.”

“So... does that make me bad? Is it my destiny to blow up castles and eat villagers?”

Zaraturvara stared at him for a moment, slack jawed. “You’re... asking me... about destiny?”

Spike’s lower lip trembled. “Am I bad?”

The serpent tugged one of the branches down, dangling a shiny apple in front of him. “I cannot tell you... but I know one way for you to find out.”

“What’s that gonna do?”

“This is the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. If you eat of the fruit of the tree, you will know. You will grow powerful. You may even become an angel, or immortal.”

“But I thought you told Fluttershyit was the tree of power everlasting.”

The snake flexed it’s coils to affect a shrug. “Same thing. Knowledge is the only kind of power that really matters. There’s knowledge, and then there’s beating people up. That’s about it.”

Spike stroked his chin. “All I gotta do is eat the fruit, huh? What’s the catch?”

“Oh, thank God! I’m glad somebody is paying attention. The catch, as you say, is that you don’t know what the catch is until after you eat it.”

Spike eyed the fruit.

Zaraturvara gently let go of the branch. “In your case, I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s overkill. But I can tell you this: God created all things with a purpose in mind. Dragons grow strong in the presence of sin and vice, but they themselves need not be evil. They are merely a chastisement and a warning to keep others on the path to righteousness.”

“That doesn’t make any sense at all. How can dragons do evil stuff, but not be evil?”

Zaraturvara paused to think. “Tell, me Spike... is it evil to make a child suffer?”

“Are you kidding!? That’s the worst! You’d have to be a monster to do that!”

“Is it evil for a mother to punish a child when they have been disobedient?”

“Well, that’s completely...” Spike froze mid sentence and stared off into space.

“It’s quite a catch, isn’t it?” The snake flexed it’s coils. “I must say, it’s nice to finally meet someone who will listen to my questions.”

“Yeah.” Spike took a deep breath, then exhaled gustily. “So you’re saying I don’t have to be evil, just cause I embody evil?”

“You embody the evil in the hearts of others. That is all.”

“Do you think I’ll end up evil anyways? Is there anything I can do about it?”

The snake worked it’s jaw back and forth. “If you ever figure that one out, you let me know, all right?”

“Yeah. I can do that.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “Hey, listen. It’s been cool talking with you, but I gotta—”

“Right, right.” He nodded vigorously. “You’ve probably left her too long, already. You can blame me for delaying you.”

“Really? You’re cool with that?’

Zaraturvara rolled his eyes. “I’ve gotten used to it by now.”

Pinkie Pie hopped down the dirt road, all alone, humming tunelessly. She came to the wooden gate and paused to look at the lovingly hoof-carved sign atop the archway.

Paradise Estates... why does that sound familiar? She pushed the gate open and continued along the path. I guess welcome means welcome!

She approached the end of the road but paused as voices drifted back, angry and shouting. She crept off the beaten path and peered through the wall of shrubs: there in the clearing was a massive tree with a crown shaped like the puffy white clouds that dominated the highest reaches of the sky. The branches were laden with small purple fruit. A great cloth banner hung down from one of the lower branches, displaying a vertical, vaguely-hexagonal grid of ten interconnected circles. Words from an indecipherable language adorned every curve and line: the calligraphy was fine and flowing, yet strict and orderly. Ensconced within each of the ten circles were words of power and majesty.

A fig tree...?

“Don’t you even think of blaming me for any of this!”

Pinkie Pie flinched at the angry, hissing voice. She hunkered down lower and peered through the bushes again, and saw the very same clearing her friends had all described. Hill, tree, snake... two snakes.

“Where the hell did that come from? How is this not your fault!”

“You’re just a child, aren’t you? Even after all these years you’re a selfish, conceited child!”

“Selfish!? You knew from the very beginning that I had responsibilities! How is that childish?”

“What about me!? Don’t you have a responsibility to me? I’m sick and tired of staying in the shadow of that stupid tree of yours!”

“Oh, you didn not just insult the tree! Do not go there!”

“You know what? I will go there! You care more about that stupid shrub than you ever did about me! We never go anywhere, we never do anything, we never meet anyone... you expect me to spend my entire life babysitting an overgrown shrub?”

“It’s more than that! You have no idea how important—”

“Oh, would you shut up already? I know it’s more important to you than I am!”

“It’s more important than either of us! Besides, it’s a home for us, isn’t it? I don’t mind being a stay at home type!”

“You call this a home!? A real home is a hot cave next to a cold river! How am I supposed to live without a river? It’s barbaric!” One of the serpents dropped out of the tree and slithered across the grassy clearing. “That’s it. I’m done. We’re done.”

“What? No... no! You can’t just...” The second snake followed after her. “Just calm down! I didn’t mean any of it, really! You can’t just leave like this! Think of everything we... that we... well, think of everything!”

The female snake slithered out of the clearing and onto the dirt path, passing right by Pinkie Pie’s hiding spot: she was a huge hooded cobra with black and gold scales, except for a single golden scale in the center of her forehead. Her eyes were ringed with dark, sweeping mascara, and fine gold chains hung from piercings along the edges of her hood.

“You’ll be back!” The other serpent roared after her. “You’ll come crawling back before you even—”

She passed through the archway and slammed the gate behind her. The sound was loud, and the silence that followed was absolute. The snake in the tree stared at the dirt road, blank and dull-eyed. After a full minute, he glanced about the clearing.

Pinkie Pie slowly backed away and made her way back to the dirt path. Now’s probably not the best time for this.

The next day, Pinkie Pie made her way down the dirt path and through the gated arch. She paused at the end of the road and looked into the clearing: the serpent was hanging from the tree, just as dazed and blank-faced as yesterday.

Pinkie Pie took deep breath and stepped into the clearing.

The serpent’s head snapped to face her. “Ha! I knew you’d—” He froze as he caught sight of her.

“Hi mister snake,” she said softly.

He looked away.

Pinkie walked up the hill and sat by the tree. “Are you feeling okay?”

“What, me? Of course.” He tossed his head to one side. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, I came to visit you yesterday, and I sort of accidentally overheard—”

“What!? No!” He shook his head. “That wasn’t...! It’s not what you...! I mean, I don’t know what you think you heard, but... really, it’s nothing.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“Embarrassed? Me!?” He pointed at himself with the tip of his tail. “What have I got to be embarrassed about? Nothing, that’s what. I’m fine. Everything’s... just fine.”

“So... do you want to talk about it?”

He looked away. “Hmph.”

Pinkie Pie listened to the forest for awhile, watching as the tension bled out of the serpent’s coils.

“What was her name?”

“Renenutet,” he said. “Or Wadjet, or whatever the hell she’s calling herself now. I didn’t want her to change it, but she wouldn’t listen.”

“I think it’s a beautiful name.”

“Try telling her that. These days all she cares about is her career.” He rolled his eyes. “Irresponsible? Hah.”

“So... what are your responsibilities?”

“I guard the tree. What else would I be doing here?”

“So you stop people from eating the fruit? Is that it?”

“Stop them?” He glowered at her. “You just don’t have a clue, do you?”

Pinkie Pie looked up at him, serenely.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m kind of in a bad... sorry. That was unfair of me.”

Pinkie Pie cleared her throat. “I’ll never find anyone else, and nobody will ever love me.”

The serpent stared at her. “What?”

“It’s what you’re thinking right now. It’s what everybody thinks at a time like this.” She stood up and touched his cheek. “It’s okay to be hurt. But it’s not okay to give up all hope for the future. And it’s definitely not okay to blame yourself for everything.”

“Blame... myself?”

“Well yeah!” Pinkie Pie said, smiling. “Nothing is ever entirely your fault. Sometimes these things just happen. Sometimes people you blamed, and sometimes you deserve it, but you can’t let it ruin your whole life.”

The serpent darted forward and leaned against her neck, sobbing uncontrollably. Pinkie Pie flinched, but managed to keep from running away.

“You have no idea... how much I’ve wanted to hear that! You... you wouldn’t believe the things I’ve done... all the things I’ve been blamed for! So... so much...!”

“There there,” she said and patted the back of his neck. “Let it all out. There ya go.”

After a minute or so he pulled back and blew his nose. “Okay. Now I’m embarrassed.”

“That’s okay,” she said. “It’s allowed.”

He wiped his tear-streaked cheek against the side of one of his coils. “She’s really not coming back, is she? It’s really over.”

“That’s the wrong thing to worry about. You need to get ahold of yourself, whether she comes back or not. You need to take control of your life.”

“Control? Hah!” He pointed at the clearing. “When have I ever had any control over anything that happens to me? I’ve been a slave to this garden. Always have been, always will be. How am I supposed to change that?”

“You could leave.”

“Leave!? Are you insane? This is my entire purpose in life! It’s the reason for my existence!”

“Really? Says who?”

“God!” The snake shouted. “God Almighty himself created me to watch over this tree, and I’ll be damned—literally and figuratively—if I shirk my one and only God-given responsibility!”

Pinkie Pie stared at the snake, blankly.

The serpent sighed, exasperated. “You don’t have the slightest clue who God is, do you?”

She tilted her head. “Do you?”

“What?”

“Do you know who God is? He seems pretty important to you, but do you really understand him?”

“Well no, of course not. He’s utterly unknowable.”

“Then do you think, maybe, it might be just a little... ” Pinkie Pie wobbled her head back and forth. “I dunno... arrogant to say you know exactly what he’s thinkin’?”

The snake stared at her for a moment. His eyes flitted about, ever so slightly.

“Well tie me in a sheepshank,” he muttered. “Putting your own words in the big guy’s mouth is one of the biggest no-no’s there is, and I didn’t even... oh wow. I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

“This God fellow... what’s he like?”

“Well, I don’t know. Nobody does. He’s unknowable.” He frowned. “Well that’s not exactly true... he’s like any artist: you can learn about him by studying his works. And he does give us a few hints now and then, when he thinks we need it.”

“Is he the angry sort? Will he be mad at you if you make a mistake?”

“Oh, heavens no. He’ll forgive anything. At all. He has a rep for being a real old-testament fire-and-brimstone sort, but it all just a misconcep... hey, wait a second. Why are you so curious about this all of a sudden?”

“Come with me!” Pinkie Pie stood up and nodded to the dirt path. “I know a place that has the best milkshakes ever. You’d love ’em!”

“Milk shakes? Don’t be silly. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why not?”

“I must guard the tree. It’s my duty.”

“Is that really what he said? Were those his exact words?”

“Yes.” He frowned. “Well... no. But—”

“Let’s be honest,” Pinkie Pie said. “It’s not your job to prevent people from eating the fruit, is it?”

“What? No! Yes! I mean...” He shook his head. “It’s not that simple. Nothing is ever that simple.”

“If you really wanted to keep people out, you’d take down the sign and lock the gate.”

The snake stared at her. “There’s a gate?”

“Right over there. Come on! Don’t you deserve to live a little? To have your own life?”

“It’s not my choice. It’s as simple as that.”

Pinkie Pie turned to give him her full and undivided attention. “What does God want for you?”

“I’m... not comfortable answering that question. Can we please talk about something else?”

Pinkie Pie pursed her lips.

“Fine, fine. As far as I know, the purpose of mortal life is to... well... worship God and sing of his praises.”

Pinkie Pie arched an eyebrow.

“No-no-no, it’s not like that! I know it makes him seem incredibly self centered and arrogant and narcissistic and it’s nothing like that at all and people are always getting confused about that sort of thing and I can’t believe I’m telling you all this! Can we please just change the subject? It’s not my job to impart divine wisdom! There’s a reason I leave that sort of thing to the professionals!”

“So he wants you to know about him?” Pinkie tilted her head. “How can you do that if he’s unknowable?”

“Well, as I said: by studying his works. And through the teachings of his divine messengers.”

“Well I don’t see any divine messengers here.” She nodded back to the dirt path. “Why don’t we go study his works for a while?”

The serpent bit his lip, then glanced at the tree. “But what about—”

“Ut-ut-ut!” She waggled a hoof at him. “If you’re going to play the what-if game, then play it all the way through to the end. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Somebody could wander into the garden while I’m gone.”

“And?”

“And I wouldn’t be here to... well, to...”

“Is it your job to stop them from eating the fruit?”

“No, actually. But I do end up turning most folks away.”

“And if somepony really, truly wanted to eat it—if they’re totally determined—is there anything you can really do to stop them?”

He worked his jaw. “I suppose not. I mean, I guess I could stop them physically... but that would totally defeat the purpose. It’s supposed to be a moral conundrum. Not a wrestling match.”

“And if somebody does eat the fruit, will God be angry at you?”

“God doesn’t get angry. Not as you know it, at least. He’s above such petty things. There is vengeance, yes, and justice... but not anger.”

“Will he forgive you?”

“Of course he will. God forgives all, without exception. Well, with one exception... but that’s one of those funny catch-twenty-twos. It’s hardly his fault.”

Pinkie Pie walked over and gave his head a gentle tug. “Come on! There’s a whole world out there just waiting to be explored, all full of wonderful and amazing things! Why would God put you in the world if he didn’t want you to experience it? You deserve to learn and grow, don’t you?”

He followed after her, glancing at the tree. “But... but...!”

“If he gave you this job, he must trust you to do it well. Would you rather blindly obey, or use your own judgment?”

“Well... it is important to obey the spirit of the law, instead of just the letter... and actions are more important than words...”

“There you go! You need to stop making decisions based on what you’re afraid of. It’s okay to make mistakes, as long as you learn from them. It’s much worse to do nothing at all, forever and ever!”

“I guess... yeah. Slothfulness is pretty bad.”

The serpent’s body snapped taut, yanking Pinkie Pie back a step. She looked back at the very tip of his tail, still coiled around the base of the tree.

“I can’t carry you all the way,” she said. “You have to take the first step yourself.”

“Step? I don’t have feet. Or legs.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dang literal minded.”

He wriggled in place for a moment. “Look, I don’t think this is such a good idea after all.”

“That’s the catch,” she said. “You won’t know if something will work out until you go ahead and try it. There’s no other way.” She set a hoof under his chin and tilted his head up. “But I have been there, and I’ve seen the world that’s waiting for you... and baby, you ain’t seen nuthin’ yet!”

“Really?”

“You have no idea how amazing and wonderful it is out there! And if you stay in this little clearing forever, you’ll never know.” She took a step backwards. “But that’s your decision. I can’t make it for you.”

“A whole world, huh?”

“Yup!”

“Amazing, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. Big time. If this God fellow really did make the whole thing, He really knew what he was doing.”

The serpent reared it’s head up. After a moment he slithered forward. He looked back at the tip of his tail, no longer touching the tree.

“Whoa.”

“The road is this-a-way. Come on!” Pinkie Pie hopped to the edge of the clearing. “You won’t regret it, I promise!”

“I hope not.” The serpent slithered after her, eyes darting about. “Something about this just seems... I dunno. Wrong, somehow.”

Pinkie Pie hopped down Ponyville’s main street with a broad smile and a tuneless hum. Everypony they passed gasped in shock and ran away at a gallop, fleeing into buildings or through alleys. Doors slammed shut, window shutters fell into place, and “closed” signs appeared in storefronts.

“Can’t say I find this particularly surprising,” the serpent said. “Ponies and serpents, after all.”

“They just need to get to know you, that’s all! Put on a smile and be on your best behavior, and I’m sure they’ll warm right up.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He watched as a mare dragged two small children out of the street and ran away screaming. “Look, is this going to be a problem?”

“Well it’s not like there’s anything you can do about it. You are what you are.”

“Actually, I can do something about it. I don’t have to appear as a serpent.”

“Huh?” Pinkie Pie stopped hopping. “But that’s what you are, right? A snake.”

“There’s no law that says I have to be. It’s like the tree... sometimes it’s apples, and sometimes it’s figs or pomegranates. It’s taken on many forms throughout the ages. As have I. The physical form isn’t as important as the underlying meaning.”

“So you can change what you are?”

“I get it from my father’s side, actually. Do you think it would startle anybody? I mean, you know... shape-changers can be pretty startling if you’re not expecting them.”

She looked at the deserted street around them. “I really don’t think it’s going to be a problem. So how exactly do you—”

She looked back and saw a stag, sleek and athletic, with a sheath of glittering ruby scales along it’s neck and back. It’s head was a cross between that of a dragon and a serpent, and a pair of long, twisting horns swept from the back of it’s head.

“Oh-mi-gosh! Is that you, mister snake?”

“It is I, yes.” He nodded his head and bent one knee, elegant and graceful. “Is this better?”

“Oh... wow, yeah. You look... well, I mean... just wow!” Pinkie Pie stared at him for a moment. “So I guess I can’t call you mister snake anymore. What are you?”

“A quilin, actually. You wouldn’t be familiar with them.”

“If I’d seen one before, I’d definitely remember it. You look amazing, mister quilin!”

“Zaraturvara, if you please.”

“That’s my name. I know it’s kind of a mouthful... you can just call me mister snake if you like. I won’t mind.”

She smiled at him. “Zaraturvara... I think it’s beautiful name. It sounds musical!”

“Thank you.” he shuffled his hooves: the cloven hooves of a deer. “So, where were we going?”

“Right, right!”

Pinkie Pie and Zaraturvara sat at a patio table together, waiting quietly. A whole crowd of ponies had gathered by the road to stare at the shimmering, ruby-scaled newcomer. Eventually, a waiter approached the table and set out a pair of tall glasses filled with foamy white liquid.

Pinkie Pie stuck a bendy-straw in each of them and turned one to face him. “Here you go!”

Zaraturvara sipped at the straw. “Thank you.”

“So, what do quilins do, exactly?”

“They’re sacred creatures that bring serenity and good fortune, and only the dragon and the phoenix are held in higher regard. They’re pretty ferocious looking but utterly peaceful... they only attack the wicked, and will never willingly harm any living thing no matter how small.” He gripped the straw in his cloven hoof and stirred his drink. “They appear most often to benevolent rulers and wise sages. In fact, the birth of the great Confucius was foretold by the appearance of a quilin.”

“Wow!” Pinkie Pie leaned her elbows on the table. “Who’s that?”

“You wouldn’t know him, but he was very wise. He was a great teacher who supported the cause of peace and enlightenment. Nobody can really decide if Confucianism is a religion or a philosophy... that’s what I love about it.” He sipped from his drink. “You know I’m not actually a quilin. Not really.”

“You could always pretend to be one. Like make believe.”

“Oh no you don’t. That’s a good way to get into great deal of trouble, even by my standards. The only reason I’m assuming this form at all is because nobody within a thousand leagues has the slightest clue what they are.”

“Well, you could still do nice things for ponies, right? You could be all peaceful and stuff.”

“People don’t care about what you really are on the inside. I used to think that, but it’s just too much to ask of people. That’s not the way the world works.” He sighed. “I mean, really... a quilin shows up to herald the birth of a great sage, and they get treated like sacred royalty for the rest of recorded history. But what about me? What happens when I try to impart wisdom to the primitive and ignorant? How do I go down in history? Ask me if that’s fair, why don’t you?”

“Sorry,” she said.

They sipped at their drinks and ignored the constant flow of gawking passersby.

“What’d you do?” she said.

“Pardon?”

“It sounds like you got in trouble for something. What was it all about?”

“I let somebody eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge. And then she let somebody else eat of the fruit of the tree and it all went downhill from there. Once that can of worms was opened, there was no closing it. Everybody thinks I tricked her into it, but she was the one who brought it up in the first place. She asked me about the tree, and I called it like I saw it. That’s it.” He tapped the table. “I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone about this. Not once. I complain about it all the time, but it’s not the same as just talking.”

“How much trouble did you get into?”

“Not much. Not nearly as much as the stories would have you believe. What burns me up is the reputation I get... the stories people tell.” He leaned on the table and stroked the edge of his cup. “It’s not like any of them were there. They can’t imagine there might have been unusual circumstances. I can’t stand being cast as a black-and-white person.”

“Wow,” she said. “You’re all complex and stuff.”

“It’s what defines me. People need to know that nothing is ever as simple as it seems.”

“And kinda cute, too!”

He jerked his head up. “What?”

“Well, yeah. Why do you think everypony’s staring at you?”

He looked at the road by the patio table. The crowd of mares immediately looked away, whispering and giggling.

“Walking around is nice,” Pinkie Pie said, “but we ought to do something special. It’s your one day off, so why don’t you pick?”

“I can’t really think of anything, off the top of my...” he straightened up in his seat. “Actually, some music would be nice. Does music exist here?”

“Does it ever! What kind do you like?”

“Violin music. I haven’t heard a violin in ages.”

She grinned at him. “I know just the place.”

Later that evening Pinkie Pie stumbled out of Ponyville’s most popular tea-house, leaning against Zaraturvara’s shoulder and sobbing uncontrollably. They walked all the way down main street and through sweet Apple Acres, and only when they reached the edge of the everfree forest did she pause to blow her nose on a lace kerchief.

“Sorry,” he said. “I probably should have picked something a little happier.”

She looked up at him. “What? Oh, no! That was the best sad music ever. It’s one of my favorites! Sometimes it’s good to be sad, because when you stop being sad it makes the happy times even happier.”

He watched her for a time, lost in thought.

“What? Is there something on my face?”

He dabbed the lace kerchief against her runny nose one last time. “Pinkie Pie. I think you are, without a doubt, the wisest fool I’ve ever met. And let me tell you: I’ve dealt with some first-class fools.”

“Aww! You’re just saying that.”

“I don’t ‘just say’ anything. It’s true. And I had a perfectly marvelous time.”

“Really? I hope it wasn’t too boring.”

“That was some of the best violin music I’ve ever heard, and I’m quite the connoisseur.”

“You’re sure you wouldn’t have preferred a party or something?”

“I don’t really like crowds. It was nice just walking and seeing the sights.” He looked at the village rooftops in the distance. “Though it’s a shame we never danced. People say I’m a pretty good dancer.”

She smiled up at him. “We could always go out again, sometime. Just the two of us. Dancing.”

“Out?”

“No, I mean... not out out! Not going out! That’s not what I...” She fussed with her mane. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I mean, we could just go and... y’know... dance. Would you like that?”

“Wow. That would be... really weird, wouldn’t it?”

They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment.

Pinkie Pie cleared her throat and nodded to the woods. “So here we are. At your place.”

“Yeah.” He smiled at her for a moment, but quickly regained his composure. “Listen. I just broke up with somebody, very recently... and... I wouldn’t want you to...”

“Oh, right. That.”

“I think I have to finish what I started, you know? I’m kind of a mess right now, and I need to sort myself out before I start anything else. I wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“No, that’s... I understand. Totally.”

“You’re not angry at me?”

She touched his cheek. “You’re being honest with me. I appreciate it.”

“Thank you for understanding. I really did have a fantastic day, you know.”

“Me too.” She glanced into the forest. “Hey, do you mind if I walk with you to the clearing? I might as well pick up those baskets my friends left behind.”

“Of course. It’s not far.”

They walked into the forest and, after only a few steps, came to the gated archway. He opened the gate and stood aside, waiting for her to pass.

“Aww! Just like a true gentle-colt!”

“I may as well get some use out of my manners.”

They came to the edge of the clearing and froze, stock still, as they heard a chorus of shouting, arguing voices. There were three colorful young fillies at the foot of the tree, rolling around on the grass and wrestling with each other.

“I saw that one first! Gimme gimme!”

“Nuh uh! Nuh uh! Mine, mine mine!”

Zaraturvara stamped a cloven hoof and roared with the voice of a dragon. “What the hell is going on in here!?”

The three fillies spun to look at him, frozen in fear. Their mouths were all stuffed full of fruits—all shapes and colors—and juice and saliva dribbled down their chins.

“It was her idea!” They said, each pointing at the next.

Pinkie Pie ran over to them, wide eyed. “Oh, you silly fillies! What have you done? What were you thinking!?”

Sweetie Belle’s lower lip trembled. “But the sign said welcome!”

“Don’t you talk with your mouth full! How did you three even find this place!?”

Applebloom rubbed the back of her neck. “I heard Applejack talking about the snake and the tree, and we just wanted a quick peek to see what all the fuss was about. I was with her when she got lost, so I thought—”

“No, you didn’t! You didn’t think at all! Why would you ever go into the forest at night without a grown-up to go looking for a giant snake!?” She looked back at Zaraturvara. “I am so incredibly sorry about this!”

Zaraturvara walked to the top of the hill in a daze. “My first day off in three and a half billion years... and this.”

Pinkie Pie began shepherding the fillies away from the tree. “We’re so very sorry about this. I swear it won’t ever happen again.”

“Well you’re right about that,” he said.

“We didn’t mean to!” Scootaloo said. “We didn’t know the tree was important! Honest!”

“Yeah,” Zaraturvara muttered, “because that excuse worked so well the first time.”

Pinkie Pie pushed the fillies behind her. “Please oh please don’t blame them! It wasn’t their fault, honest!”

“You’re right,” he said with a scowl. “It wasn’t their fault at all.”

They stared at each other for awhile.

“What’s gonna happen?” Applebloom whimpered.

“To you?” he said. “You three are going back to your homes to tell your families that you wandered into a dangerous forest alone, at night, without asking permission. And from this day forward, you will honor your fathers and mothers, that it may go well with you and that you may live long in the land.”

Scootaloo furrowed her eyebrows. “Wha?”

He leaned closer. “And if you do not honor your fathers and mothers, and remain disobedient children, you will be gobbled up by a giant snake. Things will not go well with you, and you will most certainly not live long in the land. Are we clear?”

All three fillies stared up at him, wide eyed.

“Good. Now go and wait by the edge of the clearing.”

They darted off.

“I’m so sorry,” Pinkie Pie said.

“They’ll be fine. The fruit of the tree of knowledge won’t have any effect on a child. They’re innocent, so they already know all that stuff.”

“They... do?”

“It’s the grownups who forget and need to be reminded. The miracle of the tree lies in the coexistence of knowledge and innocence.”

“So nothing bad will happen? You won’t get into trouble?”

“Not this time, no.”

She sighed. “Talk about lucky.”

“More like a wakeup call.” He looked back at the tree. “He works in mysterious ways.”

“Who does?”

He sighed. “I’d better get back to the... y’know.”

“Right, the tree.”

“Yeah. That.”

“So, can we hang out again? Do you think we could go dancing sometime?”

He worked his jaw. “I think that would be a bad idea. I have responsibilities.”

“That’s cool. I understand.” She took up the wicker baskets and the red-and-white checkered cloths. “Do you regret it?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t. But I did enjoy it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

She walked down the hill, but paused to look back at the tree. Zaraturvara, a snake once more, hung from the lower branches just as he had when she’d first seen him. She remembered reading that serpents could sit perfectly still for days on end, waiting for prey to wander past... and if none did, they’d simply starve to death where they sat. Never moving. Never blinking. She wasn’t sure if it was true... but looking at him now, she could believe it might be.

“Doesn’t it bother anypony in the slightest that there’s a gi-normous snake livin’ right on our doorsteps?”

Everypony in the library looked up at Applejack. Nopony said anything.

“Oh, come on! Shouldn’t we do something to get rid of ’em?”

“Why?” said Twilight Sparkle. “He’s not likely to leave his tree for any reason. Probably territorial.”

“He’s rude,” Fluttershy said, “but it’s not like he’s dangerous. All he does is talk about creepy stuff.”

Rainbow Dash turned a page in her book. “He’s kind of a putz if you ask me.”

“I don’t care if he’s a putz,” Applejack said, “I care if he’s up to something! He’s covered in trouble like it’s goin’ out of style!”

“What sort of trouble?”

“Well, like... okay, I don’t have the faintest clue. But he’s up to something for sure and it jest can’t be good.”

“He’s just a load of hot air,” Rainbow Dash grumbled. “He doesn’t have the guts to actually do anything.”

“I think he’s lonely,” said Pinkie Pie. “I get the feeling he’s always been that way. Like he’s seen the whole world go by, but he’s never been a part of it. He’s never gotten the chance to make a real difference.” She gazed out of a window. “...Except once.”

Applejack stared at her. “You’ve got a crush on ’em, don’t you!?”

Pinkie Pie sat up straight. “What!? No! Don’t be silly!”

“That no good, greasy varmint’s wormed his way right into your heart, hasn’t he? Well you’d best get it into your head that he’s no good for anypony!”

Rarity stood up and locked eyes with Applejack. “Would you please relax?”

Applejack looked away and pawed at the floor.

“You’re blowing this completely out of proportion and frankly, it’s embarrassing to watch. Fluttershy was right: he’s just your average, everyday talking snake in an apple tree and there’s nothing special about that. You’ve simply got to get over your fears.”

“Fears!?” Applejack set a hoof on her chest. “Me? Afraid? Of all the—!”

“If you aren’t afraid of him, then why don’t you go and deal with him yourself? You’re the only pony here who hasn’t met him yet, and yet you’re the one who’s complaining the loudest.”

Applejack frowned at her. “I did meet ’em.”

“For all of three seconds,” Rainbow Dash said, “and you ran away screaming like a little baby.”

“Well first impressions are usually right, aren’t they?”

“No,” said Rarity, “They really aren’t.”

Applejack turned and stormed out of the library.

“Finally,” Rainbow Dash said, “some peace and quiet.”

Pinkie Pie looked away from her window. “Do you think we should go with her?”

“Nah,” Dash said. “She’s not going anywhere near the thing. She’s just a big scaredy cat around snakes. Give ’er some time to cool off and she’ll forget all about it by the end of the week.”

Fluttershy glanced at the door, still ajar. “You don’t think she’ll do anything hasty, do you?”

“Hasty?” Rainbow Dash snuggled back into her beanbag chair and turned the page of her book. “This is Applejack we’re talking about.”

Applejack tromped down the dirt road at the edge of the everfree forest and shoved open the rickety wooden gate. She marched into the clearing, straight up the hill, and stopped right next to the tree.

“Are you there, mister snake?” She slammed a hoof against the trunk. “I know yer up there somewhere. I gotta have words with you.”

A prickle ran up her spine as a shadow slid down the trunk of the tree. A faint hissing lowered into place behind her. She turned around and met the serpent eye to eye.

She took a deep breath and flexed her shoulders. “Ah’m back.”

“And I’m here,” he said.

“Right. Well. About that.”

“Yes?”

“I wanna know what yer deal is. And no funny business.”

“I guard the tree.”

“And what’s so special about this tree, then? Why can’t you go find some other place to live?”

“It’s the tree of knowledge. It’s completely and utterly unique.”

“Well, go on. Shoo. We don’t want you around here no more.”

“What am I supposed to do? Pick up my tree and take it with me?”

She nodded. “It just so happens that I run an orchard, and we know all about the proper way to relocate a healthy tree. We can have it done in a thrice.”

“A fellow arboriculturalist, are we? Well I appreciate the offer, but this particular tree is both unyielding and immutable. It cannot be relocated.” He affected a shrug. “Though the garden can be.”

“The... what? The garden?”

“Yes. The garden itself moves about on occasion.”

“Well how does that work?”

“I don’t know. It moves on it’s own.”

Applejack glowered at the serpent.

“Now you listen here. I know you weren’t here a week ago, which means you moved this tree somehow... and that means you can move it away. And I’m not leavin’ this spot until you do that! I don’t care what it takes to convince you.”

“Convince me?”

“I’m not an unreasonable sort. I’m perfectly willin’ to cut a deal.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of the serpent’s mouth. “Well this just got very interesting.”

“Well? Are we dealin’ or not?”

“I think we can deal. But I hope you realize just what you’re getting into here. I’m somewhat known for being a difficult dealer.”

She nodded, briskly. “Just as long as you stick to your end of the bargain, that’s all that matters to me.”

“All right.” He nodded to the tree. “Eat of the tree. Then I’ll leave.”

She frowned at him. “That’s all?”

“That’s all. Take it or leave it.”

She eyed the diverse array of fruits hanging from the branches: all different shapes, sizes and colors. “Which one?”

“That’s up to you.”

“What’s yer game? What happens if I eat ’em?”

“Not my problem.”

She glared at him. “Yer gonna be straight with me from start to finish. Tell me what happens if I eat the fruit.”

“This is the tree of knowledge... the knowledge of good and evil.”

“And what’s that mean, exactly?”

The serpent watched her for a moment.

“Tell me, miss Applejack. Is it wrong to steal?”

“What the hey kind of question is that? Of course it is!”

“What if a building were burning down? Would you steal water from your neighbor’s river to quench the fire? Do you think that would be wrong?”

Applejack glared at him. “Don’t you play them fancy mind games with me.”

“You don’t think!” he snapped. “You don’t think about it, because you’re not equipped to! And until you eat of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, you never will.”

“You really believe that?” she pointed up. “That just eating a piece of fruit will change the way I think?”

“It’s a metaphor,” he said, “but the change it inflicts upon you is very real.”

“How long will it last?”

“It will last until you die, and further still into the eternity that awaits you. And it will go on to affect your children’s children’s children, so on and so forth.”

“Eternity!?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? You can live on after death. The immortality of the soul cannot be quenched by mere physical threats or hardships. A paradise awaits you in the world beyond.” He tilted his head. “That’s the gimmick, you see.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, there.” Applejack took a step back. “Are you sayin’ this tree is gonna do something to me... after I die?”

“Yes. That’s the entire point.”

“But nothing happens after you die. You just disappear. Gone. Poof.”

“At the moment, yes.” The serpent’s voice softened. “But it doesn’t have to be that way.”

Applejack’s eyes flicked up to the branches. “This is crazy. You’re crazy.”

“But what if I’m right?”

“But it’s crazy.”

“Then what if I’m crazy and right? What then? Just... use your imagination this one time. Please. If what I’ve said is true, what would your decision be?”

Applejack bit her lip. “Well how should I know? What if you’re trying to trick me or somethin’?”

“So what if I am?”

Applejack walked in a tiny circle, muttering to herself. “Okay... if the tree is good, then... no, that’s not right. But what if it’s...I can’t believe I’m even thinking about this!”

“Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I need to talk to the princess. They’ll know what to do.”

“Cheating is lying, and lying is wrong.”

“What? Did you call me cheater!?”

“This princess of yours has been making all your moral decisions for you. She’s controlled every aspect of your civilization for as long as you can remember, and because of this you’ve never had to think about anything important.”

“But... but they’re good ponies! They know what’s best!”

“You are extraordinarily fortunate to have fallen into the clutches of such wise and benevolent dictators, but that does not change what they are.”

Applejack stared at the snake, aghast.

“You’ve never thought about these things before,” he said, “because you lack the capacity to know good and evil.”

“Now just... just hold on there.” Applejack removed her hat and scrunched her eyes shut. “If... the tree... will let me know... good and evil...”

“Yes?”

“Then I’ll be able to tell if the tree itself is good or evil. I’ll know if you’re good or evil.”

“...And?”

“Are you saying that this fruit is the only thing that can help me figure that out?”

“There is no other path to the knowledge of good and evil. Of course, the tree has taken on many shapes and forms over the ages... but it all boils down to the same thing in the end.”

“Then I can’t know,” she said. “I can’t know if I should eat the fruit until after I’ve already eaten it.”

The snake smiled broadly. “We have a breakthrough! Oh, this is magnificent! You have no idea how proud of you I am right now!”

“Well, great. That’s just great. I can’t win.”

“This isn’t a game,” he said. “Think of it as an opportunity. You don’t win or lose those.”

“So take it or leave it? That’s the deal?”

“Pretty much.”

Applejack stared up at the fruit for some time.

“Knowledge of good and evil, huh? Well, ah reckon it’s mighty important to know right from wrong. We’d all be livin’ in caves and eatin’ crabgrass if it weren’t for that sort of thing. I’m not really seein’ any downside to all this.”

“Does this mean you’ve made your decision?”

“Might as well get it over with, ah suppose. Gimme a fruit before I come to my senses.”

“Which one?”

“Well, aren’t they all the same?”

“Quite the opposite: They are all unique. One of these fruits—and only one—will grant you power everlasting.”

“What about the rest?”

“Death,” he said.

Applejack’s eyes shot wide open. “That wasn’t part of the deal! There must be hundreds of ’em up there!”

“It’s not part of any deal. It’s just the way things are.”

“You’re mad as a jackrabbit in july if you think I’ll risk dyin’ just to get you offa my doorstep!”

“It’s not about me. It’s not even about you.” He slithered out of the tree and coiled on the ground around her hooves. “How important is the truth? How far would you go to find it? Could you live in a world knowing you were incapable of telling fact from false? Right from wrong? Would such a world be worth living in?”

Applejack leaned away from him as he loomed closer, and a droplet of sweat trickled down her brow.

“Some people really do think the truth is worth dying for. Or would you rather live in ignorance?”

“I can tell when folks are lying to me, you know. I can tell every time. So why can’t I read you? Yer like a blank page to me. That’s never happened before.”

“That would be cheating. You need to do this yourself.”

Applejack gazed up at the branches, and at the hundreds of colorful shapes. Her eyes wandered between them, back and forth, dizzy with thought. Her eyes settled on a shining, golden apple and her vision cleared all at once.

“That one.”

The snake’s body slipped underneath her and hoisted her up into the air, her nose inches from the golden apple. She stared at it’s shiny surface and saw a reflection of her own face.

“You can still turn away,” the snake said. “You can still decide not to eat it.”

She squinted at him. “Has that ever worked? Has anypony ever changed their mind at the very last second?”

He shook his head. “Not even once.”

Applejack snatched the apple in her teeth, tore it off the stem, and tossed it into her mouth whole. The snake lowered her back to the ground and waited patiently as she chewed and swallowed. Several minutes passed as she stared off into space.

“Well?”

Applejack looked at him, askance. “Are you... the devil?”

“The devil is a concept that encompasses a variety of very different—”

“Answer me! Are you?”

“The devil would lie, and anyone else would tell the truth. You’d get the same answer either way.”

Her eyes flicked over him, trembling. “You’re not evil.”

He arched his eyebrows. “Really?”

“You’re not good, either. You’re neither.”

“Oh... well.” He swallowed. “That’s a little disappointing, actually. But I suppose I can live with it.”

“I picked the wrong fruit, didn’t I? Why didn’t it kill me?”

“Did you think you’d keel over on the spot? That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“No, no! This is serious! I picked the wrong fruit!” She frowned. “No... wait. The wrong fruit was the right fruit. I’m gonna die of old age, aren’t I? Just like everybody else?”

“Indeed.”

“But... but that’s horrible! You can’t just... you can’t just let me die like that! What’s gonna happen to me then, huh?” She walked in place, glancing left and right. “No, I mean... I’m actually going to die! It’s really gonna happen, and there’s nothin’ I can do about it! I don’t even know how or when it’s gonna happen: it could be a hundred years from now, or it could happen tomorrow!”

“Look, I know it’s a lot to take in all at once, but there’s—”

“Aahhh! All my friends are gonna die too, aren’t they? All of ’em! Either I gotta watch them die, or they gotta watch me die! I don’t know which would be worse! And what about my family? I can’t just leave little Applebloom all alone, without a big sister! She’d be—”

“Okay, maybe... one of us needs a little nap or something.”

She shoved her face up against his, spitting and snarling. “This is no time fer nappin! I’m dyin’ a little bit every second and theres absolutely nothin’ I can do about it!”

He reared up above her. “Would you settle down, already!?”

Applejack clenched her jaw tight. Tears trickled down her face. “I wanna go back. Back to the way things were.”

Zaraturvara slowly shook his head. “It’s always been this way. You just didn’t know it.”

“Well I don’t wanna know anymore.” She curled up on the ground and sniffled. “It’s too big... it’s just too big.”

“You want my advice? If you try and swallow it all at once, you’ll go crazy. Give it time. Visit your friends. They’ll give you everything you need.”

She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked up at the tree. “Yer a liar, ya know that? This isn’t how it was supposed to be. Ya lied to me.”

“Nothing I said was—”

“You lied right to my face! You said it’d let me tell the difference between good and evil, but I can’t! It’s even more muddled up now than it ever was before!”

“I never said it would help you tell the difference. Only that it would show you that there is a difference. That good exists, and evil exists, and the two can intermingle if you allow it.” He set her hat back on her head. “That is the task that lies before you now. You must learn to differentiate between good and evil. Don’t concern yourself too much with finding the right answers... worry about finding the right questions.”

“How’m I supposed to do that, huh?”

“It’ll come to you. Give it time.”

“What am I supposed to do when that happens?”

The snake paused to consider. When he spoke, he chose his words with great care. “I’d suggest... you explain everything to your friends. They will understand. The princesses as well: I expect they’ve been looking forward to this day for a long time.”

“But how can I explain any of this? How can I get them to understand something so... big? I thought only the fruit of the tree could do that.”

“You are the tree now,” he said with a smile. “And you might want to buy some comfortable shoes. You and your friends are going to be doing a great deal of walking.”

The Change You Wish to See

The wishing well, the wishing well,
For all your hopes and dreams to tell.
In darkest night, with no moonlight,
You wish it with a penny bright.

A small group of colts and fillies sang as they skipped along to school. The sun blazed overhead, and not far from it, another bright star shone. Not that anypony could see it. It wasn’t really part of Luna’s domain; for only a couple of hours before dawn, it would look over the landscape, but soon enough, the sun would overpower it.

Always wishing, these ponies. By a well, over a birthday cake, on a star. First star I see tonight. Always the evening star, never the morning. Never the morning.

Rarity put down the scissors and pins she was levitating. Heaving a sigh, she slipped out Carousel Boutique’s front door and trotted through the deserted streets. Thick clouds above had completely obscured the moon, but she knew the way. When she had arrived at a familiar clearing just outside of town, she walked the last few steps to the low stonework of an old well and sat.

“Look at me. Even wasting time here, when I don’t have enough of it to spare.” She let her eyes drift closed and slumped a little closer to the ground.

Behind her, a dark shape slowly bulged from the underside of a large branch. It fell to the ground, piece by piece, like thick globs of sap, each one making a wet splat. It grew little by little, with each new drip, until it surged upright and stumbled forward. As Rarity caught herself nodding off, the amalgamation slid up beside her and reached an oily arm around her shoulder.

Rarity jumped and yelped as she banged a foreleg against one of the well’s timbers. “Oh! I didn’t expect anypony else to be here at this time of night.” Rubbing her bruise a bit, she turned to see her unexpected companion, but couldn’t make anything out in the darkness. “Had I known, I wouldn’t have been spouting off my personal thoughts like that. It’s not... ladylike.”

“Oh, you having nothing to fear from me. We’re all friends here, after all. I didn’t mean to startle you, dear.” The voice’s source withdrew a bit before moving around to the far side of the well. “I’m much like you. I just found myself a bit out of sorts and needed to take a walk to clear my head.”

“I can certainly understand that,” Rarity said, holding a hoof to her chest. “I’ve got so many orders due. In fact, there are six dresses that need to be shipped off to Canterlot by noon today. I’m not even halfway finished, but... I felt like I might collapse.” She took a deep breath and let it out gradually, bracing a hoof against the masonry.

“Of course, of course. We all have competing demands on our time. Always in a rush. It can help to stop and vent once in a while.”

“Yes, but... at the expense of the very thing I lack, it would seem.” Rarity pursed her lips and drooped her ears. “You see, my personal life often takes a back seat to the professional, but I simply can’t disappoint my clients. I have a reputation to maintain. However, you’d think that after all these years at it, I’d have found the balance.”

“Who could possibly blame you? Your job provides you the means to have a personal life in the first place.”

“I suppose so.” After brushing away a few strands of mane she could feel against her cheek, Rarity stood back up and gave a weak smile. “Well, the sun will be rising soon, and I still have much work to do. I should be going.” She creased her brow a bit as the figure moved back around the well toward her. “You’ve been a good listener.”

“Thank you, dear. I’ve found that it’s something I do rather well. And now, that sense is telling me that there’s more to it. Please pardon my being forward. I don’t mean to pry, but if it might help...”

“Well, I...” Rarity looked downward and turned her head away.

“It would only take a moment.”

Letting a long minute of silence pass, Rarity finally answered, “It’s just... my sister...”

“Go on.”

“I rather enjoyed the closeness we shared some days ago at the Sisterhooves Social. It’s not really something I’d made time for, but it meant so much to her.” The faintest pink glow began to breach the horizon, and even in that low light, her eyes glimmered. “She’s growing up so fast, and she’s becoming an interesting young lady. I owe it to her, as well as to myself. I wish I could spend more time with her.”

“You wish?”

Nodding, Rarity cocked her head toward the well. “Maybe that’s what drew me here. Just a bit of foalish silliness. I haven’t been here in years.” She sighed and shook her head. “Sweetie Belle can be a lot to handle, to be sure. But she’s my sister, after all. I’d like to play dress-up with her, watch a movie, talk about her dreams... but who has the time? And frankly, at this point, why would she want to?” Rarity sat in the grass once more and wiped a hoof across her nose. “She’s learned quite well to do without.”

“It’s never too late.” As it approached, Rarity still could only make out a vague form. Finally looking directly at it, she couldn’t discern a face, even in the growing dawn light. “I think you’ll find that you have more time than you realize.”

Rarity could just make out a pair of eyes in the shadow. They were right next to her. She lifted a hoof off the ground to be ready for... something. To run. To hold up to her face. To push the thing away. Only she hadn’t. Her hoof sat unmoving while she tried to tear her gaze away from those eyes.

Trotting from one of her ponyquins back to the shelves of fabric, Rarity paused to look in the mirror. Try though she might, she couldn’t get her eyes more than halfway open. Her frayed coat hadn’t been brushed in days, and her mane stuck out at all angles. Turning her head this way and that to see if the bags under her eyes were a trick of the shadows, she sighed. The glow around her horn fizzled out, letting the sketch she was carrying drift to the floor.

She picked it up in her mouth and walked back over to her table, where yet another half-finished shawl lay. Gritting her teeth for a moment, she managed to coax a feeble glow from her horn and set her needle to looping through the fabric once more. She dared not run her sewing machine in these pre-dawn hours, so it meant doing everything by hoof.

Her workroom should have been a light and airy place. But the curtains had all been drawn for some time, and all the windows were tightly shut. A cardboard sign beside the front door read, “Please pardon the inconvenience, but by appointment only until further notice.”

Awaking with a start, Rarity looked around in the broad daylight. She’d made little progress overnight. And she was already a week overdue. Glancing at the clock, she wiped a trace of spittle from her cheek.

She shot to her hooves, sending her stool clattering to the floor as she dashed into the kitchen. A few minutes later, she emerged with a steaming bowl of vegetable broth and carried it upstairs to Sweetie Belle’s room.

“Are you awake, dear?” she whispered as she poked her head through the doorway. Getting no response, she gingerly set the bowl down on the bedside table. She was just turning to leave when she heard a stirring under the covers and pricked her ears toward the sound. “Sweetie Belle?”

Her sister rolled over to face the door and craned her neck to squint at Rarity. Sweetie Belle plopped her head back down onto the pillow as she gathered the sheet, comforter, and quilt more tightly around herself. The entire bed shook with her violent shivering.

“Here you go, dear. This will help warm you,” Rarity said as she levitated a spoonful of soup. Sweetie Belle squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “Please. For me. You need to keep your strength up.”

Sweetie Belle tucked her chin and grimaced as she gulped hard, then slurped the bit of broth. One spoonful at a time, she made her way through half the bowl before she shook her head once more.

“That’s a good girl,” Rarity said, smiling as she wiped the sweat from her sister’s forehead with a dry washcloth. “Now, if I draw you a hot bath, will you come down the hall with me? I think it will make you feel a little better. And breathing the steam should do you some good. I’ll give you a nice change of sheets while you’re in there, too.”

Sweetie Belle thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes,” she croaked. Rarity lifted the corner of the covers, and the rush of cool air made Sweetie Belle shake even harder. She rolled off the mattress and made her way to the bathroom on wobbly knees, pausing a few times to catch her breath. After Rarity had let the water run up to temperature, she had to levitate her sister into the tub.

“There! You just have a good soak, and I’ll see to the laundry.” Rarity walked back to her sister’s room and threw open the window for the short period she might be able to air it out. She stripped the bed and carried the bundle of sheets back downstairs with her, leaving them in a pile by the stack of her freshly cut fabric that also needed washing.

Rarity sat on a stool in the middle of her workroom. She had finally filled an order of six dresses, albeit three weeks late. Thank Celestia they hadn’t been needed by a specific date. She needed to get started on the next set, especially in a moment like this one, when she likely had more than five minutes to dedicate to it.

But there she sat.

Her head in her hooves, Rarity stared at the wall. There was a small, barely discernable mark on the plaster. She might not have even noticed it before, but now it gave her eyes somewhere to focus. Maybe an hour had passed, maybe thirty seconds.

She jolted to her hooves when she heard a sudden fit of congested coughing from upstairs. She rushed to Sweetie Belle’s side and helped her to sit up, thumping her on the back. At long last, Sweetie Belle finally stopped, wheezing and gasping for air. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and she mouthed a silent “I’m sorry.”

“Shush, dear. It’s no trouble,” Rarity declared as she tucked Sweetie Belle back in. “You’re my sister!” She smoothed Sweetie Belle’s mane back. “Now, try to get a little more sleep. I’ll be back up a bit later to read you some more of that novel.” As she walked out, Rarity quietly swung the door around.

On her way down the stairs, Rarity heard the bell on the front door jingle, and looked over to see Pinkie Pie, who had a covered tray balanced on her back.

“Hi, Rarity!” she whispered. “Is Sweetie Belle doing any better?”

Rarity blinked once and shook her head.

Sliding her tray onto a table, Pinkie took off the cover to reveal an array of bite-size cupcakes with a hollow space in the middle of each. “I thought it might be a little easier for her to take her pills if you stuffed ’em in something sweet!”

Her eyes tearing up, Rarity walked over and hugged Pinkie. She didn’t let go for a long time.

Finally, she winced at the sound of another bout of coughing, drew a sharp breath, screwed up her muzzle to hold it in, and headed back for the stairs.

Well after midnight, Twilight Sparkle left the library and trotted off to the edge of town. She’d scouted out most of the good sky-watching spots by now, but she hadn’t tried this particular one. Better yet, she’d estimated it would have a great view to the east, which would be optimal for that night’s action.

She settled on a nice spot of grass next to an old stone-and-timber well and looked up into the blackness. The height of a meteor shower had coincided with a new moon; it was not an event to be missed.

In the small amount of time it had taken her to unpack her sky chart and notebook, she’d already noticed five thin, red streaks cross overhead. She could barely see in the dim starlight—still enough to record her observations.

Leaves rustled and branches swayed in the renewed breeze, drowning out a dry whisper moving through the grass. Several dark streams oozed toward each other, slithering through the grass until they finally merged. The blackness bubbled and roiled upward to form a lurching figure behind Twilight.

A few more trails glowed in the sky, then a bright white fireball flew over, the momentary lull in the wind allowing her to hear a far-away hiss and pop as sparks shot from it.

“My, that was a good one!”

Twilight started and dropped her notebook, her head whipping around at the sound.

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The initial traces of a spark grew from the tip of Twilight’s horn, but she snuffed it at a quick word from her visitor.

“No need for that, Miss Sparkle. You’ll ruin your night vision for some time, as well as mine. We wouldn’t want to miss any of the show.”

“Who’s there?” Squinting, Twilight could see something vaguely like a head turn to face her.

“Oh, just a fellow enthusiast of astronomy. I must say, this is really a spectacular convergence of circumstances, and a prime vantage point.”

After hesitating for a moment, Twilight nodded and gazed back up at the stars. “Yes, it is,” she said, groping about in the grass for her pencil. “Too bad the one last year was obscured by rain clouds. I had a word with a few weather ponies about it, but they insisted on sticking to their schedule.”

“Different priorities for different ponies. It’s unavoidable. But sometimes things work out in our favor, yes?”

“Mmhm. Would you mind checking the temperature for me? Thermometer’s over there,” she said, pointing next to her saddlebag. Though she never heard any hoofsteps, the voice was suddenly beside her.

“Thirteen degrees centigrade.”

“Thank you,” she replied as she peeked out the corner of her eye, but still couldn’t make out a face.

“Wouldn’t you like to see one of those up close? It would be pretty amazing.”

Twilight shrugged. “It’s more the effect they create that’s interesting. They’re just chunks of rock and metal. Besides, it wouldn’t be very practical. You’d have a hard time keeping up with it, and it would only last a short time.” She glanced over toward the sound of laughter.

“Oh? I suppose so. I guess I just try to see things from an artistic perspective at times. But of course, you’re right.”

As she ticked off meteor counts in various columns on her page, Twilight let the minutes tick by in silence. The light wind had become more steady, and she could hear the nightingales calling to each other in the trees.

The voice reappeared, but this time on her other side. “So there’s nothing you want? To be honest, that’s why most ponies come out here. And with the falling stars, too...”

“I’ve never had much use for wishes,” she replied with a wave of her hoof. “Nothing comes of them.” Her pencil scratches coming less frequently now, Twilight made one last mark before flipping her notebook closed. “Well, I should be going. I promised to help Rarity take care of Sweetie Belle tomorrow.” Hearing a chuckle behind her, Twilight stood and faced the sound. She creased her brow as she frowned. “She’s gravely ill. Do you find that amusing?”

“No, no, of course not. I didn’t mean any offense. I just thought it was rather sweet of you to offer.”

“Oh.” Letting her shoulders relax, Twilight resumed stuffing her supplies back into her saddlebag. “Are you headed home as well?”

“No. I’m here for the duration. Say, you’re sure there’s nothing you want? As long as you’re here, you know.”

Twilight shook her head and smiled a bit through her yawn. “I’m not a foal anymore,” she said, reaching for her pack.

“What could it hurt? Go on—try it. It can be therapeutic.”

Forcing a smile, Twilight looked upward and tapped a hoof on the ground. After a moment, she took a breath and cocked her head. “Actually, I wish we had some new books for the library. Several of the better astronomy references are getting worn, and many of the children’s books could stand to be replaced.”

“See? That wasn’t so bad.”

Twilight nodded as her grin softened. “I guess n—” Twigs cracked behind her, and Twilight turned to get a look at her companion. She lit her horn, but it did little to penetrate the gloom. All she could see was a pair of eyes. “What? Who are you?” She was sure she’d spoken, but her mouth wouldn’t move. Nor would her legs. Her own eyes grew wide as that gaze continued to advance.

Twilight took a few hesitant steps toward the library, looking at the leafy boughs overhead. They brought a small smile to her lips, but it didn’t last. She made her way to the front door, which hung loosely on one hinge. Pushing it open the the sound of a metallic whine, she ducked under the ribbon of caution tape and went inside.

Once she was in the middle of the main room, she plopped heavily to the floor. Her gaze traversed the blackened shelves, wispy scraps of charred paper, and overturned chairs. The draft she’d let in swirled around, lifting up little curls of ash in multitudes and spinning them about the debris that littered the ground. Most of the room had dried out, but water still dripped from a few points along the ceiling beams. Twilight reached out to the large central table next to her and prodded a hoof at its leg. The burnt wood buckled, sending the tabletop crashing down amid a gray cloud. Wincing, she jerked her leg back and folded her ears down.

To her other side, a book lay open, face-down in the grime. Twilight levitated it up and flipped it over to reveal just a cover with a few stubby shreds of pages left inside. She could just make out the words “Daring Do” on one. The rest just stuck together in a soggy lump, the ink all running together. After a moment, she let it slide out of her grasp and tumble down.

She stared at all of it, just taking it in, but it looked so distant. Like she was seeing it through her telescope. Her telescope... It wouldn’t have survived. That was a fact. Another fact, to be filed away with the rest.

How? All those books, maps, instruments. Just gone. That word had never carried such real, weighted meaning before. Gone.

She stood back up and stumbled over to the kitchen. Dishes had fallen from the crumbling cabinets and lay in shards across the floor. Stepping gingerly around them, she saw a pair of deformed drinking glasses in the drying rack by the sink, all melted, twisted, reformed in some fanciful shape. She pulled one to the edge of the countertop, watched it teeter there for a moment, gave it a little nudge.

It smashed on the floor. Smashed. Into a thousand particles, maybe even a million. She saw them all, in slow motion, streaking over the sooty floorboards, stars against a night sky. Glittering. But not forever. Stars must fall.

She blinked and stared. Then blinked again.

Twilight walked back out to the main room, a little blood trickling from a nick on her leg. Carefully, she placed one hoof on the bottom step and put a bit of weight on it. A bit of creaking, but no more than usual. She climbed the staircase to her bedroom and stood at the top of the stairs, eyes closed. Finally, she staggered in. The fireponies said it had started in here.

Bits of cloth lay strewn about, some with still-recognizable buttons attached. Her saddle. Her birthday dress. Shoes from... her Gala outfit...

Her mouth finally broke its firm line, its corners quivering. An unexpected gust catching her attention, she looked up at a large hole in the window and pricked her ears toward it, then traced the wooden frame’s debris down to the huge hole burned through the middle of her bed. Right where she would have been sleeping.

Lighting her horn, she pushed away the tatters and splintered boards. Underneath, an object was embedded in the floor. She focused her magic on it, wresting it left and right until it popped free. A meteorite, about half as big as her hoof. Heavily oxidized exterior, mostly nickel and iron, judging by the grain showing from a small break on the corner. Just imagine the places this thing has been...

Twilight heard the front door groan again downstairs as somepony else pushed it open. The last hinge gave out, and the whole thing thudded to the ground, accompanied by a little yelp. Letting the meteorite settle onto the windowsill, Twilight looked down to where Pinkie stood on the threshold.

Pinkie let go of the bag she held in her mouth, and it gave a metallic jangle when it hit the floor. “Twilight!” she called, wearing a massive grin. “The bake sale went great. We made enough bits to buy a new set of books for the library!”

Twilight’s mouth contorted as she struggled to keep her face straight. She hurried down the stairs as the first tears escaped her control. Closing her eyes, she latched her hooves around Pinkie’s neck and stayed there for several long minutes.

Gravel crunched under the wheels of Applejack’s cart as she towed it into town. Each turn of the axles brought a fresh squeak. They sure could use a fresh coat of oil. Especially in this weather.

As mile after mile passed by, the morning chill finally made its way through her coat. She was near the end of her journey, but had actually arrived a bit early. The market wouldn’t open for another hour and a half, and it wouldn’t take her more than thirty minutes to get everything set up. There was plenty of time for a little break.

Humming to herself, she pulled over by the roadside, unhitched the harness, and walked on over to settle down in a patch of grass. She pulled an insulated bottle out of her saddlebag, unscrewed the top, and took a sip of hot spiced cider. Around her, wisps of fog rolled about, muting any view of the moon into a dull glow from all over. A few tendrils of fog escaped her mouth and nose as well, swirling away with each breath.

Applejack brushed her hoof over the frost-tipped blades of grass and stashed her bottle back in its place. As she let the canvas flap fall back over her saddlebag, she cocked her head at it. She flipped it back open and pulled out her bit pouch. It had a more high-pitched jingle lately—not that heavy clink from when it was nice and full.

She got back to her hooves and strode over to the old well she knew was nearby, leaning on the edge and peering at the hints of trees in the mist. “Sure would be nice to have more’n a couple o’ bits to rub together.” She sighed and looked back to where her half-filled wagon lurked by the road. “Early frost is doin’ a number on the trees, though. After this summer, I was hopin’...”

A few of the darker, denser clouds floated toward each other, looping, swarming into one. Each tiny droplet met another, melting and congealing, until a large black shape stood behind Applejack.

“Business not goin’ so well, friend?”

Applejack’s hoof slipped off the well’s rim, but she caught herself before she fell. “Oh. I-I didn’t expect anypony’d be out here. Didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Oh, don’t pay me any mind. ’Tweren’t your fault. I should be apologizin’ for scarin’ you. Didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”

Applejack held a hoof to her chest and gulped, forcing herself to take a few slow, deep breaths. “No, no. I should be goin’, anyway. I know how ponies have their particular spots.”

“Please, sit a spell. This ain’t my spot any more than the next pony’s. It’s meant for sharin’.”

“Do I... know you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she squinted through the haze. “I don’t meet too many folks ’round here without an accent.”

“It’s possible we’ve met. I come across a lot of ponies. I don’t really keep track.”

“I’m just takin’ a load in for market day.” Applejack tipped the front of her hat up a little higher. “What brings you out here?”

“You know. Chores, stuff to fix, and what have you. Better to get ’em done ’fore first light. Just stoppin’ for a breather.”

Nodding, Applejack leaned back against the masonry. “I ’preciate a good work ethic. Well, to answer your question—no, business ain’t been so good lately. This frost lost us a lot o’ apples,” she said while sweeping a hoof around at the clearing’s white-tipped carpet. “It’s okay for now, but whatever hasn’t ripened already ain’t gonna make it.”

“Ooh. ’S a shame. Awful sorry.”

Applejack gave a half-smile and stared off at the hidden horizon. “Nothin’ you coulda done, sugarcube.” She scratched a hoof at the dirt and bent her ears down. “We put so much work in this summer, and there was plenty o’ rain all spring. I was lookin’ forward to bein’ the class o’ all Equestria this year. But we might be lucky to break even.”

“You’re in it for the long haul, though. Keep grindin’ away—that’s what I always say. One bad season ain’t the end o’ the world. You seem more the practical sort. Tell you what—leave a wish behind. That’s what this here place is for, anyhow. Won’t hurt a bit.”

Rolling her eyes downward, Applejack sighed and held her thoughts for a moment. “Why not? It always seems like we’re so close. I wish this year we’d done it. I wish we were the top apple producer in all Equestria.”

“There. Feel better?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. Say, ain’t I s’posed to throw in a penny or somethin’?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just a bit o’ foolin’, anyway. And you of all ponies know better than to waste a penny.”

“Heh. You sure I don’t know you?” Not waiting for an answer, Applejack trotted back over to her cart and took an apple from the top of the pile. She turned back toward the voice and tossed the apple toward it. “Here. Have one on the hou—”

The fruit landed with a soft thud and rolled a short distance. Applejack stood transfixed as the shadow moved out of the fog toward her, gliding over the grass.

It’s just another pony. No reason to be afraid. So why did she have the urge to whip around and kick as hard as she could? In fact, she could have sworn she already did. But there she sat, stock-still, as it kept getting nearer. It was close enough to touch now. But all she could see was a pair of eyes. Eyes that she desperately tried to avoid, but she couldn’t help herself.

Applejack trotted on one last circuit through the apple orchards. A lot of the trees already had discolored leaves. For the ones that looked salvageable, at least the younger ones, she’d thrown coverings over them, but there was just no way to get them all. There were hundreds of trees. The oldest could probably make do, but she just had to accept that there were going to be losses. At least Rainbow Dash had agreed to bring in some clouds overnight to keep in any warmth they could. Every degree would help.

Apple Bloom would be off weatherproofing the barn, and Big Macintosh was no doubt gathering firewood at the edge of the forest. How many of these apple trees would be firewood next year?

A cold front was coming through. Applejack could see the line of clouds approaching from the southwest, and they’d already covered the sun. She was out of burlap, anyway. Whatever was going to happen couldn’t be changed now.

She galloped to the nearest hilltop and surveyed the acres of trees. All the crop that could be harvested had been, the hardier trees would be okay, and the majority of the saplings had been protected. She breathed a sigh. It was going to be fine. It’d be a shame to see anything go to waste, but there wouldn’t be enough losses to threaten the farm. It was going to be fine.

After hearing that reassurance one more time in her mind, she forced a smile and galloped to the house. Apple Bloom probably wasn’t finished with the barn yet, so she figured she’d better get started on the house. A few gaps in the boards to caulk, inspect the roof, and such. She was rummaging around for some of the pitch to make up a nice batch of oakum when she heard the bell tinkle at the front door.

Applejack walked over to the entryway in time to see Derpy flitting off against the increasing wind. She poked her head out the door and flipped open the mailbox’s black lid. Just one letter. A scroll? With the royal seal?

She rushed back inside with it, carefully cracking the wax insignia and unrolling the page on the kitchen table. Her jaw dropped just a few sentences in.

As quickly as she could, she ran to the back door. “Apple Bloom!” she yelled toward the barn. Seconds later, her sister’s head popped out from the hayloft, and luckily enough, Big Mac also came around from behind the barn to see what the ruckus was. She waved them over, her mouth still hanging open and her eyes wide.

“What is it, sis?” Big Mac asked once they’d gathered in the kitchen.

The paper rattled as Applejack flailed it about. She jabbed her other hoof toward it and flopped into a chair. “There’s been an apple blight. All over Equestria.” Her mouth kept working, but nothing came out for a few long moments. “Appleloosa got it... the worst. Ha-half the trees are dead.”

Abruptly sinking to his haunches, Big Mac glanced at Apple Bloom, who just kept looking back and forth between her siblings. Big Mac lifted a hoof to his head and rubbed it through his forelock, over and over again, while staring at the floor.

“Braeburn... Bloomberg... I don’t know what’ll happen to ’em.” Applejack’s lower lip jutted forward as she rubbed her nose. “We’re the only farm that had anything near a full crop this year. We’ve been ordered to ship everything we’ve got off to Canterlot, startin’ tomorrow. They’re buyin’ it all, lock, stock, and barrel, to ration out.”

Big Mac stood and nodded sharply. “That’s all there is to it, then. C’mon.” Without another word, he was out the door. Always duty first with that one.

She was close behind when she noticed Pinkie Pie coming up the front walk, so she trotted around to meet her. “I’d love to talk, Pinkie, but an emergency’s come up.” Applejack stared at the horizon and pressed her hat down a little further over her mane. “I-I’ve gotta get to work, and it looks like it’ll be in the rain to boot,” she said, rolling her eyes up at the clouds. She fidgeted a hoof against the dirt path.

“I heard already, Applejack,” Pinkie said, breaking into a wide grin. “I’m here to help!”

“How...?”

“Hehe! Princess Celestia sent Twilight a letter too, so she could organize everything. Everypony’s on their way over to pitch in.” Pinkie closed her eyes and bounced a bit in place, but she was soon anchored to the ground by Applejack’s strong grip. She reached a foreleg around Pinkie’s neck and hugged her tightly.

Twilight was the last one through the library’s door. She pulled it closed against the rising wind that flung fat raindrops against the windowpanes.

“I don’t think I want to see another apple for weeks,” Rarity said as she rubbed a towel over her coat.

“Aw, you say that now, sugarcube,” Applejack remarked through a forced smile, “but I bet you’ll gobble up an apple tart the next time you see one.”

Dabbing the towel behind her ears, Rarity turned her nose up. “A lady does not gobble.”

“Just the same. Thank y’all so much for your help.” Applejack grinned at her friends as she shook the water off her hat and placed it back on its perch. “Can’t believe we got all those apples boxed up in just the one evenin’.” She reached for the small toolbox on the table beside her and carried it over to the last remaining bare wall.

“Applejack!” cried Twilight. “It’s late! You should be going to bed.”

Applejack closed her eyes and shook her head. “I can’t sleep anyway. Feels good to get some more work done. You mind, Rarity?”

“Not at all, dear.” Rarity levitated a long piece of oak planking against the wall while Applejack slid out a few of the nails she held between her lips and hammered the board in place.

“I’ll just get us some hot drinks.” Twilight walked toward the kitchen, her own towel still draped over her head. “How’s Sweetie Belle, by the way?”

A strained smile stayed in place as Rarity’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, we do fine. The doctor still can’t figure out... what’s wrong. Oh, I simply must thank Spike for sitting up with her tonight,” she added. “I just wish...” Her eyes went wide, and the next board she had at the ready suddenly clattered to the floor. “I wish...”

Twilight had stopped in her tracks. “What’s wrong, Rarity?”

“I don’t know,” Rarity replied, her words coming out in a rush as she stared out the window. “The night Sweetie Belle took ill, I had wandered out to that old wishing well.”

“Oh, I know that place!” interjected Pinkie. “The wishing well, the wishing well, for all your hopes and dreams to tell! In darkest night, with no moonlight, you wish it wi—”

“That’s just it!” Rarity shouted. “It was dark! So dark that I couldn’t see. I-I wished... I wished... And then I was home.” She held both hooves up to her mouth and looked to Twilight.

“I was there, too.” Squinting her eyes, Twilight came back away from the kitchen. “During the meteor shower. I... wished...”

“Two days ago,” Applejack chimed in, “early in the mornin’. I stopped there on my way to the market. I wished... I don’t know. Next thing I know, I was in town, settin’ up my wagon.” She exchanged long glances with Rarity and Twilight.

After a lengthy silence, Twilight finally spoke. “What... happened to us?” Rarity just shook her head, but Twilight ran over to her in an instant. “Think! What happened at the well!”

Her breath catching in her throat, Rarity stared back and stammered a few unintelligible words.

Twilight whipped her gaze over to Applejack. “You stopped on the way into town! Then what?”

“I... I don’t...” Applejack pounded a hoof against the wall and gritted her teeth. “I don’t like this one bit! Ain’t there somethin’ you can do?”

Twilight held a hoof to her chin and nodded after a moment. “I could try a lucid dream.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “A what now?”

”I might be able to recover the memory.” Taking a deep breath, Twilight squeezed her eyes shut and charged up her horn. After several agonizing minutes, her breathing became faint and slow, her chin dipped to her chest, and her eyes slid partway open, revealing a milky whiteness. “I was... watching the meteor shower,” she began in a dull monotone. “I took some measurements.”

“What’s she doing?” Pinkie whispered. “it’s kinda... creepy.”

“It looks like she’s forcin’ some kind o’ sleep.” Applejack walked over to brace Twilight, who had begun wobbling.

“Just meteors. Streaks in the sky,” Twilight mumbled. “All alone. Nopony was there. I must not... Nopony was there.” Her breathing quickened. “Nopony. I must not remember. I wish...”

“All alone. I wish...” echoed Rarity as she rocked back and forth in her chair.

“I wish,” Twilight continued, “that... I told it wishes were pointless. I saw... eyes. I can’t move. Eyes. Coming toward me.” She gasped for breath and began shaking. “Eyes! I... have to forget! The eyes! Stay back! Stay back!”

Rarity had curled up in her chair and was still rocking. Applejack just stared at the wall, mouthing along with Twilight. Finally, Pinkie jumped over beside Twilight. “Stop it!” Pinkie shook her as hard as she could. “Stop it!”

Twilight blinked and stumbled against the wall, her eyes shut once more. “I wished... that there were new books for the library.”

“...That I could spend more time with Sweetie Belle.”

“...That Sweet Apple Acres was the top farm in all Equestria.”

“...And it told me,” Twilight rasped, her tear-filled eyes back to normal as they gazed up at Pinkie, “I must not remember any of it.”

Twilight held a hoof to her forehead until her frantic breathing had subsided. “We have to go back.”

“Now?” Rarity asked, backing away.

“Yes,” replied Twilight through clenched teeth. “You heard Pinkie. ‘In darkest night, with no moonlight.’ The storm. It’s our best chance for a while. Unfortunately, all of the pegasi are busy with the weather. But we four can handle it. It’s time to end this.”

Pinkie Pie wore her umbrella hat as she sloshed through the slick grass and walked up to an old stone well. “I wish, I wish, I wish!” she chanted into the wind.

“C’mon, Pinkie,” hissed Twilight from her vantage point across the road, “don’t overplay it.”

Pinkie continued bouncing through the clearing, each landing sending up a fresh spray of water. “The wishing well, the wishing well, for all your hopes and dreams to tell! Hehe!”

A few of the isolated pools moved toward each other and strained upward toward the sky. Bubbling columns of moisture twisted and braided together, warping into a rippling mass. The sheets of rain bent toward it, sucked into the black shape that shambled over to the well. “My, you’re an eager one. What a silly filly!”

Her eyes dancing, Pinkie whirled around. “I know! It’s kind of a thing for little colts and fillies, but I love wishes. I have so many things to wish for!”

“Okie dokie lokie! But you know wishing wells only give you one, so make it extra special. Hehe!”

“I can’t do that!” Pinkie said, a toothy grin stretched across her face. “Who could ever decide?”

“It’s just a game.”

“Oh! I love games. But a game has rules.” Pinkie declared with a brusque nod. “Why don’t you tell your Auntie Pinkie Pie?”

It sighed. “I’m a year older than—”

Pinkie landed with one final splash. Her face fell.

“Don’t look at it!” Twilight screamed as she charged forward, her horn blazing. “Keep your eyes down!”

Pinkie snapped her gaze to the waterlogged grass, her knees trembling. “Flu-Fluttershy?” she whimpered.

Rarity gasped and Applejack held a hoof up to her mouth. Only Twilight kept up her stern gaze. She flooded the clearing with her light spell, and the murky shadows melted away, dripping down like mud, to leave Fluttershy standing there shielding her eyes from the light.

“Remember, everypony, don’t look. That’s why we couldn’t think about what happened. She used The Stare and ordered us to forget.” Twilight lowered her head to hide Fluttershy’s face in the gleam of her horn.

“So, how did you remember, my dear, sweet friend?” Fluttershy hissed, her words dripping venom.

“In a dream,” Twilight replied. “I saw your eyes again. There’s no mistaking them. Once I had that detail, it brought back everypony’s memories.”

Fluttershy snorted. “Clever. I suppose I’m not going to have any more luck in this town, hm?” She turned around and stalked off toward the treeline. “I’ll just find another obscure little corner of Equestria to settle in. There’s never any shortage of wishes.”

“Fluttershy... Wait!” Pinkie pleaded. Her mane hung down straight, trailing over the wet ground. “Why?”

“You ponies!” spat Fluttershy. “You and your wishes. What good have they ever done? Wallowing in your own self-interest like a bunch of swine.” She flicked her mane and continued on toward the forest.

“You of all ponies! How can you say that!” Applejack yelled, pointing a trembling hoof and risking a glance at Fluttershy’s face.

Fluttershy strutted back toward the group, her jaw set. She pointed at Rarity. “You wanted time with your sister. All to yourself. And you—” her hoof moved over at Twilight “—precious books for your library,” she sneered. Finally, she stuck her nose right up to Applejack’s. “You’re worst of all. Money, money, money.” With each word, her frown grew deeper. “Even this one,” she added, jabbing a hoof at her chest, “just wanted something for herself. It’s pitiful!”

“You mean... you’re not Fluttershy?” Twilight asked. She dimmed her light enough to see the glare shooting back at her.

“Oh, I am. And more.”

As Fluttershy squinted back, Twilight became aware of a loudening growl beside her.

“How dare you! How dare you!” shouted Rarity. “I wanted to spend time with my sister for her sake! I know she looks up to me, and she deserves that attention. My wish was that I could be what she needs!”

“And lots of ponies use those books!” added Twilight. “If I were being selfish, I would have only asked for books I use, or a new telescope.”

Fluttershy narrowed her eyes to slits and stared back for a moment before jerking her gaze once more to Applejack. “How about it? What’s your excuse?”

“I just wanted... to fix Granny’s hip.” Applejack sniffled as she hung her head. “And be able to send Apple Bloom to college. They deserve it.”

Fluttershy huffed and spread her wings. “It’s easy to fool yourself afterward. Justify it however you like.” She crouched to take flight, but Pinkie reached a hoof up to her shoulder.

“What did she wish?” she asked quietly, her ears flat.

“What does it matter? She was just another greedy pony.”

“She’s the sweetest one of us,” said Pinkie. “I think she’ll surprise you. Give her another wish.” Her teary eyes shone as she looked up.

“It doesn’t work that way,” Fluttershy snapped. “She already had hers.”

“Then give me mine. I wish...”

Fluttershy launched herself skyward.

“I wish you could see the truth. That we care. That we want the best for each other,” She called into the air.

Fluttershy stopped, just above the treetops and looked back.

“That you could have what you want. That you could be happy.”

Her wings holding her in a hover, Fluttershy scanned the smiling faces below.

Fluttershy went about her early morning routine, checking over her garden and putting out feed for her animals before they awakened. A few of the more industrious birds were already warming up their voices in the branches overhead, but most of the world still lay asleep.

This time was always special to her. The bats, owls, and other night life had already returned, and there wasn’t enough sunlight to wake the rest yet. So quiet. So peaceful.

Taking a moment to rub her sore muscles, Fluttershy made her way down the front path. She’d spent the previous day helping Applejack set up for the Sisterhooves Social, and she knew Sweetie Belle in particular had been looking forward to it.

She sat in the grass by the edge of the duck pond and closed her eyes. “It makes me feel so good to be kind to others,” she murmured just above the sound of the stream. “I wish I could feel that way all the time. I wish I could be even kinder to everypony else and make their wishes come true.”

Raising her chin, Fluttershy opened her eyes slowly, but the bright morning star she expected to see wasn’t there. Odd. She could have sworn she’d noticed it lots of times before. She might have to ask Twilight about it later. The other one, too—the one she hadn’t observed until last night, that was the first one out. She could wish on th—

No. Wishes were silly things. Silly things for foals. She could make it happen herself.

She walked back to her cottage, where she could hear the first of her critters stirring.

Read But Unsaid

Rainbow Dash blasted into the library through its perpetually-open window. She landed with her wings fully extended; the hardwood floor resonated with a clack from three of her hooves. “Y’know,” she screamed, “you’re the stupidest feathering egghead I’ve ever met.”

Twilight Sparkle turned around from her bookshelves and gaped. She tripped over her own hooves and fell back onto her haunches. “Rainbow? What—”

“I’ll tell you ‘what’, Little Miss Perfect!” Rainbow’s right forehoof was pinning a hardcover book up against her chest. As she lifted her hoof away, the book clattered to the floor. She pointed a shaky hoof at the text. “That’s ‘what’! I can’t believe you stole my book and read it! You snake!” She ground her teeth and bucked at the air with her rear hooves.

“That’s not true!” She held up her forehooves defensively. “I didn’t steal it; I just found it! At the time, I didn’t even know...” She chanced a quick look at the familiar book laying on the floor. Something clicked inside her mind. “Wait, you returned some of my Daring Do books yesterday!” She pointed to Rainbow Dash and quickly nodded her head. “Remember? You returned Book Fifteen and a few of the Extended Universe ones. Your own book must’ve gotten mixed in when—”

“Oh, so it’s my fault?” Dash’s face darkened. “It’s my fault that you poked your nose in a book that you knew wasn’t yours?” She flapped her wings, hovering just a few hoof-lengths above the ground, and slowly encroached on Twilight, forcing the latter to retract her pointed hoof. “It’s my fault that you just had to meddle in my business?” It wasn’t until she was nearly nose-to-nose with Twilight that hot tears began leaking from her murderous glare. Her next words were a quivering whisper: “It’s my fault you told her?”

Twilight’s chest locked up, too terrified to breath the little air that floated between herself and her livid friend. “No, I...” She bit her lip and rested her forehooves against her own chest as she looked straight into the rose-hued eyes in front of her. “Rainbow, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t—”

Rainbow gnashed her teeth and jammed her eyelids shut. “You idiot!” she yelled, interrupting the apology. “Now everything’s gonna be weird forever and it’s all your fault.” She screeched directly into Twilight’s face, “I hate you! I hate you so much! I never want to see you again! I wish... I wish you’d get banished to the moon forever!” She swooped down to retrieve her book and bolted out the window before Twilight Sparkle had a chance to reply.

She sat alone in her library, trembling slightly. “I’m sorry, Rainbow.” She looked down at her own hooves before her vision blurred over. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have shown off your book without your permission.”

Twilight Sparkle opened the book. “Huh. Now where did you come from, friend?”

She gently floated it onto the reading stand and flipped through some of its pages. Unquestionably, it was a copy of Daring Do and the Cove of Candles. She’d read that one no fewer than eight time. The flashes of scenes and dialogue that she spotted in her skim-through were exactly as she remembered them: the treasure map of Three-Legged Blackmane, the deadly traps guarding the pirate captain’s immeasurable riches, Ahuizotl’s surprise reappearance two-thirds of the way through the book, and Daring Do’s episodic sidekick, Short Stuff. Ugh, Short Stuff. Twilight had written entire essays about how that little filly had singlehoofedly made this book the worst of the original series, between her scrappiness, her fangirlish love of Daring Do, her abhorrently broken Equestrian dialogue, and so on and so forth.

No, this was definitely Cove of Candles. That wasn’t the part which confused her. What confused her was whose copy this was. She twisted her neck around and spun lightly on her back hooves, searching for one particular bookshelf in the library’s main chamber. Sure enough, there were exactly sixteen books on her Daring Do shelf, exactly as there should be, ever since yesterday when Rainbow Dash had returned the copy of Spear of the Windigos that she had borrowed. The shelf held her own personal copy of Cove of Candles, a distinct entity from the mysterious volume currently resting on the stand next of her.

She turned back to examine the mystery text, equipped with a squint and a frown. What confused her further was the nature of the book’s owner. The pages of the book—at least in the beginning—were worn and earmarked, which meant two things. First, which Twilight found admirable, this book had clearly been read cover-to-cover a vast number of times, probably more than she had read her own copy. She was always pleased to discover anypony with a literary passion as large as hers, especially in a sleepy little town like Ponyville. Second—which still caused Twilight to cringe simply by reflecting on it—was that this mystery pony could learn a thing or three about proper book care. She sometimes wished that earth ponies and pegasi could benefit from the basic magical abilities that unicorns possessed, simply for the sake of literary conservation efforts.

Twilight Sparkle rubbed a hoof over her eyes and forced herself to yawn, hoping it would help her wake up. Once more, she caught herself focusing on the minute details rather than the primary mystery at hoof: specifically, the last thirty or so pages had been ripped out. Just like that, the story stopped right around the climax; all that remained of the original conclusion were the jagged, torn edges near the binding. She knew for a fact that, upon discovering this crime against Equestria earlier in the morning, her screams had woken up the neighbors, because said neighbors had come over to the library and demanded an apology. The felonist had at least attempted to make amends for this violation of the Geneighva Convention by inserting a few pages into the vacancy.

She huffed. It was not a proper replacement; the paper was yellow legal pad, matching the original pages in neither size nor hue. “Actually,” she murmured to herself, “I think I lost a legal pad like that.” The writing was sloppy mouth-and-quill, a far cry from the crisp printed book pages. And the content... While nopony was exactly certain who the author of the Daring Do series was, it most certainly wasn’t whomever retched onto these replacement pages.

Still, if anything would be said about Twilight Sparkle, it was that she would not allow a mystery to occur without a proper investigation—certainly not when it occurred within her own library! The pages magically flipped themselves to the last authentic page of the book. After scanning the last few paragraphs to get her bearings, and while gnawing on her bottom lip, she proceeded into the revised ending. Her brow furrowed and her ear flicked at odd intervals as she struggled to traverse the writing style that she could only describe as “needs improvement; see me after class”. However, with each sentence conquered, her pupils dilated further and a hoof slowly traveled up to the mouth. Upon reaching the end, she couldn’t help but to stare vacantly at the wall in front of her.

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight Sparkle yelled up into the rainy sky, trying to pierce her voice through the low rumble of thunder. “I’m sorry! Please, can’t we talk about this?” Her soaked mane clung flatly to the side of her shoulder, and her coat felt about three kilograms heavier with all of the water it was holding. Someday later, she mused, once this whole sordid affair was past them, Rainbow and she might be able to laugh at how melodramatic it was for her to surround her cloud house with storm clouds. But not now; now, Twilight knew that Dash was entitled to her grief. All the same, she wasn’t ready to tuck tail and run just yet. “Rainbow Dash!” She stomped a hoof and immediately shivered as muddy water splashed her underside.

“Go take a long walk off a tiny cloud!”

“Rainbow, please!”

Rainbow poked her head out over the edge of her house, her rainbow-striped mane swinging freely in the breeze. “Hey! Didn’t I tell you that I never want to see you again?”

Twilight bit her tongue, realizing now was not the time to point out that if that were the case, Rainbow shouldn’t have so hypocritically leaned over the edge to look down at her. “Please, Rainbow! I’m sorry!”

She sneered. “Good for you!”

“Let me help you!” Twilight shielded her eyes as she looked upward; she could no longer tell if they were wet from the rain or otherwise. “I want to fix this.”

“There’s nothing to fix!”

“Don’t say that!” Twilight made an exaggerated effort of shaking her head so that Dash could see it from her distance. “She didn’t understand what I told her. It’s not too late! We can sit her down and start over from—”

Dash groaned. With a flip, she glided down from her house and splashed down next to Twilight. “You. Are. So. Stupid!” She punctuated each word with another splash of mud, speckling the blue coat of her legs with brown polka dots. “Haven’t you used your giant, nerdy brain to figure it out yet?” Dash glowered at Twilight. “There’s nothing to fix. I didn’t want her to see it. Ever.”

“What? But...” Twilight’s jaw flapped open and shut. “But why, Rainbow? It’s such a beautiful—”

Rainbow snorted. “It’s a story, Twi. It’s not real. Daring Do is just pretend.” Her body wilted downward, her damp forelock hiding her face from view. “My ending is just pretend.”

“Hey.” Twilight Sparkle stepped softly up to her friend, stopping just out of hoof’s reach. “There’s nothing pretend about dreams, Rainbow. You of all ponies should know that dreams are made real through perseverance.” She waited for Rainbow Dash to reply; when none came, a light smile crossed her lips. “Would you listen to anypony who told you that your dream of becoming a Wonderbolt is ‘pretend’?”

“That!” Rainbow’s head snapped upright and she reeled back a few steps. Her eyes crossed, staring down at her own muzzle. “That’s... different. That’s actually possible.”

“Is it any different?”

Dash hung her head once more. Her soaked tail curled up lightly between her legs. “Twi, I can’t,” she murmured. “I’m... It’s too...”

Twilight Sparkle pulled up to her friend and wrapped her hooves around her. The two shared a soggy embrace beneath the rainfall. “I know, Rainbow. It’s okay. Let me help you.”

Rainbow Dash reached up with her own hooves and squeezed her tightly.

“Um, Twilight? I still don’t get what’s going on here.”

Twilight smiled down at Scootaloo in as nonchalant a manner as she could. “Sorry, Scootaloo. I know that this isn’t making much sense, but I can’t be the one who explains it.”

Scootaloo buzzed along the dirt path on her eponymous scooter, arching an eyebrow at Twilight as the unicorn trotted to keep up. “But why? If you know the answers, then just tell me already.” She made a melodramatic show of pretending to gag on her own hoof. “Don’t tell me. This is one of those ‘lessons I should discover on my own’ that grown-ups love to use all the time.”

“No,” said Twilight, unable to stop herself from giggling. “Not this time, anyway. Actually, that’s why we’re heading out to see Rainbow. It’d be best if she was the one who explained this to you.”

Scootaloo’s ears perked at the mention of her idol. “Cool!” she cheered with face aglow. “What are we waiting for, then?” Her wings revved up with newfound energy and propelled the scooter at double the speed, forcing Twilight to gallop after her.

The pair reached Rainbow Dash’s only to find it in a state of total disarray. From beneath the cloud house, they could hear a series of crashes and muffled curses. A number of Rainbow’s possessions were scattered about the lawn with careless disregard. As Twilight Sparkle was reflecting on this, she looked back upward just in time to dodge an empty pizza box that had been hurled out of the house.

“Rainbow, what are you doing?” Twilight yelled up at the house, stepping forward on instinct. “I hope you’re planning on cleaning up this huge mess. Littering is—”

She was cut off by a throaty groan. “Not now, Twilight!” Rainbow’s voice was muffled from being buried inside the clouds, but Twilight could tell from the tone that she was shouting at the top of her lungs. “I’m kinda busy!”

“But, Rainbow Dash,” shouted Scootaloo, loud enough to be heard but with enough inflection to inject the traditional Cutie Mark Crusader whining into her voice, “Twilight said that you’d be able to help me with this Daring Do book.”

“Sorry, squirt, but I said not now! I’ve—wait.” Twilight and Scootaloo nearly jumped out of their skin as a streak of rainbows crashed down onto the ground beside them. Dash’s eyes jolted from mare to filly and back. Upon spotting Scootaloo’s saddlebags, she hissed in a mouthful of air. The muscles in her legs visibly tensed and flexed underneath her coat. Her wings were locked tight against her frame. “Where—” Her voice cracked, and she coughed into her shoulder, before whispering once more, “Where did you find that?”

“Huh? This Daring Do book?” Scootaloo pointed her hoof to the side. “Twilight gave it to me. She found it in her library, and she showed it to me, and we both agreed that you’d like to see it too!”

Rainbow Dash stared straight at Twilight Sparkle. “She did, did she?”

She tried to match Rainbow’s gaze, but something was off-putting. Rainbow’s eyes were glassy and hollow, like there wasn’t anypony home. Twilight shuffled her hooves against the dusty trail, feeling her stomach inexplicably knot up. Nevertheless, she resolved to move forward. “I... This version has a really interesting alternate ending. Since you and Scootaloo were such big Daring Do fans, I figured that the two of you might want to...” She looked aside and spun her hoof in front of her as her mind tried to catch up. “Y’know, discuss. Like a book club!” She offered her friendliest smile to Dash.

Dash’s expression did not change, and her gaze did not leave Twilight, as Scootaloo continued the conversation. “Yeah! I mean, I’ve only seen the movie version, and yeah, yeah, I know that you and Twilight keep telling me that the books are so much better. But this book ends totally different than the movie.” She sat on her haunches, lifted both her hooves, and twisted her face into a grimace. “I mean, what gives? At the end of the movie, Daring Do never—”

“Hey, squirt.” Rainbow still stared at Twilight despite addressing the younger filly. “Can I see that book for a second?”

“Of course!” Scootaloo craned her head back, bit down on the novella, and lifted it out of her saddlebags. She set the book at Rainbow Dash’s hooves, saying, “I mean, that’s why we’re here, right?”

Rainbow immediately flipped to the yellow, mouth-written pages at the end. She stared at them for a mere instant before slamming the cover shut and biting down on the book. “Yeah, don’t worry about it, squirt. I know... I mean, I’ve heard about this book before. Somepony wrote it as a prank.” She stared down at the book held between her teeth, and her shoulders sagged slightly. “An unfunny, uncool prank.” With a snap of her tail and several crispy high-steps, she rotated herself about until she faced away from the pair. Her shoulders snapped back into a firm posture, and her wings unfurled in preparation for flight. “Anyway, like I said, I’m busy now. We can hang out tomorrow, okay?”

Scootaloo’s jaw dropped and her eyes grew to the size of small moons. “I—That—You—” she sputtered. “Hang out? Like, together? You mean it?”

“I mean it. And Twilight?”

Her face was locked in a pert little frown as she tried to study the interactions of the two ponies in front of her, but Rainbow Dash’s address caused her to shake her head and refocus her attention. “Yes?”

Rainbow’s face was turned away from them, but her tone was flat and calm. “I’m gonna drop by the library in a few minutes, so be there.”

“Huh? Okay, that—” She blinked as Dash immediately lifted off and returned to her cloud house. She looked down at Scootaloo, who shrugged back. “That’s fine, I guess.”

Tied to Daring Do’s back and muttering in Chineighse, Short Stuff struggled and twisted against her mold-covered restraints. “Dr. Do? We in big trouble!”

Daring Do was not having any more luck than her plucky companion. The ropes were bound tight against her body, pinning her wings and forelegs painfully to her side. The crane above them creaked and groaned, slowly lowering the pair toward the pit and its murky brown water. Spiny scales broke the water’s surface at odd intervals as the crocodiles eagerly awaited the tasty morsels being offered to them.

Daring’s pink eyes flashed, a scowl locked on her face. “Curse you, Ahuizotl! You’ll never get away with this.”

From his control panel on the far ledge, Ahuizotl let out a kooky, howling laugh. “Oh, but I already have, Miss Do! In a matter of moments, I shall be rid of you, and your endearing and infuriating penchant for ruining my every plan, once and for all.” He reared up and clasped his long fingers at the sky. “And then, Blackmane’s treasure shall be mine! Mine!” His mad laughter echoed mercilessly against the dank, stone walls of the temple.

Gritting her teeth, Daring twisted around and muttered into Short Stuff’s ear. “Hey, Shorty, I’ve got a plan. Think you can reach my whip?”

“I think so, Dr. Do! Me try.” Short Stuff twisted her hoof, reaching toward—

“NOT TODAY, MONKEYFUZZER!!!” Suddenly without any warning Daring Do totally snapped the ropes and was free. She flew super fast over to Ahuizotl and she bucked him in the face so hard that he bleed alot and cried.

“Owwww!” He cried. “Daring Do, I am sorry please forgive me? I will be good from now on.” Tears rolled down his face because he really hurt from where Daring Do kicked him in the face.

“No,” ordered Daring. “Your a really bad monkey dog thing and you have to go to jail now.” And then Ahuizotl goes too jail for ever.

“Hooray for Daring Do!” exploded Short Stuff. She was also save because Daring broke the ropes and she’s a pegasus and so she could fly because Daring taut her, even if she wasn’t as good a flyer as Daring Do. “I knew that you would be able to save us!”

“Hahaha!” Retorted the mustard pegasus. “Another day: Another dunjon!” She poised and looked super cool. “Anyway Squirt it is time for us to go home, also where is your home?” But then Short Stuff looked down and cried because she was sad. “I’m sorry, Daring Do,” she stated. “I dont actually have a home or a mommy or daddy. Their gone and nopony knows where they are.”

“WHAT?!?!” explained Daring. “That is to sad.” She cried. “Wait I have an awesome idea, I will be your new mom!”

“Oh my Celestia, that would be so cool because you are my hero, ~~Rain~~ Daring.” Short stuff was really happy but then sad. “But no you can’t. You have a lot of adventures planned, like you someday want to go to the Wonder Temple and find the Bolt Gem.” She looked down and muttered, “I will get in your way.”

The mustard pegasus nodded. “Yes it will be really hard. I know because my friends Mr Pastry and Mrs Pastry have twin foals and they are alot of work. but I will try really hard to be both a mom ~~and a Wonder~~ and go to the Wonder Temple. But if I can’t do both, then I will just be your mom okay?”

“You can’t!” screamed Squirt. “That’s been your dream forever!”

“No it is okay,” replied Daring. She looked at Short Stuff really really serious. “You are sad and I hate that. My radical adventures will make me happy, but being your mom will make me happy and you happy too so its better. I will be their for you and you can always count on me, no matter what, okay ~~Scoota~~ Short Stuff?”

“Okay I believe in you, you will be the best mommy ever!”

And then Daring Do was her mom and Short Stuff was her dauter and they cried and hugged alot, but it’s okay because they never cried ever again and they were happy forever.

Rainbow Dash sat in the middle of the library. She stared down at her hooves, where rested a familiar book and an unfamiliar scroll. The scroll was covered in words: long words, dry words, meaningless words. At the bottom of the scroll were lines for several signatures, two of which had already been signed upon. One signature, according to the job title underneath it, belonged to some bureaucrat or another. The second signature was immediately recognizable.

Twilight Sparkle tittered and shuffled from hoof to hoof, looking to the side of the room. “She had to pull a few connections to get the paperwork cleared so fast, but when I told Princess Celestia about your plan, she was more than happy to help.” She looked back at Dash and beamed. “She wished you the best of luck. Both of you.”

Dash shifted her hooves from underneath her haunches, and restlessly opened and folded her wings. Even though she hadn’t eaten anything for breakfast today, she felt like she had swallowed a brick. She looked up at the far wall and its perpetually-open window. “I’ll just screw things up.”

“Probably.” Twilight rested her hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder. “Everypony makes mistakes.” She leaned her head down until they were eye-to-eye. “But not everypony will fight tirelessly to correct those mistakes. And that’s what’s most important.”

“Twilight?” The front door of the library swung open. “You wanted me to stop by now?” Scootaloo’s face turned electric as she looked inside. “Rainbow Dash! Hey!”

“Good morning, Scootaloo. You’re right on schedule.” Twilight smiled and tilted her head lightly to the side. “Are you thirsty? Can I fix you up some lemonade?”

“Sure!” Scootaloo’s tiny wings flittered rapidly. “Sounds tasty!”

“No problem. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.” Twilight squeezed Rainbow’s shoulders once more, then dropped her hoof and walked to her kitchen. “You and Rainbow can get settled in the meantime.” She gently shut the kitchen door behind her.

Scootaloo grinned up at Dash. “Sooo. Is today the day that we’re hanging out?” She gasped and trotted up, with only the book and parchment between her and her hero. “Are we hanging out right now?!”

Rainbow Dash’s eyes lingered on the window. She tried to swallow but her tongue felt like it was filling her entire mouth. She closed her eyes and let out a shaky exhale before turning to Scootaloo and smiling. “Hey, squirt—I mean, Scootaloo. Yeah, we can hang out today.” She squirmed her legs and stared down at the items between her and Scootaloo. “Actually, though, I kinda wanted to ask you something first.”

Pinkie Pie and the Case of the Insistent Salesserpent

At first glance, Ponyville looked like any other hamlet on the edge of the Everfree Forest. The train station was a busy stop on the track from Canterlot out to the Appleoosan frontier. It had a bowling alley, a dress boutique, and three florist shops.

But Ponyville was different from other towns. Nopony, foal or stallion, got away with being unfriendly to anypony else. Constables all over Equestria wondered, how did they do it?

Mayor Mare would love to tell all Equestria her secret, but who would believe her? The constabulary was in a broom closet in City Hall on the town square, but the true cause of all the peace and harmony in Ponyville was a bakery shop at Sugarcube Corner.

There lived Mr. and Mrs. Cake, their two children, and a tenant named Pinkamena Diane Pie. Pinkamena was an aspiring baker, apprenticing under the Cakes to earn her room and board. Only her parents and sisters back on the rock farm where she was raised called Pinkamena by her given name. Everypony else in Equestria called her Pinkie.

Pinkie’s friend Twilight Sparkle had read more books than anypony, and never forgot what she read. But Pinkie knew more facts than Twilight Sparkle ever could, because she could make them up as she went along.

When she wasn’t working in the bakery, Pinkie Pie set up a detective shop in the garage she built behind Sugarcube Corner. A garage is a building used to store automobiles when they aren’t being used. Nopony knows what an automobile is. Just outside the garage Pinkie Pie had hung up a sign:

PIE DETECTIVE AGENCY
3.1415 Sugarcube Corner
Pinkamena Diane Pie, President
No Case Too Small
Two Bits Per Day, Plus Expenses

Pinkie Pie sat behind a folding table in the garage sharing a cupcake with her helper, Fluttershy. Fluttershy was the prettiest pony in Ponyville, and she had done something that nopony else in town had managed to do: She had gut-stomped famed athlete Rainbow Dash right into the ground! At the time Fluttershy was attempting to run away from a dragon migration, but it was still kinda impressive.

Pinkie was about to bite into her half of the cupcake when she felt her nose twitch, her left back knee wiggle, and her tail flip. “We’re about to get a customer!” she exclaimed. About that time, she and Fluttershy saw their friend in the cowpony hat cantering toward the garage door, almost breaking into a full gallop in her hurry to get there.

“Oh my,” remarked Fluttershy, “She looks like she’s been startled. I hope this case isn’t anything dangerous.”

“So what can we do ya for, pardner?” Pinkie giggled as Applejack slapped two bits onto the top of the gasoline can on the folding table. Nopony knows what gasoline is, either, but Pinkie liked to keep her bits in the empty can.

“I think I found Equestria’s most perfect apple, the one that’s going to win this year’s Ponyville Produce Producers Pageant,” said Applejack.

“You mean the contest that Carrot Top wins every year?” asked Pinkie.

“I thought her name was Golden Harvest,” said Fluttershy.

“It don’t matter what you call her,” Applejack grumbled, “She wins every year! She brings in flawless carrots, and no matter how carefully I buck my apples down, I wind up in second place! They always find a bruise, or a spot that’s not shiny enough, or even a spot that’s too shiny! But this time I was bucking out in the back forty, up against the edge of the Everfree Forest, and found a tree that is growing the shiniest, most perfectly shaped apple with a brilliant golden color.”

“So what’s the problem?” asked Pinkie.

“I want you to help me decide whether to pick it,” said Applejack.

Fluttershy blinked, confused. But Pinkie Pie just smiled, donned her deerstalker cap, and filled the cup of her bubble pipe with a little soap and water.

“Lead the way, Jackie!,” Pinkie bubbled, both figuratively and literally, thanks to the pipe, “C’mon, Fluttershy, the game is ahoof!”

Applejack’s orchards and farm were on the outskirts of town. They passed the farmhouse and--after spending a moment good-naturedly teasing Fluttershy about the way she blushed when she walked past the window of Applejack’s sturdy older brother Big Macintosh--continued to walk on into the fields with the trees. Lots and lots of trees. Pinkie Pie was dismayed to find that Applejack’s “back forty” was probably more like the “back four thousand”. They walked past countless rows of trees, all filled with apples of the same appealing red color and plump juicy roundness.

It had been almost five minutes since Pinkie Pie’s last snack, and her blood sugar was getting low. She was about to ask Applejack if they could stop for a break and get a treat from the treetops, when they stepped into a clearing and saw it.

A field of saplings, spaced far apart to accommodate how big the young trees would eventually get. The saplings ran right up to the dark foliage of the Everfree Forest. The Forest was the edge of pony civilization. Nopony went in the Everfree Forest without a really good reason; there were all sorts of dangerous wild creatures and mysterious magics there. In the middle of the field was a sapling that had grown twice as tall as any of the surrounding trees, and hanging off one of the branches was a single apple, an apple like nothing in all the orchards they had just trudged through.

It was brilliant gold, glinting in the light like the flickers of flame from a candle. As if they were moths, the ponies were drawn closer the apple so they could appreciate the perfect shape, a shape that seemed to radiate a sense of crispness and juiciness. Unable to resist its allure, Pinkie reached out to the apple, only to feel Applejack firmly slap her hoof back to the ground. Applejack then looked up and spoke to the tree:

“Alright, I brought my friends. Go ahead and tell ‘em what you told me.”

“Ahhhhhh, felt the need to bring in some...devil’s advocatesssss, did we?” replied a voice, which then let out a soft chuckle. Or was that a hiss?

The ponies searched the tree for the source of the voice only to suddenly realize that it had been there on the branch the whole time, less than a hoof’s reach from their faces. In more relaxed circumstances, Applejack would have remarked to Pinkie, “You were so close that if it’d been a snake, it would’ve bit ya.” But in this case, she simply tensely watched the voice’s owner, which in this case actually was a snake.

It was a dull brown, with flecks of brighter copper scattered amoung the scales that graced its length, a pattern that made it almost invisible against the bark of the apple tree. The snake’s face was armored in dull grey scales pierced by two eyes that glowed green with intelligence and...something else. As it lifted its neck higher in order to address them, Pinkie and Applejack retreated back a step or two despite themselves. Fluttershy disappeared.

“It really is a simple thing. I was congratulating you on your accomplishment in raising this wonderful tree and encouraging you to partake of the fruits of your labo-”

The snake came to an abrupt stop as it felt something tugging on its tail.

“OH MY! I’ve never seen a talking snake before! How WONderful!” cooed Fluttershy, who was beating her pegasus wings to softly float at the snake’s level in the tree. She lifted the tail and peered underneath, “And it’s a female! If you don’t mind my asking, Mrs. Snake, are you ovoviviparous?”

The snake coiled tightly around the branch and yanked her tail away from Fluttershy’s grasp. She glared coldly at the pegasus, before suddenly glancing at the ponies watching from the ground and relaxing her grip on the branch. In the sweetest tones a snake can manage, she finally replied, “I’m quite sorry, my dear, but my cloaca, my businessss. And rather than ‘Mrs. Snake’, you may call me Beelzebub.”

Pinkie loved introductions. “Hi, Bubba! I’m Detective Pinkie Pie! Welcome to Ponyville! You already know Applejack, and I see you’re getting to be close with my detective’s assistant Fluttershy! We’ll have to plan a welcome party!”

The snake closed its eyes for a moment, and brought its tail around to its face, trying its best to rub its temples while the pony in a deerstalker cap launched into a song medley and fired cake batter out of a cannon. Beelzebub had been doing what she did for a long time, and this was far from the way these engagements usually happened. But this time the prize was too great to abandon out of annoyance.

“It is a pleasure to meet you all, I assure you,” the snake stated tersely. “But back to the business at hand. Applejack has been granted the opportunity of a lifetime. Years of sweat and toil and back-breaking labor has expanded her farm to the edge of the Everfree Forest, where one of her trees has been pollinated by a tree I am very familiar with: the Tree of Knowledge. Hence I am able to live in this tree, free of the darkness of the Everfree Forest and basking in the glorious sunlight of what you call Equestria.” Bubba stretched out above the tree, where both she and Fluttershy could see over the hills toward town. The snake’s green eyes again gleamed with that intelligence and...something else...as she regarded the spire of Town Hall visible in the distance.

“All Applejack needs do is partake of the fruit of this tree and she will know truths and wisdoms that have been lost to the ages. She will become as one of the goddesses!”

“And I can take that shiny apple to the Ponyville Produce Producers Pageant and finally win that trophy instead of Golden Harvest!” beamed Applejack.

“I thought her name was Carrot Top,” said Fluttershy.

“It doesn’t matter what her name is,” hissed Bubba. “Your paltry contest at the fairgrounds is but the beginning! Applejack! The power of this fruit will be sought by all, and you shall be the one that wields it! I will help you raise more of these wonderful trees and your orchards shall spread far and wide. Your trees will be everywhere! In the hills in the distance! In the town! Perhaps even in the gardens of that castle on the far-off mountain! And all you need do is reach up and take this beautiful apple!”

“My apple trees growing in the Princess’ garden in Canterlot Castle! Fancy that!” Applejack mused, with a far-off look. Then she shook the wonder out of her eyes with a toss of her golden mane and looked to Pinkie.

“OK, Pinkie, you’ve heard the sales pitch. But this isn’t the first time I’ve come across plants and critters from the Everfree Forest. It’s taken my Granny a lifetime to understand all the ins and outs of raising Zap Apples to make Zap Apple Jam, and for all the good it does the farm it’s one heck of an obligation. You hafta do what the Zap Apples want, when they want it.”

Pinkie eyes lit up, “Yeah, and that’s just a Zap Apple that doesn’t do anything but taste good! Remember what happened that time we ran into Poison Joke? You shrunk to the size of a chipmunk and Fluttershy’s voice got really deep and my tongue swelled up where I couldn’t talk! Omigosh, what if you ate the golden apple and you couldn’t talk anymore? You’d have to go to the Ponyville Produce Producers Pageant and have to write notes to the judges and when you won and everyone would be shouting, ‘Speech! Speech!’ you’d have to stand there not talking and ponies would think you’re being rude and you wouldn’t get invited to next year’s Pageant and all you could do is write a note that said you were glad you weren’t the size of a chipmunk! Well, maybe a little bigger than a chipmunk. Fluttershy, do you have any chipmunks at your cottage we could measure? OH! we could have a Pre-Ponyvile Produce Producers Pageant Chipmunk Measuring Party so we’d know what Applejack would have to write on her note!”

Bubba rolled her eyes while Applejack and Fluttershy waited patiently for Pinkie to wind down. Then Applejack concurred, “Exactly! It sounds like a good deal, but I don’t take anything from the Everfree Forest lightly. So, Detective Pinkie, do you think I should I should pick this here shiny apple?”

Detective Pinkie Pie closed her eyes for a moment. In the silence of the sapling orchard all anyone could hear was the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze and a faint squeaking sound that Fluttershy associated with the wheels in her hamsters’ cages.

She slowly opened her eyes and took one last puff into her pipe, watching the bubbles float into the air, rising to the level of the snake’s head as Bubba stared longingly at the spire of Town Hall in the distance. Then the bubbles finally popped.

“There’s no way you’ll win the Ponyville Produce Producers Pageant with that apple.” Pinkie Pie announced. “It’s obvious if you think about it.” Then she leaned forward and whispered in Applejack's ear.

“I reckon you're right,” replied Applejack, at which point she put a bucket under the branch and bucked HARD against the trunk of the tree, dropping the snake into the bucket. She quickly snapped a lid on the top.

The snake thrashed around in the bucket. The muffled voice sounded like it was wailing, “NO! I was ssssssssssooooo closssssssssssse! Why?!”

“Would you like to take Bubba home as a pet, Fluttershy?” asked Applejack.

“I’d love to,” Fluttershy grinned, “But ever since that time the boa got loose and there was that...misunderstanding, Angel Bunny doesn’t want me to keep a herpetarium anymore. But Twilight Sparkle knows the princess! Maybe Princess Celestia knows where Bubba belongs. Besides, I bet Twilight would love to keep this beautiful animal in her library for a while.”

“Sounds like a plan,” smiled Applejack as she bucked the tree again, uprooting it. She crushed the golden apple into the dirt under her hoof and asked the detective, “What do you think, Pinkie?”

“I think I have two bits back at the garage we can use to throw a party!”

How did Pinkie Pie know the apple wouldn’t place at the Ponyville Produce Producers Pageant? Scroll down for the answer.

The golden apple was in a tree with a snake in it. Snakes eat critters like mice and chipmunks. If the snake was in the tree, it was probably chasing mice and chipmunks. And nopony wants to eat an apple with chipmunk footprints all over it, silly!

Chaser

“For the last time, no!” Rarity yelled attempting to slam the door in Blueblood’s face only to be stopped by a guard’s hoof.

Blueblood frowned. “Ms. Rarity I honestly believe you underestimate the value of my offer. Your business would boom and you certainly seem like you could use it. All that I ask for is for a simple date. Now what do you say?” He said, channeling all his charm into a smile.

Rarity smiled a little covering her mouth to suppress a giggle.

“Can I take that as a yes?” Blueblood asked taking a confident step into the shop.

“Well,” Rarity replied placing her hooves on his shoulders pulling him close, “I suppose I can only answer in one way.”

Blueblood chuckled, closing his eyes and leaning in for the kiss, confident that no mare could resist his charms before being tossed to the ground in a heap.

“I would have to answer that you are one of the most disgusting, loathsome, stallions that I have meet and I can and have dated rocks with more charm than you!” Rarity yelled hovering over a wide eyed Blueblood. The guard who flanked him could only stare onwards, jaws hanging open.

“Now kindly remove your sorry flank off of my property!” she screamed before turning to the guards. “As for you gentlemen, I highly suggest you request a transfer. This toad doesn’t deserve to be guarded by such gentlemen,” she said, seemingly losing all the anger she had just exhibited. “Now I bid you a good night,” she said slamming the door to the boutique shut behind her.

Blueblood lay in a heap on the ground in shock before violently shaking his head and reverting back to his normal state. “What are you idiots doing? Get your jaws off the floor and help me up!” he demanded.

The guards scrambled to complete their orders while Blueblood was busy getting all the dirt off his pristine coat.

“Take me to the nearest bar,” Blueblood groaned, as he was lifted back onto his hooves.

“This bar is horrid!” Blueblood exclaimed, throwing his hooves up in the air. A few farm ponies glared at him before returning to their drinks and conversations while Blueblood continued to complain. “First the vodka and now the scotch! Does this establishment have any good drinks?”
One of the guards spoke up. “Sir, if you wish to leave, we can do so.”

Blueblood glared at the guard. “Why so we can go to another bar of your choosing? No thanks. I believe we’ve already established that you have no taste in liquor,” He growled before struggling to swallow the rest of his scotch. “You know what you two are dismissed,” he continued slamming his glass onto the table.

The guards looked at each other.

“Are you too stupid to follow an order? You are dismissed. Remove yourselves from my parents. I don’t care if you go to have sex in the restroom just do it far out of my sight.”

One of the guards rolled his eyes as they got up from their seats, and left the bar. Blueblood picked up the menu and began to see if they had anything worth tasting.

“Someone seems upset.”

Blueblood groaned having to put down his menu without even being able to look at it the drinks available. “May I help you?” he asked in a manner that practically screamed for his visitor to leave. Unfortunately for Blueblood the pony wasn’t leaving.

It was a black unicorn with a fiery red mane that had now occupied the chair across from Blueblood. Blueblood couldn’t see his cutie mark but assume it was something akin to a pitch fork or a picture of the gates to Tartarus. Worst of all he wore a big grin that sent shivers down Blueblood’s spine as soon as he laid eyes on it.

“Actually I was wondering if you could. You seem like a man who’s upset about something and I was curious of what that would be?”

“Well for starters, you are turning out to be quite aggravating,” Blueblood replied, picking the drink menu back up.

“Aww don’t be that way, friend,” the unicorn replied taking the drink menu from Blueblood’s grasp. Blueblood began to grumble. “You look like the kind of man who wants the cider her anyways.”

“I suppose I’ll have to take your word on that,” Blueblood said before calling the waitress over. “Now, why are you here?”

The unicorn chuckled. “I excel at helping ponies with their problems and you are a pony with a problem. So I ask again, what’s the issue?”

Blueblood ordered some cider before responding. “It’s a mare,” he said bluntly.

The unicorn chuckled. “The fairer sex. Always is.”

Blueblood raised an eyebrow. “You’ve dealt with these problems before?” he asked while his drink was placed before him.

“Oh of course,” the unicorn replied after asking for a cider for himself. “Question is, how are you looking to improve yourself?”

Blueblood almost choked on his drink. After coughing and sputtering for a few seconds he finally was able to respond. “Improve myself? It’s her who needs the improvement!”

Unicorn grinned wider. “Ah, I see what you want.”

Summoning magic with almost no effort, the unicorn popped a small vial before Blueblood.

“That is the most powerful love potion in existence. One drop, she’ll give herself up for a week. Two drops, you’ll have her for a year. Three and you’ll have the most loyal trophy wife for the rest of your natural life. Interested?”

Blueblood considered it for a moment. “Is it curable?” he asked suspiciously.

“Two weeks of medical magic exposure, minimum,” the unicorn said reassuringly.

“How much?” Blueblood asked, glaring at the unicorn.

The unicorn took a swig of cider before sighing. “Here’s where it gets problematic bud. Potions like that take some energy. Added with the obvious risk of it being not exactly legal the cost comes to about one thousand bits.”

“Done,” Blueblood replied bluntly, pulling his checkbook out of the saddlebags his guards had carried for him (he noted he would have to carry them himself souring his mood quite a bit).

“Well then,” the unicorn said taking the check, “I expected a little more thought, but I suppose I shouldn’t complain. Now one note about the potion; you shouldn’t under any circumstances poison her with more than 5 drops.”

Blueblood raised an eyebrow. “Why is that?” he asked, sliding the potion and checkbook snuggly into his saddlebags.

“Well,” the unicorn started, checking around to see if anyone had caught onto their business. “Thing is more than necessary makes the mare in question into a total freak. It’s nice at first since you can get away with some real nasty stuff in the bedroom but it tends to tip off everypony who even remotely know the poor gal that something’s up.”

“I take it you know from experience?”

“Two weeks minimum to cure wasn’t a number coming out of my ass friend,” he said glancing around. “Well, I’ve gotta go handle some business elsewhere, but I’ll be around for about a month and should be here for about a month before I move on,” he said raising himself from his seat. For the first time Blueblood caught a glimpse of his cutie mark, it being a potion flask with no label. While not as bad as he’d imagined it did little to quell his unease.

“And what is your name?” Blueblood called out to the unicorn.

“That’s not important,” he called back. “Good luck with your lady troubles!”

And with that, he disappeared out the door. Blueblood shrugged as he gathered up his saddlebags and threw enough bits to cover the tab onto the table. After he gathered up his belongings he took his last swig of cider. He had to hand it to the stranger, he was right about recommending it.

“Hello and welcome to Rarity’s boutique where everything is... it’s just you again,” she groaned once she noticed who had entered her store. “Must I get a restraining order?” she mumbled to herself.

“Look Miss Rarity, I am here to make amends. I meant no offense,” Blueblood said turning on his charm. Rarity wasn’t falling for it.

“Wonderful, now that you have done so you can leave my shop,” she said turning to a dress she was working on.

“Come on Rarity. We both know that that isn’t a proper apology. Besides, we don’t want to waste a perfectly good bottle of champagne do we?”

“If I do this, will you leave me alone?” She groaned turning back to give him a pouty face.

“If that’s what you want, then yes I shall,” Blueblood replied.

“Well then I suggest you hurry up and pour us two glasses because I have many dresses to make. I shall be there once this one is finished.”

Blueblood nodded while on the inside he was dancing with excitement. He tried to reign in his excitement until he reached the kitchen. Once there he poured the glasses with the champagne. Once he was finished he pulled out the potion out and began to contemplate how much to put. Rarity was quite attractive and he could see being with her for a while, but he was never one to stick around with his conquests. While he was mulling it over a nasty thought came into his head. With a wicked grin he poured the entire vial into the potion.

“That is for ruining my coat, twice,” he whispered to himself.

Right as he threw away the vial Rarity walked into the kitchen. “Let’s get this over with.”

Blueblood casually handed her the drugged drink to Rarity who immediately drank the whole thing. “Now than I do believe you promised to leave.”

“Umm you sure?” Blueblood said in a panic, realizing the unicorn never specified how the potion worked. “There’s still plenty of champagne in the bottle.”

“Well it’s wonderful for you to offer but I must get back to work,” Rarity said walking to the door.

“Ar-are you sure,” Blueblood stammered as Rarity opened the door.

“Yes! I am quite sure!” Rarity yelled growing annoyed. “Now please, le—”

Rarity froze, staring wide eyed at Blueblood.

“Rarit—” was all Blueblood could manage before being tackled to the floor.

“Please don’t go!” Rarity cried, tears running down her face.

“I’m only going to get some food for us,” Blueblood replied in a panic.

“Oh I don’t need food, I need you!” Rarity yelled holding his hoof in a death grip.

Blueblood took a chance after kicking her off his hoof. To make a run for the door. He didn’t make it very far.

“We can go together,” Rarity pleaded.

“Honey, I appreciate the... clinginess but it’s been a week and I need to have some space.”

Rarity continued to cry while Blueblood struggled to free himself before coming to realization.

“Rarity you know what would make me very happy?”
Rarity got off of him almost immediately. “Yes my love what is it!” she squealed.

“I need you to make me a nice suit, and I want you to make yourself something sexy for tonight.”

Rarity giggled uncontrollably. “Yes, love oh most certainly.” She managed to say between giggles before dashing to her inspiration room.

Blueblood let out a sigh of relief and snuck out of the house.

“There you are!” Blueblood exclaimed sliding into the booth the unicorn was at.

“Ah I was just thinking of you friend. So how’s the potion working? Everything going as advertised?” the unicorn said with a grin.

“Oh it’s doing more than advertised and not in a good way!” Blueblood said as loud as he could without attracting attention. “She won’t let go of me unless I give her something to do and she treats me like I’m her god!”

“See I warned you not to use more than five drops. How many did you put in?”

“All of it!” Blueblood hissed through gritted teeth.

“Whoa nelly!” the unicorn chuckled. “I’ve met some greedy ponies, but to put the whole thing...”

“Look, you need to fix this mess before somepony gets suspicious,” Blueblood whispered looking around to make sure no one was listening.

“Alright friend, tell you what I’ll give you this here potion,” he said poofing a vial of a nasty green looking liquid on the table. “And all you have to do is this,” he continued poofing in a piece of paper and a quill.

Blueblood didn’t hesitate before signing and grabbing the potion. “Now do I give this for her or—”

“Calm down friend, that potion is for you. Now I suggest going to the restroom and drinking that ASAP!”

“Yes, of course,” Blueblood stammered before galloping off to the restroom.

The unicorn sighed, rising from the seat and began to proofread the contract.

Recognizing my faults and mistakes, I hereby commit my life to an eternity in Tartarus. I also recognize by accepting death’s embrace that my soul shall be used as the heads of Tartarus see fit. Should I say otherwise this contract may be used against me. Signed Prince Blueblood of Equestria.

The unicorn chuckled. It didn’t matter what the contract said, he would still find ponies to sign it. The fact that he had bagged a prince made the matter even better. Still Tartarus would soon need its potion master and he wasn’t one to lollygag once his business was done.

What Dealings..?

Applejack's hooves kicked up dust as she trotted over the sun-baked fields of Sweet Apple Acres. Beads of sweat started to slide down the sides of her face, and without losing step she wiped them away.

“Hoo-nelly, startin' to feel the heat.”

Hay had been moved and the barn door was repaired before the first perspiration appeared, when normally it would come during field work. A surefire indicator that the day was going to be a scorcher, but with all that had been happening lately, the fields did wonders in clearing Applejack's head.

“Better mosey this up before it gets too hot, heheh.”

Applejack trotted ever onward to the start of the other end of the field when something caught her eye, bringing her to a stop. Far off to her right a small light orange filly was rolling about by the edge of the apple orchard. Applejack crooked her head at the sight of the filly, and forgetting her work schedule she turned and trotted over to the orchard and its little guest.

“What's this here?”

In little time Applejack reached the edge of the orchard and was standing before the filly. Now up-close, Applejack could see that it was a very peculiar-looking pegasus, with light yellow hair with small streaks of other colors at the edges. The filly stopped rolling about and sat up to look at Applejack, the farm mare seeing something remarkably familiar in the little pony's freckled face.

“Um, howdy there, little one,” Applejack greeted, tipping her hat in courtesy. “What are ya doin' rolling around out here by yerself?”

The filly simply tilted her head before making an adorable grin. “I figured you could use a break,” she said in an awfully familiar twang.

Before Applejack could say anything, the filly got back on her hooves and trotted away into the orchard. Confused yet curious by the youngster, Applejack just trotted along after her.

“So, where are your parents, sugarcube?” Applejack asked.

“Busy somewhere,” was the prompt reply, but then the filly came to an abrupt halt and stood motionless. Applejack did the same, only now with apprehension.

“Umm, little one?”

“You know something?” The filly turned to look up at Applejack with a scrunched-up, stern look. “You're a very thick mare.”

“Huh?”

“All you care about is working all day long, focused on proving yourself to no one in particular, except just for you.” The filly wagged a forehoof in a scolding manner as she talked. “A stubborn, head-strong fool is what you are, despite whatever you say about being sensible. You're even irritatingly stubborn when it comes to looking after your own kin. The way you look after them, it's practically selfish. Never taking into consideration the feelings of others. It's a wonder how it all came to be, now that I think about it. You were just too much alike.”

“Wait, what?”

The filly quit her lecture, and with a giggle, turned about and ran off deeper into the orchard.

“Hey, hold on!” Applejack cried as she galloped after her. Despite the filly's stubby little legs, she had disappeared from Applejack's sight after only a few yards running amongst the apple trees. “What in tarnation?”

She kept running in search of the filly. A minute went by and the filly was nowhere in sight, but then an odd sound reached Applejack's ear. She ran in the direction of the sound, and eventually came upon a pony sitting beneath an apple tree with a crate of apples betwixt their legs.

The pony, to Applejack's surprise, looked an awful lot like her, including her hat and cutie mark. Yet they had a different color-shading, and even more off-putting, looked morphed in appearance, in the way that their mouth was opened wide and unnatural as it stuffed apples into it. Though unnerved, Applejack approached the lookalike.

“Howdy there,” she said, but was ignored by the other pony's gluttonous undertaking. “Say, maybe you should hold back on them apples. Ya don't wanna get sick-”

As she reached over to the pony with a gentle hoof, it was slapped back roughly.

“Buck off, I'm gonna eat all these apples!”

Not only did the comment come off as harsh and desperate, it also sounded like a very bad impression of a Southern farm girl... as done by a male.

“Uh, o-okay,” Applejack said, looking around some. “You didn't see a little filly run by here? Pegasus, blonde mane with some colors in it?”

“Nope, don't care fer kids,” the Other-jack said between apples. “Just need my fixin's.”

“So, uh, what are you doin' here? Eatin', what I'm assumin' to be, my apples?”

“Hey, you know why we grow this stuff?” the burly-voiced mare said, pointing an apple accusingly at her. “It's an escape that's what it is. No guy's gonna want somepony as average-looking as us, and outside the farm we're completely useless. We lack the means to function like normal people, uh ponies. These apples are the sole basis for waking up and giving a damn about life, and gorging on them is the only way to forget just how pathetic our bumpkiny lives are. Certainly less a pain in the ass then to go clam-digging.”

“I beg yer pardon?” Applejack had never heard something so insulting and self-deprecating, not to mention odd, especially that last term. Just then, a hover carriage pulled up to the two, and a side door window rolled down to allow a platinum-maned head poke out.

“I have to disagree with you on that,” the mare said in a very crisp, posh accent, then turning to the original Applejack, “Step inside, dear. There is much to discuss.”

The carriage door opened and a step ramp unfolded. Preferring the strange vehicle over further company with the Other-jack, Applejack trotted up the steps and into the carriage. As the door closed, the farm mare found the interior much more spacious than the outside would have indicated, with long plush seats, buckets filled with ice and apple sodas, and even a swanky chandelier. Applejack took a seat across from the older mare, who was dressed in stylish black like a financier.

“Nice carriage you got here,” Applejack said as the carriage's air-conditioning kicked in. “Mind me askin' who ya are and what yer doin' on my property, and fer that matter, if you know who that other pony was?”

“Oh, you should know it's not easy being as wealthy as I am,” said the refined mare, ignoring Applejack's questions completely. “It was rough at first, having moved to the city at a very young age. But using my country gumption and wits, I had made a name for myself in just a few years. I shook down investors and gained stocks like you wouldn't believe. I made my first million bits at nineteen. These days I spend most of my days in a lavish, twenty-thousand square foot manor overlooking Horseshoe Bay, filled with the finest in jewelry, art, and twenty stallions on-hoof to fulfill whatever needs or wants I may have. But it is an empty life.”

The mare paused to swirl a chilled glass of apple juice, then said, “I had eyes only for one brash, darling mare. The only one who could match my tenacity, but she had her own dreams, her own fixations, and took off before I could truly get to know her. For all my millions and stocks and fleet of airships, I'd give it all away for a chance to be with that mare, to experience... love, true and pure.”

“Okay, I've had about enough of this!” Applejack stomped a hoof on the velvet carpeting. “You didn't answer my question: who are you? For that matter, I think you're in cahoots with that other me and that one filly. Everything's just been so gosh darn weird today and I want some answers, dagnabbit! What's goin' on here?”

“I believe this would be a good time to catch you up to speed.”

Suddenly the inside of the carriage collapsed inward into darkness, seemingly being swallowed up by darkness. Applejack soon found herself standing in a vast emptiness alone; the well-to-do mare had gone with the rest of the carriage, and the air was still enough to be nonexistent.

“What now?”

”What you have just seen were three of thousands of different iterations of your very life, nay, existence. Promises of joy, of wealth, of satisfaction. These are the myriads of lives you would walk, but will never experience. They are the very realm of possibility made manifest for you to behold.

Applejack rubbed her head. “And what was the point of showing them to me?”

“I thought it'd make a neat transition into what I'm about to do next.”

From the void there rose up a red-cloaked figure, seemingly oozing into crimson creation. The being towered high over Applejack, its face covered in the shadow of a menacing cowl.

“I come here because someone dear to you is hanging by a thread. You sought escape from the pain through work, for it is the only thing you know. But no matter how hard you try, you cannot escape from the terrible truth. Of the fate that awaits you dear, sweet, beloved grandmother.”

“You mean Granny Smith?” Applejack raised an eyebrow. “She only pulled her hip the other day trying to grab some pie from the sill.”

“Yes, but it is no less of a grave threat to her very life.

“Um, not really. It's happened before.”

“This time, however, it is truly dire! The last straw, her final hours, they approach and close in on her!”

“She was playing horseshoes with Apple Bloom just this mornin'-”

“The decrepitness of her age will finally take its toll on her!”

A great wail and bellow of heated wind flooded the space, pushing Applejack back and nearly knocking off her hat.

“If you wish to save your dear grandmother's life, I must have from you the one thing that makes your life worth living. That which is sweeter than any melody, more delicious than any apple tart, and above all saucier than any tabasco factory. I speak, of course, of your love for RAINBOW DASH.”

“W-WHAT!?” Applejack's jaw practically hit the none-floor. “My love fer... What kind of hooey is this?”

“It is a love that surpasses the glory of the gods themselves, and causes angels to sing out in immaculate chorus upon mentioning. Such happiness tears at my dark heart, tormenting me in all its splendor, and I want to have it torn out. By taking the love you have for that one special somepony, I will save your grandmother's life. Wouldn't you say that's fair, Rainbow Dash?”

A section of the phantom's cloak receded, revealing Rainbow Dash behind it, much to Applejack's surprise and shock.

“AJ, what's happening? Where am I? What is this place?” Rainbow Dash stumbled over to her friend, as the phantom continued his spiel.

“Your feelings for this pegasus are strong enough to withstand the tests of time, and it is such romance that you must surrender to ensure your grandmother lives to see another day.”

Rainbow Dash did a double take. “You have feelings for me, AJ? Uh, listen, I like you a lot as a friend, but I'm just not like that.”

“Neither am I, RD!”

“Nooooo, don't listen to him, Applejack!” From above a ghostly form descended over the phantom, of withered green fur and crotchety disposition.

“Granny Smith!?” Applejack cried.

“Don't worry bout me, my precious granddaughter,” Granny Smith rattled. “Don't go sacrificin' yer love fer a fossil like me. Be with yer special somepony with my blessin'!”

“Granny Smith, I don't think of Rainbow that way!” Applejack yelled, appalled. “What gave you that idea?”

“Big Sis, you actually like Rainbow Dash?”

“Oh no...” To Applejack's dismay, another ghostly form, of red and yellow, hopped on over.

“Does this mean Rainbow is gonna be a Big Sis too? Scootaloo's gonna be so jealous!” the incorporeal form of Apple Boom said with a hop.

“No Apple Bloom, me and Rainbow aren't gettin' together, and you ain't gettin' another big sister!”

“Actually, it'd probably be cool for her to have me for a-”

“Don't even start, RD! IT'S NOTHIN' LIKE THAT, AT ALL!”

“You can free yourself from the torment of your grandmother's suffering by freeing yourself of the love you hold for sweet Rainbow Dash.”

“I don't love her!”

“Don't be ridiculous; yer like two seeds in an apple core,” Granny spoke up. “He's tryin' to pull the wool over yer eyes!”

“No he's not, Granny. I'm telling you all I don't love her!”

“You sure about that?” Rainbow asked.

“Another big sister, YAAAY!”

“Yer parents won't think any less of you, dearie. Just let me pass on!”

“I've never been in a committed relationship before...”

“Make your decision now. Delay your loved ones no longer!”

Applejack ducked and withdrew into herself as her friend and family kept urging her well into an incessant drone, until finally, unable to put up with the pressure, she stood up and cried out with all her rage and passion:

“NYRAAARGH! Do it.”

The phantom chuckled deeply. “Very well. Just sign the form.”

With a wave of the cloak, a table materialized, covered with an ink pot, feather quill, and a sheet of paper filled with tiny, barely readable print, with the exception of the phrase: “I AGREE TO THE TERMS STIPULATED IN THIS CONTRACT.” Without pause Applejack trotted over to the table, took up the quill in her mouth, and signed on the dotted line, never once bothering to read anything on the documents. After she stepped back from the table, the phantom lifted up the signed form.

“Then it's settled: the union of you and Rainbow Dash shall never come to pass. For saving your caretaker, you shall live a life bereft of true love. Such outcomes make for such sweet sorrow.”

There is an audible snap, and in a blast of color Applejack plopped down back onto the untended fields of Sweet Apple Acres. All was quiet save for the midday breeze and some passing birds, and nopony else was in sight. Applejack rubbed the back of her neck as she looked around, feeling the coolness of her skin despite the absence of sweat.

“What... the hay?”

For the longest time she sat there, utterly stumped and at a loss for what she had just experienced. Possible heatstroke? Whatever the reason, ultimately felt that it had all been completely pointless.

End...

Cider and Fireworks, the Way to Complete Domination

“Then, we have an agreement?”

“Trixie accepts the terms of this arrangement.”

The three hunched figures pulled their coats tighter, lest wary eyes gain a curiosity to the alleyway they were standing in.

“Trixie shall provide the fireworks, which will be amazing, because besides being the greatest and most powerful magician around, Trixie is also a skilled pyrotechnic.”

The two unicorns opposite of Trixie nodded, “And we shall provide the “refreshments” to make your magic shows the most memorable and dazzling in all of Equestria.”

Trixie nodded, pleased, “Trixie shall meet back here next week to discuss additional terms should this arrangement not hold up to Trixie’s expectations.”

“We’ll do the same. Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Lulamoon.”

“All business done with Trixie is pleasurable!”

The two unicorns raised their eyebrows inquisitively at the showmare. Trixie caught her mistake and flushed, “So, next week then?”

All three nodded, before turning their separate ways and disappearing into the night.

“PREPARE TO BE DAZZLED, STUPIFIED, AND OTHERWISE ENTERTAINED BY THE GREAT AND POWERFUL TRIXIE!”

Fireworks burst from the corners of the stage, exploding and lighting the sky in a collage of colours. The audience oooh’d and aaaah’d at the display, as the showmare herself appeared on the stage from the smoke.

Trixie is very smart of installing that trap door!

“Mares and Gentlecolts, I, the GREAT and POWERFUL Trixie, is here to bring excitement to your dull and pitiful lives, to enrich your daily routine with the flashy, powerful spells that only I, Trixie, and definitely so Twilight Sparkle, could perform!”

More fireworks exploded behind the magician, to add exaggeration to her speech. The smoke died again, and Trixie turned to face the audience.

There wasn’t a single round of applause, or even a smile, from the ponies in the audience. Trixie swallowed nervously. Then came the usual treatment…

“Did she call us pitiful!?” One mare asked, pointing a hoof at Trixie incriminatingly.

“I think she did!” A colt from the back yelled.

Trixie doesn’t think this is going too well.

More voices began to speak up, expressing their distress.

“She thinks she’s better than us!”

“I heard she got thrown out of Ponyville for the same act!”

“I-…, I mean Twilight Sparkle would definitely be able to do these spells as well!”

That’s when the booing started. The amplitude of it forced Trixie to back against the wall of her stage, as she tossed her head back frantically to look at the wave of angry ponies suddenly advancing on her. From every direction, they came, frowns on their faces. Trixie knew what would come next.

“We want a refund!” bellowed about every pony in the audience.

Get a hold on this audience, Trixie, Trixie can do this!

The showmare pulled herself from the wall, and walked towards the horde of displeased customers.

“Trixie will admit she was a bit… rude… but I’m sure we can figure this all out. Right?”

“REFUND! REFUND! REFUND!” chanted the audience.

It was all or nothing now.

“But Trixie has had the good intentions to provide refreshment to her customers provided they stay and watch!”

The crowd fell silent, before one pony spoke up. “Refreshment?”

Trixie gestured towards the left side of the stage, past the fireworks canon. And there it stood. A table. Not much by any standard, as most people have tables, but what was on the table was important, for ponies put appeasing things on tables, and this table was no exception. There, on the table, in massive amounts sat mugs, and in those mugs….

In those mugs rested cider.

The crowd was now locked on the table, focusing on the beverages that, had Trixie been telling the truth, had been made just for them.

Trixie gulped, droplets of sweat pouring down her brow. “Trixie invites all her friends to relax, and have a drink.”

The ponies turned to look at Trixie, and then back towards the table, to Trixie, and back towards the frothy beverages of ultimate refreshment. One pony in the back spoke.

“Well, if she’s offering us free cider, I guess we can stay for a bit…”

The crowd murmured in agreement, and headed towards the table.

Trixie’s eyes lit up in glee, and she rubbed her hooves together apprehensively.

Trixie feels her performances may just become better after all!

“This is the besty… the breast-… the bestest show I’ve ever coulda attended… tonight… I guess.” The colt stumbled into his buddy, wasting his mug of cider all over the trodden earth beneath. “I spilled my cider…” Tears formed in his eyes.

“Hey…. Hey, dude… hey… hey… don’t worry, have some of mine, it’s just as great.” His friend consoled him, handing the mug over.

“Thanks, dude, listen… listen up… you’re… you’re like a brother to me.”

“I was thinking the same thing. Hug?” He opened his arms with the offer.

“Hug.” The two ponies locked in an embrace, before promptly collapsing into a drunken pile on the ground.

Meanwhile, Trixie stood triumphantly on the stage, the enamoured audience following her every move between mugs of cider and periodic spats of vomiting.

“So Trixie says to this stupid, purple unicorn, that all her feats are just Ursa Minor!`

The crowd exploded in laughter, the bawling and chuckling easily waking up at least half the town.

This is going much better than expected. Trixie is pleased!

And pleased she should be, for not only have the cider worked in keeping the mob from destroying everything, the noise had attracted a dozen more ponies that had paid and stayed to enjoy the show. And best of all, they were liking it!

“TRIXIE! TRIXIE! Tell us the story about how you defeated the Ursa Major again!” Clamoured one pony in the front row.

Trixie looked at her hoof, it was now past midnight. “Well, Trixie isn’t sure she has time…”

The audience sighed in disappointment. Trixie smiled inwardly, “But Trixie can make time!”

The cheering echoed into the night again.

Meanwhile, in the vestiges of Ponyville a crowd was gathering around a familiar machine. It wasn’t a happy crowd, judging from the looks of disapproval on their faces, but that didn’t stop the singing of two red and orange ponies.

“…SUPER SPEEDY CIDER SQUEEZY SIX THOUSAAAAAAAAAAAND!”

The various beep and boops coming from the massive contraption behind them died down as the song ended, leaving Flim and Flam crouched on the dirt in a classic presenting pose of “Here’s our awesome machine, please don’t kill us.”

The group of ponies that had gathered weren’t buying it, however. The colossal mass of several hundred frowns and hateful stares were slowly causing the calm attitude of both Flim and Flam to falter.

“What do we do, Flam?” Flim whispered towards his brother.

“Just let me take care of it, brother.” Flam stood and approached the crowd, a smile on his face. “Greetings, ponies of Ponyville, how would you all like to try some delicious cider?” He flashed his impossibly white smile, typical salesman style.

“We don’t want your cider here anymore,” spoke a pony from the crowd. The group parted, revealing a straight-haired pink pony. “It only brings disappointment and clumps of dirt that get stuck between our teeth.”

Flam was sweating now, struggling to keep his smile genuine enough looking. “But this cider is different. Pure and delicious and certainly not composed of earth, rocks and grass!”

“Please, leave,” the pink pony mumbled again, all joy gone from her features. “We don’t want another repeat.”

Flam turned to look at his brother, and made a quick whistle while clapping his hooves together.

Flim immediately rose from the ground, and broke into a sprint towards the cider contraption.

Where did she install those things!?

He clambered onto the machine, searching high and low until he had arrived by the cider control mechanisms. There, right by the simple ‘on’, ‘off’, ‘on faster’ and ‘no earth in this batch please’ buttons was a new, azure colored switch. Flim gulped, put both hooves on the switch, and threw it.

The SSCS-6000 whirled and hummed, blowing smoke from many a lose spot on the machine’s hull, as a dozen different vertical tubes rose from the body and aimed skyward. Flim, Flam, and the group of gathered individuals, including the pink pony, all turned their eyes to the sight, the former two out of complete fear of failure, the latter two because cool sounds often lead to fun times.

Then the machine puffed twice and died, all the whirling gears inside grinding to a halt.

Flim’s pupils constricted to the size of dots, “Oh sh-”

BANG. The Cider Squeezer exploded in a dazzling display of lights, music, and fireworks. They shot airborne, twirling and spinning, before combusting into an array of dazzling colors and seizure inducing flashes. The ponies around the machine suffered and slow expression change, the frowns turning to smiles, while Flim and Flam breathed a sigh of relief. The display continued, detonations lighting up the sky of Ponyville, while the ponies expressed their amazement at the act and the Flim Flam brothers sent a small thankful prayer to Celestia.

“This changes everything!” One pony declared from the crowd.

“Fireworks are so pretty!” Another added.

“We want cider!” A third said. And there it was, the inevitable change of expression. More began to join in on this chant, the bellowing auditory noise causing the ground to shake.

“Cider. Cider. Cider. Cider!” They chanted.

Flim and Flam smiled deviously. They were back in business.

“Step right up and have a mug of the finest beverage this side of Equestria!” Flam announced.

Flim hopped up top onto the machine, turning his attention to the various cranks and gears required to operate the cider making machine. “All for the price of FIVE bits. Best deal in all of Ponyville,” he called down to the approaching masses of suddenly thirsty ponies.

The mugs poured, ponies swallowed and enough cider was consumed to fill a small ocean, but by the end of the day, as the last pony vomited onto the ground and turned to wobble home, Flim and Flam collapsed onto the ground.

“Jeez, it’s almost mind-blowing how much some pyrotechnics can change the mood,” Flim muttered into the nice, cold earth.

“Never doubt the mood changing abilities of explosions, bright colors, and cheap cider, brother,” Flam responded, sat against the side of the SSCS-6000.

“Back in business?”

“Back in business, indeed.”

Somewhere, in a nearby farmhouse, an orange earth pony dropped the basket of apples she had been carrying and broke out into tears. A red stallion rushed to her side.

“What’s wrong, sis?”

“It’s over… it’s all over…”

A week past, and the startling news made its way all across Equestria. Tales of a magic act so unique, so amazing, with a showmare whose beauty was unequaled swept from town to town. Every show caused her audiences to grow, and more and more ponies began to speak of her prowess for the arcane arts. The showmare, who goes by Trixie Lulamoon, has announced Equestrian wide tours, from Stalliongrad to Cloudsdale and Whinnpeg. There’s rumor she even has private audiences booked with Princess Celestia. A small library also closed up in the town of Ponyville, but the correlation between the two events was never found.

Then there were the cider reports. A machine and two brothers who had single handily ended world thirst and sobriety basically overnight. Wherever there was a thirsty pony, tired of see straight, they were there, with their delicious cider and fabulous firework displays, appeasing to the eyes, and the mouth, more so going down then coming back up. Flim and Flam are speculated to own more bits than the Royal Equestrian Treasury of Celestia herself, and more coffee than Canterlot’s own Pony Joe. The two have announced that they are starting their own company, and are already looking for employees. There are rumors that more Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000’s are in the works.

And at the end of this tremendous week, several ponies reported cloaked figures stealing away to the most threatening, dark corner of Canterlot, where only the vile and misbegotten lurked.

“Trixie is very much pleased with the outcome of this deal,” the unicorn announced as she clanked her mug against the other two.

Flim and Flam nodded, before taking drinks from their cider beverages. “Yes, it was quite the plan, wasn’t it?” Flim asked.

“Never doubt booze and fireworks, I’ve told you this.” Flam chastised.

“Trixie agrees, the two work well together.” The showmare nodded and nursed her own drink. “Trixie also wonders how long this will last.”

“You keep with the fireworks, and we keep with the cider. This could last as long as we want it to, maybe even a secret to pass onto our children. We’ll have more bits than every pony in Equestria added together. Heck, we could buy Equestria!” Flim raised his mug towards the sky, his voice growing louder. “Imagine that.”

“Trixie, Ruler of Equestria! That sounds like something Trixie would like.” The showmare’s eyes grew round with the implications.

Flam finished his cider, and slammed his mug down onto the table with a relieved sigh. “Well, everything appears to be working dandy as is, so… this time next week? Same place?”

Flim nodded, “Works for me.” He placed his mug down too.

Trixie smiled, “It is indeed good for Trixie, thought she will no doubt be exhausted from her many shows and fans.”

The three ponies dawned their cloaks and exited the bar, stealing away into the night.

Allegiance

The little colt jumped on his bed while his mother tried to reason with him.

"It's time for sleep." His mother waved her forelegs around.

"But I don't wanna." But he continued bouncing.

"Come on, you have school tomorrow." A vein appeared on her forehead.

"But I'm not tired." He ignored her pleas.

With a sigh, she sat down on the bed beside him. She rubbed her forehead with her hooves. Finally, an idea popped into her head. A way to put her darling colt to sleep, something that her mother always did for her. She patted a spot next to her and said, "Settle down, Bolt, and I'll read you a bedtime story."

"Yay! A story!" Grinning wide, Crimson Bolt stopped jumping and snuggled next to his mother's side.

Shining Hope smiled and began. "Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria, there were two regal sisters who ruled together, and created harmony for all the land." Crimson Bolt leaned closer, his forelegs rigid and his eyes wide.

"To do this, the eldest used her unicorn powers to raise the sun at dawn; the younger brought out the moon to begin the night."

"What were their names?"

"The older was Celestia, and the younger was Luna," she continued, "Thus, the two sisters maintained balance for their kingdom and their subjects, all the different types of ponies."

Bolt nodded several times.

"But as time went on, the younger sister became resentful."

He tilted his head.

"The ponies relished and played in the day her elder sister brought forth, but shunned and slept through her beautiful night."

His ears drooped and his lips curled downward.

"One fateful day, the younger unicorn refused to lower the moon to make way for the dawn. The elder sister tried to reason with her, but the bitterness in the young one's heart had transformed her into a wicked mare of darkness: Nightmare Moon."

He reached out a hoof as if to say something, but he remained quiet.

"She vowed that she would shroud the land in eternal night. Reluctantly, the elder sister harnessed the most powerful magic known to ponydom: the Elements of Harmony. Using the magic of the Elements of Harmony, she defeated her younger sister, and banished her permanently to the moon."

"What does permanently mean?" Bolt asked.

"Forever," Hope said, spreading her hooves through the air.

"Oh." His jaw dropped open.

She continued, "The elder sister took on responsibility for both sun and moon and harmony has been maintained in Equestria for generations since."

"But Mommy, why did she do that? She just wanted someone to admire her night."

"If Celestia didn't do that, then Nightmare Moon would have shrouded Equestria in eternal darkness." Her mother nuzzled him on the neck.

"What does shroud mean?"

"To cover."

He pouted. "But... that's so mean. She just wanted a friend. Perhaps she was just really lonely?"

With a chuckle, the mother patted her colt on the head and tucked him into bed. "Now, now. I read you a story now. It's time for sleep." She kissed him on the forehead.

"Okay." He wiggled into bed until he was comfortable. After his mom wished him a good night and left the room, he started thinking.

"They didn't even give her a chance," he muttered, staring at the ceiling. "She was just lonely."

He gazed out the window towards the brightly lit moon hanging in the sky. After a few moments of silence, his ears lay flat against his head. Then, his ears perked up again as a brilliant idea popped into his head.

"One day, Luna, I'll visit you and be your friend." As he drifted out to sleep, a smile appeared on his face. “You’ll see...”

Crimson Bolt leaped into the air, only to come crashing down seconds later. He tried to fly again, but Shining Hope put a hoof on his shoulder.

"There's no need to rush it. You'll be able to fly soon enough. Besides, you'll hurt yourself if you keep doing that."

He shook off his mother's hoof and said, "I'll be fine. You worry too much."

After several more unsuccessful attempts, Hope shook her head. "Why are you trying so hard to fly now anyway?"

Bolt, scruffy with bruises and caked with dirt, threw his hooves into the air. "For Luna!"

"For Luna?"

"Yes! I want to fly so I can go to the moon and be Luna's friend!"

Hope paused. She chuckled and patted him on the head. "Well, if you're going to do that, then come inside and eat some food first. You won't be able to fly to the moon unless you eat your vegetables, after all."

He looked at the ground, his tail gently swishing behind him. "Okay..."

His mother went back into the house. Before following her, Bolt turned around and looked up at the sky. "Soon," he muttered.

Bolt climbed the mountain top, occasionally pausing to gather his wits and rest his legs. With labored breathing, he continued his ascent. Sweat trickled down his body. Finally, he could see it. The top of the rocky cliff. With a final heave, he grunted and pulled himself over the edge.

Rolling over onto his back, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Wiping off a bead of sweat that had accumulated, he imagined himself soaring towards the moon.

“Just wait a little bit longer, Luna. I'm coming,” he murmured.

His eyes popped open. Struggling to his hooves, he glanced towards the sky. The cool breeze drifted through his mane and he flexed his tiny wings, spreading them as far as they would go. With a few flaps, he created a small undercurrent.

Backing up to the back of the cliff, he looked towards the moon. He broke into a steady gallop as he approached the cliff edge.

He looked towards the moon... and jumped.

It felt as if he was frozen in mid-air, his wings emitting a gentle buzz as he held himself aloft.

Then, he fell.

His heart leaped into his throat. Plummeting towards the ground, his wings weren't able to flap fast enough. The wind rushed past him, causing his body to tense up. A sense of helplessness flowed through his brain, and then after what seemed like forever... euphoria. An image of Luna's smiling face appeared in his thoughts, and he braced himself.

He bounced off the ground like a rubber ball. He heard a crack as he landed in a sprawled-out heap. Blinding pain shot through him, but he ignored it.

"Luna... Luna... Luna..." he chanted. Crawling to the base of the mountain, he began to climb again.

“What’s taking so long?” said a voice in front of him.

Crimson Bolt shook his head, trying to register who the voice belonged to. He looked forward and saw a dark-blue alicorn sitting in front of him.

“Well?” she asked.

He paused, his eyes bulging. He tried to find his voice. Finally, he cleared his throat. “I’m coming, I’m coming. Hold your horses, Luna.”

Trotting alongside his friend, Crimson Bolt gazed upward and noticed the rays of sunshine beaming from overhead. A cool breeze wafted through his wings, making him shudder. How did he get here? He didn’t know, but chose not to think about it.

"Come on, Bolt. Let's race! Last one to reach the top of the hill buys the other a glass of apple cider!" She pointed towards a spot in the distance, several hundreds of meters away.

"You're on!" Flexing his legs, he braced himself and waited for the signal.

"Go!"

He took off like a bullet, his hooves pounding the ground beneath him like a piston engine. Before long, he panted heavily. Once he had trotted for several seconds, he turned around, expecting to see her behind him. "Haha, slowpok—"

She wasn’t there.

"You're the slowpoke!" said a voice from beside him. Not only had she caught up, she didn’t seem out of breath at all. She shot him a raspberry and zoomed ahead, her wings tucked at her sides.

"Oh no, you don't!" He took a deep breath and concentrated. Ignoring his aching ribs, he pushed forward. As Adrenaline rushed through him, he felt his limbs fill with new life. It was like eating an extra-delicious apple and getting a boost of energy. He began to catch up, as he gradually increased his cantering speed. "I'm gonna win. Just watch me!"

"Uh uh!" She shook her head. They raced as fast as they could, neck in neck. The crest of the hill loomed before them, coming closer with every step. Suddenly, they gazed into each other’s eyes. Time felt as it slowed down, the world around them becoming a blur. Then, she blew him a kiss.

“What th—” He felt something caught my hooves and before he knew it, he was facedown in the dirt. He fell and slid across the ground. The sound of laughter grew further away from him as she climbed the hill, her legs beating against the ground in a flurry.

“That... that was a dirty trick!” he shouted. In a quick moment—just like that—he had lost. Getting to his feet, he walked over to where she stood victorious.

“I won!” came her cheerful cry as she threw her hooves up into the air. Her wings flared outwards. Between giddy bouts of squeals, she performed a celebratory dance.

“Okay, okay. I get it. You won. Still, that was dirty.” He folded my hooves and frowned.

“Aww, don’t be like that.” She planted a kiss on his cheek. “Just a little friendly competition.”

Caught off-guard, his wings flared out.

“Looks like you liked it,” she said as her tail lightly swished behind her.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. At least I’m stronger.”

Suddenly, she jumped forward and pounced on him. They rolled through the grass, their legs and wings locked together. She giggled as they finally came to a stop, with her flank planted squarely on top of him. He squirmed to escape her hold on him, but he couldn’t budge an inch.

“Or not,” he admitted.

Luna let go of him and lay on the grass beside him. “I’m glad we met.”

“M-me too.” Bolt held her hoof in his. "No matter what happens, Luna, I'll always be with you. Always."

Luna snuggled up to his side, and he closed his eyes. “Always and forever.”

He felt something soft laying by his side. When he opened an eye, he found himself not in an open field but in his own bedroom. Luna was gone, replaced by a pillow.

“No! Luna!” He sat up, sweat dripping from his chin. The small remnants of a pleasant dreams faded from his memory, like a long-forgotten memory. All he could remember is how warm he felt.

He gazed out the window. The chirping of crickets quickly hummed underneath the hanging moonlight. On the surface of the moon, five bright stars glistened from above. As he watched, they slowly merged onto a single point.

It formed a pattern of a face. He felt as if it was staring back at him. It felt familiar, but he couldn't put his hoof on why. A chill ran down his spine. He sighed and gently rolled back over, snuggling deeper into the bed sheets.

"Oh Luna..."

“Yay! I’m doing it! I’m really doing it!” Bolt’s wings flapped through the air, holding his entire body up as he surveyed the environment. Vast grassy fields extended below him, and the inhabitants of Ponyville quickly became ants. He soared higher and higher, wind flowing around his body.

“Yeah! Woohoo!” he shouted, spinning around in a circle. “I knew I can do it!”

Finally, after years of countless botched attempts at flight, he had achieved something in his life. Struggling to stifle his giggles, he looked towards his primary goal: the moon.

“Just wait, Luna!”

Pulling his wings back, he flew upwards in the air. Slowly gaining altitude with the wind building beneath his wings, Bolt smiled. He zoomed upwards like a cannon.

“Almost...” He reached a hoof towards the moon.

Onwards, he went. He flew for what felt like forever, but the moon still seemed out of reach. “Come on...”

With labored breathing, his lungs grasped for air. His wings started burning and his body became tense. Finally, he could go on no longer. His legs became stiff and the gravity pulled him downwards.

Drifting... drifting...

Just before he lost consciousness, he felt a gathering of blue smoke whisk him away.

Roads

Roads

I let out a loud yawn as the near darkness of the School for Gifted Unicorns’ library surrounds me in what some would say is ‘blissful tranquility’. I of course would have given anything for there to be some kind of activity. That would have at least kept me more alert.

I sat all alone in the library, way past midnight, head resting on my hooves and quill enveloped in my azure magic, still scribbling away on my notebook while my eyes diligently scanned page after page of the fiftieth books I had read since I had started this project.

I sighed, eyes feeling heavier with each passing hour. My mind was quickly becoming hazy, signaling that I may be at a near end of the evening. Maybe I should get some rest.
“Heh, not an option, I’m afraid,” I told myself in a determined tone. Come Tartarus or high water, I had to get my project complete before the sun rose again.

I took another yawn and looked over the very first page of my project, the cover bearing the title and my name.
Heh, “Arcanum,” I said somewhat out loud. “Who would name their son that?” I asked before I shook my head slowly. I never had much of an affinity for my name.

Growing up, it put me through all sorts of groan-inducing situations. More often than not, I felt like I was being hastily judged because my parent’s bad choice of name. Matters were never helped when my cutie mark finally appeared as an Artium Arcanorum Magicae Circulus; a freagin’ Arcane Magic Circle, complete with small runes and intricate lines. To this day, I had no idea what it really meant.

Sometimes, I resented my parents for forcing me down a path of arcane studies. Just because they were mages didn’t mean I wanted to be one myself. Honestly, I’ve always been more interested in the sciences. Had I the choice, I would change my major and just focus on that. But, I’ve come too far to just give up all my work. What’s done is done, and honestly, I’m not half bad at magic. “Now, if I can only complete this damned thesis.”

My master’s thesis was titled [u[Magic: Order, Chaos, and Neutrality, and while I had no set date to turn it in, I wanted to be done with it as swiftly as possible. One reason I was having such a hard time getting this damn thing written in the first place was because I was up against some pretty steep competition. I had to write the best possible thesis if he wanted to stand a chance against some of my peers.

I once again yawned, rubbing my eyes and running his hoof over my light aquamarine mane. It somewhat matched my coat, which was a navy blue. Now, that somewhat contrasted against my eyes, which were a plain black color, which from what I know is quite uncommon among unicorns. Not that it matters much, as my cutie mark more or less put me in a position where I was anything but common.

I put that idle thought out my mind as I again turned my attention to the book I was almost complete with. The more I read, the wearier I grew. I caught myself several times nodding off into slumber. Every time, I shake my head and lightly knock myself with my hoof over the head. Despite my growing fatigue, I can’t stop reading.
The book had been published some one hundred and fifty years earlier, and was pretty much a forgotten piece of history that most students didn’t even know existed. In a nutshell, the book described in detail how magic was not a simple form of energy, as most grade-school teachers would tell you, but rather a force of nature composed of dualities. When it is first evoked, magic is in fact neutral, but quickly takes on the characteristics of the caster. This is where it got interesting. Magic could become either positively charged—corresponding to order, negatively charged—corresponding to chaos, or could remain neutrally charged, which corresponded to neither side.

Naturally, the first thing that popped into my mind when it came or ‘order’ was the Elements of Harmony. The elements after all, had saved Equestria at least five times, six if you counted the Tartarus fiasco (which no pony mentions for obvious reasons). The elements stood for everything orderly in the world.
Chaos was a bit trickier. While it was true that many a dark mage had risen over the years—not counting the demon lord Tirek and Necromancer supreme Grogar, who were just evil incarnate—I could not really put them in the ‘chaos’ category. Sure, they were all out to cause harm and disorder, but on closer analysis, their reasons were often based around obtaining power or extracting revenge, feelings every pony is capable of. None of them were purely ‘chaotic’ in nature. The only being that really fit the bill of pure chaos was the draconequus Discord. Of course, that presented a problem. Discord was no longer alive, so it was something he couldn’t really validate. Nothing else fit the profile however; Discord had been the very embodiment of chaos.

One aspect the book made very clear was that both Harmony and Discord were crucial to the balance and health of the planet, one bringing about order, while the other brought about chaos. There was more to it, but that was essentially the short version. I could go into the finer details of stagnation and entropy, but that was something to best left for master mages and scientist.

Still, the more I thought about it and analyzed the text, the more curious I became.

Discord, while not the greatest villain to ever walk the face of planet, had still been a great threat to it. Three times he had run rampant over the land, and all three times he was subdued. Two of those times, he was sealed away in stone. The third and final time brought about his demise.

It happened exactly ten years ago. Discord had once again risen, more malicious than he had in the past thanks to the evil bastards that had chosen to make Equestria their playground previous to his return. Discord absorbed the leftovers, and like a mop to a bad spill, spread both chaos and malice everywhere he went. He came very close to turning Equestria into a land of outright depravity.

The princesses once again called on the Elements of Harmony, who had grown hardened by the villains they had defeated up to that point. This time, they were not playing around. The six faced Discord, and with the added aid of the princesses’ magic, ended Discord’s threat once and for all.

As I looked back to my notes, flipping page after page until I got to a section I had written several hours earlier, I started to realize that something was no longer adding up. I felt a very strong sense of unease, as if I had uncovered something no other pony had. As I started to really analyze my notes—which at the time of writing had been merely transcribed information—I began to see a pattern emerge. As I compared my notes and the book’s actually text, I started to put together key phrases and played around with entire paragraphs. It was then that I uncovered a massive inconsistency not only with the information I had written, but the very books I extracted the information from in the first place.

Discord hadn’t just been some spirit of mischief using chaos for his own ends. No, he was THE Lord of Chaos; there was no question about that. His very existence was to stand opposite the Elements of Harmony, a role that I now know is essential to maintaining worldly balance. He might have been a trickster and a prick, but he had been integral to the world’s health. If history said he had been destroyed once and for all, and that chaos was forevermore conquered, then that meant…

Once again, I looked over my notes, this time rearranging pages in a way that would hopefully form some kind of pattern. It wasn’t long before I did the same with the books and scrolls. Suddenly, the pattern came to light, and I took a step back, shocked at what I had uncovered.

The very fact that Discord was destroyed stood against the very nature of balance: if Harmony exists today, then so must chaos. If Discord had truly been destroyed, his chaotic energies would have spread the world over, changing the very nature of all ponies. The book made it clear that should that happen, ponykind would likely face self-destruction. Chaos however, was not present in the land. The world was more peaceful than it had ever been. If Discord was indeed gone, then what became of his chaos?

I clenched my teeth, gut having gone somewhat cold. Thesis or no, I had uncovered something no other pony had, or, if they had, had made sure to hide away. Though I knew I could just drop the matter and go about my life, I had to get to the bottom of it!

And to do that, there was only one pony who knew chaos batter than most others. She had faced it twice.
[center* * *I stood right outside the headmistress’ office. I took a deep breath of air and steeled myself. I still wasn’t sure if what I had uncovered would be viewed with shifty eyes, but if anypony was to give me answers, it was her.

One of the reasons I was nervous was that it wasn’t every day that a student spoke directly to the headmistress. It wasn’t so much that she was frightening, but more to do with her reputation. The headmistress of the school was none other than the Twilight Sparkle, who was of course, the element of Magic and one of the nation’s six greatest heroes. She was promoted to headmistress when the last headmaster retired.

Knowing well that the more I delayed, the more I would lose my nerve, I knocked on the door with a somewhat shaky hoof. There seemed to be no reply.
“Dammit, why did you have to come in such short notice? Of course she’s not going to answer,” I thought to myself. It made sense. Why should I bother the headmistress with such a question?
“Why shouldn’t you? If you have indeed uncovered something hidden, the world deserves to kn—” I started, but was cut short when lavender magic enveloped the double doors before they swung open. With another deep breath, I walked in and right up to Miss Sparkle’s desk.
“Ah, Mr. Arcanum, what a pleasant surprise,” she said with a sincerely pleasant voice. “Have a seat,” Miss Sparkle motioned with a sincere smile.
“How do you know who I am?” I asked, not quite thinking my words over. Twilight in turn, smiled. “Your parents and I graduated in the same class.”
“So, you knew my father?”
“Yes,” Miss Sparkle replied. “Nox was quite the brilliant wizard a good friend.”
“Indeed,” I said, losing some of my unease.

I levitated my saddlebags and placed them on one of the armchairs near me. I then turned my attention to Miss Sparkle, but not before getting a good look at her office, the walls of which were packed to the brim with knickknacks. I swear, there was everything on those walls, from parchments and quills, to books on all possible topics, to trophies and certifications. My gaze drifted around till my eyesight locked on a display case right behind Miss Sparkle. Inside, five distinct necklaces shimmered. I instantly recognized them as the real life elements of Harmony, each bearing its bearer’s cutie mark. For a moment, I’m struck with awe by their presence. Even when inactive, the power of the elements is massive. He could feel arcane powers flowing through his veins. However, the next thing that struck me was that there were only five on display. “Last I checked, there were six of them…”

I shook my awe away and focused on the task at hoof. “Miss Sparkle,” I started, “first off, I would like to say what an honor it is to meet you in person. Secondly, I would like to thank you for allowing me this small meeting with such short notice.”
“No problem Mr. Arcanum,” she said, crossing her hooves on top of her desk. “Now then, how may I be of assistance?”
“Yes,” I replied. I cleared my throat and reached for my saddlebags. “You see,” I started, “while preparing my thesis, I came upon a matter that I feel has not been properly investigated by anyone in the school.” Using my magic, I reached for my notebook. “It has to do with the nature of order and chaos.” I placed the notepad on Twilight’s desk and flipped it open on a heavily annotated page, which I had literally rewritten using portions of my other notes. “As you of all ponies would know,” I started, slight chuckle escaping my lips, “Discord was one of the nastiest things to ever terrorize Equestria.” I looked looked up at the five elements of harmony, “and of course, when you and your friends, uh,” I gave a slightly nervous cough, “well… once and for all vanquished Discord with the help of the princesses, you uh,” I shrank back a bit, thinking over my coming words carefully. “Well, you all… sort of…” I sighed, telling my words flow without much thought. “You all broke the balance of nature.”

I braced myself for whatever was to come. I mean, the audacity; to blame a national hero of doing something grievously wrong! Who does that?

“Yes, I am aware of that Mr. Arcanum.” Twilight replied to my accusation in a tone that was neither annoyed nor calm, but almost deadpan. “You can rest assured that that matter was handled.” Twilight said with what almost sounded like bitterness.

I stood there, somewhat stunned. Twilight Sparkle; the Twilight Sparkle, had just admitted to having been aware of performing an act that could have potentially doomed the world.

I… I almost didn’t believe it.

“Well, yes…” I started, tone still full of uncertainty, “but that’s just it! Chaos was contained, yet, none of the books give a reasonable explanation as to how that came about.”
“What is there to explain?” Miss Sparkle said, tone now showing some slight annoyance. “Discord was vanquished, and peace was restored to the land. Everypony has lived happily since.”
“But—” I said at first, but cut myself off before I said anything potentially stupid. I instead opted to close my eyes and take another deep breath of air to steel himself for what I was about to say. “Miss Sparkle, that’s just it! I believe I’ve uncovered an inconsistency with that. Discord’s demise should have not taken place. Had he really perished, the chaotic powers he wielded would have spread to the land unchecked. According to what is written in the history books and manuals of magic, there was no such outcome. Yet, I know that isn’t true. It can’t be true.”
Twilight’s eyes grew war as she looked at I with diligence. “What are you getting at, Mr. Arcanum?”
“Miss Sparkle,” I started, “what I’m getting at is that Chaos was somehow contained. According to my research, that can only mean that another Chaos Lord exist somewhere out there, possibly…” I gulped, looking up at the missing element of harmony. My sudden epiphany must have shown in my face, because Twilight’s expression suddenly hardened. I took a step back, slowly shaking my head. “How… how is that—that even—”
“MR. ARCANUM!” Twilight suddenly bellowed, face stern and steely. She looked me over, almost as if deciding what to do with me. Finally, she let out a long sigh, her face losing its sternness, and instead dropping into a pained frown. “We… don’t like to talk about that day Arcanum,” she said, her tone so soft and… casual, that she no longer referred to me as mister, but just by my first name.
“Something… something happened to one of you, didn’t it?” I asked, not really sure if I should have even asked that in the first place.

At first, Miss Sparkle said nothing. She looked me over with a look that mixed in various emotions: anger, regret, surprise, and strangely enough, happiness. “Does anypony else know what you are telling me right now?” she suddenly asked me. I thought about it more deeply before shaking my head. In return, Twilight game him a soft smile. She walked away from her desk and up to a bookcase, where she levitated a blank tome and placed it on her desk, open. I gazed at its contents and found a hastily drawn map.

“You are right Mr. Arcanum,” Twilight suddenly started, looking at the case containing five elements of harmony, “chaos was indeed contained and there is indeed a new chaos Lord. However, the truth of the matter is not as you would think it.” She suddenly out a somewhat bitter chuckle, “Life, rarely is that simple.” She levitated my notebook up to her and scanned it over, reading my notes with speeds I could never hope to match. She smiled quite broadly. “You really are Nox’s son.” She closed the notebook and looked me in the eye. “Seems like fate has chosen you for a special task. No one else could have put two and two together as quickly as you did, and even then, they would have never figured out the true implications as you have.” She smiled. “I know about fate Arcanum; I was once the Element of Magic, and the very spark that brought the other five together. It was a destiny given to me before I was even born. Now,” she pointed a hoof at me, “you’ve uncovered your own fate.”
“I don’t understand…”
“Here,” Twilight said, walking behind her desk and pointing to the map on the tome. “This book contains all my years of notes and research. Dash and I spent five years looking for her, and we never found her. She didn’t want to be found. Still, she left clues, clues that would one day point the right individual to her, so the truth could finally be known.” Twilight smiled as she looked at me. “Arcanum, your fate beckons.”
“My fate?” I asked, feeling more confused than I should. Twilight nodded, levitating the book towards me. “I will provide you with the necessary supplies and funds for your trip. All I ask in return is that you do me one favor.”
“And what would that favor be?” I asked, somewhat dreading my words.

* * *

“That you find her. Find her, and you bring her back home.”

Twilight’s words still rang in my ears like a small pack of angry bees. It had been almost six days since Miss Sparkle had said those words and had sent me out on this journey in search of the real truth.

My trip had led me out of Canterlot and into Ponyville, where I met a few odd characters and gathered up a few more supplies. Then, the trip led me right into the Everfree forest, the last place on Equestria where chaos ran unchecked. It was here that the maps became incoherent, yet it was the only place in the world where chaos could even thrive unchecked. Despite there being no one single road that led to the destination, I knew well it was the right path. Still, that meant I was on my own.

“She was once kind and caring, but that changed when she become chaos. There is no telling what you’ll find today, or if you’ll even find her at all.”

The more I really thought about those words, the more I started to believe that the only thing ‘fate’ had picked me for was to fail. Here I was, in the middle of the most dangerous stretch of land in all of Equestria, seeking out an entity that as far as I knew, didn’t want to be found.

“But what can you tell me about this new bearer of chaos? Who is she?” I asked.
“She was one of us once, the kindest and most understanding. I think it was because of this that she chose to bear all chaos so that none of us would.”

Those words still haunted me. Why would anypony choose such a fate willingly?

“But why would she choose that fate?” I asked, unable to comprehend the motive behind such a horrible decision.
“She chose her destiny Arcanum. We all have to choose our destinies at some point. What we do with our lives is wholly on us.”
“Destiny?”
“Yes. Fate and destiny are two very different things. Destiny we can influence; fate comes to us when we least expect it. How or why is something we may ask, but in the end, we must learn to accept fate.”

Miss Twilight’s words still resonated with me. The more I thought about it, the more I realized her words meant more than just my current path. She was referring to my life as a whole. I wasn’t living my own dream, but the one my father wanted of me to live. It was because of him that I learned magic, that I became a wizard and gained my cutie mark. Deep down however, I was dead; a sleep-walker who only followed and never led.

I swore I would follow my own path soon as I uncovered the real truth.

“But how will I know I’ve found her?” I asked Miss Sparkle.
“You will know, trust me on that.”

Those last words got to me. As I thought them more closely, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was running an errand for a pony—hero or not—who just wanted to save herself some hassle? Was I being played? Being made a fool off?

Part of me though that idea was preposterous, but then again, it wasn’t entirely implausible.

As I walked through the dark forest, I could feel countless eyes looking me over. I had no idea what they wanted, but they felt stoic and guardian-like. The deeper I moved into the woods, the darker and more menacing the surroundings became. As I looked closer at the dark foliage, I noticed how it was moving away on its own, as if leading the way to some unknown end. Miss Sparkle’s words came back to me, and I gulped. Realizing I had no other choice in the matter, I followed the path made before me.

What I gazed upon next would have made any sane pony turn tail and run: dozens of creatures, each more dangerous than the last, stood in a small groove in the middle of the Everfree forest. All around was chaotic imagery, almost as if I had somehow walked into an alternate dimension. I took a step back, and I suddenly found myself bumping into a dense hedge. The road I had taken to get to this place was sealed off, and I was trapped with every manner of Manticore and Hydra and Timberwolf and Ent and just about every deadly creature the forest could breed.

I gulped, already counting the ways I would be torn limb from limb. I closed my eyes and resided myself to the painful end that was sure to follow…

…Except, the end never seemed to come. A full minute passed, and I was still standing, completely unharmed. Despite the fear I felt, I opened my eyes to find that the creatures stood there, looking at me as if I was some kind of guest of honor. The smarter beings even seemed to be bowing.

As I looked around with more care, I noticed a structure standing in the middle of what I could only describe as a bottomless pit that led straight into a sky-like void. Curiosity got the best of me, and I walked up to this impossible location, stopping short of a few inches from the void. Reaching into my saddlebag, I brought out a small empty can of rations, which I then dropped into the void. I watched as it fell into a cloud before it vanished from sight. Seconds later, I felt something metallic hit me in the head. I rubbed the spot and looked down at my hooves. It was the same can I had dropped into the void just a few seconds earlier. At least the void led back to this place, which meant no fall for eternity.

I walked away from the void, looking at the shack-like building. It seemed to have been made of a mix of wood, rock, and vines, all forming a rather nice looking home that a druid would have been quite proud to call home. I took a step towards it, and a path of floating rocks rose to lead me towards the door. I took a deep breath and walked up the rocks, each one dropping soon as my body was far away enough. It only took me a few seconds to reach the entrance, which now looked a bit larger than it had seemed from a distance. Before I could resolve to knock, the door swung open, and I was greeted by a rather odd sight: a bunny sporting a tuxedo and bowtie. He seemed rather surprised to see me, but motioned for me to come in nonetheless.

I only had to walk a few more steps before I came face to face with the one being I was looking for, the draconequus Lord of Chaos, Discord. However, I was quickly shocked when I realized just who really the draconequus really was.

“I’ve been keeping track of your movements through my forest,” Discord started, her tone somewhat harsh, yet seemingly forced. “I am, um…” she suddenly said, her tone completely changing to one far softer than before. “I guess I’m impressed, Arcanum.” Discord smiled quite broadly, her tone returning to the same booming one from earlier. “That’s right, I know who you are, and I know why you came looking for me—ACHOO!” Discord sneezed in an utterly adorable tone. I couldn’t help but say “bless you.”
“Thank you so much!” Discord said with a cheery tone. She seemed to suddenly remember who she was however, and quickly reverted back to her grim and deep tone “While I do thank you, know that you are still in one piece because I have allowed it!” She looked at me, then at her bunny servant, who only shook his head in what I could assume was disapproval. Instantly, Discord’s flair faded away, leaving the draconequus somewhat dejecting looking. “Well, I uh… while I let you find me, you still had to traverse the dark and dangerous woods to get to me. I know well you came here seeking answers, and answers you will get. You know, if you still want them… If not, I… I guess you can leave.”
“No, I think I’ll stay for a while.” I said to Discord, who grew a bit excited at the prospect. “Oh good! A visitor! I’ll get the te—” she seemed to cut herself off as she looked at me with a look of slight confusion. She then let out a slight cough and said “I mean, yes mortal, you are now my prisoner! I shall make tea—“
“Miss Fluttershy,” I said, suddenly cutting her words off, “May I ask as to why you are acting like the old Discord?”

Fluttershy, now Discord by all accounts, froze a bit at my words. She looked at me and then sighed; taking a seat on a couth that seemed to be made of clouds. “It’s because I am now Discord.” She replied. “Ever since I took on this power, this responsibly, I’ve been torn between being myself, and being what the world wants me to be. I don’t want to be the monster everypony hates, but I can’t go back to being plain Fluttershy.”
Her words struck a chord in me. IN a way, I could relate to her plight. Just like me, Fluttershy was more or less thrust into something that she may have believed necessary, but never really wanted. Now, she was paying the price of being torn between her old self.

I took a deep breath of air, and I found myself reciting Miss Sparkle’s exact words towards me.

“Fate and destiny are two very different things. Destiny we can influence; fate comes to us when we least expect it. How or why is something we may ask, but in the end, we must learn to accept fate.” I looked at Fluttershy in the eyes and smiled. “While I have no right in asking this question, what is your destiny? Is it to stay trapped in this shack for all of eternity? Or is it to take your place as one of the pillars of balance in this world?

Fate, destiny, choice: all words that had at one point held no meaning. Now, I was dictating the very embodiment of chaos on what to do. Part of me though the idea positively crazy, but after what I’d been through, I was willing to accept anything.

My words must have had some effect, because Fluttershy rose to her feet and clutched her claws into tight fist, determination growing in her face. “You are right Mr. Arcanum!” she said in a giddy tone, “I am who I am. Fate may have given me this path, but I now know what my destiny really is.” She looked at me with a warm look. “And I think you know what yours is as well.”

I nodded. I needed to further words, no further questions answered. I had everything I could ever want now, and then some.

* * *

I was greeted back at the school by Miss Twilight and the other five elements of Harmony, and company. I recognized every single one of them, as I had read of them in countless books. Pinkie Pie was ever the cheery one, Applejack, every the honest and headstrong mare, Dash, the bold and daring, Rarity, generous and fashionable, and of course, Miss Twilight, who represented magic and will. Walking next to me was Fluttershy, now chaos incarnate, but still the same kindness and compassion that had earned her a place among the other elements. The group rushed Fluttershy, who had tears streaming down her eyes. They all embraced as their old friendship was rekindled

I watched the six elements hug for a few seconds before I reached for my thesis, which sat nice and tight in my saddlebags. I looked it over for a few seconds, the events of the last few days playing before my eyes.

Finally, I smiled, and then I started laughing. I took the thesis and tore it to bits. This journey had taught me something important: follow your own path.

I gave the group one last glance before I headed for the main offices of the school. I had a major to change.

Dr Apple and Missus Hide

"Hsst! Applejack."

I looked around, but there weren't nopony but the settin' sun and I wasn't goin' to burn the last light chasin' some crazy voice. I knew how long days of applebuckin' made me a little stir crazy.

A snake dropped down from the branch above me. "Right here, Applejack."

I ain't scared of snakes. I didn't jump 'cause I was scared, I jus' wanted to adjust my buckin' stance. But I wasn't sacred.

Ok, fine. I might've been a little surprised. Fer Pete's sake, it was a talking snake. How was I s'posed to react?

"Good gravy, don't just drop down on a pony like that." I wasn't going to let some rude feller like that interrupt good applebuckin'.

"I didn't mean to sssscare you," he hissed into my ear. "I came to make you a deal." He pulled an apple off the tree and offered it to me.

"Put the apple in the bucket there." I trotted over to the next few trees. "Ya' might not be able to buck like me, but if you can pick the apples off a few trees, I'd mighty 'preciate it. Heck, I'll haul the apples to the barn for ya."

"I'm not here to pick applesss." He rolled his eyes at me, letting the apple fall from his grasp. "I'm here to proposssse a busssinesss transssaction, ssso to ssspeak."

I galloped over quick as I could, but I was too late. The apple fell on the ground and bounced. "Now, see here. Why'd ya have to drop the poor apple like that. I bet it's bruised, if not completely ruined. I oughta buck ya one for that." I picked up the apple, but jus' as I suspected, it were beyond help. The bottom crushed and the peel split, only one thing could be done. It would have to be—I crossed myself—sauced.

"Applejack, applesss come and go, but thisss offer—"

I interrupted. By yankin' him out of the tree. "Speaking of bizz-i-nizz tranzz-ack-shunzz," I mocked, "you owe me two bits for the apple. And cut that annoyin' hissin' out."

"Let'sss be reasss—"

I raised my hoof. "If yer hissin', I'm kickin'."

"Fine. Stupid horse." He slithered away angrily. Yes, angrily. Kinda deliberate, quick slitherin'. I know it's weird, but I'd never seen a talkin' snake before, much less made one angry. And then the darn thing popped.

I'll admit, this time I was scared. Ain't natural for somethin' to disappear in a cloud of smoke like that. And in its place was some freaky red horned thing. Not too big, but real tall. It stood on its hind legs and had things on the end of its hooves, kinda like Spike, but scary and not funny. And missin' all its hair 'cept for a few patches on its head, face, and under its forelegs. Definitely weren't no pony.

The thing spoke. "Now, Applejack, let's negotiate."

"I don't s'pose I could get the snake back."

"No." It leaned in real close an' my nose tol' me that it ain't brushed his teeth in a long time. "You have an entire apple orchard to harvest, do you not?"

"Course. That's what I was doin' afore you interrupted." Smell or no smell, I wasn't gonna let this thing intimidate me. I leaned in jus' as close and snorted.

He stepped back and rolled his eyes. "Oh dear, you got pony on me," he droned. "How droll."

He leaned in again. "Now, listen here, pony," he spat. Both his words and his spit. Don't know what that feller ate, but his spit kinda burned. I woulda recommended a good tooth-brushin' but I was a mite busy with my I ain't budgin' stare. Good thin' I'm stubborn.

He turned away and mused, like city ponies do when they're lookin' down at somepony. "I was going to do you a favour, and save you all the hard work of applebucking. All you would have to do is sign over your measly soul and all the work would be done—"

"No deal. I ain't signin' anythin' that tries to cut corners on buckin' apples." I tried to make myself look huffy and started walkin' away.

"If you'll let me finish—"

"No. I ain't signin'."

"I was saying—"

"No."

"Let me—"

"No!"

"NOPONY WALKS AWAY FROM THE DEVIL!" His scream set the nearby trees on fire. He might've been just a tiny bit angry. "Either you sign, or I'll make sure you never finish harvesting this orchard."

"No deal. My granny always warned me against makin' deals with the devil." I got as close as I could, and tried to look terrifyin'. "And I'm billin' you for the damage to my trees."

"You've made your choice," he threatened. "Now, you are cursed."

"Cursed? I'll curse you, ya—"

He popped and disappeared in a cloud of smoke again. Somepony needs to buck some manners int' him. Didn't even let me finish my sentence. And knocked me off my hooves, int' a patch of flowers no less.

'Course, it was dark, now. The last hour I said I wouldn't burn, burnt. Least the trees didn't look burnt.

Blech. Dealin' with pushy folks like that always left a bad taste in my mouth. This time literally. I took a bite of the flower I landed on. Not much better, jus' my luck.

Well, no sense wallowin' in a wasted afternoon. Bes' to jus' get the apples back to the farm and ferget all about it.

I was plum tired after a long day like that. Even more tuckered than normal. I could barely lift the full buckets, say nothin' 'bout carryin' them all the way back to the barn. I had t' jigger with the wagon so I was draggin' the buckets along. I'm glad nopony was out there to see me. I'da been redder than— well, an apple.

And draggin' wasn't much easier than carryin'. I could go, but not real quick, and I had t' stop 'cause the buckets kept knockin' over. Make matters worse, I couldn't get the idea of that daggum curse outta my head. Made me wanna buck some pony.

But I wasn't 'bout to give up. An Apple never gives up and Applejack wasn't about to be the first. So I pulled and I pulled. I think I was about halfway back when my mind starts muckin' around, makin' me think I'm seein' things.

I saw a squirrel. Middle of the night and there's a squirrel in the middle of my orchard. And not just any squirrel, but a squirrel that I've seen around before. That varmint's always trying to steal my apples. So I was pullin' harder trying to get over to it, and—I'm not makin' this up—the bugger walked up and hugged me.

Now, I knew I was past stir crazy and well int' one of Pinkie's big mixers.

I hadta say somethin'. Yell a bit and get the little bugger to leave. But, it was still huggin' me, so I tried to be a little polite. I wasn't gonna kick the little feller. Yet.

"Um, excuse me, would you possibly mind, if its not too much trouble, maybe leaving the farm sometime soon?" Well, plant me face-first and call me a tree, that weren't what I wanted to say.

Ok, I jus' got a little tired and my brain and mouth weren't buckin' the same tree. If I rehearsed in my head, it would come out fine. Now, 'Scram, you little varmint, and don't come back.' I cleared my throat.

"That's enough, little squirrel. Please, I would like it very much if you would maybe consider going away from the farm."

Dagnabbit, I didn't want to say that. That didn't even sound like my voice. That sounded like— Fluttershy.

I looked over my shoulder. Even though I couldn't see my cutie mark or make out the colour of my flank, I could tell I wasn't an earth pony anymore. As if on cue, one of my wings poofed out and hit me straight in the nose.

And the squirrel was still hugging me.

"Now, you listen here, mister. It is well past your bedtime and you shouldn't be trespassing on somepony's orchard like this. If I catch you here again, I'll put you in timeout and give you a lecture you won't forget. Do you understand me?" That was much more elegant than the 'I'll kill you, you little bugger!' that I had planned. Although, my eyes felt like they were 'bout t' bugger off with the varmint for a bit there.

Pest problem taken care of. I needed to get the apples to the barn and rest, so my brain could stop milkin' the chickens.

'Course, my wing was still in th' way. I couldn't even tell which muscle to use to get it back down. Daggum pegasi and their crazy extra body parts. I had to use my hooves. Did I mention I was really glad nopony else was around? Well, I was.

I finally managed to get the apples home and sat back on a hay pile for a quick rest.

I opened my eyes a moment later and there was Big Mac opening the barn door, sun streamin' in.

"You sleep here all night, AJ?"

"Guess so," I mumbled. "I think I overworked myself. Bit off more than I could chew."

"That's for sure." He was giving me the look he used when I was a filly and would come home hurt. As a grown pony, I didn't like that look. "You sure you're ok?"

"I'm jus' fine now that it's over." I stood up nice and straight, but he didn't stop his worried look, like he normally does when I do that.

"AJ, not to burst your bubble, but where's your hat?"

I shoulda jus' lied. Then Big Mac would've let me go back in the orchard and find my hat. Now what was I s'posed to do. Stupid crazy dreams. I kicked my way down the path to Ponyville, tryin' to think of some loophole that would get me back on my farm.

"Hey, Applejack!" Rainbow Dash flew down and landed next to me. "Whoa, what's got you so blue?"

I rolled my eyes. "Me blue? Look at yer own feathers and tell me who's blue."

"Oh come on, AJ, you know what I mean." Rainbow Dash put a hoof on my shoulder. "Now, what's wrong? And don't say 'Nothing.'"

I sighed. Well, Rainbow Dash, I got so overworked yesterday that I hallucinated the devil puttin' a curse on me and turnin' me int' Fluttershy, and then tried to push through it and ended up passin' out in the barn. If that weren't enough, I think the devil thing stole my hat. Well, one o' those ain't too crazy. "I lost my hat."

"Oh, don't worry about that. Rarity can make you a new one."

I shot her a glare. "Rainbow, how many times have you ever seen me without my hat?" I got up real close. "An' how many times have you ever seen me wearin' Rarity's prissy clothes? I don't want one of Rarity's fru-fru hats." I got real quiet. "I just want my hat back."

Rainbow got real quiet too.

"I'm sorry, Rainbow," I said. "I jus' had a tough day yesterday. I didn't mean to drag ya int' my pile of mud."

"No problem." She perked back up right quick. "Tell you what. I'll help you look for your hat. We'll find it in no time."

"Thanks, Rainbow. I 'ppreciate you helpin'. But Big Mac won't let me go back in the orchard today." I huffed at the thought.

"Why not?"

"He said, I was overworked and needed a break."

Rainbow laughed. "Ha, and when that didn't work?"

I rolled my eyes at her, again. "Said I wasn't allowed in fer the sake of the trees. Said I break trees when I get mad."

Rainbow took a step back. "Seriously?"

"It happened like twice. Ain't my fault the trees were dyin'."

"That's kind of awesome. And terrifying." Rainbow started flappin' her wings. "Anyway, he's right you know. You do look pretty tired."

"I'll show you how tired I am," I snapped back. I lunged and got a hoofful of— thin air. Stupid pegasi and their extra flyin' body parts.

"Seriously, AJ," she taunted, "take a nap."

"Well, maybe I will." Aw shoot, if that's the best comeback I had, maybe I did need a nap. 'sides, I'd nothin' else I could do today. Might as well rest up so I could work all night.

It was the snake again.

"Greetings, Applejack."

I sneered at the darn thing. "Not you again. I tol' you already, I ain't signin' nothin'. I ain't makin' a deal."

"Oh, come now. I'm not here for that." He slithered close. "I'm just here to remind you that you'll never harvest the orchard without me, and to make sure your nap isn't restful."

With that, I snapped awake. 'Course, the snake's threat got me all worked up. So much for gettin' some rest. But I had bigger pigs to wrassle than jus' a wasted nap. My wings were back.

An' of course, fully extended so I couldn't put 'em where they should be. I couldn't for the life of me figure out how them pegasi work those buggers.

After a bit o' struggle, I finally put those fellers back in their place. But jus' my luck, I ran int' the one pony I didn't wanna see.

"Oh goodness, Fluttershy. I have so much to tell you. Shall we soiree at the spa?"

I got nothin' against Rarity, just me and her are— different. Ain't nothin' wrong with different, but I gotta get myself ready tolerate being around her. And it wasn't a good day fer toleratin'.

I knew I had to get outta this. If'n I remembered correctly, I figured I'd end up speakin' in Fluttershy, so I had to be real careful 'bout what I said to get it to come out right. 'No, Rarity. I really can't do it right now.' "Oh, goodness. I really shouldn't." Oh ponyfeathers, why couldn't Fluttershy have a spine?

"Nonsense. You always have time for a little pampering." Then she picked me up and carried me int' the spa. If I had any kind of buckin' muscles, I wouldn't been outta there like a greased pig. I couldn't even get my useless wings to knock her away.

"Goodness, Fluttershy, you look so blue. Whatever is going on?"

'I lost my hat.' No, that wouldn't have worked. Fluttershy didn't wear hats. I knew I was gonna regret this. "I guess I'm just tired."

"Well, it's a good thing I got here. The spa treatment will re-energise you again in no time." And with that, she tossed me in the mud.

'Gee, thanks. Gettin' all covered in mud is just what I need.' "Oh thank you, Rarity. This is just perfect."

Well, I certainly dug up a mad badger. Direct statements didn't work. Sarcasm didn't work. I shuddered to think how poor Fluttershy managed to communicate ate all.

But now, I had to listen to Rarity drone on an' on about nothin'. Goodness, that pony brought in drama like a hog does flies. At least all I had to do was nod and only listen every once in a while. I figured she'd go on about fashion for a while.

"—And I offered to make her a new hat, one that was not so dusty and old, bring her up to date with the fashion trends, but Rainbow—"

Yep, still on fashion. Rarity sure could talk a pony's ear off. If somepony tries to talk about something practical or interestin' like the apple harvest, she gets her mane all tangled in protest. Shucks, she threw me in a mud puddle. She'd bite like a chigger if I threw her in a puddle. Her face would look real funny though. Even funnier than her expectant raised eyebrow with the cucumbers looked. Wait, expectant? Aw shoot, she was waiting for me to say somethin'.

"Um. Yes."

Rarity sqealed with delight. I picked the wrong thing t' say. "Oh, you must tell me everything. Big Mac is such a handsome stallion. You must feel like the luckiest mare alive."

Great, she asked about the date with Big Mac. I wasn't having this conversation. I ain't ever talkin' about my brother like that. 'No, I ain't sayin' nothin'.' "Oh goodness, I— um... eep." Well, at least the embarrassment came out right.

"Oh come on. You don't have to be embarrassed. I promise I won't tell anypony. Please tell me. Please?"

Her pleading eyes didn't work with cucumbers on them. 'No way.' "Umm... I— Oh..." Heaven's sake, I'm glad I didn't talk all wishy-washy like that.

"Oh fine. You're no fun. But be aware, the details will come out."

'Bite me, cucumber face.' "OK." Nuts, wasted a perfectly good insult. I'd have to remember that one.

The rest of the evening went about as well as it could. Rarity blabbered on an' on and I sat in the mud. After the whole fiasco, I wasn't "re-energised." I jus' wanted to not be awake anymore. So I headed home.

Back home, I tried to keep quiet. I didn't want to explain why Fluttershy was sleepin' in my bed. Jus' my luck, Big Mac was still awake. Sounded like he was pacin' and mumblin' something to himself, workin' out some problem or somethin' like that.

"Stupid. Stupid. I shoulda just gone for it," he said, shakin' his head back and forth.

I really wished I could work those hay forsaken wings and jus' float on by. Least Fluttershy weighed less'n I did an' wouldn't make as much noise.

I crept past as Big Mac continued his mutterin'. I felt bad leavin' my brother all depressed like that, but tryin' to help would jus' make things— complicated.

"I wish I had one chance to make things right. One chance to fix things."

Poor Big Mac was so focused on whatever, he didn't even notice as I tiptoed by. For the first time that day, I had little smile on my face.

—THUD—

Those blasted, peach-pickin', mud-lickin', saddle-slickin' wings.

And of course, Big Mac turned to look at the noise. "Fluttershy?" He quickly came over.

"I— um." I jus' knew this weren't goin' well.

"No, don't say nothin'. I wished for this chance and I'm not going to let it slip though my hooves." He hugged me and held me close, breath hot on my face.

Consarnit, I really was cursed.

"I should have—"

Ok, weak legs, move.

"—done this sooner."

Dagnabbit. Alright, wings, I said some nasty stuff about you, but please work.

He closed his eyes and leaned in—

"No! Stop! I'm your sister!"

"What the hay, Fluttershy." Well, at least, he stopped. I started breathin' again. I wished a bit o' that Fluttershy gentleness that was so annoyin' earlier had cropped up, but at least he stopped.

"Don't make up somethin' like that! If you don't like me, just say so." Big Mac stomped off and slammed the door shut.

Great, I broke my big brother. 'Course, I wanted to try and help, explain everythin' and make him feel better, but knowin' my luck, that woulda just made things— complicated. Well, more complicated.

Stupid wings.

In the mornin', I was me again. Wings gone. Big Mac gone, left early. He never wants to talk when things happen. Not like I woulda been happy 'bout talkin' either. But I thought I should try t' make the effort. Since, it were kinda my fault.

Not like I didn't have enough problems already. An entire orchard left to buck. Still tuckered as Ol' Bessie in springtime. And the curse thing. That daggum curse thing.

Still, ain't no Apple ever given up, and I'd eat my hoof afore I was the first. B'sides, nothin' could make a pony forget their trouble like a good day of applebuckin'.

I'd bucked a few trees and started gettin' my buckin' rhythm back, when in flew an interruption.

"Hey, Applejack!" Rainbow Dash landed right down next to me and started whisperin'. "I need your help with something."

"Rainbow, I jus' started buckin'. Can't it wait?"

She shook her head. "I think somepony has been impersonating Fluttershy."

I really hoped the sun had jus' gotten brighter on my face and that it weren't as obvious as it felt. "Impersonate Fluttershy? Why the devil would anypony wanna do that?"

"I dunno. But listen, there was a squirrel that was acting like she'd yelled at it, when she hadn't, and, get this, Rarity spent all night at the spa with her, and she didn't remember at all this morning."

Great, both my fault. As Granny Smith always said, "Y'all made the mess, y'all better clean it up." Couldn't a pony applebuck in peace for one day?

"Alright, Rainbow, whatdya need me t' do?"

"I want you to stake out Fluttershy's place. If she leaves, follow her. I'll search for clues and meet up with you at lunch."

"Got it."

Keepin' watch wasn't too bad. All I had to do was stare at the house. Course, all I had to do was stare at the house, so I was gettin' a little bored, but bored was better than the last couple days. B'sides, the weather was sunny and relaxin'. I was ok with bored.

"Happy to sssee me, Applejack."

Aw shucks, so much for nice an' bored. "Go 'way, devil. You've been nothin' but trouble."

"I'm sssorry," he hissed. "Wouldn't it be nissse if it all disssappeared?"

"No more curse? And no more hissing?"

He slithered up next to me. "No more curssse. All you have to do isss sssign thisss." In popped a parchment and ink. I swear, I'd never get used to that appears-in-a-cloud-of-smoke magicky thing. Gave me ponybumps.

I knew what Granny said. I knew makin' the deal were a bad idea. But, consarnit, I was tired. It weren't natural to be carryin' a curse like this. I dipped my hoof in the ink. It didn't burn quite like I expected.

"Hey AJ, wake up!"

"Huh?" Rainbow tousled my mane again.

"Falling asleep on the job?" she teased. "Quality help is so hard to find."

"A mite sorry, Rainbow. Won't let it happen again." I straightened up and got my eyes back on the house.

"No time for that. We're losing daylight." She was right. The sun peeked jus' above the horizon.

Rainbow winked and flew off. "Follow me," she yelled back.

"Where we goin'?"

"I found a lead. At Sweet Apple Acres."

Ponyfeathers, I was doomed. Maybe I could distract her or keep her from followin' it or somethin'. "Uh, what kind of lead, Rainbow?"

She didn't respond. She must have gotten ahead. I galloped a mite quicker. Lettin' Rainbow have a lot of time with that lead couldn't go well.

"Rainbow, where'd ya get to?" I said, roundin' the corner.

"SURPRISE!" My friends leaped out of the bushes and confetti rained down. Behind 'em, Sweet Apple Acres was picked clean.

"B-But I didn't sign anythin'."

"Rainbow Dash told us how you lost your hat and that made you all blue, so we threw you a party to make you orange again!"

"Ahem," Rarity coughed. "What Pinkie means, is when we heard you lost your hat, we wanted to do something to cheer you up."

Twilight continued. "And we know how hard you work during harvest time, so we all got together and harvested Sweet Apple Acres for you."

Rainbow beamed. "Spying on Fluttershy was all part of my brilliant plan to get you away." She pantomimed cheerin'. "Saved by Rainbow Dash yet again."

"Well, shucks, girls, this is the best surprise I've ever gotten. Thank ya'll so much. I'm plum speechless." They enveloped me in a big hug and even the curse couldn't stop me from smilin'.

"Ooh, ooh, can I give her the biggest special surprise?" Pinkie asked.

"Let's do it together." They all huddled around the confetti cannon and did their countdown.

"Surprise!"

"Again!" piped in Pinkie.

"My hat!" I immediately put it on and everythin' felt right again. "I've been lookin' all over fer this. Where in tarnation did it get to?"

"You're not going to believe this," Twilight began, grinnin' with pride. "We found it tangled in a patch of poison joke in the northwest orchard. Don't worry, we cleaned it, so it won't infect you."

"Poison joke?" I mumbled, turnin' it over and over in my head. "Could that cause one pony to turn int' another pony?"

"Maybe, would it be funny?"

No, I thought very adamantly. "Well, maybe. I gotta confess somethin' an' I know this is gonna sound crazy, but its the truth."

They all leaned in close. "What is it?"

"These last few nights—" I could feel my face flushin'. "—I've been turning into Fluttershy at night."

"I knew there was an impostor!" Rainbow yelled. "It was you the whole time!"

"Not right now, Rainbow," shushed Rarity.

"Do y'all think that could have been caused by the poison joke."

"Well, there's only one way to find out."

We lay back on the grass and watched as the sun fell away int' the trees. Poison joke or no poison joke, watchin' a sunset with friends was one doozy of a way to spend an evenin'.

Thirty minutes later

"Uh, AJ? Is something supposed to happen?"

Poison joke makin' a liar outta me. "Consarnit, this ain't funny."

—POOF—

"Oh, my." There we were, two Fluttershy's standin' right next to each other. Perfect twins. 'Cept I had my hat, so I was better.

"Come on, Applejack, Fluttershy, whoever you are, let's get you that bath."

"Is Applejack back yet?" Pinkie asked. "Two Fluttershys is too many Fluttershys."

"And not enough Applejacks," quipped Fluttershy.

I looked over my body. Familiar buckin' legs. No useless wings. Apples for a cutie mark. "Girls, I'm back."

"Oh, good, I was worried I would be late for my date with Big Mac."

"You absolutely must tell me how that goes darling."

"Have fun." We all waved goodbye as Fluttershy made her way back to Ponyville.

"About that," I whispered, "would one of y'all mind comin' with me. I need to talk to Big Mac about this and it might be good to have, ya know, witnesses."

"Certainly, but what happened?" My four remaining friends gathered close around me.

"You have to promise not to tell anypony, especially Fluttershy..."

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The preliminary voting round has narrowed down the list of finals to nine stories:

– Prism
– Apple Slices
– Discord's Deli of Chaos
– I Dream In Notes
– Death Doesn't Like Fiddles...
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– Dr Apple and Missus Hide
– Appletheosis
– The Change You Wish to See

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