Everything is Certainly Fine, or "Magical Mystery Cure in three parts"by Kaj-NrigChaptersPart 1, Chapter 1: Morning in PonyvillePart 1, Chapter 3: DawnPart 1, Chapter 4: What My Cutie Mark Is Telling MePart 1, Chapter 5: The DreamingPart 1, Chapter 2: And It is Old, and Powerful, and WildPart 1, Chapter 1: Morning in PonyvilleEverything is Certainly Fine or Magical Mystery Cure, in three parts -_-_-_- Part 1 Chapter 1 – Morning in Ponyville -_-_-_- Morning in Ponyville is wonderful, Twilight thinks. Today feels like a good day, like everything's shimmering and shining. She slings on her saddle pack and makes for the door, humming a cheery little tune to herself as she greets the sunny, cheerful world. She's not sure exactly what she needs to go do at this early hour, but whatever it is, she's certainly going to have fun doing so. She's so happy she might even break into song; and as much as that thought should perturb her, the Ponyville morning is just too fine to warrant perturbation. Can things ever go wrong? She doesn't think so. “Hello, Mayor Mare,” she greets warmly as she begins down the street. “Hello, Davenport!” “Mornin', kid,” he returns. Yes, today is a good day. Gentle, and still, and can things ever go wrong? She doesn't think so. She passes by the new fancy restaurant that just opened up, and even there the patrons are warm and courteous. Soon she allows herself to be pulled into an impromptu dance with a stallion she's never met, but he has such wonderful skill with his hooves that it hardly matters. Yes, she confirms again as she continues down the street, everything is going to be just fi— A short deluge of rainwater later, and just like that, everything is not going to be fine. She glares at the cloud. “Rainbow Dash, that's not funny!” The voice that answers isn't Rainbow Dash. “I'm terribly sorry, darling,” Rarity says humbly. Twilight turns to the voice; the white-coated pony stands on a bridge that surely was not there when Twilight last looked. She should be shocked by this, but she's more taken by the fact that Rarity's horn is glowing. Then she notices the clouds in the sky. They are, all of them, elegant, like... dresses, almost. Dresses? Why dresses? she mumbles to herself. Certainly they're odd-looking, even for clouds, and there is an unmistakeable air of intelligent fashion to them, but why does she get the feeling that there's more that she should be seeing here? Rarity, seeing that Twilight's attention has turned elsewhere, promptly returns to her work. She would have expected some sort of response to her apology, at the very least, but perhaps Twilight isn't feeling very well today. The normally studious girl was dancing, after all, and with strangers at that. And more importantly, she was dancing well, which Rarity has learned to recognize as a sign of Very Strange Things to Come. Still, as she arranges the errant thunderclouds into a neat checkerboard pattern, Rarity makes one more attempt at pacifying her purple friend. “I'm afraid I'm not very good with the thundery ones...” Maybe you'd like to help a girl out? she adds silently. Several moments later, Twilight still hasn't responded, and isn't that just rude? But, Rarity chides herself, perhaps Twilight is just worse off than she initially thought. It's obvious something is bothering her. And it's not likely due to the errant raincloud that very nearly literally rained on her sunny day; Twilight's never been shy around water before, and besides, Rarity already explained herself. She swirls the rainclouds into a pretty little bow-tie formation. Confident that this will keep them in line for at least a brief moment, she turns to more properly express her concern for her friend— Twilight is staring, mouth agape, at her flank. Or, more specifically, at her cutie mark. What's so strange about her cutie mark? Certainly the girl's seen it dozens of times before. Rarity glances down and back, twisting her body to get a better look. A white cloud with a rainbow-colored bolt shooting from it. Same as always. “Twilight?” she asks with a hint of concern. “Twilight?” She walks up slowly to the other unicorn and repeats the name. “Twilight?” Now she's worried; Twilight's eyes are wide and uncomprehending, and she hasn't moved from her spot. Rarity waves a hand in front of her eyes. “Are you awake, darling? Twilight?” Then Pinkie Pie reaches down and pulls as hard as she can. “TWIIIIIIIII—” “—LIIIIIIIGHT!” “Aaagh!” Twilight has never been woken up quite so abruptly before. It takes her a moment to realize she's on the floor, tangled in her bedsheets and Pinkie Pie's erstwhile limbs—no, wait, those are her own. She groans and sorts her legs from her bedding, blinking away the remnants of sleep. What a dream... “Are you alright, darling? We knocked on your door, but you weren't answering. When we let ourselves in, you were sleeping so soundly that we could hardly wake you,” Rarity says, looking at her with concern; Pinkie hops around the room, very much pleased with herself at a job well done. “I-I'm sorry, girls,” she says sheepishly. “I've just been—” She stops to yawn. “—been really tired lately. Thanks for waking me. What time is it?” “Time for BREAKFAST!” Pinkie shouts, and suddenly there is a table in her room with three stools and a veritable feast of food and drink. Twilight does not question Pinkie's resourcefulness. Soon she is munching on a sandwich of roses and jelly with a delicious salt lick next to it and hot tea steaming away in a small cup. “I had the strangest dream,” she says without preamble. “I woke up feeling so happy and excited, so I started singing and dancing in the streets—” “You had a dream, woke up, went dancing, and then came back to sleep before we could wake you? Why would you do that?” Pinkie asks. She is eating a muffin. Where she got a muffin... Twilight does not question Pinkie's resourcefulness. “She means she dreamed that she woke up, Pinkie.” “Ohhh. So then what happened?” “I... I'm not sure. I turned around and all of a sudden you were there, Rarity, standing on a bridge. I think you were... Yes! You were most definitely controlling the rainclouds with your magic.” “You mean like Rainbow Dash?” Rarity laughs at the possibilities. Twilight nods. “You even had her cutie mark,” she continues, then quickly lifts a napkin to protect her face from Rarity's spit tea. “That tawdry thing? Goodness!” Rarity turns to look at her rump, gazing at it for long, heartfelt moments. “Not that there's anything wrong with Dash's cutie mark, but I couldn't stand having anyone else's cutie mark on MY posterior.” Twilight and Pinkie giggle. “Neither could we.” “And then what happened?” Pinkie asks in between mouthfuls of cake. “Then YOU reached in and literally pulled me out of my dream.” Pinkie just grins obliviously. “Why are you two here anyway?” “You don't remember? Are you sure you're alright, Twilight?” Twilight sighs. “I don't know. The last few days, it's seemed like I just get more tired more easily. It's probably nothing. Maybe I just need a break from my studies...” She shudders visibly at the thought. “Maybe we should throw a party!” Pinkie reaches for her ever-present cannon. “I think I'm partied out for the moment, Pinkie. But thanks.” “Awww.” Pinkie quietly replaces the cannon. “You said you were going to help me with research on Middle Age High Court Canterlotan fashions, but I'm sure I can get Spike; he knows this library almost as well as you do.” It's true, Twilight realizes, almost jealously. That dragon can find the most obscure books, often tossed carelessly about and long forgotten by her. Almost as well as her? He might know the library BETTER than her. Well, he IS my number one assistant, she cheers with pride. To Rarity, she answers, “That's alright. I just remembered, I put all the books I could find over there.” She points to three uneven stacks of old, hardbound books in the corner by the door, all with small tabs poking out from between the pages. “I bookmarked the parts I thought might be especially helpful. Of course, you can't fully appreciate their significance without knowing the context surrounding them, so I wrote up a list of chapter summaries for each book as well.” She points to a small column of paper next to the books. Only head high, too; she's very proud of how much efficient she was with her paper usage. “And I included in the margins of each list references to other books that might relate to that particular one so that if you decide to focus on any one decade or designer, you can easily get what you need. Oh, and by author, so if you want books by the same author or authors – there are eighty-four unique authors, by the way—” “Pardon me, Twilight, but you read through ALL of these?” “And bookmarked and summarized with references by decade, designer, author, and—” “It's no wonder you're so tired, Twilight. You must have been up all night for nights getting this information. How long did it take you to do all this?” Pinkie pokes the stack of papers suspiciously, as if they might come alive at any moment. “How long?” Twilight ponders the question. ...she doesn't really know. “I don't really know.” “You don't really know.” Rarity scoffs. “I appreciate the effort you put into this, Twilight, I truly do, but please remember to not work yourself too hard, alright, dear?” Twilight nods absently, positively preening at her thoroughness. “I'll try.” Oh, Rarity will absolutely LOVE reading about the origin of the Double-Twilled Satin Thread Stitch! “Wonderful. Now, one more question.” “Yes?” “How do you propose we move this many books to my shop by day's end?” -_-_-_- With help from one of Rarity's neighbors – a brown stallion named Caramel, who Twilight recalls also graciously helped pull their cart to the Grand Galloping Gala however many moons ago – they manage to move all the books to the Carousel Boutique in only two trips. Twilight and Pinkie spend only a few minutes lingering there, then they're off to the Everfree Forest. As it turns out, the reason for Pinkie showing up at her door that morning was to get her to help Zecora with, as Pinkie put it, “a really super-duper extra-supremely positively magnificently hiLARious practical joke potion.” How she managed to convince Zecora to even TRY to make such a thing is beyond Twilight, but again, Twilight does not question Pinkie's resourcefulness. As it happens, all the potion does is turn Pinkie briefly into a strange, bipedal version of herself, with five phalanges on each of her hoofless legs. The whole process looks very painful, but afterwards Pinkie just laughs it off and says she had been wanting to do that for a while now. The rest of the day goes by without incident. Twilight finishes looking through the village's building code laws and picks out several clauses which could be removed or amended, to show to Mayor Mare. The Cutie Mark Crusaders take up librarian duties for all of half an hour before leaving to try other, more fruitful endeavors. Spike and Owlowiscious clean up her clutter while she visits the Apples. Several of the villagers stop by for this and that book on this and that subject. All in all, a good day. A fine day. As she tucks herself into bed that night, Twilight thinks back to the dream she had that morning. It was such a nice dream, with singing and dancing and sunshine and warmth and laughter. She smiles to herself and drifts off to sleep. Can things ever go wrong? She doesn't think so. -_-_-_- Author's Note A/N: Disclaimers and such. I don't own MLP:FiM, Hasbro does. I'm not affiliated with them, though I sort of wish I was, because as much as I love FiM, I felt they really mishandled the Season 3 finale. It's the reason we're here, after all. This is, in essence, a “second draft” of MMC. I've taken the general plot of that episode and reworked it to fit a longer “running time.” (To be more specific, I tried to make it fit roughly into three full-length episodes.) The changes made are rather minor up to a point, after which the plot veers far enough away from the original that, were this story canon, it would make for a very different kind of wait for Season 4. (Of course, the argument can be made that the series has been veering further and further from itself for a long while now, an argument I'm inclined to agree with.) Anyway, that's enough from me. I hope you enjoy it. Part 1, Chapter 3: DawnPart 1 Chapter 3 – Dawn It is nearing dawn. Luna and Celestia stand on one of the many balconies of the castle, each preparing to perform their respective duties. Luna paws nervously at the stone beneath her feet; she cannot shake the unease that is persistently crawling under her skin. Twilight Sparkle, Celestia's protege, suffered nightmares tonight, and what little of them Luna tasted was pungent and distasteful, like fine wine left to sour. This unease... she thinks perhaps she has felt this before. It is a sensation she should remember. “Be careful this morning, sister,” she says as she lowers the moon over the horizon. “Many bad dreams last night.” She adds, a bit too quickly, “Your bodyguards dreamed you were actually the changeling queen.” Celestia laughs, and Luna feels some of the tension loosen within her breast. Perhaps her sometimes overactive imagination is simply getting the better of her. “Why don't you ever refer to anypony by their name, Luna? They ARE your friends and subjects, after all.” “They're YOUR friends and subjects, sister. They would do anything for you. They're hardly MY anything.” Celestia gives her a teasing, knowing look, and it is all Luna can do to keep a straight face. Still too perceptive by half, her sister. Together, the two princesses begin taking down the stars, pulling them one by one out of the night sky. This is one of the few things that Luna and Celestia do together. It began simply enough, as a means of easing both princesses into roles they had abandoned a millennium ago. Yet despite the two years that have passed, despite having fully reclaimed her powers as princess of the night, Luna still insists that they share this particular duty. Perhaps she still doubts her abilities. Perhaps she fears she will relapse into the jealousy that nearly tore their kingdom apart. Or perhaps she just cherishes the quiet conversations with her sister that this activity affords, now more than ever. Whatever the reason, her sister has yet to object. “Luna,” Celestia says, not stopping in her work, “I know for a fact you love watching what they dream up while they're sleeping.” Luna pauses. “Well... I admit there is some small joy in knowing everypony's deepest secret.” Celestia looks at her again, scandalized. Luna keeps her expression carefully schooled, and tentatively sets aside her anxiety. Nothing is the matter, she assures herself. It must be my imagination. As Celestia rises into the air, though, she locks eyes with Luna, and the lighthearted conversation dies instantly. Much can be divined from one look, and whatever goes unsaid between Luna and Celestia in this moment makes the sun goddess's ears snap forward and her head stand just a little straighter. “Dreams, you said?” Celestia's voice is neutral enough, but there it is, underlying her words: unease, like soured wine. “Twilight Sparkle, your student, suffered from one not long ago. I only caught a glimpse of it, but there was something about it. Something...” And the word that comes unbidden to her lips sends a shiver down her spine before she even utters it. “...ominous.” Another moment of silence passes before Luna repeats, “Be careful, sister.” “I will. Thank you, Luna.” With that, Celestia pulls the last star out of the sky— The world cracks sharply, and both princesses' ears fill with the sound of shattering glass. Celestia tumbles from the sky while Luna suddenly finds her footing fail her. Both cry out soundlessly against the sensation of something reaching into them and pulling— And, as quickly as it happens, it stops. For a moment, neither of them knows who or where they are. “Twilight Sparkle...” Luna barely recognizes her own voice. “Y-yes,” Celestia agrees. Her voices sounds shaky and, for the first time in a long time, afraid. “We need the Elements of Harmony.” She is up to her feet in seconds, Luna moments behind her. Their guards do not come when called, however. Neither do their servants, nor their messengers. “Strato Sphere!” Celestia commands. The silence that follows digs into Luna in a way she didn't think possible; only a second passes before Celestia marches loudly to the door, but in that second, Luna is back on the moon, back in the emptiness, the coldness, the perpetual... silence. She is waiting for the prophesied time, the malice coursing through her veins like something old, and powerful, and wild. And there is the taste on her tongue of soured wine. Her sister has thrown open the chamber door and is berating Strato Sphere, who looks as if he has just woken from a dream. A dream. Luna wishes this were a dream. A dream like Twilight's. Twilight's dream. A dream of Ponyville at dawn. She, the night, on one side. And on the other, the sun, and Celestia— It would be so easy, she hears herself say. Just a bit of magic, Princess of the Night, and aim it at her. Just a small bit of revenge. What is revenge compared to a thousand years of imprisonment for the crime of wanting to be loved? So easy. It would be so easy. And so right. Luna can't believe how right this feels. She readies the spell, points it almost nonchalantly... All you wanted was to be loved, Princess. Yes—no. No, this isn't right. She doesn't want this. Luna stumbles backwards, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. She is past all this. She is Nightmare Moon no more. Nightmare Moon no more. Nightmare Moon no more. Nightmare Moon no more... She repeats this mantra, and slowly, things come back into focus. Celestia and Strato Sphere's voices, first. The sounds of the night second. Then the smell of morning grass, and cool stone beneath her hooves. And finally, her vision, which was until a moment ago filled with nothing but twinkling lights upon a black canvas. She keeps her eyes glued to her elder sister. Her sister, who was and is the cornerstone of her life. Her sister, who rules over the sun as she rules over the moon. Her sister, whose reign is magnificent and just. Her sister, whose... whose... Whose cutie mark has changed. “Sister,” Luna says, and there is no hiding her consternation now. She points at her sister's flank, which is distinctly bare. “Your cutie mark is gone.” -_-_-_- Part 1, Chapter 3 END Author's Note Sorry for the long wait. Will try to get to the end of this first episode by the season 4 premiere. Part 1, Chapter 4: What My Cutie Mark Is Telling MePart 1 Chapter 4 – What My Cutie Mark is Telling Me “Twilight! You gotta help us!” cries a passing pony. “What's going on?” Twilight asks in return, giving the pony's rump a puzzled look as a white-hot sizzle of lightning lances across the sky. The wind whips wildly around the village, throwing up seemingly random clouds of dust and foliage. In the distance, she makes out the faint white outline of snow on the roofs of houses, and in another direction, the sky darkens into jagged lines of sleet. The clouds producing them loom overhead, arranged in what could almost be called a neat checkerboard pattern. (Wrong, wrong, wrong, something inside her complains.) “It's Rarity! She's gone crazy!” another pony explains, pausing just long enough to point in the direction of the bridge leading out of town before another bolt of lightning sends her scampering away. Twilight stares at the pony's cutie mark for a moment as well, then takes off immediately toward the bridge, ordering ponies to find shelter as they panic around her. (It's all wrong, and you have to do something about it! she hears again.) She spots Rarity right where the pony said. “Rarity!” she yells, skidding to a halt at the base of the bridge. Rarity stands amidst a crowd of other unicorns and earth ponies; the unicorns seem to be focusing their magic at the sky above, while the earth ponies trot anxiously. Twilight frowns at their cutie marks, just like she did with everypony else, but she can't quite seem to put her hoof on what looks so off and why... Her white-maned friend spots her almost immediately and pushes her way through the crowd. “Twilight! Positively perfect timing! Can you—Twilight?” It's another dream, it's another dream, it's another dream, Twilight tells herself. It has to be a dream, because there's no way this can happen. But try as she might, the pitter patter of rain on her coat and the sound of thunder above and the sight of Rarity's cutie mark is all too real. Still, she taps the multicolored lightning bolt twice just to make sure, and again on the other side to make doubly sure. “What are you doing? What happened to your cutie mark?” she blurts out. Two of a quickly growing number of questions. Like “why do you have Rainbow Dash's cutie mark?” or “when did this happen?” or “who are those other ponies and what are they doing?”. Actually, speaking of whom, where IS Rainbow Dash? “Whatever do you mean, Twilight?” Rarity responds, almost offended. “I'm simply doing what I've done since the day it first appeared. Does my sky look fabulous or what?” She gives a hard, judging sneer to the crowd of ponies assembled on the bridge. “If only THOSE simpletons would leave me to do my work, but NO, they have to 'play their part.' Argh! I mean, really, Twilight, do they not understand how artiste fashion is?” “Rarity, what are you talking about? You're a dress-maker, not a weather pony!” Rarity scoffs. “The term is FASHION DESIGNER, Twilight. And of course I'm a weather pony! Don't you see the—” She pauses for a moment and shakes her head. “I mean... I...” Twilight watches intently as Rarity's eyes take on a far-away look, her mouth hanging slightly open. Then she shakes her head again, the glow of her horn ceases, and she lists slightly before catching herself. “I... You're right, Twilight. I... I AM a fashion designer. But... But... my cutie mark.” Rarity motions to it with one foreleg. “I-I MUST be a weather pony. It's what my cutie mark is telling me!” One more bolt of lightning strikes mere meters from where the two of them stand, followed by another, and another. Twilight feels the energy of the lightning strikes deep in her bones. “First things first! We have to clear these skies!” she shouts over the loud ringing in her ears. “How!?” “Follow me!” She heads back to the group on the bridge. “Are you all the weather team!?” With the way they look at her, she may as well have asked if they were ponies. She tries again. “Were you all weather ponies yesterday!?” “Of co—” “Yeah! Wait...” “Duh, Twilight—What?” And just like that, the unicorns' magic stops and the lightning and wind cease, though the rainclouds and condensation still remain. Twilight sighs quietly to herself. “That's better. Now I know you're all probably very confused about your cutie marks. Believe me, so am I. But we have to take care of this weather first or else we won't be able to figure out what's going on. Okay?” All present glance around at each other nervously before hesitantly nodding. “Good. Now. One, two, three, four... eight-nine-ten... twelve-thirteen, fourteen. Is this the entire weather team?” Again, all the ponies look around at each other, some with more visible signs of panic than others. “Do any of you know how many ponies make up a weather team?” “Of course we do!” exclaims a maroon-colored earth pony. “It's... wait, no. That's right. I'm a weath—no, a grape farmer. I—aaaaaargh! I know I'm not a weather pony, but I keep telling myself I am!” “Focus, everypony. I need you all to focus as hard as you can. Try not to pay attention to what your cutie mark says, okay? Something's going on here and I'm going to get to the bottom of it, but I need all of you especially to focus. You're supposed to be in charge of the weather now, except none of you are equipped to deal with it, and you might end up hurting lots of fillies. You absolutely must NOT mess with the weather. Can you all handle that?” Their collective nods are about as enthusiastic as an aquaphobic pony crossing a stream. Still, it's the best Twilight is going to get. “Okay. Now, were there any pegasi helping you, kicking clouds?” “A few,” answers one of the unicorns. “What do you think? Three?” A murmur of yeses ripples through the crowd. Twilight cringes. Three is better than none, given the circumstances. Still, she would have liked better numbers than that. She turns to Rarity, and places what she hopes is a comforting hoof on her shoulder. “Rarity, I need you and everypony here to find them as fast as you can. They're our weather team now.” Rarity looks at her questioningly. “Where are you going, Twilight?” Twilight smiles calmly, feeling nothing at all like calm. “I'm going to find Rainbow Dash and march her down here to help.” -_-_-_- Of course, finding a pegasus is easier said than done. Rainbow Dash isn't home – Twilight doesn't actually know this (because although she could normally bring Dash's cloud house down to earth with her magic, her magic seems to be particularly lackadaisical today), but she trusts it to be true – and nobody seems to know where the wayward pegasus has run off to. Maybe Spike can help, she finally surmises after half an hour of roaming the outskirts of the village. And Owlowicious, too. After all, neither of the two have cutie marks to worry about, so they can't possibly be affected by this like the rest of Ponyville seemingly has. She really should have thought of this sooner. Who better to help her than them? Maybe Fluttershy isn't affected by whatever's going on, either. Twilight doesn't bother holding out hope, though. That just wouldn't seem right given how everything's been going today. She sets off in the direction of Fluttershy's house. -_-_-_- Or she could find Rainbow Dash there. That works, too. “Hey, Twilight,” sighs the blue pegasus when she knocks on the door. “Twilight!? TWILIGHT!” cries another familiar voice, the owner of which charges straight past Rainbow Dash and into Twilight's forelegs. “You gotta help us, Twilight! Fluttershy left me alone with Rainbow Dash and the animals and Rainbow Dash is trying to take care of them and that's never a good idea because you know how bad she is with animals and all the animals know not to trust her anymore and I think Angel might have declared a coup I don't know I don't speak bunny but now they're trashing Fluttershy's place and—” “Rainbow Dash, what are you—” Twilight begins as she picks up the panicked purple dragon onto her back, but a sudden crash from the living room interrupts her. “What in Equestria is going on in here!?” she finishes and charges into the house against Dash's protests (she notes Dash's cutie mark without surprise: butterflies). She is in no mood to see the state of carnage here – she still vividly remembers the incident with Dash dropping Tank through the cloud floor onto some poor delivery mare's head, and said mare's cart turning over, and said cart's contents spilling onto Ponyville's hapless citizens – but there is little choice in the matter. And, after a few seconds of careful observation, she utters a simple “yep,” turns around, grabs Rainbow Dash's ear firmly, and abandons Fluttershy's home to the animals. “Spike.” “U-uh-huh? What is it, Twilight?” “Can you take care of these animals?” “H-hey, Egghead! You can't expect him to do MY—” “Can you do a better job than Dash has done?” “Um... uh...” “Don't look at her. Look at me. Can you?” “Yeah, I guess. A little. Why—” “Good. I'm leaving you in charge here, then. Where's Fluttershy? Where's DISCORD? I swear to Celestia, if he's the one behind this...” “As much as it would please me to be today's mastermind, I have to sadly admit this is someone else's genius at work.” Twilight feels an eyelid twitch ever so slightly. This day just keeps getting better and better. “By the way,” the draconequus notes offhandedly, “I LOVE what you've got going on, sister.” He slaps her fondly on the flank. Twilight breathes in deeply, lest she do something like zap him into oblivion. Breath in, and out. In, and out. “What about me?” she asks calmly. “You mean you haven't noticed?” Discord laughs that smarmy kickable laugh of his. “I've been a little BUSY this morning, Discord, in case you couldn't tell. Now. What. About. Me?” “Oh, it's nothing, really. You can't even notice it, really—” “DISCORD!” “Hey, Twilight!” Spike suddenly chimes in. “Your cutie mark is gone! You're a blank flank!” Under most circumstances, this would alarm Twilight greatly. Her cutie mark is her life. Magic is her life. Without it, even if she had another cutie mark, she just would not feel the same. She would feel like a part of herself is missing. Under most circumstances. Under these circumstances, she just takes it in stride. “That explains why I haven't been able to use my magic,” she says, and that's the end of the matter. “Some chocolate milk, perhaps? Drink your sorrows away?” Discord offers. Twilight knocks the glass from his hand and doesn't bother to feel sorry for it. “Rainbow Dash!” she shouts. Rainbow Dash comes to a sudden stop just before touching the front door of Fluttershy's cottage. “Get over here now!” The tone in her voice brooks no argument. -_-_-_- “Got it, Discord? Princess Celestia wants to use your powers for good, so here's your chance to do so.” “Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” “I'm serious, Discord! I better see you clearing the skies after you're done helping Spike here!” “I Pinkie Promised, didn't I? Twilight, you're in a perplexingly foul mood. Here I am, offering my humble services. I won't even comment on the fact that surely with your magic powers, clearing the skies would be a—” “DISCORD!” “And that would be my cue. Arrivederci!” Twilight bristles quietly to herself for a moment before turning to Spike. “Think you got this under control? I know I'm putting a lot of responsibility on your shoulders, watching over Discord and all—” “Aw, just leave it to me, Twilight! Besides, if anything goes wrong, I can just send Owlowicious to get you.” “Exactly. And you said Fluttershy went over to Sugarcube Corner, right? Gee, I wonder what her cutie mark can be.” “Are you going to be okay, Twilight?” Twilight pats him on the head and tries not to let the tears well up in her eyes. He has absolutely no idea how important he is to her. Not for the first time, she promises she will cherish him forever and ever. “Thanks, Spike. There's a reason you're my number one assistant.” They share a lingering hug. She senses just how afraid he is: of Discord, of his responsibility, of this day. She feels exactly the same. They tighten their hold on each other for one more moment of comfort in each others' arms. Then he heads back into the house and she turns to Dash. “Okay, Dash. Now what are you again?” “A vet, duh. Wait! I mean... Aaargh!” “I know it's hard, Rainbow Dash, but you have to keep reminding yourself who you really are.” “Easy for you to say, Twilight. You're just a blank flank. Nothing's really changed for you. Me... I know who I am, but the moment I stop paying attention, I start to drift back here, like it's my destiny. It's what my cutie mark is telling me.” “Do you think not being able to use magic is easy for me?” she retorts with far more venom than she intended. Dash doesn't say anything for a few seconds, just follows meekly. “I guess not. Sorry, Twilight. I'm just on edge.” Twilight sighs. “I know, Dash. Me, too. Like I said, just try to focus on what you're supposed to do. Once we get back to Ponyville and you start kicking in those clouds, it'll be just like it was. Everything's going to be just fine.” “I hope you're right, Twilight.” -_-_-_- About the only consolation Twilight can find today is in the fact that the town hasn't yet burned to the ground... though it certainly did its best during her brief absence. By the time she made it back into town to check on Fluttershy, Rarity and the other “weather” unicorns had taken it upon themselves to resume unintentionally terrorizing Ponyville. Fortunately, the three pegasi she had heard about earlier had also been combating their efforts with varying levels of success. (As it turns out, two of the three pegasi had been cloud kickers even before the cutie mark switcheroo, and they managed to give the third – an astronomer named Stardancer – an almost literal crash course in weather control. Thank Celestia for small miracles.) Once Dash took to the air and Twilight bullied the unicorns back to their senses, Ponyville was back on course for a semi-normal day, for the time being. She then spent lunch at the Sugarcube Corner working crowd control for Fluttershy's rather disastrous foray into grief counseling. Whereas Pinkie Pie exuded positivity and darn near forced even the most despondent ponies into a state of perpetual joy, Fluttershy's mutterings of “cheer up, um... that is, if you want to...” and “I know you're feeling down, but, um, um... um...” could barely get a rise out of her audience at best, and roused their ire at worst. Twilight even went so far as to hide Pinkie's party cannon after Fluttershy stuffed herself into it and nearly shot herself into the Sugarcube Corner's wall. In the end, she managed to convince the shy pegasus to return home by way of “your animals need entertaining, too, right, Fluttershy? Plus, I'm sure Discord could use a good laugh right about now.” That last part was as lie as lies could be – the LAST thing needing some cheering up in this situation was Discord – but it was good enough for Fluttershy, which was good enough for her. Then it was on to Sweet Apple Acres to check on the Apple family and be less than surprised to find Pinkie Pie zipping across the fields. Twilight would have stepped in, but wonder of wonders, Pinkie actually made for a surprisingly effective apple farmer. Maybe her days on a rock farm had prepared her for this. She took no joy in the endeavor, though; her usually unkempt mane was well-groomed and orderly, and her eyes had a habit of drifting off-center on occasion, two sure signs of Pinkamena Syndrome. Of the Apple family, only Applejack and Applebloom were missing from the farm. Big Mac and Granny Smith had luckily switched cutie marks with each other, so the only odd behavior either of them exhibited was when Big Mac tried baking a pie. Applejack had apparently taken off that morning to the Carousel Boutique, but of Applebloom there was no sign. This did not and does not sit well with Twilight. The poor filly and her friends must be terrified of their new responsibilities right now. With that in mind, Twilight is back in Ponyville proper, half a block from Rarity's boutique. If anyone knows where Applebloom is, it's Applejack. Suddenly, and without reason, she yawns. That's weird, she says as she shakes herself back to full awareness. I don't FEEL tired... Then again, it HAS been a hard day... Sleep is just about the LAST thing she needs. What she needs is to check on Applejack, and then meet with Mayor Mare (or whoever is mayor now) in order to organize an emergency town hall meeting. “Excuse me. AJ, are you in here?” she asks as she opens the door to the shop. “C'mon in, Twilight,” drawls Applejack from inside the shop. “Maybe y'can help me with sumthin'.” Twilight enters the shop to find Applejack hunched over a sewing machine, scissor in one hoof and dress in the other. “I've been tryin' all day to work this darn contraption, but I—” here she grunts and bites down on the sewing machine thread, using both hoofs to awkwardly hold the scissors “—I jus' cahn do uh ting widdit.” Twilight can't help but giggle just a little bit at the sight of Applejack attempting to sew. The world may be going crazy, but that doesn't make Applejack trying to do fine work any less silly. After futilely attempting to work the scissors with her hoofs, Applejack finally throws it onto the workstation and cuts off the thread with her teeth instead, tying it into an ugly, awkward-looking knot. “Tell me, Twilight: Why can't y'all unicorns invent stuff as can be used by us normal, non-magical ponies? Because that there ain't fit to be used by a dog, much less a pony.” “You don't look too good, Applejack. Been a rough day?” Twilight asks in lieu of an answer. She fights off another yawn by stretching until she hears a series of satisfying cracks in her bones. “Y'could say that. I ain't hardly had time to take a break, I've been so busy. Lookie here at what I made.” She takes the dark turquoise dress and lays it out on a merriequin. Off-color patches dot the dress, and buttons seem to have been sewn on at random. “I think,” Applejack says after some consideration, “that it's a dress.” “Applejack, it's okay. You're not a dress-ma—a fashion designer.” “What in tarnation are ya talkin' 'bou—” If Twilight is a bit more forceful than necessary when she places her hoof in Applejack's mouth, it only speaks to how often she's had to repeat this question today. “Were you a fashion designer yesterday? Let me answer that. No, you weren't. I know you're confused. I am, too. Try to focus on who you really are. It helps for a little while. It seems everypony's cutie marks have been switched around at random. I don't know how or why. I'm trying to find Mayor Mare and get everypony together for a town hall meeting. Maybe we can figure this out. Right now I'm worried about Applebloom. Do you know where she and her friends are?” Applejack is quiet for a long time. Then she blinks. “Come again?” “I said—” Twilight falls mid-sentence. She is asleep before her body even hits the ground, leaving a very confused Applejack alone in the quiet boutique. “Um... Twilight?” -_-_-_- Part 1, Chapter 4 END Author's Note "Mannequin" has Dutch roots. The Dutch word for "mare" is "merrie." Thus, "merriequin" for the horse mannequins. I make no excuses for my butchery of language. Part 1, Chapter 5: The DreamingPart 1 Chapter 5 – The Dreaming “Oh, this is just perfect,” Applejack grumbles. It's not enough to be stuck doing some fancy shmancy froufrou work for a living, but she now has the added burden of caring for and carrying a comatose unicorn to bed and WHERE IS RARITY'S BED IN THIS GOSH-FORSAKEN MAZE!? Twice already she has bumped Twilight's head into a wall or door, and the second time might not have been entirely on accident. “Where where where—ah! Finally!” She plops Twilight down onto the bed, wraps the blanket around her, and, for lack of a better thing to do, she waits. In her waiting, she manages to rustle up some tea from Rarity’s kitchen for when Twilight awakens, as well as some biscuits and treats. Then it’s back to dress-making, which feels like such a chore today. What did Twilight say? Something about cutie marks and switching jobs? Switching jobs sounds like a horrible idea. If everypony in Ponyville switched their jobs for other ponies’ jobs, the entire world would probably fall into chaos, to say nothing of the town. Oh, well. Applejack is sure if it’s important, Twilight will tell her again when she wakes up. More importantly, where in blazes is Applebloom? she wonders as she runs chalk across a silk sheet. That filly better not be hanging out with Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo in this weather. Speaking of which, what are the weather teams thinking? She can hear the wind knocking against the carousel like a wolf huffing and puffing, when Dash very specifically told her that it would be lots of sunshine today. She was supposed to get in an entire day’s worth of apple-bucking, for cryin’ out loud! Apple-bucking... The chalk suddenly drops from her hoof, as do the needles pursed between her lips. Cutie marks, jobs switching, the weather going bonkers, and her not bucking apples – everything quickly clicks. “Twilight!” She races through the boutique, around turns that would have been nothing to Rarity but which confound her for what she now knows is a good reason, until finally bursting through to Rarity’s bedroom, where Twilight— “What in tarnation!?” A piercing white light emanates from the bed, so bright that Twilight can no longer be made out at its epicenter. Applejack shields her eyes from it even as she stumbles toward the bed. She has no idea what is happening to Twilight, but she’ll be darned if she lets her friend face it alone. As she gets closer, she begins to make out Twilight faintly. The light is so bright, even this close to Twilight—but no, it is more than just that. Applejack can see THROUGH Twilight, see the bedding and the pillows beneath her sleeping form. Whatever that light is, it is taking Twilight away. “Like hay you do!” she yells at it, as if that will do any good, and grabs a hold of Twilight’s foreleg. For a moment, she expects her hoof to pass right through Twilight, but the unicorn’s body feels as solid and real as it ever did before. Applejack has but a moment to appreciate this small comfort before the light explodes into white and sound, and when it disappears from the room, both ponies are gone. -_-_-_- “Applejack?” She feels something nudge her shoulder. Her tired, waking eyes make out a purple hoof, attached to a purple leg, to a purple body and purple hair and purple... “Twilight?” Applejack whispers as she shakes herself awake. “Where are we? Last I remember, we were in Rarity’s shop...” “You are in the Dreaming,” answers a familiar voice from behind Twilight. A midnight-colored coat and hair twinkling with starlight...“I apologize if the trip startled you, Applejack. I needed to speak with Twilight Sparkle, and this was the only way I could do so. I did not know you would be joining us. Things have been in chaos at Canterlot, as I’m sure they must be in Ponyville.” “What’s going on, Princess? Are you an’ Princess Celestia alright?” “We’re fine, Applejack. Thank you. I was just talking to Twilight here about what’s been going on.” “Do you remember what I told you, AJ? About the cutie marks?” Applejack concentrates. There’s surely something in her mind about cutie marks, jobs, and... and apple-bucking, of all things. She knows it was important at one time, but like a stick of butter, it keeps slipping out of her grasp. “I reckon you must’ve said sumthin’, Twi, but I can’t for the life of me remember what it was.” “Everypony I ran into this morning said the same thing. Whatever switched our cutie marks around must also be affecting our memories.” “Switched our cutie marks? Who coulda done such a thing?” Then, a silent spell later, “How come you ain’t affected, Twilight?” Twilight blinks. “Come again?” “Seems like only you and the Princesses are having no problem remembering what all our cutie marks should be as opposed to what they are.” “It took my sister and I considerable amounts of magic to overcome the effects of this affliction. Perhaps Twilight did the same?” This Luna says with a questioning glance Twilight’s way. Twilight shakes her head. “No... No, I woke up this morning and my cutie mark was switched around just like everypony else’s, but...” She takes in a breath and sighs it out. “...but since my special talent IS magic, I guess once my cutie mark disappeared, so did my magic. So even if I knew how, I couldn’t have reversed whatever happened to my cutie mark like you did.” Applejack notices the way Twilight rubs one hoof with the other, how her voice hitches ever so slightly, and steps closer to place a steadying hoof on her neck. Twilight smiles gratefully. Luna frowns. “That should not be. Other unicorns can still use magic. Your magic might be weakened, but there’s no reason it should be gone entirely. Are you sure?” “I’m positive. I couldn’t even brush my mane this morning. At the time I thought I was just tired, but—Actually...” “Twi?” “What happened in your dream, Twilight?” Applejack and Twilight both turn to the princess, the former with curiosity and the latter with shock. “How did you know I had a—” “I am princess of the night, and we are in the Dreaming.” “Oh, right. I... wait... no.” Twilight furrows her brow and taps silently with a back hoof as she thinks. Applejack backs away, trying not to let her growing nerves show; she knows Twilight works best with some space, but the purple unicorn’s habit of thinking to herself for extended periods of time never fails to instill a great deal of anxiety in Applejack. After what feels like eons, Twilight finally, hesitantly ventures, “I... had a dream about the sky. I was in the town square, watching it change from night to day and back again.” As she speaks, strange forms take shape in the darkness of the Dreaming: looming silhouettes on all sides that coalesce into the buildings of Ponyville. Above them, stars blink into existence, and the sheer black bleeds into shades of purple and blue. Twilight walks through the sleeping town with her eyes closed in concentration. Applejack and Luna follow. When they reach the town center, they come upon Twilight, sitting and watching the world change from night to day and back again. “Is this it?” Luna asks. Applejack watches the dream Twilight's shadow as it dances back and forth like something alive. “Yes—no—Yes. Yes, that's all,” Twilight resolves, the dreamworld around them flickering back and forth between the Ponyville exterior and Golden Oak Library. “I remember because afterward, I woke up and received that book from Princess Celes—no no no. That didn't... Did it?” The Dreaming spasms: Ponyville homes rise from bookshelves; some windows reveal the swirling sky outside, others peer into the bedrooms of sleeping ponies; a draft bends the candlelight sideways, casting a shadow of the town well against the walls. “Twi? You okay, hun?” Applejack comforts Twilight again, and eases away some of the minute vibrations. (She notices out of the corner of her eye that something is off about Twilight's cutie mark, but dismisses it as quickly as she sees it.) “Neither my sister nor I sent you any book, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna remarks warily. “What happened next?” When Twilight does not answer, the princess sternly stamps at the ground. “Twilight, look at me.” Twilight does as told, her eyes wide and more frightened than anything Applejack has ever seen. She doesn't seem to notice the Dreaming, even as it shifts so that they now stand on the stairs of Twilight's library. A door knock sounds from downstairs. “What happened next?” Luna demands. “The book had instructions in it for a spell, and the letter told me I had to complete it, so I... I...” Downstairs, Twilight flips randomly through the book. “From one to another, another to one—” “Stop it!” Twilight screams, finally tearing her eyes from Luna's to rush at the doppleganger down below. The dream world crumbles into dust, leaving her thrashing at a harmless cloud of smoke. When she has finished, she drops to her knees and breaks into sobs. “You cast the spell,” Luna says. “It was just a dream!” Twilight responds, as if Luna has accused her of something. She snaps around to confront them, only to immediately shrink away. “It was just a dream,” she repeats insistently. “It was... It was just... It was just a dream. “This is all my fault.” “Princess Luna, what's Twilight mean, this is her fault? What happened?” Luna, her eyes trained on Twilight, mumbles a quiet non-answer: “The Dreaming exists between all things, and all things visit the Dreaming.” Her brow furrows as a distasteful thought presents itself. “A dream inside a dream, and inside that dream a spell. A spell to change the waking world—no. A spell to change Destiny itself. And the walls of the Dreaming are thin; sometimes things bleed through...” There's a reason Applejack was born an earth pony and not a unicorn; all this talk of dreaming and spells and destiny may as well be gibberish for all she can wrap her brain around it. It's never simple with these magical types, is it? Always incantation this or ancient prophecy that. Or maybe Luna and Twilight are just two peas in a pod. She listens without listening for a bit longer, until a sound in the emptiness other than their combined breathing catches her ear. It almost sounds like... whispering? “Twilight?” she says to the unicorn curled into a ball at her hooves. “It smells,” Twilight says again, more loudly this time. “It didn't smell just a moment ago. Did it?” Luna takes a sniff of the dream air and frowns. “No, it did not,” she confirms. Something in her voice causes Applejack's ears to snap forward. She sucks in a deep breath as well, but to her the air is as lifeless as when they arrived. Still, she knows better than to doubt her two magically-attuned ponies. Incantations and ancient prophecies and all. Luna glances around agitatedly. Her horn brims with magic. “Stand up, Twilight Sparkle.” Her voice is strong, commanding, and laced with fear. “The walls of the Dreaming are thin...” “...and sometimes things bleed through,” Twilight finishes as she stands with assistance from Applejack. “What is it, Princess Luna?” “I don't know. But bringing you here was a mistake. Come, let us—” Ponyville bursts into existence once again and makes them all jump. Twilight leans more heavily on Applejack, who holds her more tightly in return. The moon takes shape in the sky to their right, then the sun to their left. Something sounds in the distance, at the edge of hearing. “Are you doing this, Twilight?” Luna asks. “This is my dream again,” Twilight says, “but I didn't do this. Or at least I don't think—Do you hear that? It sounds like laughter.” “I do.” “Yeah, me too. I really wish I couldn't.” Just then, a burst of light signals another pony's entrance to the Dreaming. Applejack and Luna immediately take positions to shield Twilight, but they soon lower their guard. “I'm glad I made it in time,” Princess Celestia exclaims as she trots to them. “Are you all alright?” “We're fine, sister. What are you doing here? How go things at Canterlot?” Celestia shakes her head to the questions. “Luna, you must take Twilight and Applejack away from here. They are in grave danger.” Twilight steps forward. “Princess Celestia, about the cutie marks... Last night, I—” “I know, Twilight.” Twilight blinks. Luna has a similar look of surprise. Applejack has been confused for a while now. “You do?” Twilight asks. “Yes. And I'm afraid the fault is all mine.” “Sister?” Celestia takes a moment to think. Applejack sees the impossible speed with which thoughts streak through her eyes; a thousand thousand thoughts in an instant, like seeing eternity in every blink. “Take this.” She pulls a rough, stony black key seemingly from the very fabric of the Dreaming and hands it to Twilight, who takes it hesitantly. “Do you remember the palace's northernmost garden?” Twilight nods. “At the base of the old poplar tree is a locked door. Open it with this key, and read everything inside. Can I trust you to do this?” Twilight nods. “Good. Now go.” With a flick of her head, the princess wills three portals into existence, then ushers her ponies to them. Applejack is more than ready to leave. She is an earth pony, and she needs to feel the grass beneath her feet. This world of spooky shadows and tasteless air was never designed for ponies such as her. Her fur coat bristles at the constant, drumming undertone of manic laughter. She can hear it everywhere, can feel it deep in her bones like a parasite writhing through the core of an apple. When she was younger, she took care of one of Winona's siblings, a beautiful but premature pup named Brandy, as it slowly withered away. Despite her and Big Mac's attentive care, Brandy died two nights after being born. She remembers the desperation that gripped her as Brandy went colder and colder to the touch. She remembers the inevitability. That's what she feels right now, pressing in on her as she waits anxiously for the three most powerful ponies in all of Equestria. Inevitability. -_-_-_- “Won't you at least tell us who or what is behind all this?” Twilight demands as she steps gingerly toward the portal, dark key in hoof. She clenches her nostrils against the increasing stench in the air. The laughter has grown louder, too; she remembers now how in her dream it seemed to rise up from everywhere at once. Old, and powerful, and wild. She tries not to think about what happened after that, or what will happen now. “Someone old, very old,” Princess Celestia explains quickly as she rushes them to the portal. “A nemesis of ours from when I was still a unicorn.” “You were once a unicorn?” Twilight asks, a million other questions forming in her head before the words leave her lips. Princess Celestia smiles a small smile. “Were you a unicorn once, too, Luna?” Luna does not smile. She only peers at her sister with questioning eyes. “Now, Twilight.” Something in the princess's voice makes her instantly jump to attention. Not that she isn't normally attentive, but her attention this time has nothing to do with learning more about magic. There is love in that voice, but also something more, something that makes her heart seize with panic and sorrow. “You know what happens at the end of this dream. You've seen it before. You know how powerful she is.” (And how old, and how wild.) “And you know that she wants you, and only you. You know you have to leave.” And as each sentence leaves her mouth, they become true. Twilight makes a half-hearted protest, because she also knows what else is in Celestia's voice now, but the princess shoos her into the portal with a kind smile upon her face, and Applejack pushes her through, and the white overtakes her, and she wakes up. -_-_-_- In the dark, Luna looks upon Celestia and sees the machinations of a cruel and unfair world. Far off in the distance, where the Dreaming ends and a darker, emptier world begins, she can see a star flickering dimly. The stench wafting from that border brings with it the memory of a thousand years of isolation and resentment, all unleashed in one terrific night of vengeance. The starlight in the distance calls to her, beckons for her return. “So many things to say, so little time,” Celestia whispers, touching her forehead to Luna's the way she did so many eons ago, when they were younger and more naïve. They are older now, and not so naïve, and the heaviness of an inexorable fate weighs heavily on their shoulders. She says nothing, just memorizes the look and feel of her older sister's face. Celestia's horn glows palely, drawing Luna's own power to the surface against her will. “Sister, what are you—” The magic washes over her like silk being dragged across her soul; she feels a snap as something unlocks deep inside. Then another, and another, and suddenly the ghost of an image flickers behind her eye: She and Celestia sit with four others in a loose circle, a small smile on her face and open laughter on her sister's. She toys idly at the Element of Harmony on her neck; it feels new and awkward. Then another: She watches from a cloud as Chrysalis tries to teach Celestia how to fly. Her sister follows the changeling into an updraft, and as the two trace an arc across the face of the sun, she marvels at how gossamer fairy wings can scatter the sunlight into so many colors. And another: She stares up into her sister's sad eyes, and at the night sky above her. Celestia looks so beautiful with the crown on her head; it turns the light just so. Something churns inside her like a writhing pestilence, and when she breathes she smells something sour and tangy. She must endure it; she must be brave. It is only a thousand years, she tells herself, and nods. She's ready. Luna nearly stumbles as the visions flicker about, but her sister catches her and holds on tightly as thousands of years of a forgotten life settles into her mind. “You're alright, Luna,” Celestia says before letting go. “I imagine the next few days will be very trying for you, Twilight, and all of Equestria. You'll all turn out fine, though. You are all far more resilient than you can possibly imagine.” Luna wants to tell her differently, that they won't be able to survive the change to come without her, but the jumble of images in her head tell her Celestia is right, even if she can't work out why just yet. She leaves her sister's side for the final time and steps into the portal. The warm light of the sun pools around her, and then the Dreaming gives way to white. -_-_-_- When she steps out into the Ponyville evening, Luna has tears in her eyes. She should have said something, there at the end. So many things to say, indeed. One would think that she of all ponies could fully appreciate the pain of losing words to time and no longer let them go unspoken. No lingering, she tells herself as she sucks in a breath of cold, frosty Ponyville air. What's past is past. Now. Come back to now. The weather has shifted to winter in this part of town: the streets are deserted, and many of the houses seem to have been abandoned for warmer neighborhoods. In the snow, not far away, two fresh sets of hoof prints lead to Rarity's boutique across the way. She breathes another lungful of air, deeper and more calmly this time, until Ponyville and reality fills her entire body, then breathes out, and all her unspoken words echo out into the world. The staleness of the Dreaming, the laughter, and her sister's final farewell, all of it gets flushed away. Luna follows the hoof prints through the snow. -_-_-_- Part 1, Chapter 5 END Author's Note Well, Season 4 came and passed. What a spectacularly dull ending for that one, too. Seems I'll have to pick up the pace if I'm to catch up. Here's hoping. And as always, thanks very much for any comments and criticism! Part 1, Chapter 2: And It is Old, and Powerful, and WildPart 1 Chapter 2 – And It is Old, and Powerful, and Wild -_-_-_- Twilight dreams. She sits alone, in the center of Ponyville, staring at her shadow. There's nothing wrong with her shadow; it just moves is all, and only as much as most shadows usually move. It starts on her left, long and transparent, then circles around her, below her, to her right, and back again. This pattern continues for several minutes (days? years?) before she realizes what's happening and looks up at the sky. It's like watching the Princesses work in fast forward. The sun streaks across the sky in a matter of seconds, then the world bleeds away to make room for the moon and its cavalcade of constellations and stars. Their movement is hypnotic, like watching a pendulum the size of the earth. Twilight feels herself falling asleep again. She could watch the world move forever... As Twilight's eyes droop, she hears something, at the very edge of her senses, like laughter. -_-_-_- Knock knock. Do you not know what time it is!? Twilight grumbles irritably into her blanket. It's nearly midnight! The entire town should be asleep! Whoever it is knocks again, and Twilight throws off the blanket in frustration. “Spike! Can you get the door!?” But then she remembers: Spike is spending the night at Fluttershy's. Apparently he's getting to know their pets quite well now. Well, she's glad for him. But it does make waking up in the middle of the night to entertain strange and unconscientious guests a chore. Knock kno— “I'm coming!” she shouts a bit too sharply. When she gets downstairs and opens the door, she lets the mailmare know how very displeased she is. She doesn't even ask what the items are; she just signs the paperwork, snatches them from his bag, and curtly closes the door on him. What is this, what is this, what is... Hm? A letter from Celestia? That's odd; she would have expected such a thing to come through Sp—oh, that's right. But still, what is so urgent that the Princess had it delivered to her in the middle of the night? “'Dear Twilight Sparkle,'” she reads out loud, more to keep herself awake than anything else. “'The spell contained on the last page of this book is Star Swirl the Bearded's secret unfinished masterpiece.'” She takes a moment to express her appreciation. “'He was never able to get it right, and thus abandoned it. I believe you are the only pony who can understand and re-write it. Princess Celestia.'” Why would Princess Celestia want her to finish a centuries-old spell, especially now? Certainly the Princess's magic is several magnitudes more powerful than even her own, as well as her wisdom. Celestia could do this in her sleep. Why have me do it? Does she have something planned for me? Maybe she wants to turn me into an alicorn like her and Luna? She giggles at the thought. Twilight Sparkle the alicorn! Well, whatever it is, she trusts Celestia's judgement. Twilight flips quietly through the large book – just because she knows where the spell is doesn't mean she can't read for reading's sake – but after only a few pages finds it lacking. Blank page. Flip. Blank page. Flip. Blank page. She knows this should alarm her – Star Swirl was as meticulous and thorough with his writing as she is with hers, and he would never leave an entire book bereft when they could be filled with spells – but it doesn't, and soon enough she's come to the final page: In the primal broth, form the sign of the Family, then sprinkle a cherry blossom petal dipped in blue sheep's milk and wreathed in the light of the sun. Stir with the feather of a flightless pegasus. Add the eye of a hurricane, and at the moment of spell's realization, pour into a diamond flask. Store on the bridge between the self and the world, and release while reciting: “From one to another, another to one: A mark of one's destiny singled out, alone, fulfilled.” Twilight feels the magics eddying within her, feels them form in her mind's eye into an almost palpable singularity – the spell. It rests just behind her consciousness, pooling into the bridge between herself and the world – her horn. Then she releases it in time with her recitation, the words of the incantation speeding it along, adding to it, augmenting it as it crosses the gulf between the worlds— Nothing happens. Did she do it wrong? No, she felt the spell. There was nothing wrong with it. Even if she had done it wrong, there would be some backlash, some sort of... SOMETHING. You can't just cast a spell and have nothing happen. Magic 101: “We deform the universe. THAT'S responsibility.” To have a spell work but do nothing... it just doesn't happen! But... Maybe it really is nothing, she tells herself after a moment. Maybe that's why Star Swirl abandoned it. But if that's the case, then what is it SUPPOSED to do? If she knew that, at least she could know what to look for... “Ugh,” she laments, with a mixture of disappointment and exhaustion. “I can't think like this. I'll figure it out in the morning.” She takes a step— -_-_-_- —and wakes up abruptly. She is still sitting in the middle of Ponyville, still dreaming of the shifting sky. It lulled her into a sleep, she realizes sheepishly, with its monotonous motion and captivating play of lights. She stands up and shakes herself free of the strange dream about a letter and a spell. And as she does so, she notices something very peculiar about her shadow: It has stopped moving. Then she looks upward and realizes why. The sky is split into two, with the moon setting into the night sky on her right and the sun rising into a bright day on her left. She is staring at the precise moment in between. The dawn. Then she hears it again: laughter so faint as to barely pull at the edge of her hearing, but growing louder. It seems to be coming from everywhere at once. And it is old, and powerful, and wild. Then something turns the lights off and Twilight screams. -_-_-_- When she awakens, Twilight clutches Smarty Pants to her and cries in her bed the way she did as a filly. She is terrified of opening her eyes to find herself in another dream, and equally terrified to close them and do the same. She wants her mother to hold her and tell her everything's okay, it was just a dream, silly filly, it can't hurt you. At one point, she is convinced she is finally awake, and half an instant later she is convinced that she is only dreaming that she is awake. She stays that way for a long while, holding onto the small reality of her doll, until long after the final cobwebby tendrils of sleep abandon her. She eventually looks at the clock and, seeing how late in the day it is, finds enough confidence to drag herself out of bed. She is absolutely exhausted; the sleep last night did her no good at all, apparently. Little wonder, that. Her morning routine takes longer than usual. She can't muster up enough energy to use her magic – in fact, she can scarcely feel her magic at all – so it's back to fumbling in the bathroom, brush in one hoof and small mirror in the other. Breakfast tastes terrible, partly because she only has enough effort for oats and water and partly because she manages to spill her water into her oats and she hates soggy oats. After suffering through breakfast, Twilight decides to go for a walk. Maybe the sun will cheer her up some, she thinks. The main wing of the library is thankfully mostly free of clutter; the only things in her way are the letter and book Princess Celestia sent her last night, which she briskly kicks out of the way. All in all, a terrible start to the day. So, of course, it should come to pass that the moment Twilight opens her front door, she is greeted by pandemonium of the highest order. -_-_-_- Author's Note A brief note: My headcanon is that Cadence isn't an alicorn. Because that's a plotline I'd also love to rewrite. (I'd like to rewrite a lot of Seasons 2 and 3, actually.) I'm debating whether to inject that bit of headcanon into the story or not. Maybe I should just ignore it? Hmmm... Also, I didn't mention this in the previous A/N (though I suppose it goes without saying), but I'd love to get some feedback, constructive or otherwise. How do you think it holds up compared to the original? Do you like the direction it's going? Is the writing any good? How would YOU remake MMC, if at all? Anyway. Thanks again.
Part 1, Chapter 1: Morning in PonyvilleEverything is Certainly Fine or Magical Mystery Cure, in three parts -_-_-_- Part 1 Chapter 1 – Morning in Ponyville -_-_-_- Morning in Ponyville is wonderful, Twilight thinks. Today feels like a good day, like everything's shimmering and shining. She slings on her saddle pack and makes for the door, humming a cheery little tune to herself as she greets the sunny, cheerful world. She's not sure exactly what she needs to go do at this early hour, but whatever it is, she's certainly going to have fun doing so. She's so happy she might even break into song; and as much as that thought should perturb her, the Ponyville morning is just too fine to warrant perturbation. Can things ever go wrong? She doesn't think so. “Hello, Mayor Mare,” she greets warmly as she begins down the street. “Hello, Davenport!” “Mornin', kid,” he returns. Yes, today is a good day. Gentle, and still, and can things ever go wrong? She doesn't think so. She passes by the new fancy restaurant that just opened up, and even there the patrons are warm and courteous. Soon she allows herself to be pulled into an impromptu dance with a stallion she's never met, but he has such wonderful skill with his hooves that it hardly matters. Yes, she confirms again as she continues down the street, everything is going to be just fi— A short deluge of rainwater later, and just like that, everything is not going to be fine. She glares at the cloud. “Rainbow Dash, that's not funny!” The voice that answers isn't Rainbow Dash. “I'm terribly sorry, darling,” Rarity says humbly. Twilight turns to the voice; the white-coated pony stands on a bridge that surely was not there when Twilight last looked. She should be shocked by this, but she's more taken by the fact that Rarity's horn is glowing. Then she notices the clouds in the sky. They are, all of them, elegant, like... dresses, almost. Dresses? Why dresses? she mumbles to herself. Certainly they're odd-looking, even for clouds, and there is an unmistakeable air of intelligent fashion to them, but why does she get the feeling that there's more that she should be seeing here? Rarity, seeing that Twilight's attention has turned elsewhere, promptly returns to her work. She would have expected some sort of response to her apology, at the very least, but perhaps Twilight isn't feeling very well today. The normally studious girl was dancing, after all, and with strangers at that. And more importantly, she was dancing well, which Rarity has learned to recognize as a sign of Very Strange Things to Come. Still, as she arranges the errant thunderclouds into a neat checkerboard pattern, Rarity makes one more attempt at pacifying her purple friend. “I'm afraid I'm not very good with the thundery ones...” Maybe you'd like to help a girl out? she adds silently. Several moments later, Twilight still hasn't responded, and isn't that just rude? But, Rarity chides herself, perhaps Twilight is just worse off than she initially thought. It's obvious something is bothering her. And it's not likely due to the errant raincloud that very nearly literally rained on her sunny day; Twilight's never been shy around water before, and besides, Rarity already explained herself. She swirls the rainclouds into a pretty little bow-tie formation. Confident that this will keep them in line for at least a brief moment, she turns to more properly express her concern for her friend— Twilight is staring, mouth agape, at her flank. Or, more specifically, at her cutie mark. What's so strange about her cutie mark? Certainly the girl's seen it dozens of times before. Rarity glances down and back, twisting her body to get a better look. A white cloud with a rainbow-colored bolt shooting from it. Same as always. “Twilight?” she asks with a hint of concern. “Twilight?” She walks up slowly to the other unicorn and repeats the name. “Twilight?” Now she's worried; Twilight's eyes are wide and uncomprehending, and she hasn't moved from her spot. Rarity waves a hand in front of her eyes. “Are you awake, darling? Twilight?” Then Pinkie Pie reaches down and pulls as hard as she can. “TWIIIIIIIII—” “—LIIIIIIIGHT!” “Aaagh!” Twilight has never been woken up quite so abruptly before. It takes her a moment to realize she's on the floor, tangled in her bedsheets and Pinkie Pie's erstwhile limbs—no, wait, those are her own. She groans and sorts her legs from her bedding, blinking away the remnants of sleep. What a dream... “Are you alright, darling? We knocked on your door, but you weren't answering. When we let ourselves in, you were sleeping so soundly that we could hardly wake you,” Rarity says, looking at her with concern; Pinkie hops around the room, very much pleased with herself at a job well done. “I-I'm sorry, girls,” she says sheepishly. “I've just been—” She stops to yawn. “—been really tired lately. Thanks for waking me. What time is it?” “Time for BREAKFAST!” Pinkie shouts, and suddenly there is a table in her room with three stools and a veritable feast of food and drink. Twilight does not question Pinkie's resourcefulness. Soon she is munching on a sandwich of roses and jelly with a delicious salt lick next to it and hot tea steaming away in a small cup. “I had the strangest dream,” she says without preamble. “I woke up feeling so happy and excited, so I started singing and dancing in the streets—” “You had a dream, woke up, went dancing, and then came back to sleep before we could wake you? Why would you do that?” Pinkie asks. She is eating a muffin. Where she got a muffin... Twilight does not question Pinkie's resourcefulness. “She means she dreamed that she woke up, Pinkie.” “Ohhh. So then what happened?” “I... I'm not sure. I turned around and all of a sudden you were there, Rarity, standing on a bridge. I think you were... Yes! You were most definitely controlling the rainclouds with your magic.” “You mean like Rainbow Dash?” Rarity laughs at the possibilities. Twilight nods. “You even had her cutie mark,” she continues, then quickly lifts a napkin to protect her face from Rarity's spit tea. “That tawdry thing? Goodness!” Rarity turns to look at her rump, gazing at it for long, heartfelt moments. “Not that there's anything wrong with Dash's cutie mark, but I couldn't stand having anyone else's cutie mark on MY posterior.” Twilight and Pinkie giggle. “Neither could we.” “And then what happened?” Pinkie asks in between mouthfuls of cake. “Then YOU reached in and literally pulled me out of my dream.” Pinkie just grins obliviously. “Why are you two here anyway?” “You don't remember? Are you sure you're alright, Twilight?” Twilight sighs. “I don't know. The last few days, it's seemed like I just get more tired more easily. It's probably nothing. Maybe I just need a break from my studies...” She shudders visibly at the thought. “Maybe we should throw a party!” Pinkie reaches for her ever-present cannon. “I think I'm partied out for the moment, Pinkie. But thanks.” “Awww.” Pinkie quietly replaces the cannon. “You said you were going to help me with research on Middle Age High Court Canterlotan fashions, but I'm sure I can get Spike; he knows this library almost as well as you do.” It's true, Twilight realizes, almost jealously. That dragon can find the most obscure books, often tossed carelessly about and long forgotten by her. Almost as well as her? He might know the library BETTER than her. Well, he IS my number one assistant, she cheers with pride. To Rarity, she answers, “That's alright. I just remembered, I put all the books I could find over there.” She points to three uneven stacks of old, hardbound books in the corner by the door, all with small tabs poking out from between the pages. “I bookmarked the parts I thought might be especially helpful. Of course, you can't fully appreciate their significance without knowing the context surrounding them, so I wrote up a list of chapter summaries for each book as well.” She points to a small column of paper next to the books. Only head high, too; she's very proud of how much efficient she was with her paper usage. “And I included in the margins of each list references to other books that might relate to that particular one so that if you decide to focus on any one decade or designer, you can easily get what you need. Oh, and by author, so if you want books by the same author or authors – there are eighty-four unique authors, by the way—” “Pardon me, Twilight, but you read through ALL of these?” “And bookmarked and summarized with references by decade, designer, author, and—” “It's no wonder you're so tired, Twilight. You must have been up all night for nights getting this information. How long did it take you to do all this?” Pinkie pokes the stack of papers suspiciously, as if they might come alive at any moment. “How long?” Twilight ponders the question. ...she doesn't really know. “I don't really know.” “You don't really know.” Rarity scoffs. “I appreciate the effort you put into this, Twilight, I truly do, but please remember to not work yourself too hard, alright, dear?” Twilight nods absently, positively preening at her thoroughness. “I'll try.” Oh, Rarity will absolutely LOVE reading about the origin of the Double-Twilled Satin Thread Stitch! “Wonderful. Now, one more question.” “Yes?” “How do you propose we move this many books to my shop by day's end?” -_-_-_- With help from one of Rarity's neighbors – a brown stallion named Caramel, who Twilight recalls also graciously helped pull their cart to the Grand Galloping Gala however many moons ago – they manage to move all the books to the Carousel Boutique in only two trips. Twilight and Pinkie spend only a few minutes lingering there, then they're off to the Everfree Forest. As it turns out, the reason for Pinkie showing up at her door that morning was to get her to help Zecora with, as Pinkie put it, “a really super-duper extra-supremely positively magnificently hiLARious practical joke potion.” How she managed to convince Zecora to even TRY to make such a thing is beyond Twilight, but again, Twilight does not question Pinkie's resourcefulness. As it happens, all the potion does is turn Pinkie briefly into a strange, bipedal version of herself, with five phalanges on each of her hoofless legs. The whole process looks very painful, but afterwards Pinkie just laughs it off and says she had been wanting to do that for a while now. The rest of the day goes by without incident. Twilight finishes looking through the village's building code laws and picks out several clauses which could be removed or amended, to show to Mayor Mare. The Cutie Mark Crusaders take up librarian duties for all of half an hour before leaving to try other, more fruitful endeavors. Spike and Owlowiscious clean up her clutter while she visits the Apples. Several of the villagers stop by for this and that book on this and that subject. All in all, a good day. A fine day. As she tucks herself into bed that night, Twilight thinks back to the dream she had that morning. It was such a nice dream, with singing and dancing and sunshine and warmth and laughter. She smiles to herself and drifts off to sleep. Can things ever go wrong? She doesn't think so. -_-_-_- Author's Note A/N: Disclaimers and such. I don't own MLP:FiM, Hasbro does. I'm not affiliated with them, though I sort of wish I was, because as much as I love FiM, I felt they really mishandled the Season 3 finale. It's the reason we're here, after all. This is, in essence, a “second draft” of MMC. I've taken the general plot of that episode and reworked it to fit a longer “running time.” (To be more specific, I tried to make it fit roughly into three full-length episodes.) The changes made are rather minor up to a point, after which the plot veers far enough away from the original that, were this story canon, it would make for a very different kind of wait for Season 4. (Of course, the argument can be made that the series has been veering further and further from itself for a long while now, an argument I'm inclined to agree with.) Anyway, that's enough from me. I hope you enjoy it.
Part 1, Chapter 3: DawnPart 1 Chapter 3 – Dawn It is nearing dawn. Luna and Celestia stand on one of the many balconies of the castle, each preparing to perform their respective duties. Luna paws nervously at the stone beneath her feet; she cannot shake the unease that is persistently crawling under her skin. Twilight Sparkle, Celestia's protege, suffered nightmares tonight, and what little of them Luna tasted was pungent and distasteful, like fine wine left to sour. This unease... she thinks perhaps she has felt this before. It is a sensation she should remember. “Be careful this morning, sister,” she says as she lowers the moon over the horizon. “Many bad dreams last night.” She adds, a bit too quickly, “Your bodyguards dreamed you were actually the changeling queen.” Celestia laughs, and Luna feels some of the tension loosen within her breast. Perhaps her sometimes overactive imagination is simply getting the better of her. “Why don't you ever refer to anypony by their name, Luna? They ARE your friends and subjects, after all.” “They're YOUR friends and subjects, sister. They would do anything for you. They're hardly MY anything.” Celestia gives her a teasing, knowing look, and it is all Luna can do to keep a straight face. Still too perceptive by half, her sister. Together, the two princesses begin taking down the stars, pulling them one by one out of the night sky. This is one of the few things that Luna and Celestia do together. It began simply enough, as a means of easing both princesses into roles they had abandoned a millennium ago. Yet despite the two years that have passed, despite having fully reclaimed her powers as princess of the night, Luna still insists that they share this particular duty. Perhaps she still doubts her abilities. Perhaps she fears she will relapse into the jealousy that nearly tore their kingdom apart. Or perhaps she just cherishes the quiet conversations with her sister that this activity affords, now more than ever. Whatever the reason, her sister has yet to object. “Luna,” Celestia says, not stopping in her work, “I know for a fact you love watching what they dream up while they're sleeping.” Luna pauses. “Well... I admit there is some small joy in knowing everypony's deepest secret.” Celestia looks at her again, scandalized. Luna keeps her expression carefully schooled, and tentatively sets aside her anxiety. Nothing is the matter, she assures herself. It must be my imagination. As Celestia rises into the air, though, she locks eyes with Luna, and the lighthearted conversation dies instantly. Much can be divined from one look, and whatever goes unsaid between Luna and Celestia in this moment makes the sun goddess's ears snap forward and her head stand just a little straighter. “Dreams, you said?” Celestia's voice is neutral enough, but there it is, underlying her words: unease, like soured wine. “Twilight Sparkle, your student, suffered from one not long ago. I only caught a glimpse of it, but there was something about it. Something...” And the word that comes unbidden to her lips sends a shiver down her spine before she even utters it. “...ominous.” Another moment of silence passes before Luna repeats, “Be careful, sister.” “I will. Thank you, Luna.” With that, Celestia pulls the last star out of the sky— The world cracks sharply, and both princesses' ears fill with the sound of shattering glass. Celestia tumbles from the sky while Luna suddenly finds her footing fail her. Both cry out soundlessly against the sensation of something reaching into them and pulling— And, as quickly as it happens, it stops. For a moment, neither of them knows who or where they are. “Twilight Sparkle...” Luna barely recognizes her own voice. “Y-yes,” Celestia agrees. Her voices sounds shaky and, for the first time in a long time, afraid. “We need the Elements of Harmony.” She is up to her feet in seconds, Luna moments behind her. Their guards do not come when called, however. Neither do their servants, nor their messengers. “Strato Sphere!” Celestia commands. The silence that follows digs into Luna in a way she didn't think possible; only a second passes before Celestia marches loudly to the door, but in that second, Luna is back on the moon, back in the emptiness, the coldness, the perpetual... silence. She is waiting for the prophesied time, the malice coursing through her veins like something old, and powerful, and wild. And there is the taste on her tongue of soured wine. Her sister has thrown open the chamber door and is berating Strato Sphere, who looks as if he has just woken from a dream. A dream. Luna wishes this were a dream. A dream like Twilight's. Twilight's dream. A dream of Ponyville at dawn. She, the night, on one side. And on the other, the sun, and Celestia— It would be so easy, she hears herself say. Just a bit of magic, Princess of the Night, and aim it at her. Just a small bit of revenge. What is revenge compared to a thousand years of imprisonment for the crime of wanting to be loved? So easy. It would be so easy. And so right. Luna can't believe how right this feels. She readies the spell, points it almost nonchalantly... All you wanted was to be loved, Princess. Yes—no. No, this isn't right. She doesn't want this. Luna stumbles backwards, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. She is past all this. She is Nightmare Moon no more. Nightmare Moon no more. Nightmare Moon no more. Nightmare Moon no more... She repeats this mantra, and slowly, things come back into focus. Celestia and Strato Sphere's voices, first. The sounds of the night second. Then the smell of morning grass, and cool stone beneath her hooves. And finally, her vision, which was until a moment ago filled with nothing but twinkling lights upon a black canvas. She keeps her eyes glued to her elder sister. Her sister, who was and is the cornerstone of her life. Her sister, who rules over the sun as she rules over the moon. Her sister, whose reign is magnificent and just. Her sister, whose... whose... Whose cutie mark has changed. “Sister,” Luna says, and there is no hiding her consternation now. She points at her sister's flank, which is distinctly bare. “Your cutie mark is gone.” -_-_-_- Part 1, Chapter 3 END Author's Note Sorry for the long wait. Will try to get to the end of this first episode by the season 4 premiere.
Part 1, Chapter 4: What My Cutie Mark Is Telling MePart 1 Chapter 4 – What My Cutie Mark is Telling Me “Twilight! You gotta help us!” cries a passing pony. “What's going on?” Twilight asks in return, giving the pony's rump a puzzled look as a white-hot sizzle of lightning lances across the sky. The wind whips wildly around the village, throwing up seemingly random clouds of dust and foliage. In the distance, she makes out the faint white outline of snow on the roofs of houses, and in another direction, the sky darkens into jagged lines of sleet. The clouds producing them loom overhead, arranged in what could almost be called a neat checkerboard pattern. (Wrong, wrong, wrong, something inside her complains.) “It's Rarity! She's gone crazy!” another pony explains, pausing just long enough to point in the direction of the bridge leading out of town before another bolt of lightning sends her scampering away. Twilight stares at the pony's cutie mark for a moment as well, then takes off immediately toward the bridge, ordering ponies to find shelter as they panic around her. (It's all wrong, and you have to do something about it! she hears again.) She spots Rarity right where the pony said. “Rarity!” she yells, skidding to a halt at the base of the bridge. Rarity stands amidst a crowd of other unicorns and earth ponies; the unicorns seem to be focusing their magic at the sky above, while the earth ponies trot anxiously. Twilight frowns at their cutie marks, just like she did with everypony else, but she can't quite seem to put her hoof on what looks so off and why... Her white-maned friend spots her almost immediately and pushes her way through the crowd. “Twilight! Positively perfect timing! Can you—Twilight?” It's another dream, it's another dream, it's another dream, Twilight tells herself. It has to be a dream, because there's no way this can happen. But try as she might, the pitter patter of rain on her coat and the sound of thunder above and the sight of Rarity's cutie mark is all too real. Still, she taps the multicolored lightning bolt twice just to make sure, and again on the other side to make doubly sure. “What are you doing? What happened to your cutie mark?” she blurts out. Two of a quickly growing number of questions. Like “why do you have Rainbow Dash's cutie mark?” or “when did this happen?” or “who are those other ponies and what are they doing?”. Actually, speaking of whom, where IS Rainbow Dash? “Whatever do you mean, Twilight?” Rarity responds, almost offended. “I'm simply doing what I've done since the day it first appeared. Does my sky look fabulous or what?” She gives a hard, judging sneer to the crowd of ponies assembled on the bridge. “If only THOSE simpletons would leave me to do my work, but NO, they have to 'play their part.' Argh! I mean, really, Twilight, do they not understand how artiste fashion is?” “Rarity, what are you talking about? You're a dress-maker, not a weather pony!” Rarity scoffs. “The term is FASHION DESIGNER, Twilight. And of course I'm a weather pony! Don't you see the—” She pauses for a moment and shakes her head. “I mean... I...” Twilight watches intently as Rarity's eyes take on a far-away look, her mouth hanging slightly open. Then she shakes her head again, the glow of her horn ceases, and she lists slightly before catching herself. “I... You're right, Twilight. I... I AM a fashion designer. But... But... my cutie mark.” Rarity motions to it with one foreleg. “I-I MUST be a weather pony. It's what my cutie mark is telling me!” One more bolt of lightning strikes mere meters from where the two of them stand, followed by another, and another. Twilight feels the energy of the lightning strikes deep in her bones. “First things first! We have to clear these skies!” she shouts over the loud ringing in her ears. “How!?” “Follow me!” She heads back to the group on the bridge. “Are you all the weather team!?” With the way they look at her, she may as well have asked if they were ponies. She tries again. “Were you all weather ponies yesterday!?” “Of co—” “Yeah! Wait...” “Duh, Twilight—What?” And just like that, the unicorns' magic stops and the lightning and wind cease, though the rainclouds and condensation still remain. Twilight sighs quietly to herself. “That's better. Now I know you're all probably very confused about your cutie marks. Believe me, so am I. But we have to take care of this weather first or else we won't be able to figure out what's going on. Okay?” All present glance around at each other nervously before hesitantly nodding. “Good. Now. One, two, three, four... eight-nine-ten... twelve-thirteen, fourteen. Is this the entire weather team?” Again, all the ponies look around at each other, some with more visible signs of panic than others. “Do any of you know how many ponies make up a weather team?” “Of course we do!” exclaims a maroon-colored earth pony. “It's... wait, no. That's right. I'm a weath—no, a grape farmer. I—aaaaaargh! I know I'm not a weather pony, but I keep telling myself I am!” “Focus, everypony. I need you all to focus as hard as you can. Try not to pay attention to what your cutie mark says, okay? Something's going on here and I'm going to get to the bottom of it, but I need all of you especially to focus. You're supposed to be in charge of the weather now, except none of you are equipped to deal with it, and you might end up hurting lots of fillies. You absolutely must NOT mess with the weather. Can you all handle that?” Their collective nods are about as enthusiastic as an aquaphobic pony crossing a stream. Still, it's the best Twilight is going to get. “Okay. Now, were there any pegasi helping you, kicking clouds?” “A few,” answers one of the unicorns. “What do you think? Three?” A murmur of yeses ripples through the crowd. Twilight cringes. Three is better than none, given the circumstances. Still, she would have liked better numbers than that. She turns to Rarity, and places what she hopes is a comforting hoof on her shoulder. “Rarity, I need you and everypony here to find them as fast as you can. They're our weather team now.” Rarity looks at her questioningly. “Where are you going, Twilight?” Twilight smiles calmly, feeling nothing at all like calm. “I'm going to find Rainbow Dash and march her down here to help.” -_-_-_- Of course, finding a pegasus is easier said than done. Rainbow Dash isn't home – Twilight doesn't actually know this (because although she could normally bring Dash's cloud house down to earth with her magic, her magic seems to be particularly lackadaisical today), but she trusts it to be true – and nobody seems to know where the wayward pegasus has run off to. Maybe Spike can help, she finally surmises after half an hour of roaming the outskirts of the village. And Owlowicious, too. After all, neither of the two have cutie marks to worry about, so they can't possibly be affected by this like the rest of Ponyville seemingly has. She really should have thought of this sooner. Who better to help her than them? Maybe Fluttershy isn't affected by whatever's going on, either. Twilight doesn't bother holding out hope, though. That just wouldn't seem right given how everything's been going today. She sets off in the direction of Fluttershy's house. -_-_-_- Or she could find Rainbow Dash there. That works, too. “Hey, Twilight,” sighs the blue pegasus when she knocks on the door. “Twilight!? TWILIGHT!” cries another familiar voice, the owner of which charges straight past Rainbow Dash and into Twilight's forelegs. “You gotta help us, Twilight! Fluttershy left me alone with Rainbow Dash and the animals and Rainbow Dash is trying to take care of them and that's never a good idea because you know how bad she is with animals and all the animals know not to trust her anymore and I think Angel might have declared a coup I don't know I don't speak bunny but now they're trashing Fluttershy's place and—” “Rainbow Dash, what are you—” Twilight begins as she picks up the panicked purple dragon onto her back, but a sudden crash from the living room interrupts her. “What in Equestria is going on in here!?” she finishes and charges into the house against Dash's protests (she notes Dash's cutie mark without surprise: butterflies). She is in no mood to see the state of carnage here – she still vividly remembers the incident with Dash dropping Tank through the cloud floor onto some poor delivery mare's head, and said mare's cart turning over, and said cart's contents spilling onto Ponyville's hapless citizens – but there is little choice in the matter. And, after a few seconds of careful observation, she utters a simple “yep,” turns around, grabs Rainbow Dash's ear firmly, and abandons Fluttershy's home to the animals. “Spike.” “U-uh-huh? What is it, Twilight?” “Can you take care of these animals?” “H-hey, Egghead! You can't expect him to do MY—” “Can you do a better job than Dash has done?” “Um... uh...” “Don't look at her. Look at me. Can you?” “Yeah, I guess. A little. Why—” “Good. I'm leaving you in charge here, then. Where's Fluttershy? Where's DISCORD? I swear to Celestia, if he's the one behind this...” “As much as it would please me to be today's mastermind, I have to sadly admit this is someone else's genius at work.” Twilight feels an eyelid twitch ever so slightly. This day just keeps getting better and better. “By the way,” the draconequus notes offhandedly, “I LOVE what you've got going on, sister.” He slaps her fondly on the flank. Twilight breathes in deeply, lest she do something like zap him into oblivion. Breath in, and out. In, and out. “What about me?” she asks calmly. “You mean you haven't noticed?” Discord laughs that smarmy kickable laugh of his. “I've been a little BUSY this morning, Discord, in case you couldn't tell. Now. What. About. Me?” “Oh, it's nothing, really. You can't even notice it, really—” “DISCORD!” “Hey, Twilight!” Spike suddenly chimes in. “Your cutie mark is gone! You're a blank flank!” Under most circumstances, this would alarm Twilight greatly. Her cutie mark is her life. Magic is her life. Without it, even if she had another cutie mark, she just would not feel the same. She would feel like a part of herself is missing. Under most circumstances. Under these circumstances, she just takes it in stride. “That explains why I haven't been able to use my magic,” she says, and that's the end of the matter. “Some chocolate milk, perhaps? Drink your sorrows away?” Discord offers. Twilight knocks the glass from his hand and doesn't bother to feel sorry for it. “Rainbow Dash!” she shouts. Rainbow Dash comes to a sudden stop just before touching the front door of Fluttershy's cottage. “Get over here now!” The tone in her voice brooks no argument. -_-_-_- “Got it, Discord? Princess Celestia wants to use your powers for good, so here's your chance to do so.” “Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” “I'm serious, Discord! I better see you clearing the skies after you're done helping Spike here!” “I Pinkie Promised, didn't I? Twilight, you're in a perplexingly foul mood. Here I am, offering my humble services. I won't even comment on the fact that surely with your magic powers, clearing the skies would be a—” “DISCORD!” “And that would be my cue. Arrivederci!” Twilight bristles quietly to herself for a moment before turning to Spike. “Think you got this under control? I know I'm putting a lot of responsibility on your shoulders, watching over Discord and all—” “Aw, just leave it to me, Twilight! Besides, if anything goes wrong, I can just send Owlowicious to get you.” “Exactly. And you said Fluttershy went over to Sugarcube Corner, right? Gee, I wonder what her cutie mark can be.” “Are you going to be okay, Twilight?” Twilight pats him on the head and tries not to let the tears well up in her eyes. He has absolutely no idea how important he is to her. Not for the first time, she promises she will cherish him forever and ever. “Thanks, Spike. There's a reason you're my number one assistant.” They share a lingering hug. She senses just how afraid he is: of Discord, of his responsibility, of this day. She feels exactly the same. They tighten their hold on each other for one more moment of comfort in each others' arms. Then he heads back into the house and she turns to Dash. “Okay, Dash. Now what are you again?” “A vet, duh. Wait! I mean... Aaargh!” “I know it's hard, Rainbow Dash, but you have to keep reminding yourself who you really are.” “Easy for you to say, Twilight. You're just a blank flank. Nothing's really changed for you. Me... I know who I am, but the moment I stop paying attention, I start to drift back here, like it's my destiny. It's what my cutie mark is telling me.” “Do you think not being able to use magic is easy for me?” she retorts with far more venom than she intended. Dash doesn't say anything for a few seconds, just follows meekly. “I guess not. Sorry, Twilight. I'm just on edge.” Twilight sighs. “I know, Dash. Me, too. Like I said, just try to focus on what you're supposed to do. Once we get back to Ponyville and you start kicking in those clouds, it'll be just like it was. Everything's going to be just fine.” “I hope you're right, Twilight.” -_-_-_- About the only consolation Twilight can find today is in the fact that the town hasn't yet burned to the ground... though it certainly did its best during her brief absence. By the time she made it back into town to check on Fluttershy, Rarity and the other “weather” unicorns had taken it upon themselves to resume unintentionally terrorizing Ponyville. Fortunately, the three pegasi she had heard about earlier had also been combating their efforts with varying levels of success. (As it turns out, two of the three pegasi had been cloud kickers even before the cutie mark switcheroo, and they managed to give the third – an astronomer named Stardancer – an almost literal crash course in weather control. Thank Celestia for small miracles.) Once Dash took to the air and Twilight bullied the unicorns back to their senses, Ponyville was back on course for a semi-normal day, for the time being. She then spent lunch at the Sugarcube Corner working crowd control for Fluttershy's rather disastrous foray into grief counseling. Whereas Pinkie Pie exuded positivity and darn near forced even the most despondent ponies into a state of perpetual joy, Fluttershy's mutterings of “cheer up, um... that is, if you want to...” and “I know you're feeling down, but, um, um... um...” could barely get a rise out of her audience at best, and roused their ire at worst. Twilight even went so far as to hide Pinkie's party cannon after Fluttershy stuffed herself into it and nearly shot herself into the Sugarcube Corner's wall. In the end, she managed to convince the shy pegasus to return home by way of “your animals need entertaining, too, right, Fluttershy? Plus, I'm sure Discord could use a good laugh right about now.” That last part was as lie as lies could be – the LAST thing needing some cheering up in this situation was Discord – but it was good enough for Fluttershy, which was good enough for her. Then it was on to Sweet Apple Acres to check on the Apple family and be less than surprised to find Pinkie Pie zipping across the fields. Twilight would have stepped in, but wonder of wonders, Pinkie actually made for a surprisingly effective apple farmer. Maybe her days on a rock farm had prepared her for this. She took no joy in the endeavor, though; her usually unkempt mane was well-groomed and orderly, and her eyes had a habit of drifting off-center on occasion, two sure signs of Pinkamena Syndrome. Of the Apple family, only Applejack and Applebloom were missing from the farm. Big Mac and Granny Smith had luckily switched cutie marks with each other, so the only odd behavior either of them exhibited was when Big Mac tried baking a pie. Applejack had apparently taken off that morning to the Carousel Boutique, but of Applebloom there was no sign. This did not and does not sit well with Twilight. The poor filly and her friends must be terrified of their new responsibilities right now. With that in mind, Twilight is back in Ponyville proper, half a block from Rarity's boutique. If anyone knows where Applebloom is, it's Applejack. Suddenly, and without reason, she yawns. That's weird, she says as she shakes herself back to full awareness. I don't FEEL tired... Then again, it HAS been a hard day... Sleep is just about the LAST thing she needs. What she needs is to check on Applejack, and then meet with Mayor Mare (or whoever is mayor now) in order to organize an emergency town hall meeting. “Excuse me. AJ, are you in here?” she asks as she opens the door to the shop. “C'mon in, Twilight,” drawls Applejack from inside the shop. “Maybe y'can help me with sumthin'.” Twilight enters the shop to find Applejack hunched over a sewing machine, scissor in one hoof and dress in the other. “I've been tryin' all day to work this darn contraption, but I—” here she grunts and bites down on the sewing machine thread, using both hoofs to awkwardly hold the scissors “—I jus' cahn do uh ting widdit.” Twilight can't help but giggle just a little bit at the sight of Applejack attempting to sew. The world may be going crazy, but that doesn't make Applejack trying to do fine work any less silly. After futilely attempting to work the scissors with her hoofs, Applejack finally throws it onto the workstation and cuts off the thread with her teeth instead, tying it into an ugly, awkward-looking knot. “Tell me, Twilight: Why can't y'all unicorns invent stuff as can be used by us normal, non-magical ponies? Because that there ain't fit to be used by a dog, much less a pony.” “You don't look too good, Applejack. Been a rough day?” Twilight asks in lieu of an answer. She fights off another yawn by stretching until she hears a series of satisfying cracks in her bones. “Y'could say that. I ain't hardly had time to take a break, I've been so busy. Lookie here at what I made.” She takes the dark turquoise dress and lays it out on a merriequin. Off-color patches dot the dress, and buttons seem to have been sewn on at random. “I think,” Applejack says after some consideration, “that it's a dress.” “Applejack, it's okay. You're not a dress-ma—a fashion designer.” “What in tarnation are ya talkin' 'bou—” If Twilight is a bit more forceful than necessary when she places her hoof in Applejack's mouth, it only speaks to how often she's had to repeat this question today. “Were you a fashion designer yesterday? Let me answer that. No, you weren't. I know you're confused. I am, too. Try to focus on who you really are. It helps for a little while. It seems everypony's cutie marks have been switched around at random. I don't know how or why. I'm trying to find Mayor Mare and get everypony together for a town hall meeting. Maybe we can figure this out. Right now I'm worried about Applebloom. Do you know where she and her friends are?” Applejack is quiet for a long time. Then she blinks. “Come again?” “I said—” Twilight falls mid-sentence. She is asleep before her body even hits the ground, leaving a very confused Applejack alone in the quiet boutique. “Um... Twilight?” -_-_-_- Part 1, Chapter 4 END Author's Note "Mannequin" has Dutch roots. The Dutch word for "mare" is "merrie." Thus, "merriequin" for the horse mannequins. I make no excuses for my butchery of language.
Part 1, Chapter 5: The DreamingPart 1 Chapter 5 – The Dreaming “Oh, this is just perfect,” Applejack grumbles. It's not enough to be stuck doing some fancy shmancy froufrou work for a living, but she now has the added burden of caring for and carrying a comatose unicorn to bed and WHERE IS RARITY'S BED IN THIS GOSH-FORSAKEN MAZE!? Twice already she has bumped Twilight's head into a wall or door, and the second time might not have been entirely on accident. “Where where where—ah! Finally!” She plops Twilight down onto the bed, wraps the blanket around her, and, for lack of a better thing to do, she waits. In her waiting, she manages to rustle up some tea from Rarity’s kitchen for when Twilight awakens, as well as some biscuits and treats. Then it’s back to dress-making, which feels like such a chore today. What did Twilight say? Something about cutie marks and switching jobs? Switching jobs sounds like a horrible idea. If everypony in Ponyville switched their jobs for other ponies’ jobs, the entire world would probably fall into chaos, to say nothing of the town. Oh, well. Applejack is sure if it’s important, Twilight will tell her again when she wakes up. More importantly, where in blazes is Applebloom? she wonders as she runs chalk across a silk sheet. That filly better not be hanging out with Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo in this weather. Speaking of which, what are the weather teams thinking? She can hear the wind knocking against the carousel like a wolf huffing and puffing, when Dash very specifically told her that it would be lots of sunshine today. She was supposed to get in an entire day’s worth of apple-bucking, for cryin’ out loud! Apple-bucking... The chalk suddenly drops from her hoof, as do the needles pursed between her lips. Cutie marks, jobs switching, the weather going bonkers, and her not bucking apples – everything quickly clicks. “Twilight!” She races through the boutique, around turns that would have been nothing to Rarity but which confound her for what she now knows is a good reason, until finally bursting through to Rarity’s bedroom, where Twilight— “What in tarnation!?” A piercing white light emanates from the bed, so bright that Twilight can no longer be made out at its epicenter. Applejack shields her eyes from it even as she stumbles toward the bed. She has no idea what is happening to Twilight, but she’ll be darned if she lets her friend face it alone. As she gets closer, she begins to make out Twilight faintly. The light is so bright, even this close to Twilight—but no, it is more than just that. Applejack can see THROUGH Twilight, see the bedding and the pillows beneath her sleeping form. Whatever that light is, it is taking Twilight away. “Like hay you do!” she yells at it, as if that will do any good, and grabs a hold of Twilight’s foreleg. For a moment, she expects her hoof to pass right through Twilight, but the unicorn’s body feels as solid and real as it ever did before. Applejack has but a moment to appreciate this small comfort before the light explodes into white and sound, and when it disappears from the room, both ponies are gone. -_-_-_- “Applejack?” She feels something nudge her shoulder. Her tired, waking eyes make out a purple hoof, attached to a purple leg, to a purple body and purple hair and purple... “Twilight?” Applejack whispers as she shakes herself awake. “Where are we? Last I remember, we were in Rarity’s shop...” “You are in the Dreaming,” answers a familiar voice from behind Twilight. A midnight-colored coat and hair twinkling with starlight...“I apologize if the trip startled you, Applejack. I needed to speak with Twilight Sparkle, and this was the only way I could do so. I did not know you would be joining us. Things have been in chaos at Canterlot, as I’m sure they must be in Ponyville.” “What’s going on, Princess? Are you an’ Princess Celestia alright?” “We’re fine, Applejack. Thank you. I was just talking to Twilight here about what’s been going on.” “Do you remember what I told you, AJ? About the cutie marks?” Applejack concentrates. There’s surely something in her mind about cutie marks, jobs, and... and apple-bucking, of all things. She knows it was important at one time, but like a stick of butter, it keeps slipping out of her grasp. “I reckon you must’ve said sumthin’, Twi, but I can’t for the life of me remember what it was.” “Everypony I ran into this morning said the same thing. Whatever switched our cutie marks around must also be affecting our memories.” “Switched our cutie marks? Who coulda done such a thing?” Then, a silent spell later, “How come you ain’t affected, Twilight?” Twilight blinks. “Come again?” “Seems like only you and the Princesses are having no problem remembering what all our cutie marks should be as opposed to what they are.” “It took my sister and I considerable amounts of magic to overcome the effects of this affliction. Perhaps Twilight did the same?” This Luna says with a questioning glance Twilight’s way. Twilight shakes her head. “No... No, I woke up this morning and my cutie mark was switched around just like everypony else’s, but...” She takes in a breath and sighs it out. “...but since my special talent IS magic, I guess once my cutie mark disappeared, so did my magic. So even if I knew how, I couldn’t have reversed whatever happened to my cutie mark like you did.” Applejack notices the way Twilight rubs one hoof with the other, how her voice hitches ever so slightly, and steps closer to place a steadying hoof on her neck. Twilight smiles gratefully. Luna frowns. “That should not be. Other unicorns can still use magic. Your magic might be weakened, but there’s no reason it should be gone entirely. Are you sure?” “I’m positive. I couldn’t even brush my mane this morning. At the time I thought I was just tired, but—Actually...” “Twi?” “What happened in your dream, Twilight?” Applejack and Twilight both turn to the princess, the former with curiosity and the latter with shock. “How did you know I had a—” “I am princess of the night, and we are in the Dreaming.” “Oh, right. I... wait... no.” Twilight furrows her brow and taps silently with a back hoof as she thinks. Applejack backs away, trying not to let her growing nerves show; she knows Twilight works best with some space, but the purple unicorn’s habit of thinking to herself for extended periods of time never fails to instill a great deal of anxiety in Applejack. After what feels like eons, Twilight finally, hesitantly ventures, “I... had a dream about the sky. I was in the town square, watching it change from night to day and back again.” As she speaks, strange forms take shape in the darkness of the Dreaming: looming silhouettes on all sides that coalesce into the buildings of Ponyville. Above them, stars blink into existence, and the sheer black bleeds into shades of purple and blue. Twilight walks through the sleeping town with her eyes closed in concentration. Applejack and Luna follow. When they reach the town center, they come upon Twilight, sitting and watching the world change from night to day and back again. “Is this it?” Luna asks. Applejack watches the dream Twilight's shadow as it dances back and forth like something alive. “Yes—no—Yes. Yes, that's all,” Twilight resolves, the dreamworld around them flickering back and forth between the Ponyville exterior and Golden Oak Library. “I remember because afterward, I woke up and received that book from Princess Celes—no no no. That didn't... Did it?” The Dreaming spasms: Ponyville homes rise from bookshelves; some windows reveal the swirling sky outside, others peer into the bedrooms of sleeping ponies; a draft bends the candlelight sideways, casting a shadow of the town well against the walls. “Twi? You okay, hun?” Applejack comforts Twilight again, and eases away some of the minute vibrations. (She notices out of the corner of her eye that something is off about Twilight's cutie mark, but dismisses it as quickly as she sees it.) “Neither my sister nor I sent you any book, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna remarks warily. “What happened next?” When Twilight does not answer, the princess sternly stamps at the ground. “Twilight, look at me.” Twilight does as told, her eyes wide and more frightened than anything Applejack has ever seen. She doesn't seem to notice the Dreaming, even as it shifts so that they now stand on the stairs of Twilight's library. A door knock sounds from downstairs. “What happened next?” Luna demands. “The book had instructions in it for a spell, and the letter told me I had to complete it, so I... I...” Downstairs, Twilight flips randomly through the book. “From one to another, another to one—” “Stop it!” Twilight screams, finally tearing her eyes from Luna's to rush at the doppleganger down below. The dream world crumbles into dust, leaving her thrashing at a harmless cloud of smoke. When she has finished, she drops to her knees and breaks into sobs. “You cast the spell,” Luna says. “It was just a dream!” Twilight responds, as if Luna has accused her of something. She snaps around to confront them, only to immediately shrink away. “It was just a dream,” she repeats insistently. “It was... It was just... It was just a dream. “This is all my fault.” “Princess Luna, what's Twilight mean, this is her fault? What happened?” Luna, her eyes trained on Twilight, mumbles a quiet non-answer: “The Dreaming exists between all things, and all things visit the Dreaming.” Her brow furrows as a distasteful thought presents itself. “A dream inside a dream, and inside that dream a spell. A spell to change the waking world—no. A spell to change Destiny itself. And the walls of the Dreaming are thin; sometimes things bleed through...” There's a reason Applejack was born an earth pony and not a unicorn; all this talk of dreaming and spells and destiny may as well be gibberish for all she can wrap her brain around it. It's never simple with these magical types, is it? Always incantation this or ancient prophecy that. Or maybe Luna and Twilight are just two peas in a pod. She listens without listening for a bit longer, until a sound in the emptiness other than their combined breathing catches her ear. It almost sounds like... whispering? “Twilight?” she says to the unicorn curled into a ball at her hooves. “It smells,” Twilight says again, more loudly this time. “It didn't smell just a moment ago. Did it?” Luna takes a sniff of the dream air and frowns. “No, it did not,” she confirms. Something in her voice causes Applejack's ears to snap forward. She sucks in a deep breath as well, but to her the air is as lifeless as when they arrived. Still, she knows better than to doubt her two magically-attuned ponies. Incantations and ancient prophecies and all. Luna glances around agitatedly. Her horn brims with magic. “Stand up, Twilight Sparkle.” Her voice is strong, commanding, and laced with fear. “The walls of the Dreaming are thin...” “...and sometimes things bleed through,” Twilight finishes as she stands with assistance from Applejack. “What is it, Princess Luna?” “I don't know. But bringing you here was a mistake. Come, let us—” Ponyville bursts into existence once again and makes them all jump. Twilight leans more heavily on Applejack, who holds her more tightly in return. The moon takes shape in the sky to their right, then the sun to their left. Something sounds in the distance, at the edge of hearing. “Are you doing this, Twilight?” Luna asks. “This is my dream again,” Twilight says, “but I didn't do this. Or at least I don't think—Do you hear that? It sounds like laughter.” “I do.” “Yeah, me too. I really wish I couldn't.” Just then, a burst of light signals another pony's entrance to the Dreaming. Applejack and Luna immediately take positions to shield Twilight, but they soon lower their guard. “I'm glad I made it in time,” Princess Celestia exclaims as she trots to them. “Are you all alright?” “We're fine, sister. What are you doing here? How go things at Canterlot?” Celestia shakes her head to the questions. “Luna, you must take Twilight and Applejack away from here. They are in grave danger.” Twilight steps forward. “Princess Celestia, about the cutie marks... Last night, I—” “I know, Twilight.” Twilight blinks. Luna has a similar look of surprise. Applejack has been confused for a while now. “You do?” Twilight asks. “Yes. And I'm afraid the fault is all mine.” “Sister?” Celestia takes a moment to think. Applejack sees the impossible speed with which thoughts streak through her eyes; a thousand thousand thoughts in an instant, like seeing eternity in every blink. “Take this.” She pulls a rough, stony black key seemingly from the very fabric of the Dreaming and hands it to Twilight, who takes it hesitantly. “Do you remember the palace's northernmost garden?” Twilight nods. “At the base of the old poplar tree is a locked door. Open it with this key, and read everything inside. Can I trust you to do this?” Twilight nods. “Good. Now go.” With a flick of her head, the princess wills three portals into existence, then ushers her ponies to them. Applejack is more than ready to leave. She is an earth pony, and she needs to feel the grass beneath her feet. This world of spooky shadows and tasteless air was never designed for ponies such as her. Her fur coat bristles at the constant, drumming undertone of manic laughter. She can hear it everywhere, can feel it deep in her bones like a parasite writhing through the core of an apple. When she was younger, she took care of one of Winona's siblings, a beautiful but premature pup named Brandy, as it slowly withered away. Despite her and Big Mac's attentive care, Brandy died two nights after being born. She remembers the desperation that gripped her as Brandy went colder and colder to the touch. She remembers the inevitability. That's what she feels right now, pressing in on her as she waits anxiously for the three most powerful ponies in all of Equestria. Inevitability. -_-_-_- “Won't you at least tell us who or what is behind all this?” Twilight demands as she steps gingerly toward the portal, dark key in hoof. She clenches her nostrils against the increasing stench in the air. The laughter has grown louder, too; she remembers now how in her dream it seemed to rise up from everywhere at once. Old, and powerful, and wild. She tries not to think about what happened after that, or what will happen now. “Someone old, very old,” Princess Celestia explains quickly as she rushes them to the portal. “A nemesis of ours from when I was still a unicorn.” “You were once a unicorn?” Twilight asks, a million other questions forming in her head before the words leave her lips. Princess Celestia smiles a small smile. “Were you a unicorn once, too, Luna?” Luna does not smile. She only peers at her sister with questioning eyes. “Now, Twilight.” Something in the princess's voice makes her instantly jump to attention. Not that she isn't normally attentive, but her attention this time has nothing to do with learning more about magic. There is love in that voice, but also something more, something that makes her heart seize with panic and sorrow. “You know what happens at the end of this dream. You've seen it before. You know how powerful she is.” (And how old, and how wild.) “And you know that she wants you, and only you. You know you have to leave.” And as each sentence leaves her mouth, they become true. Twilight makes a half-hearted protest, because she also knows what else is in Celestia's voice now, but the princess shoos her into the portal with a kind smile upon her face, and Applejack pushes her through, and the white overtakes her, and she wakes up. -_-_-_- In the dark, Luna looks upon Celestia and sees the machinations of a cruel and unfair world. Far off in the distance, where the Dreaming ends and a darker, emptier world begins, she can see a star flickering dimly. The stench wafting from that border brings with it the memory of a thousand years of isolation and resentment, all unleashed in one terrific night of vengeance. The starlight in the distance calls to her, beckons for her return. “So many things to say, so little time,” Celestia whispers, touching her forehead to Luna's the way she did so many eons ago, when they were younger and more naïve. They are older now, and not so naïve, and the heaviness of an inexorable fate weighs heavily on their shoulders. She says nothing, just memorizes the look and feel of her older sister's face. Celestia's horn glows palely, drawing Luna's own power to the surface against her will. “Sister, what are you—” The magic washes over her like silk being dragged across her soul; she feels a snap as something unlocks deep inside. Then another, and another, and suddenly the ghost of an image flickers behind her eye: She and Celestia sit with four others in a loose circle, a small smile on her face and open laughter on her sister's. She toys idly at the Element of Harmony on her neck; it feels new and awkward. Then another: She watches from a cloud as Chrysalis tries to teach Celestia how to fly. Her sister follows the changeling into an updraft, and as the two trace an arc across the face of the sun, she marvels at how gossamer fairy wings can scatter the sunlight into so many colors. And another: She stares up into her sister's sad eyes, and at the night sky above her. Celestia looks so beautiful with the crown on her head; it turns the light just so. Something churns inside her like a writhing pestilence, and when she breathes she smells something sour and tangy. She must endure it; she must be brave. It is only a thousand years, she tells herself, and nods. She's ready. Luna nearly stumbles as the visions flicker about, but her sister catches her and holds on tightly as thousands of years of a forgotten life settles into her mind. “You're alright, Luna,” Celestia says before letting go. “I imagine the next few days will be very trying for you, Twilight, and all of Equestria. You'll all turn out fine, though. You are all far more resilient than you can possibly imagine.” Luna wants to tell her differently, that they won't be able to survive the change to come without her, but the jumble of images in her head tell her Celestia is right, even if she can't work out why just yet. She leaves her sister's side for the final time and steps into the portal. The warm light of the sun pools around her, and then the Dreaming gives way to white. -_-_-_- When she steps out into the Ponyville evening, Luna has tears in her eyes. She should have said something, there at the end. So many things to say, indeed. One would think that she of all ponies could fully appreciate the pain of losing words to time and no longer let them go unspoken. No lingering, she tells herself as she sucks in a breath of cold, frosty Ponyville air. What's past is past. Now. Come back to now. The weather has shifted to winter in this part of town: the streets are deserted, and many of the houses seem to have been abandoned for warmer neighborhoods. In the snow, not far away, two fresh sets of hoof prints lead to Rarity's boutique across the way. She breathes another lungful of air, deeper and more calmly this time, until Ponyville and reality fills her entire body, then breathes out, and all her unspoken words echo out into the world. The staleness of the Dreaming, the laughter, and her sister's final farewell, all of it gets flushed away. Luna follows the hoof prints through the snow. -_-_-_- Part 1, Chapter 5 END Author's Note Well, Season 4 came and passed. What a spectacularly dull ending for that one, too. Seems I'll have to pick up the pace if I'm to catch up. Here's hoping. And as always, thanks very much for any comments and criticism!
Part 1, Chapter 2: And It is Old, and Powerful, and WildPart 1 Chapter 2 – And It is Old, and Powerful, and Wild -_-_-_- Twilight dreams. She sits alone, in the center of Ponyville, staring at her shadow. There's nothing wrong with her shadow; it just moves is all, and only as much as most shadows usually move. It starts on her left, long and transparent, then circles around her, below her, to her right, and back again. This pattern continues for several minutes (days? years?) before she realizes what's happening and looks up at the sky. It's like watching the Princesses work in fast forward. The sun streaks across the sky in a matter of seconds, then the world bleeds away to make room for the moon and its cavalcade of constellations and stars. Their movement is hypnotic, like watching a pendulum the size of the earth. Twilight feels herself falling asleep again. She could watch the world move forever... As Twilight's eyes droop, she hears something, at the very edge of her senses, like laughter. -_-_-_- Knock knock. Do you not know what time it is!? Twilight grumbles irritably into her blanket. It's nearly midnight! The entire town should be asleep! Whoever it is knocks again, and Twilight throws off the blanket in frustration. “Spike! Can you get the door!?” But then she remembers: Spike is spending the night at Fluttershy's. Apparently he's getting to know their pets quite well now. Well, she's glad for him. But it does make waking up in the middle of the night to entertain strange and unconscientious guests a chore. Knock kno— “I'm coming!” she shouts a bit too sharply. When she gets downstairs and opens the door, she lets the mailmare know how very displeased she is. She doesn't even ask what the items are; she just signs the paperwork, snatches them from his bag, and curtly closes the door on him. What is this, what is this, what is... Hm? A letter from Celestia? That's odd; she would have expected such a thing to come through Sp—oh, that's right. But still, what is so urgent that the Princess had it delivered to her in the middle of the night? “'Dear Twilight Sparkle,'” she reads out loud, more to keep herself awake than anything else. “'The spell contained on the last page of this book is Star Swirl the Bearded's secret unfinished masterpiece.'” She takes a moment to express her appreciation. “'He was never able to get it right, and thus abandoned it. I believe you are the only pony who can understand and re-write it. Princess Celestia.'” Why would Princess Celestia want her to finish a centuries-old spell, especially now? Certainly the Princess's magic is several magnitudes more powerful than even her own, as well as her wisdom. Celestia could do this in her sleep. Why have me do it? Does she have something planned for me? Maybe she wants to turn me into an alicorn like her and Luna? She giggles at the thought. Twilight Sparkle the alicorn! Well, whatever it is, she trusts Celestia's judgement. Twilight flips quietly through the large book – just because she knows where the spell is doesn't mean she can't read for reading's sake – but after only a few pages finds it lacking. Blank page. Flip. Blank page. Flip. Blank page. She knows this should alarm her – Star Swirl was as meticulous and thorough with his writing as she is with hers, and he would never leave an entire book bereft when they could be filled with spells – but it doesn't, and soon enough she's come to the final page: In the primal broth, form the sign of the Family, then sprinkle a cherry blossom petal dipped in blue sheep's milk and wreathed in the light of the sun. Stir with the feather of a flightless pegasus. Add the eye of a hurricane, and at the moment of spell's realization, pour into a diamond flask. Store on the bridge between the self and the world, and release while reciting: “From one to another, another to one: A mark of one's destiny singled out, alone, fulfilled.” Twilight feels the magics eddying within her, feels them form in her mind's eye into an almost palpable singularity – the spell. It rests just behind her consciousness, pooling into the bridge between herself and the world – her horn. Then she releases it in time with her recitation, the words of the incantation speeding it along, adding to it, augmenting it as it crosses the gulf between the worlds— Nothing happens. Did she do it wrong? No, she felt the spell. There was nothing wrong with it. Even if she had done it wrong, there would be some backlash, some sort of... SOMETHING. You can't just cast a spell and have nothing happen. Magic 101: “We deform the universe. THAT'S responsibility.” To have a spell work but do nothing... it just doesn't happen! But... Maybe it really is nothing, she tells herself after a moment. Maybe that's why Star Swirl abandoned it. But if that's the case, then what is it SUPPOSED to do? If she knew that, at least she could know what to look for... “Ugh,” she laments, with a mixture of disappointment and exhaustion. “I can't think like this. I'll figure it out in the morning.” She takes a step— -_-_-_- —and wakes up abruptly. She is still sitting in the middle of Ponyville, still dreaming of the shifting sky. It lulled her into a sleep, she realizes sheepishly, with its monotonous motion and captivating play of lights. She stands up and shakes herself free of the strange dream about a letter and a spell. And as she does so, she notices something very peculiar about her shadow: It has stopped moving. Then she looks upward and realizes why. The sky is split into two, with the moon setting into the night sky on her right and the sun rising into a bright day on her left. She is staring at the precise moment in between. The dawn. Then she hears it again: laughter so faint as to barely pull at the edge of her hearing, but growing louder. It seems to be coming from everywhere at once. And it is old, and powerful, and wild. Then something turns the lights off and Twilight screams. -_-_-_- When she awakens, Twilight clutches Smarty Pants to her and cries in her bed the way she did as a filly. She is terrified of opening her eyes to find herself in another dream, and equally terrified to close them and do the same. She wants her mother to hold her and tell her everything's okay, it was just a dream, silly filly, it can't hurt you. At one point, she is convinced she is finally awake, and half an instant later she is convinced that she is only dreaming that she is awake. She stays that way for a long while, holding onto the small reality of her doll, until long after the final cobwebby tendrils of sleep abandon her. She eventually looks at the clock and, seeing how late in the day it is, finds enough confidence to drag herself out of bed. She is absolutely exhausted; the sleep last night did her no good at all, apparently. Little wonder, that. Her morning routine takes longer than usual. She can't muster up enough energy to use her magic – in fact, she can scarcely feel her magic at all – so it's back to fumbling in the bathroom, brush in one hoof and small mirror in the other. Breakfast tastes terrible, partly because she only has enough effort for oats and water and partly because she manages to spill her water into her oats and she hates soggy oats. After suffering through breakfast, Twilight decides to go for a walk. Maybe the sun will cheer her up some, she thinks. The main wing of the library is thankfully mostly free of clutter; the only things in her way are the letter and book Princess Celestia sent her last night, which she briskly kicks out of the way. All in all, a terrible start to the day. So, of course, it should come to pass that the moment Twilight opens her front door, she is greeted by pandemonium of the highest order. -_-_-_- Author's Note A brief note: My headcanon is that Cadence isn't an alicorn. Because that's a plotline I'd also love to rewrite. (I'd like to rewrite a lot of Seasons 2 and 3, actually.) I'm debating whether to inject that bit of headcanon into the story or not. Maybe I should just ignore it? Hmmm... Also, I didn't mention this in the previous A/N (though I suppose it goes without saying), but I'd love to get some feedback, constructive or otherwise. How do you think it holds up compared to the original? Do you like the direction it's going? Is the writing any good? How would YOU remake MMC, if at all? Anyway. Thanks again.
