Platform horseshoes.

Applejack closed her eyes, Much to her chagrin, she found herself welcoming the urgings of her Muse. Welcoming them! Welcome was the last emotion she thought she’d be feeling towards her Muse. Especially… especially since...

...Well, with everything that’d been happening these past couple days, what with her and Sweetie Belle and Spike going out to where the Diamond Dogs were, her Muse had fallen mercifully quiet. When her Gem Hunches had reawoken inside herself, it’d felt like a good omen. By the time she’d gotten all her bejeweled dresses up on those ponyquins, she had been convinced that this just might’ve silenced it for good!

Platform horseshoes. Platform horseshoes. Platform horseshoes. Platform horseshoes.

And then, just moments ago… that troglodyte of a walk-in customer! Plucking her jewels off that dress she’d labored so hard to sew! Like grapes off a grape stem!

Now she had a good-for-nothing baby dragon wailing and hammering his fist on the other side of her boutique’s door, begging to be let back inside. Wanting to lead her to another soul-crushing failure.

“Please, Applejack, please!”

So at this moment, it was a rare relief to have her Muse back inside her head. Taking the reigns. Monopolizing her mind. Drowning out all other distractions, loud as ever…

You will make a line of platform horseshoes designed to enhance their wearer’s height by three feet and ten inches. Except for that of the left foreleg; that one shall be four feet, one inch, making them always in a dynamic pose! You shall use hobnails, all glued together, to make these horseshoes of yours, for a standout statement that will have heads turning and tongues wagging.

“PLEASE, AJ! Don’t shut me out!” the voice of Spike begged from outside. Applejack’s door rattled from the pounding.

Platform horseshoes. Platform horseshoes. Platform horseshoes are what you will now focus on making. You will now make platform horseshoes. Hobnails will be what you will use for these horseshoes. You will find glue.

“We can still make this work!” Spike was yelIf you have run out of glue, you shall need to leave the house for a brief timespan and shop at the store and buy more for the sake of making these platform horsesh“Don’t give up on yourself like thi!You will use this glue to unify these many hobnails together into horseshoe shapes. And then you will glue more hobnails onto this base and “Don’t give up on MEEEEEthen paint all the right foreleg platform horseshoes and left hindleg platform horseshoes to be boysenberry-colored.

Applejack felt like a pincushion welcoming the pins back inside her as she rose up, away from Spike and towards her storage room. She was pretty sure she still had enough boxes of hobnails left over from the time her Muse had her make pantyhose.

Whilst the right hindleg platform horseshoes are to be colored cinereous. The left foreleg platform horseshoes are to be left unpainted. Twelve tablespoons of milk of magnesia are to be stirred into each can of paint you use for the platform horseshoes, for an ultra-modern finish with serious it-girl flair.

Three-seventeen came to Applejack before she even knew it, and with it came her sister, Sweetie Belle. She didn’t even respond when she heard her store’s bell jingle, though when her little sister called out, “Applejack! Hey, Applejack!” Applejack stopped and looked up as Sweetie entered the room.

“Did ya have an okay school day, Sweetie?” she asked.

But the look in Sweetie Belle’s eyes wasn’t that of a filly with school on the brain. “Why’s the Carousel Boutique’s sign You will focus on your workbeen switched to CLOSED?”

She blinked, shaking her head, attempting to push away the muse’s interruptions and focus for a moment on her sister. As she shrugged out of her school saddlebags, there was so much disapproval Sweetie Belle was affixing on her. Applejack steeled herself, stopping from flinching or frowning at the audible venom.

“Cuz customers ain’t welcome jest yet,” she said with a haughty sniff. “Not that that’s any concern of yers, Sweetie.”

“Ain’t…” After an eye roll, Sweetie Belle restarted her sentence, “...didn’t any of Spike’s dresses sell?”

Now, that cut. Applejack did allow her irritation to show as a scowl crossed her face. She picked up one of the hobnailed horseshoes and dropped it in one of the cans of boysenberry-colored paint. Hobnails were absolute murder on the mouth.

“Ah’ll have yew know them dresses were mine. Mah design. Mah making! Mine from the start! That dragon baby just had a dumb notion.”

“But did the dresses sell?” Sweetie persisted, eyeing all the ponyquins closest to the storefront windows. They were all bare, these ponyquins, none wearing a bejeweled dress.

“All a’ ‘em sold,” the elder sister had to admit. “But You will wrap up this insipidly unfashionable conversation. that ain’t the point.” She twitched slightly.

“That’s… funny,” Sweetie Belle said, with what had to be the unfunniest, narrowest look of watchfulness her eyes were capable of. Aimed at the platform horseshoes Applejack was making. “I figured that was the point. Selling dresses. Not just making them, but selling them. Since you’re running a business. And no one will see them outside of your shop unless someone buys them. Nor will you be able to afford to make more if you don’t sell them. And Spike helped you to do all that. Super-unselfishly. But now, where is he?”

Applejack wasn’t liking this at all; no sir, no ma’am. The longer she and Sweetie talked, the more Applejack felt like she was being cross-examined in a courthouse. Or grilled by a police detective.

The silence hung in the air. “You’re avoiding the question, AJ.” Sweetie stated, with a stamp of her little white hoof. “Where is he?”

“Ah don’t believe Ah’m liking the tone a’ yer voice, li’l lady.” AJ let her know, as she bent down and retrieved the horseshoe she’d dropped inside the paint can. Boysenberry-colored paint dribbled all down her muzzle.

A happy hammering on the door drew both sisters’ attention away from each other.

“Sorry! We’re closed!” Applejack called to the person outside, dipping her muzzle quickly into a large bucket of clean water.

“We ain’t here ta shop, Miz AJ!” answered the voice of little Apple Bloom. “We jest wanna pick up Sweetie Belle!”

AJ’s younger sister unlocked the door for her friends. The other two Cutie Mark Crusaders scampered in.

“Yew fillies look like yer goin’ butterfly catching.” Applejack noted, screwing a look of pleasantness onto her face. Scootaloo and Apple Bloom certainly had those sorts of nets strapped to their saddlebags. The extra one sticking out of Apple Bloom’s saddlebags was probably meant for Sweetie Belle.

“Butterflies, grasshoppers, inchworms… any kinda awesome-cool insect will do!” Scootaloo declared, grinning like a Wonderbolt.

“We’re gonna get our cutie marks in bug catching!” agreed Apple Bloom. “Ya ready, Sweetie?”

The younger and elder sister traded looks. Applejack was honestly of half a mind to forbid it from happening; to tell Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, ‘Sorry, but Sweetie Belle’s been disrespectful to me, so as punishment, you two are gonna have to go have fun without her.'

However, that’d mean keeping her here, and she really would rather not have the distraction. Instead, Applejack said, “Ah think some time outside with yer friends sounds like jest the ticket! Maybe a good seven hours, Ah’m sure that’ll git yer cutie mark on ya! Go on! Git yerself some crickets!”

It wasn’t long, but the glance Sweetie Belle gave her was both scornful and pitying. Almost before it could register, Sweetie’s attitude brightened as she told Apple Bloom, “You bet I’m ready!”

“CUTIE MARK CRUSADER BUG CATCHERS! YAY!” they all exclaimed, before galloping out to whatever swamp the bugs were thickest in. Applejack wouldn’t know herself. She was far too urbane of a lady.

Before she stepped out and closed the door, Sweetie Belle glanced back. “We’ll talk about this later,” she said in a tone that reminded Applejack of their mother when she was particularly disappointed in one of them. Before she could respond, Sweetie was out the door.

Why, that disrespectful little filNew idea. New inspiration. interrupted Applejack’s Muse, about three hours into producing her platform horseshoes. Quelle idée merveilleusement ingénieuse cela est!

Applejack sat herself down and listened, because what other choice did she even have?

You will now create an elongated georgette maxi skirt. The pattern on the maxi skirt shall be inspired by expressionist frescoes painted on foreign continents. A larger number of them will be faithfully recreated onto the garment to the absolute fullest extent of your artistic talent and intermingled with crayon scribbles worthy of preschool coloring books and large soup stains, as the contrast will bring out the best of both! Around both the neckline and the end of every sleeve, you shall stitch in well-remembered mottos from anti-Celestia revolutionaries. Except that every time the letters P, W, B, or N occur, they are to be switched with one another at random, for an innovate, unique addition to the wardrobe that oozes preppy appeal.

She dragged herself upstairs. With her Muse’s voice ringing in her head, every muscle and thought felt forty years older. Forty years weaker.

Applejack did have a little library of her own. It was nothing next to Twilight Sparkle’s vast collection, but it suited her personal purposes. She went over herself to her bookcases, and she found something on painters, in between all the fashion and sewing books; and yes, it had a pretty lengthy chapter on expressionism. However, being a mare who loved her princess, she had no such books on “anti-Celestia revolutionaries.” What incredibly bad luck; this she’d have to go to visit Twilight’s library. Where Spike would be.

Memories of the little dragon made Applejack’s stomach burn and her heart sink. She tried to shoo away these thoughts.

She must have spent about two hours in her bedroom reading up on expressionism. How it differed from impressionism. The philosophers and playwrights who served as its precursors. It took the book’s author a while before she even got to any actual artwork. At least the paintings were nice to look at. A mare without a Muse like hers would’ve skipped right TO the pictures of the paintings. But Applejack didn’t want to risk her Muse objecting for whatever reason.

Eventually, though, she had burned the images of the expressionist paintings into her mind. It was almost a shame that it was now time to fetch her stock of georgette. Maybe the book’s writing had been dull, but it had been so relaxing on her aching limbs just doing something passive like reading. With a smile, Applejack’s thoughts drifted to Twilight Sparkle. More than once, she’d tried to rope her and the other four into joining into a book club.

“It’ll be like being study buddies, only better!” Twilight had proposed to her and the other four. “We’ll read for fun!” And right now, that was sounding mighty tempting. Applejack missed Twilight. She missed everypony, so badly. But... Twilight would still be in that library of hers, same as ever. Maybe she should drop on by, say hi and they c…

Her. Elongated georgette maxi skirt! Damn. Elongated georgette maxi skirt! Cutie. Elongated georgette maxi skirt! Mark. Elongated georgette maxi skirt! Went. Elongated georgette maxi skirt! Epileptic. Elongated georgette maxi skirt! And. Elongated georgette maxi skirt! Apoplectic.

So yet again, Applejack’s only choice was to gather up her all her equipment, haul it up into her bedroom, and plunk her hindquarters in front of the sewing machine, once more. And georgette certainly wasn’t the easiest fabric to work with, either. So slippery and delicate; hard for a mare to pin down with her hooves, and easy to rip.

This would’ve been so much simpler if she’d been born a unicorn. It wasn’t something Applejack was proud of, but a corner of her brain had always pined for a magic horn, like a phantom limb. (For some reason, the diamonds on her flank tingled weirdly anytime Applejack had such thoughts.) Hooves were such oafish, indelicate things to have at the end of your limbs. Might as well be rocks. And after a while, using your mouth to handle everything got a little messy… and bad tasting.

She and Sweetie Belle should’ve almost been born as each other. Most days, Sweetie might as well not have a horn at all… and Applejack just knew in her heart that she’d’ve taken to magic like a pegasus to the skies.

And speak of the devil… AJ could hear Sweetie Belle downstairs, right now. Had enough time passed for them to finish their insect-hunting venture? Opening the door and letting herself in... saying goodbye to Scootaloo and Apple Bloom. Applejack rose off her chair to go down and give Sweetie a proper welcome back…

You are absolutely forbidden from stopping your masterpiece midway, over such a triviality. To do so would be to jinx yourself beyond every concept of misery and lucklessness, and then every day can be elongated georgette maxi skirt day!

Her Muse was right: She couldn’t afford to lose her inspiration. She got to it. The hour was getting late, but she’d be able to at least put a good dent in the consarned maxi skirt. Downstairs, she could hear her little sister fix herself dinner. Maybe she should take a break and join…

You ate an enormous breakfast this morning, Applejack. Eat any more today, and you shall surely grow fat. Fashionistas must never be fat. More importantly, each bit of money you save on food, is money you will use towards buying more sewing supplies, with which you’ll bring this whole countryside into high-end fashion!

...What a pain it was when her Muse made so much sense. What had she eaten for breakfast this morning? She couldn’t remember anything. Oh well, she’d definitely eat something tomorrow, and Sweetie would have to eat alone tonight. Hey, maybe it’d be a good idea to send Sweetie to fetch a book on anti-Celestia revolutionaries! That way…!

Applejack’s ears flicked. What kind of noises were those, coming from downstairs? Chains being dragged across the floor? Couldn’t be, could it?

“Sweetie Belle!” Applejack called up. “What kinda horseplay are ya up to?”

That heavy-sounding scraping...

“What’n the name a’ glitz ‘n’ glamour’s goin’ on down there?!” she shouted. “Answer me!”

No answer came from downstairs.

“Don’t yew make me come down there!” Applejack barked, rising out of her chair.

Sit down at once! boomed Applejack’s Muse. The night is oh-so-very young, and you have so many sartorial triumphs, weeping to be made real!

Aw, horseapples.

* * *

The next morning, Applejack awoke to find the grayest, dreariest downpour beating at her boutique she’d seen in quite a long while. Peering through the window, past her property line, she could see that the rest of her neighbors were enjoying a very sunny day.

This… incongruity puzzled her for several second before she realized what the case must be: Spike must have told Rarity how she’d treated him. And this was her unicorn weathermare way of petty revenge and showing displeasure. Truth be told, Applejack was feeling more than a bit upset at herself, now that she’d had a chance to cool down and sleep on it. She wished she could take back all she’d done and said, but what was done was done.

For breakfast, Applejack had one of Sweetie’s sugary cereals. She ended up eating two bowls, though the marshmallows stayed stale, even in milk. This would turn out to be the only remotely pleasant thing that would happen to her that day. The real trouble began when she went into her supply closet to fetch more georgette fabric.

All the cabinet drawers and chests where she kept her sewing things were chained up and had padlocks on them.

“SWEETIE BELLE!” She hollered out, fully furious with her sister. “AH AIN’T LAUGHIN’ AT THIS HERE PRACTICAL JOKE A’ YERS! AH’M GIVING YEW TA THE COUNT O’ THREE TA GIT ON DOWN HERE! ONE! TWO! TWO AND A HALF! TWO ‘N’ THREE QUARTERS! THREE!”

No Sweetie Belle. Applejack couldn’t even hear the patter of her little hooves from any part of the house.

“Suit yerself! When Ah find yew, Ah’m whupping the pelt offa ya, lil’ missy, and that’s a promise!”

She still didn’t come. With a snort of anger, Applejack set her teeth upon one of the chains and got to work trying to yank it off, as though it were a weed in her garden. But after a while, it showed no signs of giving, and her teeth were feeling sore.

Kick it! Break it! Her Muse demanded. You must have access!

Applejack reared back her leg and aimed for the largest drawer. Neither the chain nor the padlock got in the way of her smashing it in. But in addition to the crunch of the wood, AJ also heard a brittle, glassy shattering noise she knew she shouldn’t be hearing from this drawer.

Applejack worked the busted drawer open. Her last roll of georgette fabric lay inside, and it was crawling with bugs, so very many BUGS!

What?! Where did these vermin come in from?!

By the look of things, it was from the glass bottle which Sweetie must’ve slipped inside this drawer before chaining and padlocking it up. Applejack could still see creepy-crawlies squirming their way over the glass shards towards her costly fabric, to join their friends.

She recognized what kind of bugs these were, at once. They were universally loathed by every tailor, seamstress, and clothier throughout the whole fashion industry, just as rats were loathed by restaurant owners.

Large, brown and maggot-like, with the speed and stomachs to rival those of parasprites. Except that where parasprites had a bottomless hunger for regular food, these guys craved fabric.

They were known as ‘weaveaters.’ And already, they were making a big buffet out of her roll of georgette. Had she been a unicorn, Applejack would probably have burned it with magical flames. But she was an Earth pony, and there wasn’t enough time to get a safe, mundane fire going. So, running fast as her hooves could carry her, Applejack grabbed herself a shovel and a big plastic garbage bag.

Scooping the georgette roll into the garbage bag, and tying it tightly, she raced outside into her backyard, dug a hole, and buried the infested thing.

“Wanna know the biggest thing that’s been standing in the way of your success?” asked Sweetie Belle, stepping out into the backyard. “You, Applejack. You, yourself.”

“Where did… when did…” she stammered in flabbergasted fury.

“Yesterday, when I was bug-catching with Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, I stumbled upon this mother lode of weaveaters out in the fields,” Sweetie Belle explained. “I scooped up a whole bunch of them up in my net brought them home with me.”

“Eeeewww.” Was all Applejack managed at the thought of handling those disgusting creatures.

“I know. That was kinda gross.” Sweetie said, looking sheepish before her attitude hardened again. “From there, I transferred those weaveaters over to a bunch of those super-fragile glass bottles I’d made when I tried becoming a Cutie Mark Crusader Glassblower. Then I taped a bottle inside each and every one of your supply drawers, so that it’d be sure to break apart if you tried to force it apart, and then chained and padlocked them all shut.”

“Where’d ya get all them chains ‘n’ padlocks, anyway?!” Applejack asked.

“I took apart that chains-and-padlock sweatpants you’d made a while back, I mean, they were kinda sitting around doing nothing since they weren’t exactly hot sellers.” Sweetie told her.

Applejack bristled as her own stupidity, for not simply leaving her room last night and stopping her sister when she’d heard her, loud as thunder. Meanwhile, Sweetie was turning around and picking up some kind of notebook in her mouth.

“Did you even know those padlocks still had their lock combinations all stickered to the backs of them?” Sweetie asked, speaking through the book. “Of course, I’ve already removed those stickers and I copied all the combinations down in this little notebook of mine!”

“Gimme that!” Applejack ran up and snatched the notebook from Sweetie Belle, who didn’t offer any real resistance. She brought it inside the house, set it on the nearest table, and peered through it. The first few lines read:

LOCK #01 = ☼ Ω ☾
LOCK #02 = ⭐ ❀ ♪
LOCK #03 = ✂ ♦ ☂
LOCK #04 = ☄ ⚓ ☼
LOCK #05 = ♡ ♛ Ω

On and on it went. Feeling in a daze, Applejack looks over at some of the padlocks. Of course, there were no cutesy symbols on any of them. Just numbers, zero through thirty-nine.

“Nice code, huh?” asked Sweetie. “Came up with it myself, when me and my friends tried being Cutie Mark Crusader Cryptographers! Only I know how to read it.”

“...Why?” asked Applejack, in a shaky breath. All those many, many times that she’d looked to the heavens and prayed that her little sister might grow some real competence, why now? Why with THIS?! “Just… why, Sweetie Belle?!”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Sweetie said softly. “I didn’t WANT to have to do this. I’m not a bad filly, just doing this to hurt you. But you’re out of control, Applejack. First you mistreated me so horribly, I had to move in with Mom and Dad, and now you drove Spike out of our house! After he did nothing but bend over backwards to help you! So you forced me to resort to extreme measures.”

“Spike… the thing with Spike… he might’ve helped make us some money, but… well…”

The ideas jumbled around in her head he’d gotten in the way of her artistry, her vision, so he had to go She interrupted her own train of thought. No, darnit. He had only been trying to help.

“Apple Bloom’s sister went through a similar problem to what you’re going through,” said Sweetie Belle, sounding like a principal at a parent-teacher conference. “Pinkie Pie just suddenly couldn’t farm right, the way you suddenly can’t sew right. But then Lero went and told Apple Bloom she’d need to become the ‘big sister’ for Pinkie for a while. And that’s what fixed Pinkie. So now it’s clear to me that I’ve got to become the big sister for you.”

Inside her, Applejack could hear fearful, puppy-like whimpering from her Muse.

“So now, AJ, I want to hear you say, ‘Sweetie Belle, I promise I’m going to let you take over for me as big sister until I’m better. And I’ll be good and do whatever you say until I’m ready to be responsible and mature again.’”

Applejack was breathing so heavily, her shoulders were bobbing up and down. It felt like some very ancient force within her was uprooting itself from deep inside herself. When she spoke, her accent came thicker than ever.

“If yew think fer one apple-picking minute Ah’d agree ta somethin’ like that…!”

Do it! Right now! sobbed her Muse. Not only was Applejack experiencing a spastic, spasming clenching around her cutie mark… the same clenching was happening to her throat muscles. Capitulate to her demands! You cannot risk losing all your precious fabrics, that’ll be the end of everything! All your dreams! All your hopes! Everything your cutie mark stands for!

“...Then yer absolutely right, as it turns out.”

Her heart and her shame had never felt heavier as she removed her hat and held it over her heart. As though for a lost loved one.

“Sweetie Belle, Ah promise Ah’m gonna let yew take over fer me as big sister until Ah’m better again. And Ah’ll be good and do whatever yew say until Ah’m ready ta be responsible and mature again.”

Applejack’s eyes were squeezed shut in humiliation as her tiny younger sister came over and gave her a warm nuzzle.

“This really is for your own good. Don’t worry. We’re going to beat this horrible Muse of yours that you’ve always been talking about. You and me, little sister.”

* * *

Giggling, Fluttershy turned the next page of Pinkie Pie’s diary while biting down on her cupcake. Mmm! Triple cinnamon sugar with a marshmallow fluff center!

Dear Diary,

Ugh. Even after resting, I’m still feeling pretty wiped out. And bummed out. Because a day like today isn’t the sort of day that you really want to write up about any more than a schoolfilly wants to write up a big essay on why her last school project flopped so bad. More like a rather-everyone-forget-this-day-ever-happened-especially-me kind of day. But they won’t forget, and I don’t think it’s fair to them or myself if I forget today, either. Because then I’ll also have forgotten the important life lesson I learned at the end of this super-embarrassing disaster day. And if I forget the life lesson, I might end up repeating this same exact mistake at a later point in time! (This sort of thing happens to ponies more often than we’d like to acknowledge.) So in the interest of making sure this day never, ever happens again…

Do you remember me telling you about my Nana Pinkie’s legend of the Mirror Pool? The one which you activate by saying, “And into her own reflection she stared, yearning for one whose reflection she shared, and solemnly sweared not to be scared at the prospect of being doubly mared?” Well, it all started when...

Part of Fluttershy worried that reading the diary was invading the… Other Pinkie’s privacy, but another voice told her not to be silly, and she had every right to read her own diary. After all, Twilight Sparkle had said that half of Fluttershy’s soul was the old Pinkie Pie… so really, it was like reading her own diary. And it was like that! It REALLY was so much like she was reading her own diary! Kinda-sorta. It was also a little bit disturbing that her internal narration sounded like Pinkie’s voice without her accent when she read, but on another level, it was oddly reassuring.

Flipping through this diary’s pages was like the written equivalent of hearing a brass band performing a familiar old tune specifically written with woodwind instruments in mind. With occasional segments skipped and completely new bits freestyled in. As she drank in the story of Curly Pinkie and the Mirror Pool, (with an enthusiasm to do Twilight proud!) Fluttershy was swept back through her own memories of the Duplicate Fluttershies, who had been every bit as featherbrained and self-absorbed as the ones Curly Pinkie had made of herself.

When all was said and done, the Duplicate Pinkies had been a much easier problem to deal with than the Duplicates of herself. Because earth ponies couldn’t fly, her friends had been able to round the Pinkies all up much quicker, and the Pinkies hadn’t been able to perform quite as much mischief as the Fluttershies. So much junk that hadn’t been spilled over so many rooftops and heads… Fluttershy was almost jealous of how less calamitous things had turned out!

Fluttershy was just getting to the part where Twilight Sparkle had opened the curtain to reveal the wall of drying paint, when Mrs. Cake called up from downstairs.

“Fluttershy! Fluttershy, dear! There’s, er, somepony at the door, wants to see you!”

Fluttershy set Pinkie’s diary aside… though, since her Swap, she’d been using it as her diary too. Fluttershy had been naturally compelled to pick up where old Curly Pinkie had left off; writing her own entries. Now that she’d gotten her Equilibrium, she was still undecided whether she should continue on with that. Though perhaps it was best to; the other Pinkie deserved to know what happened to her cutie mark if things were ever ‘fixed.' She shouted “Be right down!” and was right down within less than half a minute.

She’d’ve expected it to be Lero or somepony from his herd, come for a secret Swap-related powwow. It was almost ten o’clock at night, after all. But instead of Herd Bellerophon, this late-night caller at her door was a handsome, white-coated pegasus stallion, wearing armor that marked him as a member of the Day Guard- Princess Celestia’s elite soldiers.

“Miss Fluttershy,” he began, “Princess Celestia would like for you to come to her castle at once.”

“Of course!” she responded brightly. She was always happy to see the princess. That said… “What for?” she asked, a note of worry in the question, noting the unusual hour and nature of the request, while eyeing the sky chariot behind the soldier. The other soldier still hitched to it was looking up at her.

“I don’t have the liberty to say, I’m afraid.”

“Is it anything I should be worried about?”

“I don’t have the liberty to say, I’m afraid,” repeated the soldier.

She thought about it. It took less than a second. “Okiedokie!” she decided, and flew herself inside the chariot. “I’m ready to go!”

* * *

There were lots of larger buildings Fluttershy could name that got creepy or haunted-looking after the sun went down. But the royal palace failed to be such a place. It had always been just as majestic after dark as it always had been during the day, and had grown even more so since Princess Luna’s return. The Night Court’s activity gave it a soft luminescence and elegant features reminiscent of the night princess. From her sky chariot, Fluttershy looked from the palace to the full moon, and was unable to say which was the prettier sight.

When she’d first stepped aboard, she figured they were going to fetch her other five Element-bearing friends as well… but instead, she was flown straight to the castle, alone. And instead of delivering her to the front entrance, the charioteers banked around to the opposite side of the castle, landing by a much smaller and rougher-looking side door which Fluttershy had never seen before. Dark though it was, she could read a sign that said ‘Servants’ Entrance.’ The whole area practically screamed stark efficiency compared to the beautiful ostentatiousness of the main entrances and public areas. She was faintly reminded of the preparation and working areas she’d — Pinkie’d — had access to during the preparation of Cadance and Shining Armor’s wedding.

“Pr… ah,” Though they were alone, the chariot-puller who’d started speaking gave a nervous look around, turning the ‘pr’ sound into a gentle cough, and restarted his sentence. “Miss Fluttershy, you’re to enter the castle through those doors.”

“Is that where I’ll be meeting with Princess Celestia?” she asked him.

With a wince, the poor stallion looked around as though journalists might be eavesdropping behind the creeping vines. “I don’t have the liberty to say, I’m afraid.”

Fluttershy faced the door. Just before opening it, she turned around and told the stallion, “You oughta get yourself some liberty sometime. It’s gooooood stuff!”

Then she stepped in through the servants’ entrance.

* * *

Fluttershy remembered a phrase she’d read in one of Applejack’s glamour magazines. Words she’d committed to memory for their sheer weirdness, then had later gotten Twilight to define. Learning what this phrase meant had been nifty, but she never thought she’d ever have been using it in real life. Until tonight. Because there really was no better way of describing this place than an elysian dreamscape.

Multiple waterfalls were in front of her and to her side. Except water wasn’t what fell from any of them. Lavender liquid from one, peach-colored from another, and from another still was the green of aloe vera. None of it could even be properly be described as ‘watery;’ it was as thick as anything a pony would squeeze over a bowl of ice cream. The liquids collected together in a single river and were gently borne downstream, with no single color clashing with another.

Bubbles served for clouds up in the sky; which were almost the same pastel yellow as her own coat. The ground beneath her was a strange sort of turquoise-gray. She dragged a hoof across the ground. It felt kinda rocky and moderately firm. Yet there was nothing truly earthy about the ground, or anything else, beautiful as it all was! What WAS this place?! The door she’d just walked through wasn’t even at her back!

This was when Fluttershy’s nose finally caught up with her wonderstruck eyes, and she realized what she’d been smelling all this time: Soap. Shampoo. While none of the scents were of any brand-name she recognized, the fact remained: the large bubbles in the air were really soap bubbles! The colorful waterfalls were actually shampoofalls! Even the ground under her hooves felt like those scratchy pumice-based bars used to scrub out serious grime and grease.

And yet at no point did this smorgasborg of scents ever feel overpowering to Fluttershy; the way it could sometimes get in perfume shops. At all times, the very gentlest and most temperate of breezes danced around Fluttershy’s nose, allowing in just the right amount of aroma to be alluring, while buffeting away the rest.

“Toot-toot! Tootle-toot!” An adorable red toy tugboat popped out of the river, spurting shampoo out of its smokestack. She used to have a tugboat like this as a bath toy, long ago. “Follow meeeee!” it said.

Giggling, she followed the toy to a large castle built of white, brick-shaped soap bars. A series of shower curtains pulled opened for her, one after the next, as she came in through the front doorway.

“Sooo, Fluttershy, my dear,” purred Discord. “Like the ambiance?”

He was inside an open shower, pouring bottles of turpentine over his body to scrub himself under a stream of orange juice, which poured upward from the shower drain at his feet and was sucked up into the shower head above his horns.

“My first instinct was creating a candyland… but I realized how overdone those are, especially by about ninety percent of candy shops. Besides,” Discord continued, looking at Fluttershy’s balloon mark, “I daresay you must be thoroughly sick to death of candy. Considering how much of it you’ve already been compelled to eat these past few months.”

And then Discord raised a curious eyebrow at Fluttershy. “Or… are you?”

He clenched a talon out in front of Fluttershy, unclenched it, and there were cookies and gumdrops in his palm. Shrugging blithely, Fluttershy helped herself to a gumdrop.

“What is this place?” Fluttershy asked. “Am I still inside the castle? Did you redecorate this room, Discord?”

“No, my little pony,” came the melodious voice of Princess Celestia. She was off by Discord’s left, inside a green clawfoot bathtub shaped like a cartoon bullfrog, frothing over with bubble bath bubbles.

Celestia’s darker-coated sister looked over at her elder sister from the whirlpool hot tub she was sitting inside.

“Am I dreaming?” Fluttershy asked Princess Luna. “Have I fallen asleep?”

Both the princesses stepped out of their respective bathing pools; their bodies instantly dried as soon as all four hooves had been pulled out of the water.

“Nay, young Fluttershy,” proclaimed Luna. “Thou art wide awake.”

“Think of this place as a ‘pocket dimension,’ Fluttershy,” Celestia continued, flinching as a trout-shaped shower head spritzed her with water. “One completely separated from Equestria altogether. Made just for this meeting.”

“Ah!” Fluttershy exclaimed. Well, that made as much sense as anything here. “Well, what’s this all about, then, huh? Some kinda bathtub party? Oooh, you should’ve told me! I’d’ve brought my pool noodle.”

“Not exactly,” Discord smirked, “All the same, we would rather you be comfy.” And he conjured up a poofy pink tuffet which Fluttershy was happy to sit on.

“My dear Fluttershy,” Celestia began, stepping forward. “I understand that, earlier today, you had a very eye-opening discussion with Twilight Sparkle and the other members of her herd. Is that right?”

“Mmm-hmm! Well, except for Rarity and Rainbow Dash.”

Princess Celestia shut her eyelids regally. “But of course. Right after you had left her house, my faithful student did the responsible thing, and wrote to me; alerting me to this new development right away.”

“Is it true, then?” Princess Luna asked. “The blinders placed upon you by that abysmal miscarriage of a spell… they have indeed fallen from your eyes?”

After a heavenly whiff of patchouli and juniper, Fluttershy said, “If you’re asking whether I can see the old pre-Swap pictures ‘n’ stuff, yeah, I totally can, just fine! Are you going to have Discord erase my mind?”

“I’d prefer very much not to need to,” said Celestia, ignoring all the oddments Discord was now jamming into his giant blender. “Twilight and I are both hoping you could help her provide insight into your condition, as someone she can approach directly.”

“Oh, gladly!” said Fluttershy, rocking back a bit.

“But first, we wish to ask of you a few questions,” said Luna.

Then Celestia fixed Fluttershy with the sort of grave expression Fluttershy remembered her having the very first time she’d ever brought up the subject of Discord, and what a threat he represented to everyone.

“Before even that, we want your absolute solemn word of honor that you will not breathe a word of this meeting to anyone.”

“Remember: this never happened,” said Discord, suddenly dressed in a chef’s apron and toque, stirring up a big bowl of pasta in marinara sauce. “Capiche, mia ragazza carina?”

“Sure!” Fluttershy said. “My lips are zipped! Fluttershy Forswear AND Pinkie Promise!”

“...Forswear?” Princess Luna asked, just as Fluttershy was about to begin her Forswearing.

“It’s her personal version of the Pinkie Promise,” chuckled Discord, bending forward, smiling down at Fluttershy, hands over his knees. “Hey, Fluttershy! Wanna know something nifty? I’ve seen alternate universes where they’re also dealing with their own Swaps!”

“Really?” she asked. “Real alternate universes, like in the comic books?”

“What’s the difference?! If you want, I’ll teach you all the OTHER special vows your friends have come up from those other Equestrias, where they’re supposed to be the funny party-loving baker girls instead of you! Such as the Rainbow Dash Declaration!”

And in a twirl, Discord had morphed himself into a version of Rainbow Dash with hilariously frizzy hair, and an exact replica of her own Balloon Mark on her flank.

“Or how about the Twilight Sparkle Swearing?” this Rainbow Dash asked, now transforming into a silly Balloon-marked Twilight Sparkle. One whose mane was the floofiest afro you could ask for, and a friendly smile brimming with rib-busting comedy, that Fluttershy was dying to hear from her. But poor Celestia didn’t seem to like the look at all, cringing at this ridiculous version of her faithful student.

“And let’s not forget, the Applejack Avowal or the Rarity Resolution!” said Discord, changing into goofy versions of Applejack and Rarity.

“I’ll be super-sworn times six!” Fluttershy squealed. It would be as though not just herself, not just the old Pinkie Pie, but the spirits of four other Elements of Laughter from other universes were tied into this sworn oath. Watching her from afar, like a host of angels. Plus, she’d be performing this in front of Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and Discord.

Vows did not get more solemn, binding, groovy, or downright sacred than this. And Fluttershy intended not to disappoint any of them.

One by one, Discord transformed himself into each of the other Elements of Laughter, and taught Fluttershy their respective vows. She committed them each to heart, then recited all six before the princesses.

First Rainbow Dash’s: “Eat my dust and search the sky! Pluck my feathers if I lie!”

Then Applejack’s: “Boop my nose and shake my tail, gonna do it without fail!”

Then Twilight’s: “Tail to horn and nose to hoof, what I say will be the troof!”

Then Rarity’s: “Shiny hiney, muddy shoe, spank me if I fail to do!”

Then Pinkie Pie’s: “Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!”

And last, Fluttershy’s own: “Cross my wings, hope to cry, pluck my feathers if I lie!”

When she had finished, Princess Celestia let out a deep breath. As though the main reason why Fluttershy had been brought out here had been settled, and her biggest worry had just been put to rest.

“Say, Discord?” asked Fluttershy. “Got a question.”

“What is it?” he asked, ears growing enormous as he leaned in closer.

“My memories… my Swapped memories... say that Rainbow Dash was the one who reformed you from evil to good. But that’s not true, is it? I was originally the Element of Kindness, so… I was the one who really reformed you, wasn’t I?”

“Y… yes,” said Discord. “That’s right.”

“I became your friend?”

For a wonder, Discord turned bashful, staring at his index fingers while pressing their tips against each other. Celestia ended up answering for him.

“You’re quite right, my little pony. You befriended Discord.”

“Would you like to still be friends?” He looked up at her in amazement, and suddenly she felt a small touch of what must’ve been her old shyness. “My mind’s a bit different from what it was. Guessing I’m a lot more giggly than I was back then, huh? But you’re a pretty cool guy, when you’re not making the world all crazy-cuckoo-bird! And no one ought to lose their first-ever friend if it can be helped, so… friends again?”

Smiling from the heart, he took her hoof in his hands. “Friends forever, Fluttershy.” He took a second to brush away something by his eye. “Could I stop by your place and visit you at some point?”

“Anytime!” Fluttershy grinned. “Oooh, any chance you could take me to see the other Swaps, in those alternate universes?”

“Um…” said Celestia. “I don’t think that would be w…”

“Of course I will, Fluttershy!” Discord crowed, over Celestia’s protests. “We’ll make a long weekend of it!”

Celestia shook her head in disbelief while Discord and Fluttershy gave each a hoof-bump: Discord transforming the end of one limb into a hoof, in order to make this happen.

“Lady Fluttershy?” Princess Luna then asked, with a look of concern. “We wish to know, how fare thee, now that the truth be known?”

“I feel a-okay, Your Majesty!” Fluttershy promised her. “Part of me wishes it could remember what it felt like being my old self… another part of me’s afraid of remembering. But when all’s said and done, I’m okay with where I am in life right now. I feel joyful, and free, and smart!”

“Smart?” asked Luna, curiously.

“Yes!” said Fluttershy, “‘Smart’ in the sense that I know how to live my life well, and what to say to other ponies to make them happy and like me. But also ‘smart’ as in ‘informed.’ I understand what’s really going on, and it feels good, not being confused anymore.”

“Prithee, Fluttershy: what dost thou intend to do?”

Fluttershy looked from Discord, down to her own hooves, and back to Luna, taking a big breath that smelled of the loveliest passion flowers and vanilla extracts.

“I haven’t entirely decided quite yet,” said Fluttershy. “Well, except for the very first part; that I know. The very first part is to help my friend Applejack. Get her out of her rut.”

“That is a very mature, very responsible course of action to take, Fluttershy,” pronounced Princess Celestia. “It’s important that a truehearted friend should always be mindful to…”

“Celestia.” The white alicorn monarch stopped short, speechless, one foreleg raised in shock.

Not just from the entirely unexpected interruption. Fluttershy hadn’t called her Princess Celestia. Or ‘Your Highness,’ or ‘Your Majesty,’ or any of those other titles. Just plain ‘Celestia.’ As though her ruler were every bit her equal as Rarity or Lyra were. And Fluttershy didn’t feel the slightest bit sorry. In fact, she looked extremely serious. Almost to the point of looping back around to being silly. Almost.

“Tell me why you felt the need to do all this,” Fluttershy asked, her tone clear that this wasn’t a request.

“To… to do what?” asked Celestia, managing to barely keep her regal bearing.

“To have this Swap happen to us,” the yellow pegasus specified. “Me, Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie.”

Fluttershy’s voice was still bright, perky, and peppy. Her face was still smiling. But inside, it felt like all the natural sweetness within her was freezing up into one giant popsicle. And that popsicle, in turn, was being sharpened into an icy shiv. And she knew that Celestia could hear that edge.

“When Twilight Sparkle wrote to you after we talked at her house…did Twilight tell you how she broke down in tears? About how attached she had become to the five of us? And how searching for the cure felt like plotting our murder? I had to hold her in my arms and promise her she wasn’t a monster.”

The sun princess winced, closing her eyes, her hoof lowering to the ground. “She... didn’t go into any of that in her letter. But I knew it had happened, thanks to Discord. He watched the whole thing.”

Discord shot Fluttershy a look, but she didn’t so much as glance back at him. It was really amazing how dirty Celestia looked to her right now, in this wonderland of soap and suds.

“We Swapped Ponies suffered a lot. But speaking personally, I think that what really appalls me most about this whole mess is how Twilight suffered. I mean, Twilight didn’t really HAVE friends like us, before we five came into her life, right? But then after all these years of living in Ponyville, after she went and turned herself into Equestria’s biggest friendship scholar for your sake… and you made her feel like she has to be an executioner to the first five friends she’s ever made. What kind of princess… what kind of teacher… what kind of mother figure would DO such a thing to a mare like Twilight Sparkle? There must be SOME reason! Please, Princess Celestia, help me to understand: what greater good could justify all this?”

The longer Fluttershy talked, the stiffer and more upright Celestia’s body became, until she looked like one of her own fountain statues you might find in some town square. Yet she wept. Fluttershy could see how shocking the tears were to both Luna and Discord; as though they hadn’t seen such a sight from Celestia’s eyes for centuries.

“Go ahead,” Fluttershy encouraged, “You can tell me. I’ve already sworn myself to secrecy.”

In spite of the tears, Celestia answered Fluttershy with flawless vocal composure. “The first thing you have to understand, Fluttershy, is that Alicorns aren’t limited by the normal magics of most ponies, even unicorns. Our natures often expand our capabilities in ways that go beyond mere spells. For example, since they are part of Luna’s domain of the night, my sister can enter and master dreams.”

“Oh! Neat! Does Cadence have anything like that?”

Celestia chuckled lightly, in spite of her tears. “She’s young yet, for an Alicorn, and has not fully matured into her power yet. So, no, not quite yet for her.”

“Oh! Well, then, what about you?”

“Many things. But of foremost relevance, I am capable of foreseeing the future.”

Fluttershy tilted her head in curiosity. “You’re an oracle? Ooh! Do you use a crystal ball? Read tea leaves? Watch roosters peck at grains?”

“I have prophetic dreams.” answered the princess.

“Tis true,” spoke her younger sister. “Whilst I do not seek to spy on my sister in her nighttime hours, I yet have glimpsed several of these dreams as they occurred, auguring events yet to come.”

“For example, Fluttershy, do you remember when I assigned you and your friends the task of reforming Discord, back when he was a mere statue?” asked Celestia. “Do you remember me saying, ‘Now where is Fluttershy? I believe she may know best how to begin reforming Discord?’”

Fluttershy sighed. “Well… I remember you saying ‘Rainbow Dash.’ But yes, I remember.”

“Ah,” said Princess Celestia, head drooping. “My apologies.”

“No, no,” said Fluttershy, resigning herself to this weirdness. “We both know that it’s my memories that’re wrong.”

Celestia nodded. “Did you wonder why I singled you…. her… out, despite my tasks usually going to Twilight?” Fluttershy nodded. “It was because I foresaw the outcome. That you... or your former self, at least... alone among your friends, had what it took to reach Discord and befriend him. That incident is just one example of the many other things I foresaw, and took action to bring about, for a better future for ponykind.”

Fluttershy nodded thoughtfully. “So... you have prophetic dreams. Did you dream of the Swap happening?”

“In a sense,” Celestia told her. “Several months ago, I had another prophetic dream. It told me that finally completing Starswirl’s old, unfinished spell would be vital for Equestria’s future… and that Twilight Sparkle would be the pony to do it.”

“Why?” asked Fluttershy.

“They’re foretellings, Fluttershy, not documentaries. My dream made it more than clear it was vital, but it didn’t show me how or why.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she spotted Luna’s expression shifting as Celestia spoke, but when she glanced over, her expression was as neutral as before. Fluttershy looked between the two alicorns. “So is all this… this whole Swap... is everything still going according to your dream, Your Majesty?”

“No,” said Celestia, with a hard breath. “Honestly, truly, no. Things haven’t gone the way I foresaw, at all.” Fluttershy heard, almost felt an edge in Celestia’s voice — one she thought she’d never hear from such a wise, ancient being — the tone of someone completely lost. “It’s gone off-course almost from the beginning, and I have no idea why.”

Luna rose from her bath, and went over to her sister’s side, and nuzzled her comfortingly.

“I did foresee that Twilight would struggle with a ‘Swap’ situation, but my dream showed her restoring the five of you back to your right minds, relatively quickly. Or at least, in much less time than it’s taken here in the real world.” She shook her head helplessly.

“Well… then have your visions ever gone wrong in the past?” Fluttershy asked.

“Ponies have free will, my little pony. If I do not act to bring about my visions, they never come to be. And often, details change. But nothing’s ever gone astray to this large of a scale before.”

“Well, then, what changed?” Discord asked, lounging on a cloud of bubbles floating by.

“Nothing.” Celestia answered.

“Nothing?” Luna inquired.

Celestia shook her head.

“Are you certain?” Fluttershy pried.

“Nothing that I’ve conceived of.” Her shoulders sagged. “I… just don’t know what went wrong,” she said in a small voice.

There was an awkward moment of silence before Fluttershy cleared her throat. “Well, then, maybe we can work backwards! Was there any time where something important happened that you didn’t see coming?”

“Well, yes, many things, for given values of ‘important’. I don’t see everything, just what’s important to the future of my little ponies.”

“Well!” Fluttershy replied. “Then let’s do a mental list. Check off every world-shaking event, and list off everyone you didn’t foresee.”

“...Two of them are in this room. I did not foresee the emergence of Nightmare Moon… which is to say, the day Luna first transformed into her. Nor either of the times Discord brought chaos upon this world. Beings that equal or exceed my power are beyond my vision.”

Fluttershy glanced at them. “Did either of you do anything to change this outcome? With the Swap?”

Luna shook her head. “Despite my misgivings, I have stayed largely out of these events, as my sister requested.”

“Don’t look at me!” Tiny yellow rubber Duckcord protested. “Outside of some tiny, harmless, thoroughly-deserved soul-crushing shenanigans very, very recently, I’ve kept entirely on the straight-and-narrow, following my orders to the T! I certainly wasn’t the cause of this nonsense. Do you think I want to lose my Fluttershy?”

“No, no, of course not.” Fluttershy pet the rubber Duckonequus, as Celestia frowned and quirked her brow at the mention of ‘shenanigans.’ Before she could ask, Fluttershy sat up, cuddling the not-duckling. “Right! But anything else?”

Celestia paused, closing her eyes, flashes of centuries flashing before her eyes, muttering “No. No. No. No.” Over and over again, as she mentally eliminated possibilities from over a thousand years of life. Just when she was on the verge of becoming annoying, Her eyes flew open. “Oh my.”

“Sister?” Luna intoned.

“Princess?” Fluttershy asked.

“This is gonna be good,” quacked a certain rubber bath toy.

“There is one thing… one unexpected, world-changing event that I never foresaw.”

“And that is, my sister?” Luna asked.

“Lero,” she said.

“Ha!” Discord popped into his normal shape, tangled about Fluttershy, who mmmphed slightly. “I knew it!”

“You… knew that Lero was responsible for this?” A certain deadly edge lay in Celestia’s voice.

Discord froze, slid off Fluttershy, and straightened up, “Ahem. When I said ‘knew’ I meant it in the colloquial sense of ‘suspected’ once things started going off-kilter. I did not meant to imply that I was hiding pertinent information before the fact. And… that’s not how I work, anyhow. I don’t really get the whole ‘prophecy’ shtick. Predestination isn’t a ‘chaos’ thing, you know? I see all possibilities, but I never know which will come true. Up until you said ‘Lero,’ I saw an infinite number of other futures where you said someone else’s name. Even ones that made no sense! Those were silly dimensions.”

Celestia paused, then nodded. “I believe you, Discord.” She sighed. “Now that I think about it... none of my dreams included Lero. Even after he arrived, even while he was here, walking among us. But prior to now, he never got involved in major events. It never involved…”

“...His family.” Luna concluded. “This time, he could not stand by. He had to act.”

“And every time he did, every time he got involved, every time he changed things…” Discord prompted.

“My vision went further awry,” Celestia confirmed

“So… Lero is responsible,” Luna suggested.

“No, I am responsible. I did not have the wisdom to notice the inconsistency of my visions, nor the foresight to realize the inevitability of this outcome.” Celestia shook her head. “I had become so used to my visions near-infallibility that I became dependent and over-certain… and brought this on those I cared about.”

There was a long, somber pause. Fluttershy coughed and perked up. “Well, then, now we need to figure out why, right, so it doesn’t happen again?”

“Oooh! Oooh! I know! I know! Pick me!”

Discord had just transformed himself into the dweebiest school student imaginable, with glasses like huge square dinner plates, tacky pants that clashed with his tackier shirt, and a bucktoothed overbite that bounced on the top of his school desk when he spoke.

“It’s because Lero’s an alien, right? Your prophecy dreams just don’t like aliens!”

Celestia looked flatly at Discord while he got to work polishing a golden apple. She shook her head.

“Actually, Discord, while I’d not use the phrase ‘doesn’t like’, I’d daresay that’s you suggestion is exactly the case. Lero is not native to Equestria, nor does he have an innate magical field, nor does he hear the music of harmony.”

“Mayhap… those who kidnapped Lero from the world of Earth could be to blame for this…” Luna mused quietly.

“For that, and most likely many more reasons,” Celestia quickly continued, “my prophetic dreams fail to take him into account. As far as they can perceive, he’s not there. They simply take the world-as-it-is, and extrapolates the future as if he never existed. Previously, it never mattered, since Lero never got himself directly involved in great heroics.”

Fluttershy knew this was true. Against big baddies like King Sombra and Discord in his evildoing days, Lero had been like the spouse of a soldier; remaining at home while his sweethearts galloped out to confront the great enemy.

“But this Swap? It involved his family on a more domestic scale. So he intervened... and thus, things changed. Henceforth, I shall need to be careful about trusting my visions on anything Lero could potentially involve himself in.”

“Well, now that we realize what the problem, what can we do about it?” asked Fluttershy.

“In the future, it’s something I’ll take into account and modify my plans around. As for the current crisis?” The princess of the sun hung her head, and sighed. “At this point, it really is all in Twilight's hooves.”

* * *

Fluttershy yawned. It was nearly an hour later, after her meeting with Discord and the Princesses, but she shook off the tiredness. She still had a job to do! Fluttershy entered her bedroom, lying down on her bed, flipping open Pinkie’s diary, flipping back to her early days, her time with her family, and as was suggestion, began trying to ‘remember’ her grandmother teaching her how to sew, and the Swap filled her mind with memories...

* * *

“Alright, dearie,” came Nana Pinkie’s voice, through the darkness of Fluttershy’s own closed eyes, “You may open your eyes now!”

Fluttershy squealed at the top of her voice when she did so. There, upon her sweet grandmother’s table, stood an adorable stuffed toy. A jester; an earth pony with two mismatched button eyes, the most adorable smile, and that unique little cap jesters wore; the one that had always reminded Fluttershy of a bunch of weirdly-painted bananas.

“Oh, she’s WONDERFUL!” she exclaimed, hugging the jester against her face. The bells on her cap were real and they all jingled. “I love her, I love her, I LOVE her! I think I’m gonna name you Jestful Jests!”

And she bounced Jestful Jests between one wing and the other, just to hear the bells jingle more, before catching her in another hug. “Which toy store did you buy her at, Nana Pinkie?”

“Toy store?” Nana Pinkie gave a proud little scoff. “That doll wasn’t bought, my sweet yellow cupcake. I made that doll for you! Sewed her together with my own cotton on my own sewing machine!”

Fluttershy gasped. It was possible to make such a wonderful doll as this from stuff in the house?!

“I wanna sew too! Oh, Nana Pinkie, can you teach me? Please, please, pluu--leeezzeee??? I wanna know everything there is to know about sewing!”

Nana regarded her with some surprise. “You really want to learn sewing?”

“Yes, Nana, yes!” said Fluttershy, throwing Jestful Jests high up towards the ceiling so she could catch her, mid-fall. “I wanna sew all sorts of things!”

And she did. After all, what was a jester with no one to bring smiles to? Jestful Jests would be given a queen and king to perform for! And princesses and princes! Dukes and earls! Even a silly elephant she could dance on top of! She’d sew it all!

Nana Pinkie smiled down indulgently at her six-year-old granddaughter. “I’ll tell you what. “Go outside in the backyard and play with Jestful Jests for about half an hour or so. Give me a chance to pull all my sewing things out. Alright?”

* * *

“Whatever had happened to good old Jestful Jests?”

Fluttershy pondered this to herself the next day, as she restocked the display cases at Sugarcube Corner.

Of course, on a deeper level, Fluttershy understood perfectly well that there never had been any Jestful Jests. That the Swap had invented her completely, as a plot device in its narrative. But the yellow pegasus had deliberately chosen to keep all her disbelief in very firm suspension. As such, she could hijack the Swap’s obsessive urge to ‘explain’ things to effectively craft new memories for herself. She was surprised it hadn’t caught on to the fact she knew the truth; maybe it ultimately wasn’t that smart.

Seconds later, the answer came to Fluttershy! She remembered how her Ma had spilled her smoky quartz moonshine all over it, before kicking it into the fire. Accidentally, on account of being tipsy. Not even a week after Nana Pinkie had sewn her together. How Fluttershy had cried, that day!

Aww. That memory was sad. Maybe the swap was punishing her for pushing it too hard? However, before more thought could be put to it, Fluttershy’s attention was drawn towards the front door, as two familiar ponies entered in.

“Yew really brought yer A-game today, Macky!” Pinkie Pie cheered, thumping her big brother proudly on the shoulder. “Ah ain’t seen salesmareship like that in a dog’s age! Wait’ll Granny and Apple Bloom hear ‘bout this!”

“Eeeyyup!” said the big red stallion, holding his head as high as a king.

“Hiyas, you two! What’s all the commotion?” Fluttershy asked the brother and sister as they came up to her counter.

“Ask us how many apples we jest sold,” Pinkie Pie told her.

“Twenty?” guessed Fluttershy. “Thirty?”

“Try forty-five bushels of Red Delicious!” Pinkie answered, with a cocky flip of her long, straight mane.

“Whoa! Who bought it?” Fluttershy asked.

“Some ponies in charge of a wedding. Big one, too, by the sound a’ thangs. We’re talking seven brides ‘n’ grooms, plus all their extended families!” Pinkie then grinned up proudly at her brother while Fluttershy oohed. “And Mr. Smooth-Talker here’s the stallion who convinced them ta buy extra! So now comes the part where we ask you, what’s today’s special, down here at Sugarcube Corner?”

“Could I interest you in some apple strudel? It’s freshly made!”

Pinkie’s lip curled. “Ah’m sure it is, Shy. But Mac ‘n’ me jest spent the last several hours sellin’ off apple pies, apple juice, applesauce, apple preserves, and over a hundred pounds of apples in the raw.” She peered over Fluttershy’s head at the menu for herself. “Ah think Ah’m hankerin’ fer one a’ yer banana walnut cupcakes.”

“Okies!” It was a bit odd for Pinkie to turn down anything apple-related, but she definitely didn’t have a problem with her enjoying others of Sugarcube Corner’s delicious treats!

However, the pink mare wasn’t even close to done. “Along with a peppermint bark cupcake with extra peppermint, a salted caramel cupcake with extra sprinkles, a chocolate chip and mascarpone cupcake, extra chocolate chips, and a glazed triple toffee brownie. Extra everythang.”

Fluttershy let out an impressed whistle. “Somepony’s got herself a sweet tooth today!”

“Somethin’ ‘bout this place keeps puttin’ me in a sugar-cravin’ mood, every time Ah pass it on the street. This place is dangerous fer me!” Pinkie laughed. “Dangerous fer any gal lookin’ ta keep her slim figure!”

“Ah’ll jest have a bear claw,” Big Macintosh finally said.

Fluttershy went to collect all the goodies the siblings ordered. But as the yellow pegasus turned, she caught sight of the wall where all the Employee Of The Month pictures hung. So many curly-maned Pinkie Pies grinned down at her. February’s Pinkie, especially, felt like it was piercing through her with the happiness of the life she’d been living. The life Fluttershy was now enjoying.

“Hey, um… Pinkie? Pinkie?”

The flat-maned Pinkie Pie turned from her brother, looking over curiously to Fluttershy.

“Let’s suppose, just for supposing’s sake, that I turned out to really be Rainbow Dash. would you take over at Sugarcube Corner for me? Since I had to go and be Dash?”

The former Element of Laughter just rolled her eyes, showing the yellow pegasus how used she was to her goofball antics. "Sure, Ah guess Ah would," she answered. By her flippant tone of voice, Fluttershy knew she might as well have asked the pink mare, ‘If we both transformed into fishes right this second, would you swim in the same school as me?’

“Why’re ya askin’?” asked Big Mac.

“For future reference, I guess,” Fluttershy sighed, giving Pinkie her tray of food. “Here’s your order!”

“Yummy!”

* * *

An impeccably stylish organza playsuit, ruched in all the right places with no less than six layers of translucent ruffles for the ultimate party piece that’ll be the very definition of laid-back luxe!

Sweetie Belle’s codebook, which contained all the combinations to the padlocks, had been left atop her pillow when Sweetie had went off to go to school. Practically daring Applejack to flip But this alone is not enough, not nearly enough, there must be more! it open and read it. And flip it open Applejack did, as soon as her younger sister could no longer be seen from her window. She had become so horrible at impulse More embellishment! More, for that runway-worthy look! control...

After about half an hour, AJ had made several discoveries. First, Sweetie Belle had come up with forty different symbols corresponding to the forty different numbers on the padlocks, (which were all of identical make and model.) Dolphins, shooting stars, kitty cats… all girly things.

Though Applejack searched long and hard for some kind of cipher Of course! A print pattern based on board games to send your clientele reminiscing about cozy rainy days! that could tell her what all the symbols stood for, she found nothing. Not within the codebook, nor hidden anyplace within the rest of Sweetie’s room. It was possible one was in the Crusaders’ But which board game should it be? clubhouse… but Applejack’s Muse didn’t like her leaving her boutique on the best of days. It would be especially angry with her if she snooped around the place and found nothing.

Sweetie would be angry, too.

Instead, Applejack Eureka! Ponies climbing down ladders! ...Dagnabbit! Her Muse made concentrating on anything that wasn’t sewing near-impossible at times! What had she been doing, again?

Oh, yeah, she went over to one of the padlocks. Sweetie Belle had placed new numerical stickers over them all. She picked #11, just at random. A look at Sweetie’s codebook informed her that the combination for #11 was a strawberry, followed by a pretty flower and a teddy bear.

They made safecracking look so easy in all the old movies. Ponies scrambling up chutes! Just press your ear up against the safe, and spin the dial, listening for the telltale giveaway noises. Or was it ‘snakes?’ Oh, what silliness! But padlocks were just horrible. It was tricky enough just getting a good grip on the dial with your teeth, then twisting it with your tongue. Even when you managed that trick, well… your own snout got in the way of even seeing the padlock’s No need for there to limit the imagination with ‘or’ when ‘and’ allows for more! tiny numbers unless you tilted your neck at a certain unnatural angle.

If only she were a unicorn. Opening these locks would be THAT much easier! Her flank twinged again at the very thought of having magic; she felt so deprived, so sick of being an earth pony Ladders, chutes, AND snakes… and hippos on surfboards, too! as she made herself focus on the task before her.

0, 0, 0…

...Nope!

0, 0, 1…

...Nope.

“Come on, AJ,” she whispered to herself, “If ya do this, that’ll be like gettin’ the first three letters of Sweetie’s new alphabet! Be easier ta figure out the rest of it once ya get past this first hurdle!”

0, 0, With the hemline riding high for a sensuous portrait! Consarn it! Which number had she been on? Maybe she should start over from the beginning, just to be safe...

* * *

...13, 1, 19...

...13, 1, 20...

...13, 1, 21...

Applejack’s mind had shifted over into a hazy zone where no hours or minutes or seconds existed. Though there were numbers. One set after the next, each as Organza playsuit with chutes and ladders and snakes and surfboarding hippos! futile as the one before it. Video game addicts were said to enter a similar mental state, Applejack vaguely remembered reading from somewhere. Except that the video gamers were at least enjoying some amount of fun from their games, Organza playsuit with chutes and ladders and snakes and surfboarding hippos! weren’t they?

...13, Why aren’t you sewing?! 1, 26…

You need to be sewing with organza. 13, 1, 27…

...13, 1, Every moment you’re not sewing is a moment closer to your death, Applejack. And all those brilliant, fashionable, moneymaking strokes of genius will die with you, doomed to forever rattle around in the mind of your ghost, especially this organza masterpiece… 28...

Ah’m TRYING ta GET the organza! Applejack screamed back, mentally. Even though it did no good arguing with the Muse when she was like this. It was just like starving in a wasteland, and telling your stomach that you were TRYING to get food...

The boutique’s bell rang. “I’m hoooome!”

Huh?! Already?! Applejack let go of Lock #11, and hurried out to greet Sweetie Belle with her gladdest and most sisterly smile.

“H… how was school today, Sweetie?” asked Applejack, getting her panic under control.

“School was nice!” said the tiny little tyrant, dropping her bookbag on the floor. “Today in school, we were taught a science lesson all about ocean tides and why they happen. Gotta do a paper on it now. Did you know that Luna’s indirectly responsible for them? I wonder if that means she’s in charge of the sea?”

As Sweetie cantered into her bedroom to get started on her homework, Applejack went into the kitchen to wash the taste of metal out of her mouth. Doing her best to remember that she loved her sister, no matter how infuriating she was at the moment.

“Say, AJ?”

Applejack turned from the kitchen sink, drying her mouth on a foreleg. Her sister stood in the doorway.

“Got a question. When I left for school this morning, my codebook was face-up on my pillow. I get home from school, and find my codebook face-down on my vanity. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Ah… no. Not a thing,” insisted Applejack. “Ya sure yer rememberin’ thangs right?”

“Yes,” said Sweetie Belle. “Also, it seems that Lock #11 is absolutely slathered in somepony’s spit. It’s still dripping onto the floor, in fact. Still warm.”

“Ah’m sure that whatcha think is spit is gotta be condensation from the moisture in the…”

Sweetie narrowed her little eyebrows. “Lie to me for one moment longer, little sister, and you’ll leave me no choice but to enact the Omega-Z Judgement Day option on you!”

“NO! Ah’m sorry, Sweetie! Ah’m so, so, sorry!” They had discussed what the Omega-Z option meant, and the very thought chilled every inch of Applejack’s cutie mark. “Ah’ll admit, Ah was tryin’ ta break inta mah drawers, but Ah jest wanted ta do a little bit of unsupervised sewin’!”

Sweetie motioned for Applejack to follow her out of the kitchen, and AJ came. “You’ve been a bad girl today, little sister. Bad girls need to be punished for their bad deeds. You know what that means.”

“Please… can’t we talk this out?”

“Omega-Z Judgment Day,” Sweetie Belle warned again, with stonehearted finality.

They had come before the locked drawers Applejack had spent the whole day in front of.

“Lock #11 was the one you were trying to open, right?” Sweetie Belle asked, even as saliva dangled from its bottom like a slimy icicle.

“Right,” said Applejack in a tremulous, small voice.

“Then that’ll be the one, little sister.”

With joyless resignation, Applejack went over and took careful aim at the drawer which Lock #11 was keeping locked. Careful not to also hit any of the neighboring drawers, this time. Her hoof crashed through the eleventh drawer’s wood with great power. She and Sweetie both heard the bottle inside crack, and the weaveaters escape, consuming the organza fabric she’d been trying so desperately to get all day long. AJ clenched her entire body as her muse screamed.

DAMNHERDAMNYOUDAMNHERDAMNYOUDAMNHERDAMNYOUDAMNHERDAMNYOUKILLHERDAMNHERDAMNYOUDAMNHERDAMNYOUDAMNHERDAMNYOUDAMNHERDAMNYOUKILLYOURSELFDAMNHERDAMNYOUDAMNHERDAMNYOUDAMNHERKILLYOURSELFDAMNHERDAMNYOUDAMNHERDAMNYOUDAMNHERDAMNYOUDAMNHERDAMNYOUDAMNHERDAMNYOUDAMNHERDAMNYOUDAMNHERDAMNYOUKILLHERDAMNYOUDAMNHERDAMNYOUDAMNHERDAMNYOUDAMNHERDAMNYOUDAMNHERDAMNYOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

* * *

Alright, then, enough dawdling! Time to go from theory to practice! “Mrs. Cake? Can I borrow your sewing machine?” Fluttershy asked, flittering into the Kitchen happily.

Cup Cake looked up from the cookie dough she was rolling with a surprised look. “Oh! I’m sorry, Fluttershy dear, it slipped a gear a few days ago, so I had to send it to the shop, it’ll be back and right as rain in just a week or two!”

“Oh! Oh, ok, Thanks!” Hmmm, A week. Maybe two? No, no, far too long! She needed to get another one! Hmmm. Where, though? Applejack definitely possessed a sewing machine… but of course, she was really busy using it, wasn’t she? There was a possibility Twilight or Lyra (but not Rarity) might have an older model tucked away in some dusty corner of Golden Oaks Library, but even if they did, the yellow pegasus didn’t want to work with an antique.

It occurred to Fluttershy that she could go and convince Rainbow Dash to let her borrow the sewing machine she knew would be in her cottage. The sewing machine which had been used to make the dress their mutual fashionista friend had so proudly worn to the Grand Galloping Gala. The sewing machine which already technically belonged to Fluttershy, herself, (just as much as the Carousel Boutique technically belonged to Rarity.)

But Fluttershy decided not to. Leaving her original sewing machine in Rainbow’s care, she instead went and bought herself a fresh new model at the nearest arts and crafts shop — ironically, the one where Mrs. Cake’s was being worked on — along with a few rolls of fabric, and a sewing kit. The Cakes had both looked so surprised to see her carry these things up into her bedroom!

“So, uh, I take it you’ve taken up an interest in... tailoring?” asked Mrs. Cake, as she caught sight of the sewing machine.

“Yeah!” she agreed, as Mr. Cake helped her bring the cumbersome thing up into her bedroom. “A renewed interest, I guess you could say.”

“Renewed?” Mrs. Cake repeated, as they set it gently on a table.

“I actually used to be very good at sewing,” Fluttershy let her know. “Spike and Lyra helped me remember that, a little while ago. I’d like to give it another shot! See if I still got the knack for it.”

“I see,” said Mrs. Cake.

“Well, We’ll leave you to it, then! Have fun, and let me know how it goes!” Mr. Cake said. As they left Fluttershy’s bedroom, the yellow pegasus heard Mrs. Cake mutter, “Learn something new about ponies everyday…”

Fluttershy took all her newly-bought sewing supplies and dumped them from their shopping bags onto her bed; spools of different-colored thread, boxes of pins, shears, pincushions, a seam ripper, all the essentials the store clerk had recommended, plus two rolls of fabric just for starting out with: one green, the other white. She cut off a towel-long length of green fabric from its roll, and brought it over to the sewing machine.

Sewing machines were just so weird-looking, when you got right down to it. Almost like a bizarre mechanical bird! Very out of place on her table, really. She was afraid to move the buttons or touch the dials. It all looked so delicate!

How to even properly begin…?

* * *

An hour later, after sharing half the jokes she knew with Jestful Jests out by her grandmother’s flower beds, Nana Pinkie called Fluttershy back inside and told her to come meet her in the living room.

She found Nana Pinkie’s sewing machine resting on the table, right beside Nana, herself. Strips of wheat-colored masking tape labeled different parts of the machine. Unfamiliar words like “SPOOL CAP” and “BOBBIN PIN” and “FEED DOG.” Everything was labeled; even the hoof petal down on the floor was marked “HOOF PEDAL.”

* * *

...Ahhhh, yes! So first you sat yourself on the chair, like so. And you tucked the fabric under the bobbin pin, like so, while placing your forehooves on the fabric, just like this, and your right hind hoof on the hoof pedal, like that…!

When she closed her eyes, Nana Pinkie continued to instruct her.

* * *

“But won’t it ruin the dress if we were to chalk it up?” the little six-year old pegasus asked her grandmother.

“This is special dressmaker’s chalk,” Nana Pinkie explained patiently. “Disappears on its own in five days, or even earlier, when washed in water."

* * *

Clacka-lacka-clacka-lacka-lack...

She was like a cook given a cookbook filled with amazingly all-new recipes. Or a kid given a thrilling new video game.

Sewing was FUN! Okay, it’d never replace partying, of course! Yet this was still an art she could really sink her teeth into! Already, Fluttershy was planning costumes to make for herself, once Maredi Gras and Nightmare Night rolled around! Thank goodness she’d thought to have Nana Pinkie teach her these skills! Or rather, thank goodness the Swap was reteaching it to her, in Nana’s name!

As the bobbin pin bobbed up and down on her wonderful new machine, Fluttershy giggled as she tried to imagine how Twilight would react to all this. “How do you justify embracing all this?!” she envisioned her purple unicorn friend exclaiming. “Why aren’t you having the mother of all psychological meltdowns, right now?!”

Fluttershy reflected on this question while feeding more fabric into the machine.

Part of it is was that she really did enjoy being in the ‘role’ of The Element of Laughter, as an actress would. Once you had proper equilibrium, being a party pony was a fun and even spiritually fulfilling role to play! Every new memory the Swap sent her was like having a scriptwriter sending her screenplays to read. And since Old Pinkie Pie was such a joy-focused pony, most of those memories were sweet.

Yes, the Swap was a liar. But even in lies, there was always a grain of truth. What were stories but truth in the clothing of lies? Being the Element of Laughter offered a new outlook on her life. It was uplifting for her to realize that she, too, had always been just as capable of spreading happiness and feeling confidence the way Pinkie always must have. The only thing that had ever stopped her was herself.

Fluttershy felt like a stronger pony for being able to know The Swap for what it was and cooperate with it... rather than either rejecting it as ‘pure illusion’ or burying herself in the Swap's comforting lies. Because life, itself, was like that. A tightrope walk. An elaborate balancing act, the best of both possibilities.

* * *

”You want your thread color to be slightly darker than your fabric for a good match,” Nana Pinkie advised. “Also be sure you pay attention to how the fabric feels upon your body. Is it comfortable to wear? Does it drape well and keep its shape? Is it too heavy? Too light?”

* * *

Feeling thirsty, Fluttershy paused for a water break. As she drank, her eyes snagged on an odd sight: the photos of the old curly-maned Pinkie Pie in this room. For a brief moment, she saw herself overlaid on the pink mare, a superimposition of what was true and what the Swap showed her when she'd been fully under its spell. As she looked at the odd sight of a Pinkie and a Fluttershy in the same space and time, it faded back to the pink mare.

Hmmm. Must be an effect of using the Swap so much; it let it push its false truth on her a bit more before fading back on her realization of the true truth.

Another mare in her situation might be tempted to take these photos down… just as a mare moving into a Manehatten apartment complex might take down photos left behind by the previous tenant. But for as long as she had balloons on her flank, these pictures would remain where they were, for all to see. Even if she moved out of the Cakes’ home, someday, into a new house with a new herd… Fluttershy would be bringing all these photographs along. As reminders of some of the other reasons why she was letting herself grow comfortable in living the old Pinkie’s life.

Part of it was that she saw herself in the role of both house-sitter and babysitter for the Old Pinkie Pie. Circumstances had thrust her into ownership of all Pinkie’s possessions and life role. Up until she’d attained equilibrium, she’d ruined so much for Pinkie. Now she owed it to her to repair that damage. Restore the good name of the mare who planned the parties for Ponyvyille, and served as Element of Laughter. Maybe even make her life a little better.

Part of it was Fluttershy saw no point in melting down in existential despair over what about herself was real and fake. She had so many better things to do with her life.

* * *

“So-called ‘bargain’ threads they’ll sell you in textile shops are made with short fibers which get lumpy and fuzzy very quickly,” Nana Pinkie warned. “Never bother buying them.”

* * *

Part of it was knowing how deeply all her other friends’ mental health depended on her staying strong and stay sane, whether they knew it or not: Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, and Twilight Sparkle too. Indeed, this whole world, which relied so heavily on the Element Bearers! If Fluttershy lost her mind, it would result in the most horrific domino effect in the whole history of dominoes.

* * *

“Good pressing tools can spell the difference between a dress that looks good, and one that looks great. That means you’ll want to have an iron and an ironing board at the ready.”

* * *

Part of it was simply that she made a promise. And Fluttershy might be many things, but a promise breaker would never be one of them. Ever.

With all that said, there was one important thing she had to acknowledge: she truly did realize that almost anypony else would not be capable of adapting like this. Especially her other Element Bearing friends; it would break their minds and crush their spirits.

Loyalty would feel like she’d be betraying her ‘old self.’ Honesty would hate ‘living a lie.’ Generosity would feel the need to give it all back. Kindness would feel obligated to help the ‘old her.’ Laughter, though… good old Laughter knew how to look at the lighter, brighter side of things, and just enjoy the moment.

Fluttershy smiled to herself. So many wonderful blessings to count!

Clacka-lacka-clacka-lacka-lack, clacka-lacka-clacka-lacka-lack...

* * *

No fair...

No fair...

Applejack was remembering Hoity-Toity. Remembering all those atrocious custom-ordered dresses her friends paraded around in front of the esteemed fashion critic. Remembering how Rainbow Dash had then went and sewn her dream dress for the Grand Galloping Gala with skill to rival Applejack’s own, as a way to make amends. And now this… this from kooky, silly Fluttershy, of all ponies…

It was a simple little sundress, made from green and white cotton. Yet it was fashioned with such skill, such expertise, Applejack’s first inclination was to accuse her party-loving friend of taking credit for something Rainbow Dash must’ve made. But Applejack was very experienced with sewing at this point in her life. Enough to recognize that the stitchwork was not Rainbow Dash’s. A closely similar style, perhaps (no doubt Rainbow had given the other pegasus some pointers,) but still distinctly, uniquely Fluttershy’s. And the dress looked so good. So wearable.

So unfair!!!

“Ooooooh! It’s reeaallly pretty!” squealed Sweetie, hopping up and down in excitement. “Fluttershy, could you make one for me too?! One my size?! I’ll pay you for it!”

For once, her tyrannical little traitor of a ‘big sister’ had the decency to act chagrined when Applejack shot her an angry, betrayed glower.

“Actually, Sweetie Belle, you wouldn’t want this,” said Fluttershy, a little sadly. “I kind of botched it up.”

“Botched it?” Applejack and Sweetie repeated in disbelief.

Fluttershy span around so the sisters could see the tail end, which was badly stitched; barely hanging onto the rest of the dress.

“The truth is, I used to sew when I was a filly. Figured I’d give it another shot, just for fun! But it turns out I got quite a bit to relearn. And what better place for a refresher course on sewing than our very own local fashionista, Applejack!”

“Ah don’t… know if Ah’d actually be the best gal fer…”

“Come on, AJ!” Fluttershy insisted brightly. “We’ll have TONS of fun together, I know it! I even brought my own fabric!”

“Yer own fabric?” Applejack was so tempted. That horrible little brat hadn’t just locked away all the textiles, but EVERYTHING. The dishrags. The bathroom towels. The shower curtain. The paper napkins, for crying out loud! Oh, what a lovely little jacquard she’d made out of napkins, that one time...

“Rats! This couldn’t come at a worse time!” Sweetie huffed, looking towards the clock. “I’ve got to get to school, right now! You sure you can handle yourself with her?”

“I don’t think there’ll be any problems, Sweetie Belle,” the yellow pegasus told her.

As Sweetie Belle slipped on her school saddlebags, she narrowed her eyes at Applejack. “I’m warning you, little sister, you’re gonna be one sorry filly if you misbehave while I’m gone!”

Then Sweetie Belle galloped out the door. Had Fluttershy cracked one of her jokes at that point, especially with Sweetie’s scolding as the punchline, AJ might well have demanded she leave… fabric or no fabric. But as her yellow friend strode past Applejack, it again struck the fashionista how skillfully woven all the rest of the dress was, apart from that back end.

Next to the perfect execution of the majority of the dress, the shoddiness of the back end almost seemed too stupid a mistake. Almost as if… no, no, that was impossible. Fluttershy really was just an amateur seamstress. No chance at all that the bad tailoring had been a deliberate error.

* * *

“So you think that a leopard-print yoke would be a hit with the likes of Big Macintosh?” Fluttershy asked.

They two of them were in Applejack’s downstairs sewing room; the one with the humannequin in it. They were both working on repairing Fluttershy’s dress.

“Not jest the likes of Big Macintosh!” said Applejack, obediently parroting the words her Muse spoke in her head. “Everypony’s gonna wanna have their own! Why wear one that’s plain, when yew can get yers in an exhilarating design, all dun up ta look like the fur of a zoo critter, ta dazzling effect! Ah’ll also hammer in pumpkin-shaped studs, which’ll make fer an exquisite final note!”

“But barely anypony wears yokes if they’re not pulling plows,” said Fluttershy. “Except for Big Mac, but I think he’s gotten so used to having that yoke on him, he’s forgotten that it’s even there.”

Applejack laughed a bit at that.

“Besides, good clothes are ones that suit the place their wearer’s at; and I would think leopard print would clash in a farm environment.”

Peasant! Applejack heard her Muse screech. Churl! Uncultured yellow yokel! Switch over to a lazy daisy stitch!

Fluttershy frowned as she observed Applejack do just this. “You’re going for a lazy daisy all of a sudden?”

“Sorry, Fluttershy,” said Applejack, dropping her needle. “Ah was jest bein’ spurred by the whims and whimsies of mah Muse. Probably ya wouldn’t understand…”

“You’re wrong, Applejack.” Her unusual tone of quiet seriousness grabbed AJ’s attention at once. “I understand perfectly well what it’s like to have a Muse.”

“Y... ya do?” she asked as you will resume with a fishbone stitch Fluttershy nodded emphatically.

“Sure! I may not have called it a ‘Muse,’ but it was a nagging voice in my head that was always making me go completely over-the-top. It was REALLY domineering, let me tell you! Every time it spoke, it was like having big red letters carved into the inside of my brain with the sharpest pencil ever! And sometimes my cutie mark felt like it was trying to rip itself right off my flank from all the shaking! Sorry if that was a little gross of me.”

Applejack let out a breath of relieved now a ladder chain stitch amazement. To think, there’d been somepony out there who KNEW what it was like! Somepony she could talk to! And it was one of her best friends!

“No! No, it’s okay! If’n ya don’t mind mah sayin’ so, Fluttershy, ya seem way more in control o’ yourself than the last time Ah seen ya. Ah mean, basting stitch here ya all making dresses, and everythang, and ya ain’t been at all, y’know, jokesy.”

“Jokes are just one way of spreading joy to other ponies,” Fluttershy told her. “And it’s impressive that you know such a wide variety of different stitches, but you might want to stick to just the buttonhole stitches we’ve been using, instead of all the different ones, one right after another.”

Suppressing an urge to swear, Applejack bent to grab the seam ripper so she could undo what she you will not listen to her you will disregard all her asinine suggestions which are all bad idiot comedy, clowns have no place in a boutique of high repute and you will move onto a whipstitch, then a topstitch, then a...

“This is the way Ah’ve gotta be!” she hollered, picking up her needle, and starting up with an extremely sloppy whipstitch. “As a true fashionista and as the Element of Generosity!”

Fluttershy made a face like an unknown smell had entered her nose. “Mind running that by me?”

Applejack tucked her hat down so that its brim covered her eyes.

“Ah’ve got ta give ponykind the finest, highest-end and most innovative lineup of clothes ever made. Nothing less than full effort! And Ah’m willin’ ta try anythang, experiment with everythang, until Ah git a brainwave that’ll change all fashion! It’ll be the ultimate Generosity: a gift given to the world! Fer that purpose, Ah’ve sacrificed so much time, so much business, so much exposure ta open sunlight… and mah relationship with friends ‘n’ family have suffered, but…!”

The fashionista felt a hoof on her shoulder. “I had the exact same problem you’re having now, AJ. I’d forgotten what my Element of Laughter really meant. I thought I just wasn’t telling good-enough jokes. But Twilight and Lero and the others helped me, and now I can see the forest from the trees again!”

“So what’s the big secret, then?” Applejack asked, turning around and pushing her hat back up. “What can Ah do?”

Fluttershy thought a bit. “Wellllll… I’m not an expert on generosity, but, well- It’s about more than just giving.”

AJ stared at Fluttershy. “Now, Fluttershy, I don’t know how else to say this, but that plain don’t make no sense.”

“No, no, stay with me! It’s about receiving, too.”

“Now… correct me if I’m wrong, Fluttershy, but receiving stuff seems to be the exact opposite of generosity.”

Fluttershy giggled at that. “No, no, not you getting, others getting!”

That garner a blank stare. “Meaning what?” asked Applejack.

“I mean, you need givers and receivers. I mean, it’s really wonderful that you’re trying to be this big generous giver. But if nobody’s wants what you’re trying to give, then that’s not generosity at all. That’s waste. Wasted time. Wasted effort. Wasted resources. Like throwing a big jamboree nopony wants to attend. And waste isn’t what you’re all about, right, AJ? Waste isn’t what your cutie mark is all about about, either, right? And, and, and, if there were other things you could give that others wanted, and you don’t give them that because you’re so busy with the thing they don’t want… isn’t that a bit selfish, too? I mean… there’s a little filly that needs a big sister to be… big sisterly! and friends that need your friendship. And you’ve been a teeny bit miserly with those lately...”

And Applejacks eyes were opened.

* * *

What orotund claptrap. What fustian drivel. This is not worth listening to. Her dress is not worth any more of your invaluable time. You shall instead focus on a new project. It shall be psychedelic lurex stretch pants with a contrasting brown satin panel across the front, and you will also work in an asymmetrical neckline for a different approach to eveningwear that’s such to make an impact!

No. answered Applejack, now seizing her seam ripper.

What do you mean, “no?”

Ah mean it sounds wasteful. So Ah won’t do it. she replied, tearing through all the stitches the Muse had made her sew with a vengeance.

Applejack felt her Muse try to squeeze down on her brain. She imagined her brain heating up like a lump of coal in a furnace, too hot to handle! Her Muse withdrew.

Ah remember yew saying something’ ta me earlier on, Miss Muse. “Fashionistas must never be fat.”

That’s right. Piggishness is unbecoming of any true fashionista.

Fair ‘nough. But lemme float a new idea yer way, now. Metaphors ain’t mah strong spot, Musey, but all this extravagance a’ yers, all this excess... ain’t THAT a kind of ‘fat?’ Pourin’ junk all over a dress and hopin’ it’ll look pretty sounds just as dumb as pourin’ junk inta yer body and hopin’ it’ll look pretty.

The georgette... the organza… the lurex… the gold lamé…!

...Don’t instantly make good outfits. As we both well know.

So what are you suggesting?! Slipshod needlework?! Bargain bin fabrics?! Threadbare merchandise worthy of some third world factory’s assembly line?!

Didn’t say that. Ain’t like “fat” and “bare bones" are mah only choices. There’s also “muscle.”

Muscle?! The word sounded unnatural and mispronounced in her Muse’s prissy, froufrou voice.

Yeah, muscle.

That wonderful word sounded very natural in Applejack’s own voice. Almost like calling out the name of a long-lost friend.

Ponies should always have more muscle than fat, Ah reckon. Mah clothes should be practical, like muscles. Durable, like muscle. Also gorgeous to look upon, and wonderful ta have lots of. Like muscle. Form follow function. And function is elegant, precise. Beautiful.

Mentally, it felt to Applejack as though her Muse were trying to force a bridle into her mouth. Shrieking an angry stream of epauletted cheongsam crepe gaucho ombré pleated brocade appliquéd maillot filigreed tartan tankini!!! barely comprehensible noise. Which didn’t even sounding like legitimate words any longer. More like A-grade psychobabble.

But AJ was having NONE of that. She bit right through her Muse’s bridle like it was so much hay.

* * *

Fluttershy was amazed at how Applejack was restitching her dress with the dead-set look of a brawler in a serious fight. The yellow pegasus almost missed how AJ’s diamond cutie mark faded for the briefest second before returning back.

* * *

Ah am NOT yer sweatshop worker, buckaroo! Applejack snarled to the thing that had never been her friend. If Ah am gonna be a fashionista, Ah wanna be a STRONG one, in all senses of the word! So if we’re gonna continue workin’ together, Muse, ya’ll need ta repeat after me: “Ah’m gonna hafta change fer yew, Applejack, cuz yer in charge and Ah ain’t.”

I… I’m Ah’m going to gonna have to hafta… STOP! STOP THIS! WHAT ARE YOU YEW DOING?! HOW ARE YOU YEW DOING THIS?! HOW?!

Applejack was remaking her Muse. Pounding her furiously into a newer, more manageable shape. The Muse was like soft clay. Like raw dough.

Like uncut cloth.

Yew don’t even SOUND like me, Musey! Ya sound like some completely different mare who ain’t me! So now, while Ah work on this dress with mah good friend, Fluttershy, yer gonna try it again ‘n’ again ‘n’ AGAIN, ‘til yew git it RIGHT! So once again: “Ah’m gonna hafta change fer yew, Applejack, cuz yer in charge and Ah ain’t!” SAY IT, LOUD ‘N’ CLEAR!!!!

* * *

A sign has been posted out front, on the door of the Carousel Boutique, which Lero, Lyra, Twilight Sparkle, and Rainbow Dash were now reading:

TEMPORARILY CLOSED AT THIS LOCATION
PLEASE VISIT US AT THE PONYVILLE MARKETPLACE
GRAND REOPENING COMING SOON!

“I don’t know about this,” Twilight said nervously. “The Carousel Boutique closing? That’s the opposite of what we wanted to happen!”

“Fluttershy told us that everything was ‘peachy keen’ with Applejack. Besides, the sign says it’s only a ‘temporary’ closing here,” Lero said, tapping the word ‘temporarily’ with his finger.

“Let’s just look for Applejack at the marketplace!” suggested Rainbow Dash, since that had been the original plan to begin with.

Once they were there, it took a little bit of searching, but they soon came upon an large and entirely-new tent. A tent with one of the Carousel Boutique’s ponyquins inside it… and two mares acting together as merchants. Not just Applejack but Fluttershy, as well.

“Thank yew very kindly, ma’am,” AJ said to the mare whom she had rung up on her cash register. There were five other ponies behind her in line, and five more browsing through the merchandise.

“Please come back again!” Fluttershy added, right next to AJ.

“Whoa…” said Lero. He started forward towards Applejack and Fluttershy’s tent, but feels a gentle pull of unicorn magic tug his arm back.

“They’re selling snacks at that tent over there,” Lyra told him. “Why don’t we buy some and just wait a few minutes? It seems they’re in the middle of some pretty big sales.”

So the four of them bought snacks, and sat at a nearby bench. Even after Lero had eaten through his bag of potato chips, it took a while for the crowd inside Applejack’s tent to die down.

“Howdy, y’all!” AJ greeted, as they came inside. “Welcome ta the Carousel Boo-teek!”

“Where we’re sleek with mystique!” said Fluttershy. “Come sneak a peek!”

“Good to see you, AJ!” said Twilight. “You’re looking much better since the last time I saw you.”

This was very true. In addition to her usual hat, Applejack was wearing jeans, a flannel shirt, and barely any makeup. And she looked impossibly younger than she had the last time Lero saw her. Well-rested and vibrant. Practically her original self.

“Thanks, Twi!”

“Why’ve you set up shop here in the marketplace, AJ?” asked Lero.

For the first time today, Applejack gave a little frown. “Well, one of the first rules of good salesmareship is: location, location, location. And fer right now, the Ol’ Boutique’s jest a bad location. Ponies associate that buildin’ with stupidity and bad fashion, so they won’t even step inside.”

“So I suggested we move out here, to the marketplace, where customers could get a good eyeful of the goods!” said Fluttershy.

“But mark mah words,” said Applejack, pressing her hat even firmer against her head, “we’ll reopen the Ol’ Boutique again, once ponies know that ‘Carousel’ once again means ‘quality.’”

As Lero looked around at the merchandise, he definitely had to agree. These clothes were a completely different breed from those the Old Rarity had fashioned. Or the “Old” Applejack, for that matter.

He saw clothing for both mares and stallions: jeans, cargo pants, long-sleeved shirts, T-shirts, some jackets. A few colorful striped designs seemed to show Fluttershy’s contribution. But even the most feminine of the dresses, blouses, and skirts were beautiful for their very simplicity, their conservatism. Especially after all the grotesque circus costumes Applejack had made under the influence of her ‘Muse.’ Their utilitarianism however, didn’t imply they lacked artistry. While Rarity’s style often went for the obvious or ostentatious, the beauty here was simple and subtle; tiny hints of embroidery here and there, cuts and styles that emphasized the natural beauty of its wearer rather than its own.

Applejack beamed with pride at the approval in all their eyes. “Had a bit of a brainwave,” she explained. “When ya get right down to it, Ponyville’s a very homey, agricultural community. So instead of makin’ all sorts of artsy threads for highfalutin’ ponies way out in Canterlot, jest go with clothes that homey, agricultural folks can use in their day-to-day lives. More practical, ain’t it?”

“Sure is!” said Rainbow Dash. “But Fluttershy, why are YOU selling dresses?”

Applejack slung an arm around Fluttershy’s shoulder. “Didn’t she tell ya? She’s mah part-time partner now!”

“Really?!”

“Yes-sir-ree-bob-a-roonie!” agreed Fluttershy, who looked so cute in the pink T-shirt and shorts she wore. When she assumed a sitting position, Lero could see the front of her T-shirt read: BE KIND & LAUGH LOTS. “We’re business partners! I’ve discovered I have a real talent for fashion, and I’m be interested in developing it a little further! Don’t worry, though; I haven’t quit working at Sugarcube Corner, and I’ll still be every bit as gung ho about parties as everypony remembers me being!”

She gave a quick glance at her Balloon Mark.

“Gotta stay true to that side of myself, after all!” Then she looked back up at Herd Bellerophon. “But I also want to stay true to this newly discovered side of me too. The one that developed these dressmaking skills long ago. So… maybe a couple less parties, y’know?”

“Are you sure you’ll be able to juggle all that?” Lero asked her.

“You betcha! It’s all a matter of keeping balance in your life. Keeping equilibrium.”

Then Applejack looked around, past Lero. “Is that…?”

Lero turned in time to see something small, scaly, and purple duck behind the back of some other merchant’s tent. Applejack had definitely spotted it too. She left her own tent, and went over, uncovering Spike behind the other tent’s flap. The little dragon cowered back from her, shaking and in tears.

“Please, AJ… I know you can’t stand the sight of me. I know you hate having me around. I promise I’ll go, I just needed to see that you’re okay. I’m sorry.”

Now Applejack started tearing up as well. “Oh, yew sweet, sweet boy,” she said softly, enveloping Spike in a huge hug, and planting a heartfelt kiss on his forehead. “Yew done nothing but good, li’l guy. It’s me that did ya a great big wrong for blowing up on yew, so unfairly. And Ah’m fifty kinds of sorry.”

She held him for several more seconds. “Ah want yew ta know that yew ain’t never gonna be unwelcome at the Carousel Boutique, ever again. And yer always gonna hold a warm and special place in mah heart.”

Smiling, Spike stretched out and kissed Applejack on her nose. She smiled back.

“C’mere, ya li’l scamp. There’s a special present Ah’ve been meaning ta give ya.”

“A present? Really?” asked Spike, following her back to her tent.

“Yes, sir! Oh, ‘n’ yew too, Lero!”

“Me?”

Applejack gave Spike and Lero each a shopping bag, full of clothes. She motioned towards a changing room, right near the cash register. They stepped inside.

“Now, if them duds Ah made ya ain’t to yer likin’, yew can jest give ‘em back,” she called inside the changing room. “Ah won’t mind one bit.”

“I… look… AWESOME!!!” Spike crowed.

Spike and Lero both stepped out into the open, dressed in the new clothes AJ had made for them. Smartly embroidered denim pants, long-sleeved, simple-checkered pattern button-up T-shirts, with a complimentary colored bandana around the neck, with a perfectly-tailored duster over it all. Despite the similarities, lots of subtle details gave each personality and individuality.

The embroidery on Spike’s pants was more angled and pointed, while Lero’s was more looping and flowing. Spike’s shirt’s hatching was an angled shepherd's check, colored green, with a matching paisley-patterned bandanna, that he'd tied with a visible knot on the right side; the left widening and ruffling out as it wrapped around his neck. Lero’s red shirt was a straight-oriented gingham check. His bandanna was solid red, folded evenly around his neck with no visible knot.

Both dusters were brown, but Spike’s was cut specifically to allow his spikes and tail through, while Lero’s had larger, utilitarian pockets. Lastly, large-buckled belts topped them off, Spike’s was gold with inlaid rubies in a familiar pattern, while not fire-rubies themselves, they took on a striking resemblance to the original heart-shaped gem that Spike had given Rarity, but now was in AJ’s possession. Lero’s was similar gold, but the image was of a mother-of-pearl white rose and a turquoise feather, encircled with wires made of precious metal, colored purple and green.

Lero would say that he looked like a modern-day cowboy; the best-dressed hombre on the dude ranch. The outfit came without any hat, or campiness, or even a whiff of bad taste. Looking over at Spike, it was clear that no superhero’s cape and tights could’ve have made him happier. Lero already had a hunch it might be days before Spike would take these clothes off to be washed. He had once owned a Star Wars shirt like that, long ago when he’d been Spike’s age.

“AJ, you… you didn’t need to do this for me.”

“Hogwash!” laughed the fashionista. “That there’s mah show of thanks fer wearing mah clothes when no one else would. Fer all ya did fer mah other friends… ‘specially Fluttershy. And fer bein’ such a fine role model ta Spike.”

“Role model?” Lero repeated.

“I dunno whether yew guys are like brothers or dad ‘n’ son…”

“A little of both, really…” Spike said, looking up to him.

“But yer both good for each other.”

“Shucks,” Lero bent, hugging Applejack and Spike as well. But at this point, other ponies were passing them by, entering into Applejack and Fluttershy’s tent, drawn to the fine clothing on display.

“Applejack, Fluttershy, why not come over our place later tonight?” Twilight suggested.

“Sounds good!” said AJ, returning to behind the cash register.

“We can make a party of it!” said Fluttershy.

As he walked away with his family, Lero whispered to Twilight: “Five down, zero to go.” It had been a long time since he felt so accomplished.

“Lero!”

The human looked up. Rarity was above him, floating on one of her cloud platforms. Lightly licking her chops.

“My, that’s quite the outfit you’re wearing! It makes you look so very…”

“Princely?” he suggested.

Rarity laughed. “Rustically ravishing.”

“Whoa!” He felt Rainbow Dash scoot underneath him, his rear end touching the center of her back. Then he was hanging onto Dash as she flew into the air, bringing Lero over to Rarity’s cloud.

“Figured you two might wanna talk closer to each other,” Rainbow Dash said.

Once again, Rarity’s horn lit up, and Lero felt the cloud-walking spell on his body. Sitting on the cloud felt about as good as sitting on his couch at home. And with Rarity snuggling into his right and Rainbow Dash doing the same on his left, oh man…

“You helped her too, didn’t you?” Rarity asked, leaning over the side of the cloud platform, to stare down at all the bustling activity taking place down by Applejack and Fluttershy’s tent.

“Applejack?” asked Lero. “Well, it was more of a team effort, this time. Spike and Fluttershy took the lead, with her.”

“But wasn’t it your idea to have Fluttershy help Applejack?” asked Rainbow Dash, nestling in by him closer. “That’s what Spike told me.”

“It was,” said Lero. “But…”

“Looks like it worked out well,” Rarity said. There was a strangely distant, dreamy quality to her voice as her eyes stayed focused on Applejack’s tent. “...wonder what it must be like, running a boutique… bet it’s not a bad life...”

“Rarity?” Lero asked.

Rarity blinked and looked over to him. “Sorry. Just idle thoughts.”

He looked over curiously at Rarity’s cutie mark, which appeared as solid as ever. “Rarity, are you… happy?” he asked, awkwardly. “You know, with your life as it is?”

Her smile brought so much warmth to his heart. “You make me incredibly happy, Lero,” she told him. “I couldn’t imagine life being any happier.”

“Hafta disagree with you there, Rarity,” said Rainbow Dash.

Lero meant to check Rainbow Dash’s butterflies, but found himself looking at her wonderful smiling face first.

“The way things have been going here in Herd Bellerophon, I think that tomorrow’s gonna find a way to be even better than today, and the day after tomorrow’s gonna be better than that. Don’t know how, but it will.”

Laughing merrily, Rarity said, “I love how you think, Rainbow Dash! Yes, I quite agree: the next day will be even happier.”

Lero leaned backward until he lay completely against the cloud platform like his bedroom mattress.

“Then that’s how we’re gonna take it,” he told the two ponies with him. “One beautiful day at a time, together.”

Lero Michealides stared upward, basking in Celestia’s shining sun, and observing a pair of bluebirds circle around each other in the azure sky. Only for his vision to fill with the faces of Rainbow and Rarity, both bending down to pepper him with kisses.

* * *

By the look of the moonlit sky outside, Princess Celestia could tell that her sister was having fun this particular night. Celestia, herself, was experiencing the beginnings of a large headache. Her mind felt like an egg being beaten against the side of a pan.

“Your Highness?”

Celestia turned back towards her guest, increasing the gentleness of her smile. “Sorry, it’s just that your words were giving me much to ruminate upon. Please continue, Mr. Clang, you were saying something about how you don’t like cymbals anymore?”

Cymbal Clang was a gray-coated earth pony stallion. If you really focused your eyes, it was possible to make out the outline of the cymbals on his flank that Mr. Clang had painstakingly painted gray, so as to blend in with his coat. Making him look like a fully grown blank flank.

“I don’t just ‘not like’ them!” he snapped. “I think cymbals are horrible, evil contraptions! Unfit to be regarded as musical instruments! I’ve burned every musical recording I own where I can hear a cymbal crashing! Every day I wake up, I am filled with new shame by my youthful indiscretion, of being so beguiled by that awful noise-producer as to have it stamped on my body!”

“And you instead wish to pursue birdwatching?” asked Celestia.

“Oh, yes!” said Cymbal Clang, in rapturous tones. “Ornithology is divine.”

“So go ahead and watch birds. Your cutie mark isn’t stopping you, is it?”

“You misunderstand my point!” Cymbal Clang growled, turning his painted-over mark towards the sun princess. “This icon is not a part of who I am! It is an insult to me now! I want it off! Removed! Replaced with something more representative of who I really am!”

And there it was. Her headache, fully hatched, and shooting pain through her mind. She allowed herself to rub at it with a hoof.

“Your Highness, I’m just trying to help you have a better understanding of what it means to have Cutie Mark Dysmorphic Disorder. All the many, many ponies I speak on behalf of have stories just like my own!”

“What happened?” Celestia asked suddenly.

That caught Cymbal off-guard. “What?”

“You got your cutie mark using cymbals. You don’t get a cutie mark just by stumbling into something you’re good at. Cutie marks might represent a ‘special talent’, but it’s special not just because you’re good at it, but because it’s special to you. What changed that for you, Mr. Clang?”

Cymbal Clang stared at Celestia in silence for several seconds, dumbfounded, before finding his voice. “That’s… not relevant for the point at hand. What the point is, is the discomfort and distress my cutie mark creates for me now.”

Celestia had to repressed the urge to roll her eyes and unleash a long-suffering sigh. Instead, she attempted a more conciliatory deflection. “I feel for you,” she empathized, “But you know there is no magical means for ponies to change their cutie marks…”

“Oh, but we believe there is,” countered Cymbal Clang, with a shine in his eyes that Celestia did not care for at all. “Which is why we CMDD sufferers are desperate for full disclosure on what happened when the hu…”

The stallion stopped mid-sentence. There were a number of ponies in the world used to the sight of green dragon fire materializing from out of nowhere and producing mail; and Mr. Cymbal Clang was not one of them. It could not have come at a more fortuitous time… and it was a lot of mail, at that!

“Please forgive me, Mr. Clang,” said Celestia, turning her back on the stallion. “These letters represent a matter of national security I need to look into at once. I’m afraid we’ll have to cut our meeting short.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” said Cymbal Clang, with an undeniably forced look of understanding.

Once he was gone, thank goodness, Celestia breathed a sigh of relief, before counting the envelopes Spike had sent her. There were nine of them, in total. One from all six of the Element Bearers, plus Lyra Heartstrings, Lero Michealides, and Spike. The envelope containing Fluttershy’s letter had the words ‘PLEASE READ ME FIRST’ underneath her name.

* * *

Dear Princess Celestia,

Hello! No doubt you’re really surprised to be getting nine letters at once. Don’t you worry, though, nothing bad’s happened to us at all! Me, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and everyone in Herd Bellerophon are all together at Twilight’s library, having ourselves a good old-fashioned slumber party! Even Lero and Spike are in on it (though we’re not making them do any of our girly stuff if they don’t want!)

We got to talking, and we realized that it’s been a LONG time since any of us wrote to you about important friendship lessons we learned! So in between our s’mores-cooking and games of spin-the-bottle, we’ve all written to you! Our little way of sharing the joy! So without further ado, heeeeeerrrre’s Fluttershy’s!

I’ve learned there’s more than one way to get ponies to smile and be happy: Kindness! Sometimes, the simplest show of Kindness can lift your friends out of a bad mood better than the funniest joke you know. In fact, I find it’s important to infuse your comedy with Kindness. Otherwise, your jokes can turn pointless, or selfish, or even hurtful!

Hugs and Smiles Forever,

Fluttershy

* * *

Dear Princess Celestia,

I’ve learned that while it’s important to take your work and your chores seriously, there’s a point where you can just take it too far and it turns into something ugly. You mess yourself up because you’re so miserable; doing all the work wrong and taking it out on your family, which only makes you more miserable so you do more of your work wrong and treat your family worse, and the vicious cycle keeps on spinning you further and further down, like a drill. Ain’t no way to live, no way.

Working hard is important, but feeling good is important, too. You gotta spend some moments for smiles and hugs and Laughter.

Your Faithful Subject,

Pinkie Pie

* * *

Dear Princess Celestia,

I’ve been lying to myself in a lot of ways, these past few months. My artistic inspiration had gone completely off the rails. I still don’t quite get what caused it to go bananas, and maybe I never will, but that’s all probably besides the point. Where once I created gorgeous masterpieces of fashion, I could now only create eye-scalding messes. That, in itself, was terrible enough.

But I think I made it all a billion times worse by being in denial. I went along with every screwball idea my inner muse cooked up, telling myself that this new eyesore would be the one that’d turn my luck around, even though I knew better deep down. This cost me untold thousands of bits. But I also took out my frustration on my sister and Spike, convincing myself they were ruining me, when nothing could be further from the truth. And I made out like these were all generous acts I was doing! I was lying to myself, to them, and everypony else.

I’ve learned that Honesty really is the best policy, especially with yourself! Not just as a general rule, but especially when you’ve lost your way in life. Honesty is what gets you back on track with your life. Honesty is the first step to rediscovering your true self.

Very Sincerely,

Applejack

* * *

Dear Princess Celestia,

I’ve learned, from watching my beloved Lero, how many different ways you can show Generosity. You can be generous with your time; as Lero did when he spent a great many hours helping my friend, Rainbow Dash with her animals, on a daily basis. You can be generous with money, as Lero did when he financed that extravagant birthday party for Berry Punch and Ruby Pinch. You can be generous with your heart, as he is every day with all of us in Herd Bellerophon.

And yet, Generosity is a gruelingly demanding road to travel. Helping Rainbow Dash exhausted my sweet prince, and the animals were far from kind to his body. I can’t bring myself to write how much money it cost to hire all those actors and special effects ponies for the party. And I know that giving up so much for others has been emotionally fatiguing, as well. But I suppose true Generosity requires some degree of sacrifice. Otherwise, it’s more like dispensing with a surplus, if that makes sense.

I am proud to write, though, that all his Generosity bore beautiful fruit. All the goodness he’s shown Rainbow has resulted in us gaining a lovely new addition to our herd, (well, several hundred, actually, if you include all her animals!) Both he and I agree that it was worth every bit we spent on the party. Not only did it help Fluttershy out of the state she was in, I daresay, she’s become better than ever! (The party was something of its own reward, too!) And of course, we all return the love he shows us.

I believe I will resolve to become a more generous pony, myself, in the future.

Yours Loyally,

Rarity

* * *

Dear Princess Celestia,

I went through a living nightmare in which all the animals I had come to know and love went wild, turning completely disobedient and mean. No matter what I did, I was jinxed, I felt completely alone! I couldn’t even bring myself to leave my own house!

Then help came from the very last person I expected it from: Lero. He told me it was because he remembered how I had helped him out and taken him in when he had first arrived in our world. I suppose you could call it ‘historic’ in its own way. But it really wasn’t any huge out-of-the-way thing for me, and I know neither of us were in love with each other back then.

I’ve learned from Lero that Loyalty can be a funny, unpredictable thing, sometimes. The ones who you expect would be most loyal to you, (including those you’ve raised since infancy,) can turn on you viciously. And others, whom you would expect very little Loyalty at all from, will turn out to be the most dependable of all.

It’s important to learn who’s really loyal to you and who isn’t. Fortunately, I know who all my most truehearted friends are: the eight other ponies who’ve also sent letters to you in this bundle! I look forward to an entire lifetime of showing them an equal amount of Loyalty!

Your Devoted Subject,

Rainbow Dash

* * *

Dear Princess Celestia,

Several months ago, I began a long sabbatical, visiting three of the most renowned grandmasters of the Still Way, and share in their wisdom. Never would I have dreamt that my real learning would’ve begun when I arrived back home in Ponyville!

I won’t go into all the details here in this letter, but some of my greatest lessons was the importance of keeping cool and composed, especially while your loved ones are falling apart at the seams. That a few white lies, here and there, can help keep the world from plunging into chaos. That ‘all the world’s a stage, and we are but players,’ to quote what a very wise human once said.

With Deepest Respect,

Lyra Heartstrings

* * *

Dear Princess Celestia,

I’ve learned it’s an easy mistake to put your own wants and needs ahead of your family. And taking your family for granted is an even easier mistake! Recently, we in Herd Bellerophon came very close to losing a member of our family for good. Once the reality of that sunk in, I’ve never felt more horrible about myself.

Looking back at all the days I could have spent being with her, but instead was busy being self-absorbed with my own stuff, I felt like a really rotten dragon. We’re very lucky, though, and she’s still with us now. And I’ve learned to appreciate everyone in my family and put them first, and spend more time hanging out with them.

Because it’s always possible for something freaky to happen, and you could lose family members at any time. So be good to your family while you have them, because it’s not worth regretting the great relationship you could’ve had with them once it’s too late and they’re gone.

Yours Truly,

Spike

P.S. - I also learned that Discord is a gigantic snothead… but everypony knew that already.

* * *

Dear Princess Celestia,

Over the course of my recent studies, there have been some outcomes which I could not have foreseen; outcomes which have left me very regretful. But when I look back on it all from this point in time, there’s one thing I regret above everything else. I let myself grow completely overwhelmed by fear and shame, to the point where I had effectively paralyzed myself.

This was a mistake, because those nearest and dearest to me were going through terrible ordeals. They didn’t need a Twilight Sparkle who was scared stiff and had shut herself away from the world. They needed a Twilight able to lend a helping hoof in their time of need. It took me a long while, but I realized how foolish I was being and did what I needed to do.

My studies are still ongoing. While I cannot guarantee that there will never be another unforeseeable outcome, I have learned how to handle myself better, even under dire circumstances.

Your Faithful Student,

Twilight Sparkle

* * *

Dear Princess Celestia,

This is my first time writing one of these letters to you. It’s honestly hard for me not to feel a little childish about it, I almost feel like I’m back in elementary school, writing an assignment for a teacher, something I thought I’d left behind long ago. Yet when I think back on all I’ve been through, I have learned a lot, and I really can’t think of any finer recipient to pass these lessons onto than you, Your Royal Majesty. So here goes:

Sometimes, the world you know gets flipped, turned upside-down and shaken all around, turning completely topsy-turvy. People you thought would always be strong turn weak. And those you figured weren’t so strong prove you wrong. Everyone’s suddenly thrust into all-new roles. Roles they never asked to be in. Roles they aren’t remotely suited for. Life’s funny that way. And as much as you’d like to set everything back to how it was before, you aren’t the one capable of fixing the problem the way it needs to be fixed: someone else is.

Yet it’s still important that you roll up your sleeves and take an active stand against the epic tidal wave of garbage. Giving it your all, every single day, makes a major difference. I’ve learned that, in doing so, you still accomplish a lot. You surpass everyone’s expectations of you and the expectations you have of yourself, going beyond what you thought were your limits.

Adjustments can be hellishly brutal to deal with. But strength comes from how you endure and how you adapt to all the challenging weirdness life throws your way. And change isn’t always bad, either. You see new sides of yourself, and you see you new sides of others that might’ve never come to the surface. Sides you come to cherish and adore.

Even in a topsy-turvy world, it’s possible to create happiness.

Your Faithful Subject,

Bellerophon Michealides

* * *

Celestia felt ice tickle the inside of her throat. The letters all fell from her telekinetic grip. Why… by the sound of things, it seemed as though her faithful student and all her family had come to terms with this state of affairs! Perhaps even not just ‘come to terms,’ but had learned to embrace this madness! No, surely not. Surely Twilight hadn’t given up on finding a cure for her friends! Surely Twilight would still find a way to complete Starswirl’s dangerous unfinished masterpiece! Surely she wouldn’t be satisfied with letting this be the end?

Author's Note

I apologize to EVERYONE for this chapter taking so long to write. I was moving into a new state, adapting to a new demanding job... and frankly, the intricacies of sewing was very tough for me to wrap my head around. I hope it was worth the wait! My thanks, again, to Rikmach and SpinelStride for all their help.