//------------------------------// // Chapter Two: Where Everything Goes Wrong Forever // Story: The Demesne of the Reluctant Twilight Sparkle // by MrNumbers //------------------------------// Faster wings! Faster! Faster faster faster faster faster faster! Okay, so, it’s rapidly becoming self evident that, whilst barely faster than the royal chariot, I’m still pretty certain I enchanted Tank’s rotor to be capable of faster speeds than this. Even if I’m really proud of that particular piece of work, if I do say so myself, it still means I’ve literally made tortoises able to fly faster than I am, currently. That won’t do. That won’t do at all. Now, what would Shining Armour do if he were trying to make an alicorn fly faster? If Cadance is any indication he’d pitch me like a javelin, so, maybe I need to phrase that particular question a little better. What would my brother say in this situation that wouldn’t resort to treating me like an Equestrian Games event? ‘Arrogance and ignorance go hand in hand’? Hmm, not quite applicable, but still worth remembering.’The Hammer Of Justice Crushes You’? No, that’s just his Paladin’s dumb catchphrase in Ogres and Oubliettes. Maybe something more... militant in nature? ‘If you aren’t cheating, you aren’t trying.’ Well, I don’t see how I could cheat at flying so- - wait. Can I cheat at flying? I feel the first traces of a grin tugging at my face. Sure, I’m rewarded with a few bugs in my teeth for the trouble, but at least I have a plan forming. Now all I need is a suitable portmanteau for a mission name, as everypony knows that the success of the mission hinges on its name just as much as anything else! Thus, I come to the conclusion that- Operation: Glideport! -Will be a complete success! See, the tricky part about flying is all in the flapping. Flapping sucks, because it’s all about physical co-ordination and athleticism, which just happen to be two fields of study I have not earned Doctorates in, unfortunately. The only books I could find to help in the library are still on loan to Rarity’s and Applejack’s little sisters' pegasus friend. If you aren’t flapping, though, you’re gliding, and gliding is fun and easy. Unfortunately it usually means that, unless you’re a good enough flier to find and use thermals, which I am evidently not, you lose altitude. Lose enough altitude and the ground starts getting in the way, and it has a stubborn tendency not to move out of the way for anypony, not even princesses, no matter how much pleading and begging you do before impact. It’s kind of grumpy like that. The same goes for its accomplice, gravity, who art a heartless expletive. So, yeah, usually I’d be stuck with flapping. Unless... Unless I found a way to gain altitude without flapping that took advantage of, oh, say, my ability to Sparkleport™  perhaps? There’s a familiar poofing, popping, banging sound and I’m higher! I angle down steeper and glide. *Pewbang!* Hooray for conservation of momentum! I keep angling down, aiming low and- *Pewbang!* -maintaining about the same height, relatively, from the ground. Every time I get too low, all I have to do is- *Pewbang!* -Twilyport™  back up again! Brilliant! Now my wings can rest without any of that stupid ungraceful flapping nonsense and I’m travelling at what I guesstimate to be upwards of three hundred kilometers an hour, based on some modified calculations of the ones I made when Rarity was freefalling from Cloudsdale. Fortunately I’m going sideways, not down. Well, mostly. *Pewbang!* Sure, it’s exhausting me in another mana of speaking, ha!, but now I’ve got enough space in between casts to recharge, as it were. Rainbow Dash, eat your heart out. I laugh at what I must look like. A long, downward slope, then a flash, then a long downward slope and a flash, rinse, repeat! Haha! Anypony watching me would have to be nodding like a bobblehead. Okay, so this is fun. Like, really, really fun. It’s almost as fun as wordplay! Oh! Oh! Why not both? With how much fun I’m having, Time should fly with me! Ha! Ha ha ha! Ha! Ahh... okay. Now understanding why geeks and jocks tend to be one or the other. Exercise seems to make you stupid for some reason. I knew it! Also that may explain why I didn’t notice that I just ‘flew’ straight past Ponyville. Wait- What?! The next time I do the magic part of this little routine, I’ve got to flip myself. Okay, okay, and- *Pewbang!* Rainbow Dash! Hey, what are you- Oh. Oh, this is about to hurt a lot, isn’t it? Let’s see, weight of myself, Rainbow Dash’s presumed weight, both travelling at a velocity of... mhmm, mmm hmm, just as I thought. I am in for at least a ton of pain, if I did the kilonewton conversion right. Rainbow Dash’s eyes go wide and she pulls upward as I slam my wings shut and aim down. She might not be an ‘egghead’ but it looks like she reached the same conclusion. We’re both going so fast, though! Assuming we each had a reaction time of 215 milliseconds, she was travelling at least as fast as I was to catch up with me... Even just noticing each other brought us 36 meters closer! Or 35.833 recurring but, hey, who’s counting? Needless to say, in spite of our best efforts, or maybe because of them, Rainbow only just skids over the top of me, and we miss each other by what must be a hoof’s length. I can feel the air thrumming off her as she passes! The good news is it’s only air that hits me. Bad news is that it’s an awful lot to hit, particularly when you’re a pony who has trouble gliding, and the ability to correct for the sudden massive change in air pressure is beyond me. I crash into a solid, physical barrier of compressed air. I’m bowled backwards. It’s decidedly unpleasant, but I take solace in the fact that I’m not going to land like this in front of both the princesses again. Also, air is decidedly softer than the marble floors of the palace. It’s a pity I’m still probably about to fall from very, very high up. It’s not going to kill me but, with a height like this, I just know I’m going to wish it did. Here it comes. Any second now. Any... second. I- Huh. There is a distinct lack of impact happening here. Gravity- Are we finally friends? Did you accept my gift offerings at last? Have you decided to finally see the magic of- “Woah, Twilight, you okay? You scared the ponyfeathers off of me.” There’s a delicate pause, “You know, I gotcha now and everything, right, so you can uncover your eyes now. I mean, yeah, flying blind is cool and all if you do it right but, uh, you’re using your wings to do it, so... yeah...” I do as requested, like a good student. Rainbow Dash is my flight instructor, after all, she knows best, so if she says ‘stop covering your eyes and help keep us from falling for a bit’, in that special way of hers, it’s my duty as a good student to oblige. Also, well, there’s that common interest thing. I open my eyes and see Dash holding me in her forehooves - I hadn’t even felt her grab me through all the adrenaline and panicking - wearing a very confused expression. I don’t know whether she’s laughing at me or really, genuinely worried for my well being. Actually, come to think of it, I don’t think she knows either. Huh. Do I find this endearing or vexatious? Probably endearing, so long as she doesn’t drop me. “Okay, okay, you look like you can handle getting yourself to the ground now, so I’m gonna let go." Vexatious, then. "Follow the air currents, they lead right over Sugar Cube Corner at the moment.” There’s a hint of a smirk, “You remember what I taught you, right, bookworm?” She’s simultaneously being sarcastically condescending and genuinely reassuring. How does she do that?! Forget flight lessons, teach me how you just pulled that off- Oh, wait, no, flight lessons are good, Ms ‘I’m going to drop my friend in mid thought’ Dash. “I’m taking that as a yes!” She’s lucky she’s right. To Sugar Cube Corner it is, I guess. “Thanks, Dash!” I try to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. Not very hard, mind you, but I at least make the effort. “Hey, looks like Lord Sparkle owes me a cupcake.” “If you hadn’t been flying so close to me I wouldn’t have-” Indignation later, mouth, brain just caught up with what Dash said. Brain wins. I groan. Nothing else to do about it as we slowly glide back down to Ponyville below us. “Yeah, I was one of the first to hear about it. Tried looking for you, actually, no luck until I saw a bunch of weird purple flashes zigzagging all through my airspace, didn’t take a brain like yours to connect the dots.” I tactfully don’t point out I have seen her mess up join-the-dots puzzles and allow her to continue. She does so with a sigh, and a weary smile. “Bunch of bureaucrats hit up my office looking for all the latest maps of the Ponyville area, saying something about it being your new Lord’s Garbage or something.” “Lord’s Waste.” “Yeah, that. Then I think they went to Applejack’s, just to compare borders and something something,” she makes a dismissive, rolling gesture with a hoof and rolls her eyes,  “Applejack’s a villain now, dude said.” “Wait, wait- villain or villein?” Dash stares at me for a long moment. “... yes?” “Villein with an ‘e’ then. Okay, so, Applejack has been made a villein.” “What’s that mean, anyway? Like, is this a ‘magic of friendship’ type of deal or?” Rainbow’s scratchy voice trailed off, and her eyes meet mine, and I can see just how anxious this is making her, right there, “I mean, I really don’t want to lay the smack down on AJ. For one thing, she’s like a sister to me, you know?” “And I presume the other is, of course, that she smacks back harder?” “Well, I was leaving it implied, but if you’re just gonna go out and say it like that...” Rainbow grumbles. “Well, fortunately, it just means that somehow Applejack has been deemed worthy of running Sweet Apple Acres on my behalf.” I snort. “Well, she is, isn’t sh- wait, on your behalf?” I watch Dash blink and shake her head with a small amount of amusement. She’s confused by what to be confused by first. It’s honestly not a bad reaction to have, if I’m honest. I’m pretty sure I’m about to be filled with much of the same. “Technically, by which I mean legally, I own Ponyville now, soil to citizens.  That includes the entirety of Sweet Apple Acres and, I suspect, everything under as far as the Weather Team’s jurisdiction, which is probably, by which I mean certainly, why they paid you a visit.” “Huh. So-” I cut her off because I am not finished explaining just how... how... I need a good word that essentially means ‘Unbelievably moronic in a way that is detrimental and borderline evil’. “Also apparently the laws are so draconic”, ah, draconic, “that Applejack is, in a way, my property now as well. Presumably most of Ponyville’s residents are. Even you.” “Wait, so what’s a freepony?” “Where’d you hear that?” “One of the bean counters told me I was one of those now.” “Ah.” I took a moment to reflect on just how inane and civil the conversation was. It was borderlining on small talk! Did Dash not get that- “It means that you aren’t my property, you pay rent and get full civil equine rights.” “Huh. And Applejack doesn’t?” “I think around ninety percent of ponies don’t.” “I’m in the top ten!” Dash grinned, “That’s pretty cool.” “Which makes the other ninety percent serfs.” I growl. “What are serfs?” “Slaves, but with a nicer name.” “Oh.” She reflects on that. “You know what? I take it back. Totally uncool. I don’t think I want to be, you know, the best if it means everypony else has to be... less, you know?” she nods to herself, grasping for the words in her own mind, “I mean, when you said ‘your property’ I kind of got that, but I mean, I see how you treat your stuff. You’re super methodical and caring. It’s different if they don’t get a say in the matter!” I smile warmly at Rainbow, whose face is scrunched up in concentration. Maybe she wouldn’t be such a bad influence on Spike after all. “Unless they were your slaves in, like, the fun way, cause they wanted to be. I’m not gonna judge what two or more consenting adult ponies do in the privacy, and sometimes not even then, of their own homes, am I right?.” She sports a grin so lecherous I can’t help but reflexively blush quite brightly. Ah Rainbow, never change. Also, stay away from my assistant for the duration of dragon puberty, thank you. Wait, that reminds me. “So, what’s this I hear about you telling ponies I need to get laid?” I growl, eyes sharpened and cutting a nasty look, a look that has brought lesser ponies to their knees weeping forgiveness before, dragging across Rainbow Dash’s... Goofy, bright eyed face, nodding in sage agreement. Darn it, Dash, did you misinterpret The Look? I think you just totally misinterpreted The Look. I redouble my efforts, upgrading The Look’s settings from Glare to Scowl, which just bounces off her insufferably smug and charming armour when she easily quips “Yeah, you know, just a fun little roll in the hay sometime. I mean, flying's fun and all, but I could really teach you how to rock a pair of wings, you know what I’m saying?” I raise an eyebrow. Rainbow pales significantly and holds her hooves up placatingly. I don’t know how she flies like that. I’d get wobbly just looking down at this point. “Whoah, not like that. Well, I mean, yeah, like that, but I mean... oh geeze... I don’t- We’re friends right? Just friends? I don’t want to mess that up and- it’s not because you’re not hot because you totally are- I- what did I just- Oh, geeze- can I start over?” “Frankly, I’m rather enjoying seeing how far you can fit a hoof in your mouth.” Gag reflex joke noted, but I shall be the better pony here. Better looking perhaps- Hrm. Let’s see, you’ve got me, versus Dash’s athletic, slim form, her bright colours, her boundless charisma and piercing gaze, her trim flank- “Or, uh, I can not point out that you started ogling me there and we’ll call it even?” Dash chuckles sheepishly. Damn it brain! ‘I had nothing to do with that one!’  Then who? My tail twitches slightly. Oh dear. I didn’t think I would ever say this phrase out loud, let alone to her face but- I wince as I bite out the bitter words, “Rainbow Dash, I hate to say this, and I mean I really hate to say this but-” “Woah, hold that thought, I just need to grab something real quick.” -but she totally interrupted me! What could possibly be more important? She flies back almost immediately, now accompanied by a small raincloud. “Okay, ready.” “Rainbow Dash, I think you might be right.”  I shudder. *Boom!* I stare at her. She grins even wider than ever before back at me. I stare at her a little more. “Did you just drag a raincloud with us so that you could do your own dramatic thunderstrike?” I can not fit enough incredulity into this statement. It is not possible, there cannot be enough. “Yeah.” She beams at me, totally unabashed. “That’s...” I trail off lamely, thinking of the right word. Stupid. Melodramatic. Histrionic. “You’re just jealous because you didn’t think of it first.” “You think that- I mean, of all the things that-” Splutter mutter grumble mumble. “Go on, admit it, that’s two for two I’m right about.” She’s buffing a hoof to her chest just exuding smug. So much smug! “Gah!” She’s right, but I’ll never admit it! Never! “Now you’re just not doing it out of principle!” Rainbow smugs at me. I didn’t even realize that ‘smug’ could be a verb, but there you have it. “Bah!” I snap. “Bah!” I start charging my horn to teleport myself the rest of the, comparatively short, distance to Sugar Cube Corner. It’s enough time for Dash to shout out the lunch order I owe her, apparently. A dark part of me hopes she breathes in crumbs. *Bang* Right into the store. It’s remarkably empty, for some reason. Strange, Sugar Cube Corner is usually abuzz with activity, if only because of one of its inhabitants- “Hi, Twilight, my humble lord and princess Sparkle butt!” Pinkie chuckles. It’s become a nickname she’s grown rather fond of, as of late, much to my chagrin. There’s an audible snap, and I feel a brush of air hit me. I look in its direction, expecting a certain polychromatic prankster pegasus, perplexed instead as I perceive the pair of Pinkie Pie’s parents- adoptive, I mean. I notice the looks on their faces. Yep, no doubt about it. Eyes the size of saucers, mouths agape, visibly sweating, frantic gesture making, avoiding eye contact, more frantic gesture making- last time they were acting like this was around Princess Celestia. So, they’ve heard the news it seems. Everypony in town must have at this point. That probably explains why they aren’t here, for better or worse, though I must say I am impressed that the Cakes' horrified-in-unison head-turn managed to break the sound barrier, even if I’m a little concerned of the cause. “It’s me, Twilight, Mr and Mrs Cake. Just Twilight Sparkle, the librarian.” I sigh. “You can stop bowing now, or at least trying to get Pinkie Pie to be less Pinkie Pie. We both know that’s not likely to happen anyway.” They’re hesitant, to say the least, eyeing me in much the same way I watched that silver fulminate sand timer. You just know it’s about to go very, very badly for you, yes, and attempting to do anything about it would just speed up the inevitable, so all you can do is just sit there and admire and watch and hope that the whole thing doesn’t blow up as badly as you fear. Hrrm. Perhaps they are right to needlessly grovel. Better safe than sorry around your absolute ruler when said ruler is known to accidentally, absentmindedly make time pieces out of unstable primary explosives. I touch a hoof to my recently regrown eyebrow and wince. Still, apparently it was being adapted as a new fuse system for miners, which was sort of cool if you really consider it. I mean, most science is achieved with determination and happy accidents right? Vulcanized rubber springs, ha!, to mind, and- Oh, right, I should really stop getting sidetracked. I think I’ve just accidentally been lost in thought whilst staring at the ceiling, which is really a bad thing to do when you’ve just been informed that you’re the new owner, particularly around the current residents. “Are you... unhappy with the decor?” Mrs Cake asks diplomatically, “Or the building? Is the ceiling height not to your liking?” “No, no, everythings fine, I was just thinking about some explosives I made.” Blink. Blink. Mr and Mrs Cake stare at me aghast. I make a hurried, placating gesture and turn to Pinkie Pie who is- Grinning maniacally and wearing a hard hat. Of course she is. “I meant you’re looking at me like I’m some unstable compound, not ‘I want to blow up Sugar Cube Corner on a whim’!” Deep sighs of relief are punctuated by a disappointed ‘Awww!’. Mr Cake looks a little conflicted, actually, about the lack of explosions. Stallions. “Look, just because I- you have been told, right?” Three sets of nods. Thought so. “Just because I’m now Princess Doctor Lord Twilight of Ponyville, doesn’t give me the right to blow up your house. Or throw you in the dungeon. I don’t even think I have a dungeon to throw you in, besides the library basement, and that’s where all my science equipment is.” “It’s her science dungeon.” Pinkie nods sagely, as if this was one of the most profound things in the world. The Cakes, as one, glance at her, then stare at me. “I- well- okay, I do have restraints, yes, but it’s for medical analysis purposes only!” I tactfully decide not to add that, since I haven’t taken the Hippopotocratic Oath, that doesn’t mean I couldn’t use it as an impromptu dungeon- Ecchem. Moving on. “See?” Pinkie bobs, “Science dungeon. For Princesses who are also doctors. Hey, I didn’t know you were a doctor, Twilight, and I know everything about everypony in Ponyville! What’s your doctor-octor-ate in?” “They’re still working that out, for now, I think.” I mumble, shuffling my hooves, “apparently the closest they can figure is ‘a lot of things.’” “Is political science one of them?” Pinkie blinks. “No, no, political science is more of a soft subject, and I’m really more into the hard sciences.” I raise an eyebrow, “Why?” “Well, I’m just wondering why Princess Luna thought giving you Ponyville would be a good idea if politics and stuff was something you didn’t know about. I mean, that would just be silly, right?” Pinkie Pie giggles, “Imagine putting a pony in charge who only had book smarts and expecting them to run a town in a way that kept everypony happy! Could you imagine?” I... no, I couldn’t. Mr and Mrs Cake are making more frantic, silent gestures and even resorting to hissing now, but Pinkie’s lost on Pinkie Planet, Population: Pie. “It could be a disaster! Riots! Famine! Utter chaos! But thank Luna we got Twilight Sparkle, who I’m sure knows something about all that junk, instead, huh, Mr and Mrs. Cake?” They all stare at me, Pinkie Pie with a happy, expectant look, and the Cake’s are acting like I’ve suddenly sprouted a second head (again). “Rainbow Dash wants an apple turnover with cream, and I gotta go, bye!” “Wait, don’t you want anything for yourself, Twi-” There’s a clatter of bits hitting the counter and a lovely bit of onomatopoeia to signal my departure. *Pew* *Bang* My stomach growls. Thankfully I picked my next destination well. Sweet Apple Acres. I rub my horn and wince a bit. I might have been a bit too hasty with that last jump. I feel like a bunch of angry, tiny ponies are bucking bundles of nerves all through my horn. Shoo. Shoo, angry, tiny ponies, you are not wanted here. Not now, not ever. I’ve still got to find Applejack, and it’s a big orchard! Well, that leaves - dramatic flutter - flying! Or - dramatic hoof wiggle - walking! Left hoof, right hoof! Left hoof, right hoof! Oh, who am I kidding here? Certainly not myself. Walking is not magic. Flying is not magic, though that may just be because I suck at it. Magic is magic. I guess I see why Spike likes riding on my back so much, now. It’s not that walking’s so bad, per se, as it suddenly becomes a lot less tolerable when you realize you have other means at your disposal. The brisk walking devolves into trudging. It leaves me alone with my thoughts. They make for terrible company, my thoughts. All they remind me is just how right Pinkie Pie unintentionally was. There’s a reason Mayor Mare was mayor and I wasn’t- well, okay, I am a princess, but come on, Luna, there’s throwing a foal in the deep end to teach them how to swim and then there’s breaking the dam to encourage them to take up engineering. If I fail I’m not the pony that really suffers as a result. It’s all of Ponyville. It’s my friends that will suffer on my behalf and nopony asked them if they agreed to this. No matter how you slice it, that’s just wrong. “Oh, howdy, boss! What’s gotcha so grumpy to see your old friend AJ? What, you too good for your used-to-be friends?” I smile and turn to the voice. I can’t help it, that familiarity, that playful teasing, it just makes me all warm and fuzzy inside, and chases away my former companion. The nasty thoughts cannot hold a candle to the brightness that is Applejack’s understanding smile. Her sweaty, dripping, dirty smile. “I didn’t think it was apple bucking season this time of year?” “Shucks, no. Ah’ve been puttin’ down stakes to see if we can’t get a little vineyard up and going. Perfect climate for it, Rarity says.” She smirks, “Give her something new to wine about.” “Applejack, that’s not very- oh.” I note her cheeky smirk, “Was that wordplay?” Sly nod means yes? Sly nod means yes. “I approve, then.” “I hear tell that makes it a royal decree, your highness.” AJ smirks and winks at me. I can’t help but groan. “C’mon, Applejack, that’s never bothered you before.” “Well, you didn’t outright own my sorry plot either. Plot of land, Ah mean, get'cher mind out of the gutter, it ain’t becomin’ of royalty.” “Eeyup.” I whip around and, sure enough, there’s Big Macintosh leanin’ - er, leaning, I mean - against a tree with a stalk of wheat in his unreadable expression. “Were you sneaking up on me?” I ask. “Nope.” “Well... okay then.” I sigh, shoulders slumping, “Sorry.” “Eeyup.” “Don’t mind mah brother, ah’m sure he don’t mean nothin’ by it. Macintosh just has a way of meltin’ into the background if’n he wants to. Darn spooky how quiet he can be.” Particularly from a pony so, well, big. “But that ain’t neither here nor there, is it, your highness? I heard you had the decency to let me run my own farm. That’s mighty kind of ya.” “It’s not my fault, I swear! Luna-” “Shoot, I know that, seems like the sort of mess you’d get into. Shame we can’t blast the elements at bureaucratic paper-pushers, though.” Her eyes light up, momentarily, “Can’t we?” “Sorry, but no.” Owch. Watching the joyful hope die in my most dependable friend’s eyes is like telling a pony that Santa Claws doesn’t exist. “They’d give us a mountain of paperwork to fill out in their death-throes or something.” “Darn it.” Applejack swore, “I must admit, it got pretty temptin’ to just buck them right off the orchard if it hadn’t been for all those ‘royal proclamations’ they were hoofin’ off to us left and right. Oh, but Granny Smith read the fine print whilst we were all yammerin’, now, didn’t she Big Mac?” “Eeyup.” Big Macintosh grinned, like some kind of terrible cross between a fox and a shark. “Turns out whilst we’re yours, beggin’ your pardon and all that, Twi, we don’t have to pay taxes or rates or none of that government nonsense, so long as you don’t ask for it specific-like. We’ve just got to give you a tithe and the rest is square.” “But-” “And now, before you go thinking I’m abusin’ your power or your friendship or somethin’, it ain’t like that. I just mean that, so long as we provide Ponyville with enough food, we can still sell off the excess for a mighty tax-free profit!” “But-!” “Turns out we’ll be makin’ more this year than last, if Granny and Macintosh did the maths right. Reckon they did, knowin’ them.” “But you’re slaves, now!” I finally blurt out, “Doesn’t that bother you at all?” Applejack just raises and eyebrow and looks at me all serious-like. Wait, I mean, seriously. Darn it, now she’s got me doing it! Bad country mannerisms and colloquialisms, stay out of my egghead! Echem: With perspicacity and alacrity I keep my sanity satisfactory. Ah. “Thought I was a villein.” “That’s just a slave with property rights!” “Okay, let me put it this way for you Twi, and Big Mac,” she nods at her brother with a look that just screams ‘humour me’, his look just politely replies ‘okay, let’s see where you’re going with this’, so she continues, “you stop me if’n you disagree. Now, way I see it is this; who do I answer to?” “Well, me, but-” “Well, that’s just it, isn’t it Twilight? Not some big, faceless bureaucracy, not some crazy pony with a whip, and certainly not Prince Blueblood. You.” “Eeyup.” “Frankly I don’t see the downsides. , "I now have to pay ‘tribute’ to you, sure,” she looks like a poker player revealing that they haven’t been bluffing, and oh look, another ace, “but you have to be my accountant. Sounds fair." Well, she summed that up nicely. “Eeyup.” “Are you honestly going to say that you, Twilight Sparkle, are goin’ to go and abuse a position of trust and authority on a whim?” She spits at her hooves and knocks her Stetson back so that I may bask in the whole of her smiling, radiant face. “Somehow I doubt that.” “I might...” I protest feebly. That results in the strangest noise I’ve ever heard. It’s indescribable, but I’ll do my best and say it’s like some strange hybrid between a wood chipper and a particularly large frog. Apparently Big Macintosh isn’t used to laughing. “Ah’m gonna have to agree with Mac on this one, sugarcube.” AJ winks - winks! - at me. “What if I don’t do it on purpose!” “Then, knowin’ you, dahlin’, you’ll be the first one on the scene tryin’ to fix it. Beaver dam busts and you know what ornery little critter is always there before any other varmint, no matter how many little critters there are downstream.” “But... Even if a beaver fixes the dam he can’t undo the damage he caused...” “Nope. You gotta remember that too Twilight, though, knowin’ you, that’s all you’re going to remember. Point is we trust you, and even if you make mistakes, which you won’t,” she taps a hoof to my chest, but I’m too transfixed by her determined glare to even look down, “we all know you’re just gonna pick right back up. Cause if you don’t then maybe a real slave driver might come along, and that ain’t good for nopony.” Wow. My friends have an awful lot of trust and respect for me. That’s deeply touching. I’m totally going to find some way to destroy that aren’t I? Oh, dear, let me count the ways- “Ayenope.” A deep, twanging voice resonates through my skull, shaking off the bad thoughts. I turn to Big Mac. He opens his mouth, eyes fixing mine with a steely gaze, he puffs out his chest and... Just shrugs amicably, offering me a consoling smile. As if to say “I know what you were thinking, and I’m not having any of it.” I guess that is his way of saying it. He stares at me a little longer in appraisal, then gives me a little approving nod. Applejack pulls me into a tight, can’t-breathe-must-breathe-gasp, hug. “Now you just run along now. I reckon you got more ponies to talk about who don’t have their heads on as rightly as Granny did, sugarcube. Reckon I would have been right livid if it hadn’t been for her eagle eyes.” “Reckon?” Big Mac grins unabashedly, rolling his eyes. “Quiet, you.” “Well, you’re right anyway. Both of you. Thank you so much for being so understanding about all this, I really don’t know what I’d do if I were in your position.” “I do. Panic and read a bunch of law books for a few days.” “I...” Indignant response primed and ready. It’s a shame she’s probably right. Okay, it’s a shame she is exactly right. “... yes.” “So, go! Go’on now, shoo! I’ll tell Applebloom her new supreme overlord Twi showed up and graced us with her high-and-mighty presence.” She chuckles, complemented by Big Mac’s chuckle-laugh which sounds pleasantly like heavy gravel rolling down a gutter, “And don’t let Rarity inflate your head none. Even if it says you own our sorry plots - of land, get your mind outta the gutter again, Princess, how many times am I gonna have to remind you - you’re still one of us, ya’hear?” Well, if Pinkie Pie gave me the foreboding cold and shiveries, which she totally did, Sweet Apple Acres has given me the warmest of warm and fuzzies. Leave it to Applejack to bring me back down to earth again. With one last quick hug for the siblings, I turn to make my leave. My horn still frazzles a bit, so it looks like I’m hoofing it earth pony style too. It doesn’t seem as grueling as it did before... now it just feels appropriate. Right. Rarity... Applejack’s right, she’s going to have the most... unique view of the situation of all my friends. I should visit her last. That just leaves Fluttershy, and she’s pretty close to the orchard anyway. Well, that’s so convenient it’s almost contrived. Still... ... I’m not going to complain about anything that cuts down on how far I have to walk today. I’m still way too sore after falling so much. I know what I just thought at myself about walking feeling right, but that was before I remembered how badly I hurt. After everything else, it’s probably been the least important thing on my mind. Now... now Applejack and Big Macintosh have reminded me that my friends will be there for me, just like I’ll be there for them, and panicking is just going to hurt a lot innocent ponies, because I am capable, gosh darn it! Unfortunately the net result is now that I’m not on a constant wave of adrenaline I’m very, very sore. That puts me in a terrible mood to deal with a friend I’ve completely forgotten about. I’m reminded of this very important friend, actually, as soon as Fluttershy’s cottage is in sight. A friend that, typically, I would have blamed for this in the first place, had I not been there. A friend that I am very reluctant to call a friend. A friend who is currently eye-to-eye with me, despite being immensely taller than me. He has somehow achieved this by being upside-down and moonwalking on, as far as I can tell, thin air. “Hello, Discord.”