• Published 30th Dec 2012
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Through the Well of Pirene - Ether Echoes



[Now EQD Featured!] A young girl must travel to Equestria to rescue her kid sister from the clutches of a terrible magician.

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Chapter 11: Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

Chapter 11: Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

"Think where Man’s glory most begins and ends, and say my glory was I had such friends." Yeats.

Daphne

“Are you sure we can’t offer you any more cakes, Princess?” the matron of the house, a stout, roan mare, asked. She puttered after Twilight Sparkle solicitously as the two of us retreated for the door. Three tiny green foals followed us, carousing about Twilight’s legs and nearly tripping her when one of them got in the way.

Twilight waved a hoof and both wings, as if trying to buffet the farmer away. “No, no! I’m quite full, I assure you, and Spike will just love—”

“Goodness! I forgot all about your royal assistant!” The mare spun about and pointed a hoof at the kitchen. “Tell your father to bake three dozen more cakes at once!”

Run,” Twilight hissed, and threw the door open with a flash of magic. I bolted after her.

“I won’t have a member of Equestria’s royalty starving in my—hey, where did they go?”

Cream cakes bounced out of Twilight’s saddlebags as we galloped off of the farm and into the hills surrounding it. Ponyville came into view just as we crested a rise, as well as the other small cottages and steadings between here and the Everfree Forest. Far above, the sky was being cleared of clouds—if I just squinted, I could make out the tiny, colorful forms of pegasi. The thought that they could actually influence the weather was incredible.

It probably wasn’t entirely kosher to be envious, but seeing ponies fly so adroitly did make me a little green.

“Does that happen a lot?” I asked as we slowed to a canter.

Twilight groaned. “More than I’d like—which would be never.” She glanced back at the rapidly retreating farmhouse, as if expecting to see the matron chasing after us. I pictured the mother in the back of a dog sled, her beleaguered, orange husband and three children as the propulsion, and grinned. “It’s not really that bad in Ponyville proper, but I never really got to know a lot of these farmers before I became a Princess.”

I tilted my head. “So, what, like, you were elected princess? There are a few examples of royalty being elected on Earth like that.”

“Uh, not exactly.” She shook her head. “More like… selected? Appointed? No, exploded. Definitely exploded.”

I blinked.

“Long story.” She giggled, before giving me a thoughtful look. “Do you really call it Earth, where you come from?”

“Yeah. I mean, we never had much of a reason to call it anything else.” I glanced up at the sky. “I guess other words might be ‘Tellus’ or ‘Gaia,’ but those mean the same thing, really. What do you call your world?”

“Earth.”

“Oh, well.” I grinned at her. “I can see how that would be confusing.”

Twilight laughed again and jerked her head back at the farmhouse. “We didn’t find anything there, but I’m sure somepony around here remembers the Stone family. I mean, it’s only been ten years, how hard can it be?”

“Hopefully not too much harder,” I said quietly. The thought of Amelia and what might be happening to her crept into my mind as I glanced at the nearby woods. Such fancies could only be worse than the reality, however, so I shied away with a grimace. Still, my sister had to be terrified out of her wits, I thought to myself, lonely and frightened. Not to mention worried sick about me. The last she would have seen of me was when those brutes shot me in the chest.

After nearly a week, she’d probably given up all hope.

We crossed a bridge, under which a family of otters splashed and played in a calm stream. The cottage before us was positively littered with birdhouses, while nearly a dozen rabbits, heedless of our passing hoofsteps, grazed enthusiastically on grass and clover. Some of the varieties of bird were setting my head to spinning, and I wondered again at the strange interrelationships between our two worlds. There were more than a few New England birds, but the vast majority seemed to come from every region at once. I boggled at a keel-billed toucan, which stared right back at me, until I bumped against something big, heavy, furry, and incredibly muscular.

“Oh, excuse me,” I said, backing up to look at the person I had knocked into, only to come face-to-face with a bear.

I screamed at the top of my lungs and leapt from the cottage hill, landing in the stream with a splash.

Twilight Sparkle teleported to the opposite side of the stream with a flash of purple light. She peered down at me as I flailed in the shallow water. “You okay?”

I leapt out and dove behind a tree, staring back up at the bear, which had returned to napping in front of the cottage’s door. “Bear!

Silence held for a few beats as Twilight looked between the bear and me. She arched a brow. “Yeah. That’s a bear alright.”

“Hello?” a soft voice called from one of the upper windows. “Is somepony shouting for me?” Hooves pushed open a pair of shutters to reveal a creamy, pink-maned pony. “Oh. Hello Twilight,” she called, “I didn’t know you were visiting today.”

“Just stopping by, Fluttershy,” Twilight Sparkle replied. “I was hoping to ask you a few questions, actually.”

The other mare—Fluttershy—smiled, gesturing to Twilight with a hoof. “Of course; come in.”

She nodded. “Sure. Could you ask your bear friend to scoot a little? He’s blocking the door.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry. I gave him some medicine earlier, and I think he’s still sleeping it off.” She stepped out of the window, spreading her wings to glide gently to the earth. I watched in amazement as she set her hooves to the bear’s shoulders and gave him a shake, utterly fearless. “Now, Mister Bear, I know you’re very sleepy right now, but I need my front door. You wouldn’t want me to have to make a new one, would you?”

The bear yawned, exposing all of his many, powerful teeth. Her only reaction was to tap the ground a few times. “Now don’t be like that. I have guests—you know how important it is to show proper hospitality, don’t you?”

The bear chuffed and reluctantly clambered to all fours.

“There’s a dear.” She kissed the bear on his cheek. “Go on. There’s a nice, soft patch of moss over by the log. I’ll bring you some berries later.”

My skin crawled as the bear ambled down the pathway, and I froze as he passed within mere meters of Twilight and I. “She… she wasn’t actually talking to that bear, was she? I mean, he wasn’t talking back, right?”

“Hmm?” Twilight glanced back at me. “Well, of course he was, Daphne. It would be pretty impolite if he just ignored Fluttershy completely. I don’t speak bear, but Fluttershy does.” She started towards the door. “Coming?”

“R-right,” I said, joining her after a moment. My gaze remained fixed on the bear as he settled down beside the stream. A bear that was demonstrably sapient, at least to the limited exposure I had. I started looking at the other animals clustered about the cottage with new eyes. They looked much like the creatures familiar to me from home, but now, as I saw myself reflected in them, it seemed to me that they were considering me just as curiously as I was considering them. Perhaps that was merely imagination, but, as I watched their heads turn to follow us, I somehow doubted it.

Fluttershy opened the door and stepped inside; her tail slid along the floor, and I wondered if ponies ever had trouble keeping clean. Leit Motif and I had washed our hooves, but while I always seemed to run around with them caked in dirt, everypony else looked nearly spotless. Perhaps it was some consequence of their ability to pick things up. “I hope you like chamomile, Twilight. I’m all out of the mint—I’m really sorry, I just haven’t had time to go into town, what with the medicine and the… the ogre earlier.”

“No, that’s all right,” Twilight said, waving her hoof. “No need to start anything. Daphne and I just had some questions before we had to move on.”

“Daphne…?” She glanced at me. “Oh, A guest! And—goodness, you’re all soaked!” She threw a cabinet open, and a fluffy towel stitched with seals flopped on to my back. “How did this happen?”

“Bear,” Twilight said sardonically, covering a smirk.

I gave her a sour glance. “Har.” Toweling off, I smiled at Fluttershy. “Thank you. It was nothing, really, I just kind of fell into your stream here.”

“Oh. Well.” Fluttershy blinked. “I can’t really recommend that. It’s not really the right depth for diving.” She went over to a table stacked with a couple newspapers where a family of docile mice carefully shredded them and folded them with straw to make nest material. “So, what can I help you with?”

“Well, we’re trying to figure something out,” Twilight said as she joined her. “It might have been before your time here in Ponyville, but did you know a Stone family that farmed in this area?”

“Stone?” Fluttershy tilted her head. “Well, there’s the Stiles, and then Rock Slide and Pleasant Valley live over on Blackberry Lane.”

“I don’t think they’ve been here for a few years, actually,” Twilight amended.

I nodded. “Yeah, Lyra said the area had grown wild.” I looked out the window. A chicken coop and fence stood not far from the border of the woods. They seemed deceptively benign from Fluttershy’s cottage—perhaps not all of the Everfree was monster-infested, if all of these relatively normal animals congregated so freely.

“Oh, dear.” Fluttershy frowned. “I’m sorry, I don’t know anypony who tended old plots. All of the plots around here have been tilled since before I came to stay in Ponyville.” She fiddled nervously with a bucket of brine left on the edge of the table. “They’ve changed hooves a few times, though. Have you tried asking Applejack? If anypony knows who the old families are, she would.”

“No, but I suppose I was going that way anyway. Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo checked a book out that we need to find.” Twilight furrowed her brow as she glanced out the window. “Have they checked in with you? Zecora hasn’t visited recently, so I haven’t asked, but…”

Fluttershy shook her head. “Not since they asked for an ice pick and a big bag of salt, no.” She glanced outside with a nervous twist of her mouth. “Is that ogre still out there? Whatever happened with that?”

“Ah. That’s my cue.” I stepped forward toward the table. “There was no ogre. That was actually a friend of mine, Naomi. I’m Daphne, by the way. Sorry for not introducing myself.”

“Nice to meet you,” Fluttershy said, offering me a smile. “Are you from out of town, then?”

“Way, way out of town.”

“Daphne and her friends are here looking for her sister,” Twilight said. “It’s a bit distressing, actually. She was kidnapped by some creatures called ‘goblins.’ Do you know anything about them?”

Fluttershy’s eyes widened. “Kidnapped? Oh, that’s terrible.” She gave me a hug at once. I might have protested, but something in the look she had—the downward curl of her lips, the slight crease to her eyes, the sheer sincerity about her—popped a seam somewhere inside me, and I had to take a moment to keep my emotions down. For some reason, her words and her demeanor had reminded me very strongly of the fact that I might very well never see my little sister again, or, worse, that she’d been changed more completely than I had been.

“I’m really very sorry. I’ve never even heard of goblins before. They sound awful.” She set her hooves on my shoulders as she pulled away. “Is there anything I can get you? I wish I could do something more. Maybe I can ask my animal friends to help look for her?”

“I… no.” I shook my head. “I mean—if you think it might help, yes, but, I don’t need anything right now. I just need to find my sister and get her home safe again.”

“Maybe I can fix you some tea, I—” Fluttershy spun around, her rump hitting the bucket on the table. It sailed up and turned in midair. I barely had time to sigh before cold brine and potatoes dumped all over me.

* * *

“Would you please stop giggling?” I asked Twilight sullenly as we walked away. I glared at her, then up at my mane. It was dry again, but the strands stuck together with whatever salt we hadn’t been able to remove in Fluttershy’s sink.

“I’m sorry,” Twilight said in a tone that didn’t sound very apologetic at all. She tried to hide another grin with little success. “Does this happen to you often?”

“Terrifically bad luck?” I tilted my head. “Yes.” I growled, stomping my hooves into the ground in a childish display of frustration as we walked. After a while, I cooled off and asked, “Fluttershy’s going to be okay, right? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone apologize so much before.”

“She’s all right. Just a little, you know, delicate.” Twilight chuckled. “You know, it kind of reminds me of when I first came to Ponyville. Rainbow Dash was one of the first of my friends that I met, and the very first thing she did was crash into me and plow me into a puddle of mud. Getting clean again was almost an adventure in itself.”

“Considering that the last time I was in water I almost drowned, I don’t really see the humor,” I said bitterly. At Twilight’s stricken look, I winced. “Sorry. You didn’t know about that.” I paused. “Even if you did, that was really uncalled for.”

Twilight waved it off with a wing. “If I started judging people for getting stressed out, the first pony would be standing in the mirror.”

I flushed, watching the ground as we walked. “I really can’t thank you enough for this, though, Twilight. I mean, I know you probably want to be back in your house instead of out on a late autumn afternoon tracking down rumors.”

“Lyra and Leit can carry on without me just fine,” she said as we trotted on. After a pause, she added, “Besides, I do like helping ponies—err, people. Even if nothing was on the line, I’d still like to figure this out. The whole question of parallel worlds and strange creatures traveling them… I want to see it play out for myself.”

“Well,” I gave her a small smile, “thank you, anyway.”

The hills gave way to open fields and copses of trees, dotting the land around us. Young foals played in little groups, running freely through the grass in a way a lot of kids back home would have envied; their sturdy young legs seemed possessed of boundless energy. At that moment, I wished strongly that Leit could have been there to look with me. A younger Daphne certainly would have loved to run with them.

Apple trees popped up along the roadside. Our feet carried us on to my original glimpse of pony civilization: the apple farm. With the sun hanging near the horizon, it was getting late in the day, but someone was still working. I stared as an entire tree shook so violently the apples seemed to detach themselves obligingly. The most enormous pony stallion I had ever seen trotted towards the barn with an even dozen carts stacked high with fruit behind him. They might as well have been filled with feathers for all the trouble they gave him.

“Hello, Big McIntosh!” Twilight called. “Is Applejack in?”

The crimson stallion slowed, lifting a hoof to lazily wave. His shaggy fetlocks exposed orange-walled hooves. “Eeyup,” he answered with an obvious twang. “Just set yourselves up inside, I’ll send her along.”

“Wow,” I muttered, following Twilight toward the barn-shaped farmhouse. “I think he could almost look Hector in the eye.” If I had thought Ponyville was rustic, it was nothing on the exterior of this house. I could have taken a dive into a genre picture and wouldn’t have known the difference. “And how many apples was he carrying? That looked to be at least a ton.”

“About that many. Maybe twice that. It is the last harvest of the year, after all, so he and Applejack need to work extra hard.” Twilight knocked on the doorframe, peeking in. “Granny Smith?” she called quietly.

A snore answered her. An ancient mare dozed in a large, comfy chair by the fireplace. Twilight put a hoof to her lips and tiptoed into the kitchen. She closed the door behind us after I joined her, and then lowered her horn towards it. Purple light swirled for a moment. “There we go,” she said in a more normal tone.

I quietly watched the light leave her horn. Twilight, walking over to the side door, failing to notice my interest, and opened it to greet a familiar orange mare, whose powerfully built frame glistened. “Hey, hon. Hope you don’t mind if I refrain from greetin’ you proper. I’m drenched with sweat. We’ve got a fine crop comin’ in, if I don’t say so myself.”

Unlike so many others today, she saw me at once and grinned. “Shucks, if it ain’t the hungry traveler. Why didn’t you say you were a friend of Twi’s?”

“Oh, we’re just acquaintainces. She’s a friend of my friend Leit Motif—”

“Sort of,” Twilight corrected.

“—and she’s helping me out.” I smiled at Applejack brightly. “Thank you for that pie, by the way. It was fantastic. Best I’ve ever had.”

“Darned straight it is.” Applejack went to her fridge and poured herself a large glass of milk. “Can I help you two to anything?”

“No, thank you,” Twilight said, stepping forward. “Actually, I’d hoped to ask you a few questions. Do you know anything about a Stone family that farmed near Fluttershy’s cottage back, oh, ten years ago?”

“Stone? I knew a Big Stone and his wife, Quicklime,” Applejack said thoughtfully as she settled against her counter. “They had a little filly I played with sometimes, Marble Stone.” A dark frown crossed her expression. “I think something happened to her, now that I think about it. There was an… an accident? They moved away after that.”

We brightened and cupped our ears forward. I had to resist the urge to tackle the other mare into the ground. “Have you ever heard of goblins?” I asked. “Did Marble Stone ever mention anything about strange visitors from the Everfree?”

“Goblins?” Applejack deepened her scowl, swirling the dregs of her drink around. “Can’t say as I… well.” She peered at the door leading back into the living room. “Granny Smith says that when she was young, this strange fella would come to town on two legs, could barely speak a word of Equestrian, but he made some mighty fine tools. We had an axe that finally broke after some sixty-odd years when I was young. We gave the blade away to some family in Appleloosa a bit ago—it was still good.”

“I can hardly believe it,” Twilight said. “We’ve been in contact the entire time and it’s been right under our noses…”

My expression darkened. “Yeah, but… you don’t know what happened to Marble Stone, exactly?”

“No.” Applejack shook her head. “Shucks. Now that you’ve reminded me, I remember being terrible upset. My da, bless his heart, said she’d gone on. I cried for a week, must have been.” She stared out the window, her grimace seeming etched on her face. “You ever have the feeling you’ve forgotten about somepony you cared deeply about?”

I scuffed the floor with a hoof, my reply a whisper. “Yeah.”

“What’s this all about, then?” Applejack asked as she turned to wash her glass in the sink. “I don’t think you came all this way just to ask about one of my fillyhood friends.”

Twilight shook her head. “Yes and no. Actually… well, it’s a bit of a long story now, but we have good reason to believe that your friend Marble Stone was foalnapped. The same thing happened to Daphne here—her little sister was taken a little under a week ago by what we believe to be the same creatures.”

Applejack turned her head to stare at us, leaving the water running. The sink slowly filled, and her trailing blond mane soaked in it, but she paid it no heed.

“They are monsters called goblins,” I explained quietly. “They look like ponies sometimes, or bipeds, and maybe other things. They took my baby sister and I don’t know what they’re going to do with her. I need to get her back.”

“Well.” Applejack settled her hooves on the floor. She cracked her neck. “Point me to ’em. I’ll break ’em in half if I have to.”

“That’s the problem,” Twilight griped. “We can’t seem to find out where they are. We found Marble Stone’s journal, but it didn’t give any hints. They’re somewhere in the Everfree Forest, but we have no idea where.”

“Harvest is just about over,” Applejack said in a growl. “Big Mac can finish up. I’ll tear the place apart—that’s sick, what they’ve done, taking defenseless foals.”

Twilight raised a hoof placatingly. “Whoa there, cowgirl.” She gave Applejack a gentle nudge. “The minute we find something, we’ll let you know, all right? We won’t get anywhere just leaping off without a plan.”

Applejack snorted, but allowed the tension to drain out of her. I watched as the corded muscles under her skin relaxed—after seeing what her brother could do, and what my own sissy legs had been able to bear, I didn’t want to imagine what she could do to a goblin given the chance. She tossed her head and her mane flopped wetly on her side. “Well, you be sure of that. If there’s anything I can do to help…”

“You’ll be the first to know,” Twilight said, nodding. “Why don’t you come by the library in a couple days? I’m expecting some more books from Canterlot soon—we should be able to get something from them.”

“Sure.” Applejack nodded. “I need to unload our stock before winter anyway, so I’ll be in town.”

“Thanks again,” I said, and paced closer. I stared at the ground and scuffed my hoof. “Uhm… I’m really sorry about your friend, Marble. I… I know what that’s like, losing someone close to you.”

Applejack smiled awkwardly and chuffed me with a hoof. “Thanks. You take care—shucks, if I’d known you were in such trouble I’d have taken care of you myself. Don’t be so shy in askin’ for help when you need it. Daphne, right?”

I nodded.

“I’ll bring one of my apple pies over tomorrow mornin’.” She glanced at Twilight. “You two got time to stick around, actually? I could have you over for dinner.”

Twilight ruffled her feathers thoughtfully, but shook her head. “We should get back. Daphne has friends waiting for her, and they might have dug up something new by now.” Her head perked. “Oh! I almost forgot—did Apple Bloom or the other girls leave a library book here?”

Applejack shook her head. “I didn’t see any new books when I dusted her room up this mornin’. They stayed the night at Rarity’s before takin’ off, though.” She frowned. “And they took two of my good shovels, come to think of it.”

“Those girls. They’re always up to something, aren’t they?” Twilight laughed. “Well, see you tomorrow, AJ.”

“You, too, Twi,” Applejack said, seeing us out and waving as we retreated down the way.

Something tangled about my feet, and I yelped, tumbling. Twilight watched me fall, then helped me up. I felt around at my heels, and a garden hose revealed itself from the lengthening shadows cast by the setting sun.

Twilight giggled as she pulled the hose away with a swirl of magic. “I’m starting to think you’re less unlucky than you are a terrific klutz.”

“Oh, hush. I’ve had these hooves for all of like five days.” I turned a baleful glare on the hose and felt heat rising in me. It seemed to build somewhere in my skull and settle there with a throbbing pain behind my horn. I winced, covering my face.

Twilight’s giggles faded. “Are you all right?”she asked.

I shook my head. “Yeah, just a headache.” Resolutely, I started back towards Ponyville.

We met the road I’d originally taken into town, and crossed the very same bridge. This time, Twilight led the way through the streets, keeping near the stream. Ponies gathered on park benches to enjoy the cool evening air, watching fireflies rise up along the river.

It put me in mind of one of the first dates Marcus and I had, actually. My steps slowed as I took in the fresh autumn air. It would be getting a little late in the year for fireflies back home, but when we had been going out in September they had positively teemed. A burgundy pegasus stallion and a pretty unicorn with a long blond mane nuzzled one another by the river bank, and I tried not to stare.

Just a few tweaks here and there. I shortened the mare’s mane to shoulder length in my imagination, lightened her coat, then adjusted the stallion’s hairstyle and lengthened it a bit—there, Pony Marcus and Daphne. They were enjoying a nice evening together before everything went to hell.

Yeah, okay, that had gotten creepy fast. I dismissed the image and hurried to catch up with Twilight.

We arrived at a curious building. If architecture could ever be described as “frilly,” this might be it. Ponies did love their odd design choices, it seemed. Warm golden light poured out into the dusk, and within I could see racks of clothes and pony mannequins.

“A clothing store?” I peered at it more closely. It reminded me of some of the designer shops I had frequented with my more shallow friends. “No, more like a boutique.” I could almost imagine Father starting up in fright, clutching at the credit cards, unaware of why his heart had started to beat rapidly.

Chalk another insensitive thought up. Father had probably been at his wit’s end regarding his daughters’ fates, and there I was making mental cracks about money.

“Yes!” Twilight nodded. “This is my friend Rarity’s place of business. And home. Home-business.”

“Don’t you also live in your place of business?”

“Well, yes, but… I don’t… work…” Twilight gave me a wry look and pushed the door open. “Anyway, come on. Her little sister is Sweetie Belle, one of the girls I mentioned. It’s a long shot, but they might have left the Goblins book here.”

Stepping in, we found ourselves overwhelmed in purple, highlighted in plum and orchid. The floor swirled with ivory and silver, and the metalwork was all polished brass. “Wow, that’s… something. This is something.” I did take an opportunity to marvel at some of the fabrics. At best, I’m an amateur at fashion, but even I could see the care taken. “I’ve never seen colors quite this vibrant before. That dark fuschia would go great with one of my dresses back home—”

That,” an imperious woman’s voice interrupted, “is fandango. Very few ponies indeed have seen a color quite like this before.” Delicate hooves clipped their way around the fabric rack. “Of course, not everypony has my esteemed eye for color, but that is why it is so fortunate that you’ve stepped in, and—oh, hello, Twilight!”

Where I had observed that Twilight had an air of perfection because of her attention to detail and precision, this mare was perfect simply because perfect is what she was. An impeccably groomed coat of flawless alabaster contrasted with a delicately curled amethyst mane. The three gems on her sides could have been actual jewels for all I could tell.

“Hey, Rarity. How’s business?” Twilight said, waving a hoof.

Dreadful.” The other unicorn shivered. “My fall fashion line has plummeted in popularity. The prices are falling like the leaves off the trees, and my wares gather dust on the ground with them.”

Twilight stared at her for a few moments. “Rarity. Autumn’s done. Winter is literally right around the corner.”

“I know. Isn’t it simply tragic?” Rarity sighed heavily. “I become so mournful at the turning of the seasons. I must discard with tremulous heart my labors to the bargain bin, where they will languish in undeserved ignominy.”

Twilight rubbed the side of her face. “I seem to remember you being ridiculously excited to start new lines after Summer Wrap-Up, though. And after Spring Cleaning. And Winter Wrap-up.”

“Well, of course, dear. Once I’ve cleared away the detritus of old, the slate is clean. An entire new world of fashion awaits, ready for my artist’s touch.”

“That…” Twilight stood flummoxed. “You just completely contradicted…”

Rarity patted her friend’s side. “It’s quite all right, Twilight. Not everypony can understand the intricate life of a fashionista.”

Either Rarity had just teased Twilight Sparkle into insensibility, or she was utterly mad. Possibly both.

“Now, Twilight, who is your—oh my stars!” Rarity gaped at me in horror. “Whatever happened to you? You poor dear, you look like you’ve been tumbling about in the Everfree Forest!”

“Err…” I prevaricated, “maybe.”

“Your hooves, your coat, your hair!” She gave Twilight a glare. “You haven’t been telling this poor mare to condition her hair with salt, have you? I cannot imagine what horrifying beauty tips you might dredge up from your musty books.”

Twilight winced. “That was an accident—”

“It’s a crime!” Rarity put her head to my side and shoved. “Come along. We are going to repair this at once.”

“Uh.” I looked to Twilight Sparkle as I slid across the floor. “Help?”

“Who, me? You’re on your own.” She watched my progress pitilessly. “You know, that is kind of funny when you’re not the one being subjected to it.”

* * *

“Did Naomi put you up to this?” I asked bemusedly. “This seems like the sort of thing she would enjoy putting me through. Then again, I don’t see her peeking in any of the windows.”

Below me, Rarity scraped a file along my hooves with her magic while Twilight watched. “Naomi?” Rarity asked. “I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. Is she foreign?”

“You might say that.” I squirmed a little. It wasn’t too unlike a manicure, but it was different enough that I really didn’t know how to sit. Having four extremely large nails at the end of every limb was more than a curious sensation—it was downright eerie.

“They’re people from another world, Rarity,” Twilight said. “It’s really quite fascinating. They’re upright bipeds, like minotaurs, but they’re smaller and have a very different society.”

Rarity glanced at me with a curious tilt of her head. “Another world? How curious. Do they have ponies there as well?”

“Not really,” I said. “It’s a bit of a long story.”

“Well, I’m sure I’ll be happy to hear all about it.” Rarity lifted the file and turned my hoof this way and that. She polished it with a cloth and wheeled a stand mirror over. “There! Now, have a look.”

Reluctant to face myself, I got to my feet slowly. When I turned and confronted the mirror, however, I found myself staring openly.

The last time I’d looked into the mirror like this, it had been to behold a bedraggled creature in Naomi’s bedroom. Rarity’s ministrations had pulled the snarls from my mane and tail, brushed out the burrs and twigs in my coat, scrubbed away the dark stains of mud and worse, and even covered up most of the bruises. Once chipped and damaged hooves gleamed. My hair, unmanageable beast that it was, puffed out a bit, but the brushing had brought some of its natural golden shine back.

Like it or not, I was a pretty little unicorn.

“Now that’s much better, darling,” Rarity said, coming to stand beside me.

I didn’t know how to answer at first. It wasn’t a priority, it didn’t bring me any closer to finding Amelia, and the very last thing I wanted to be right then was a unicorn. Still, it’s the little things in life that help you cope, rather like a hospital patient getting her first real shower and brush for days.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling.

“Anytime.”

Twilight rose to her hooves. “Well, I took the liberty of searching while you two were busy, but didn’t find it. Rarity, did Sweetie Belle leave a book here, by any chance?”

“Sweetie?” Rarity lifted her ears, turning to Twilight. “Goodness, no—she barely had presence of mind to say goodbye before leaving for her little camping trip, though she did borrow needle and thread.” She gestured vaguely into the distance. “Have you tried her room at our parents’ house? I’d imagine she left it with her school books, if anything.”

“No,” Twilight grumbled, “but it’s getting late. I’ll ask tomorrow.”

“Indeed. Speaking of, have you considered updating your winter wardrobe? You could always—” Rarity made a disgusted face “—delve into last year’s line, if you were utterly devoid of passion and sense.”

“Your last year’s winter line was great, Rarity!” Twilight protested.

Rarity turned her nose up. “Past, dear, is prologue at best.” She glanced to me thoughtfully. “Actually, have you any warm clothes? As Twilight so callously pointed out, Winterfall is nearly upon us.”

“We brought some things, but I certainly hope I’m not here long enough for the snow to fall,” I muttered. “No offense, but I’m in something of a rush.”

Rarity frowned. “This all does sound rather dreadful.” She glanced to Twilight. “Is it anything we can help with?”

“I’m trying my best already. I don’t know if Daphne wants me spreading it around...”

“My baby sister was kidnapped,” I said shortly. “I’m trying to find her.”

Rarity gasped, her eyes widening. “My stars! And here I am, wasting your time.” She shot a withering look at Twilight. “You let me make a fool of myself, an absolute fool! Shame on you, Twilight.”

Twilight blinked. “What, me?”

“If it were my sister lost and frightened and alone out there, I would be mad with grief,” she told me. “Would that I had something, anything to give you to help—if there is anything at all I can do…”

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “I wish I had as many close friends I could rely on as you guys.”

Twilight stepped forward, beaming. “I don’t know about that. There’s Marcus, Naomi, Lyra, Leit Motif, Hector… and, even if you don’t exactly consider me a friend, I’ll do what I can.”

I coughed past a lump in my throat, blushing.

“I wish you all the luck, dears.” Rarity shivered. “For some reason, I can’t help but think that Sweetie Belle is in danger now. Just nerves, I suspect.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. The girls never get into that much trouble,” Twilight said. At Rarity’s disbelieving look, she scuffed a hoof and amended, “Well, nothing very serious. Except that one time they were nearly turned to stone by a cockatrice. Or foalnapped by Queen Chrysalis. Or—” Rarity's gaze intensified “—Right, heading home now.”

“Do.”

Taking our leave, we strode across the lamp-lit streets back towards Twilight’s library. With the sun finally set, familiar stars twinkled down at us from the firmament. I frowned, slowing as we crossed the field near the library. We’d never had a clear view of the horizon for most of the journey, and, in defiance of all astronomical logic, the half moon had risen opposite the sun.

“Uh, Twilight?” I asked. “Am I going crazy?”

“Not as far as I can tell without some form of empirical psychological exam. Why?” She glanced in the same direction I was, but seemed to notice nothing strange.

“The moon is opposite the sun, but it’s only a half moon.”

Twilight tilted her head, quirking an ear at me. “Yes. It is.”

“Isn’t that a little unusual?

“No, not particularly. Why?”

That took me aback. I chewed my lip as I regarded the offending moon. “If the moon is opposite the sun, it should be fully illuminated—or eclipsed, if it falls directly within Earth’s shadow.”

“Illuminated by what?”

“The sun, of course,” I pointed a hoof at the moon. “But… look! Only half the sun’s light is reaching it!”

Twilight laughed. “I’m not sure Luna would appreciate that implication. What makes you think the moon needs to reflect the sun’s light? It’s perfectly luminous on its own.”

I gaped at her.

She turned and strode towards the waiting library. “Well, we’re almost home. You’ll probably want some dinner and rest—or maybe just rest. You must have stuffed yourself on that pizza earlier.”

Shaking my head, I followed after her, muttering, “It’s a madhouse, I tell you. A madhouse.”

“Huh. Must be later than I thought,” she said as we approached. “The lights are out.” We looked up at the darkened windows for a moment before she put a hoof to the door and pushed it open. Our hoofsteps echoed hollowly on the wooden floor.

“I see Spike didn’t bother to clean up,” Twilight hissed sardonically, taking in the books stacked in great piles all across the floor, leaving the shelves nearly bare. “It’s going to take all week to—”

Surprise!

Leaping from the concealment of the book stacks came dozens of nightmarish figures just as the lights were turned on, blinding the two of us. A pink dragon loomed through the spots in my eyes. “Happy early Nightmare Nigh—eee!

The heat building behind my horn finally pushed itself out in a shower of incandescent green sparks, lighting fires wherever they went. A crushing weight descended on me as all of my energy sapped at once, and darkness rolled in.

* * *

Six colored lights circled me; purple, red, blue, pink, orange, and violet. Round and round they went, their light growing brighter, filling my vision.

“...is she…”

The lights danced around the bowl of a wooden cup. They threaded a ring of silver and brass.

“...just exhausted… magic took a lot out of her…”

The lights gleamed off a wooden staff and an iron sword, wending between them.

The hazy, dreamlike images slowly faded. The voices became clearer. “Hey, I think she’s coming around,” Lyra’s voice filtered in.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I’ve never scared anypony so badly she lit me on fire before!” a familiar mare’s voice—Pinkie Pie?—said.

“You and half the library,” Lyra said dryly. “Good thing I was here to put it out!” she added, brightly.

“Oh, shush. You barely did anything,” Leit Motif growled. “You protected, at most, one stack of books.”

“They were way important books.”

I groaned and craned my eyes open, only to find Naomi and a half dozen mares crowded around me. Patch poked my side thoughtfully. “Yup, no serious injuries. I didn’t earn that first aid badge for nothing, see?”

“You’re a real physician, kid,” Marcus said from a seat a little further away. “Come on, ladies, give her some air at least.”

“I’m okay,” I grunted. Pulling myself back up was far harder than it should have been. It was as if someone had gone and sucked out all of my blood sugar and a good portion of my blood with it. Spots swarmed in my vision like black-winged flies.

Leit Motif helped me to stand, practically dancing on her hooves. “I can’t believe it, your first magic! It was almost exactly like a baby foal’s discharges, too.” This was probably about as excited as I’d ever seen her. Even her normally morose eyes were bright with interest.

Marcus groaned. “Oh, great, so she’s like a toddler with superpowers. None of us are safe.”

“Bite me, Marc,” I said, not feeling up to witty repartee.

“Is she really going to be okay?” Naomi asked as she laid a hand against my forehead. “She feels warm.” Pinkie Pie bounced nervously beside her, giving me enormous puppy dog eyes.

Twilight waved a hoof. “It’s all right. Actually, this may be the trigger event she needs to start controlling it. Besides, it’s expert advice she needs, and we have two—”

“Three,” Lyra interrupted.

“—three very experienced unicorns to call upon.” She glanced around. “Though you two really ought to get home soon.”

“I’m staying wherever Daphne is,” Leit Motif said firmly.

“I, uh… well, my roommate is probably wondering if I’m still alive,” Lyra admitted. “Besides, I think this place is going to be pretty crowded, what with a baby dragon, three mares and two weird rabbit-monkeys.” Her eyes tracked to the window, looking out towards where Hector had been parked. “Though, it does have its appeal…”

“Out,” Twilight said. As an afterthought, she levitated Patch and plopped her onto Lyra’s back. “And take this with you on your way out.”

Patch pouted. “Aww. Can I come see you tomorrow, Miss Ogre?”

Naomi beamed. “Of course you can, dear, if your mother doesn’t object. And if you aren’t missing school.”

Leit Motif snorted. “She will be.”

“I’ll come after! Bye!” Patch waved her hoof as Lyra started towards the door.

“See you lot tomorrow,” Lyra called.

Pinkie Pie wriggled up into my view, a singed hair dangling into her face. “I’m really, super sorry. I wanted to throw you an awesome Nightmare Night party like you wanted, but then you were all ‘eek!’ and ‘whoosh! fire everywhere!’ and it was still kinda amazing, but the kind of amazing that Fire Marshall chews you out for, not the amazing party I wanted to give you.”

I waved her down groggily. “It’s okay. Thank you, really. I, uhm… I’m really sorry for setting your library on fire, Twilight. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Don’t worry, there was no serious damage done. We got on it pretty much instantly,” Twilight reassured. “Pinkie, why don’t you come on by later? We can welcome Daphne with less pyrotechnics.”

“Oh.” Pinkie Pie’s enthusiasm deflated. “I guess that firework display will have to go, then.”

Twilight grimaced. “Yes. A shame.”

“Do you really think I can learn magic?” I asked Leit Motif and Twilight as the room cleared.

At a guess, it seemed to be another part of the library, with a balcony on one side and an alcove above, where another bed sat beside a large window. A very fine brass telescope sat outside, pointed towards the night sky. It was a little strange, looking out a window at a town and only seeing the faintest amount of light—it was like camping far away from civilization, where the stars came out to play in great droves.

“I know you can,” Leit gushed. “You’re a bright girl, Daphne, and as far as I’m concerned, you worked magic every day when we were foals.” She seemed to think better of all that as she blushed and turned away from me and the others. Marcus gave her a curious look, but said nothing.

Twilight was a bit more skeptical. “Well, it takes years of practice to understand the theory behind most spellcasting, and most unicorns start learning as foals or yearlings. I suppose it might be like an adult practicing any new skill—you’ll pick up what you’re good at learning and need a bit more effort with the rest.” She trotted over to one of the library shelves, perusing books there. “Still, I see no reason why you can’t get started. At the least, it’ll help you regulate the outbursts and give you something to do.”

“I’ll help,” Leit said, practically leaping in front of my answer. “I’m very good at the drills. My mother put me through them every day after school.”

Twilight came back, a book floating next to her. She blinked at Leit Motif. “Which drills? Not the Clockwork Tower.”

“Well, yes.” Leit Motif nodded. “They are the most rigorous.”

Twilight deposited the book on the bed next to us, suppressing a shiver. “Sure, if you like torture. I did those in Magic Kindergarten. Honestly, I learned better with this—” she pointed at the volume “—than anything they taught me there.”

I had a look. Sounding out the title revealed that it was “The Young Unicorn’s Guide to Invocation.”

Leit Motif rubbed her chin. “My mother always said that was going soft.”

“Not everypony learns information by repeatedly slamming it into their skull,” Twilight said acerbically, and then lowered her ears and lifted her hoof. “Oh. I’m sorry, that was seriously insensitive of me.”

“Forget it,” Leit snapped. She rapped her hoof on the floor in a staccato pattern. She didn’t even seem to notice that she was doing it, but the others in the room did. Marcus looked up from where he was peeking at a picture book, and Naomi glanced over. Twilight frowned.

“Look, I’m just saying that it was a little harsh of her to—”

I said, forget it!” Leit shouted. Her eyes smoldered as she glared at Twilight. The room went completely silent.

Far from being intimidated, Twilight simply shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry, Leit.”

Deprived of a good target for her frustrations, Leit glared around the room for a moment before snorting angrily and trotting downstairs. Immediately, I started after her, but Twilight barred my way with a hoof and shook her head.

“Give her a minute,” she said quietly. “Also, you should take it easy, yourself. You don’t want to get dizzy and fall down the stairs.”

“Fair enough,” I murmured, glancing towards the stairwell sunk into the tree trunk. “Twilight… what happened to Leit Motif after we met?”

“I don’t really know. I grew up in Canterlot,” Twilight said, shaking her head, “and I probably wouldn’t have known her anyway. I was, uh, a little focused on study myself. From what I remember of her in school, she was very intense. I mean, I know I had my nose stuck in a book, but I enjoyed it. With her, it always seemed like she was… beating herself up.”

Marcus paused in his leafing again, frowning up at us. “You sure she’s going to be all right?”

“Oh, like you care,” I muttered, but without force. He let it slide without comment.

“I’ve only met her a few times in Ponyville, and she’s always been a little… hard to approach,” Twilight said. “She’ll be fine. More importantly, she has a close friend here.” She gave me a considering look and a slight smile. “I don’t think I’d be all that different from her if it weren’t for my own friends.”

I laid my head down on the pillow. “Mmph.” I was so articulate. The bed was so soft and my body so heavy that I sank at once. Despite all of my best efforts to stay awake, sleep swallowed me whole.

* * *

Under better circumstances, spending a day in Ponyville may have been one of the best things that could have ever happened to me. A whole town full of warm, friendly people, few of whom had any idea that I was different from they were. Indeed, the unicorn thing might have been fascinating to experience without all of the attendant pressures. I could spend my time reconnecting with Leit Motif and immersing myself into a different world, like some sort of strange cultural exchange program.

Like so much of growing up, though, reality took beautiful things and smashed them into powder. The Everfree Forest loomed in the distance as I sat upon Twilight’s balcony. In my mind spun images of my parents’ house, the joy ripped from their lives as they tried to deal with the fact that their daughters were missing for days on end. Naomi’s mother and father wouldn’t be in a much better state. Marcus might well be a wanted criminal by now, and even I didn’t want to see him get blamed for the disappearance and probable deaths of three girls.

In retrospect, we really hadn’t thought this all through when we first set out on our journey.

But all the while, Amelia languished in whatever dank, stinking prison her captors had set her in. I could see her then, sniffling in the dark, rats nibbling at the edges of her clothes, as cruel-eyed creatures plotted and laughed.

Of course, to say my attitude was not universal would have been a terrific understatement.

“Daphne,” Naomi called. I didn’t turn. A hand touched my back as she kneeled beside me, the morning breeze catching her hair and billowing it out like a banner. “Aren’t you coming down to eat?”

“I don’t feel like it.”

“Leit and the others are getting worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” I shook my back to remove her hand. “You probably want to spend the day around Ponyville, anyway. Don’t let me stop you.”

“I do, and you won’t,” Naomi said, brushing her hair back from her face. “Moping won’t fix things, though. It won’t get Amelia back, nor will it make things better for any of us.”

That could have been met with a snappish response or something equally childish. Instead, I simply sighed. “Yeah. I know. It’s just that… you know, this is the first time in our trip I haven’t had a real goal, something to keep me moving forward. I feel stuck in the mud.”

“Well, if you don’t mind me contradicting your obvious logical flaws, you do have a few things you can do,” Naomi pointed out. “There’s figuring out how to get back to normal, for one. If you can’t do that, there’s a book of magic waiting for you and three unicorns downstairs willing to give you pointers.”

“Meh.”

“Don’t you ‘meh’ me.” She swatted my rear with a sharp slap and I jumped with a squeak.

“Hey!” I glared at her, rubbing my behind. “That’s sensitive!”

Naomi grinned. “You’re sensitive, all right. Come on. Don’t tell me you want to miss watching Marcus complain at how disgustingly wholesome everything is.”

I tilted my head. “Well. Okay. I will join you in the name of watching Marc suffer.”

“Great!”

Together, the two of us made our way into Twilight’s kitchen to find it grossly over-crowded. Besides myself, Marcus, Naomi, and Leit Motif, Lyra and Applejack had joined Twilight Sparkle and Spike at the dining table. The little dragon wandered around on top of the table, passing out biscuits and placing a giant pitcher of apple juice in the center.

Leit Motif, returning from the washroom, looked at where I sat with Naomi and wormed in between me and Lyra on my other side. If I hadn’t of known better, I might have thought she was jealous of Naomi’s closeness to my side from the way she shot a frustrated look at the redheaded girl.

“So what’s on the agenda today for everypony?” Twilight asked as she levitated the pitcher over to pour herself a glass.

“Not everypony keeps an itemized schedule of events, Twi,” Applejack muttered, chopping apple chunks into her oatmeal.

Naomi crossed her legs under the table. “Pinkie Pie promised to take me out to meet some of the locals.” The rising color in her face said louder than words that she was working herself up again—poor Ponyville. It would probably never recover from the rampage of the Red Ogress.

I gazed down at my oatmeal starkly. Another reason I had been reluctant to come down was the humiliation of having to try eating again in front of other ponies. I’d already been subjected to that torture plenty.

Leit Motif tugged at my elbow. “It’s all right, Daphne. You’ve done it before.”

The shiny spoon stared back at me with my own upside down face.

“What about you, Marcus?” Lyra asked, pouring dark chocolate chips and grated cheese into hers.

He eyed her bowl disgustedly for a moment. “Hell if I know.”

“Oh, please. You’re not just going to sit around in a library staring at the books and playing with your toes all day, are you? You and your icky rabbit feet.”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “Have you even seen a rabbit’s feet? It’s not even close.”

“I dunno; it’s long, hairy, and ends in gross toes.” Lyra pointed her golden-magic-wrapped spoon at him. “Ergo, gross rabbit feet.”

He looked around at the others. “Can I strangle her?”

Leit Motif snorted. “Be my guest. Give us some peace for a while, anyway.” She turned towards me. “Really, give it a try. Just… try not to think about it too much?”

“What am I supposed to think about?” I muttered.

She shook her head. “I think you’ve been overthinking the whole process. I mean, I don’t really think about grabbing things, I just do it. There’s no process.”

“Okay.” I bit my lip and lowered my hoof towards the spoon.

Everyone’s eyes fixed on me. My hoof shook.

Leit glowered at each and every breakfast guest until they turned away and studiously ignored me. Even so, I could feel their attention on me as I put my hoof against the spoon.

“Just push it all away,” she whispered. “Like we’re back on the river together, just you and me.”

Drawing a shuddering breath, I laboriously constructed an image in my mind, one element at a time. The walls of the room fell away, and then the people in it. The floor vanished, to be replaced by clear waves. Above, a tropical sky stared down at Leit and I as we sat together on a table-turned-raft. With one final thought, the sounds were pushed away, to be replaced by sea air. All this I whispered to Leit Motif, and she closed her eyes, nodding along.

Now it was just us, the spoon, and the oatmeal, drifting alone together.

The tension, flowing out with each exhalation, faded in stages with my breath. Gently, I touched the bottom of my hoof to the handle, and lifted.

The spoon remained stubbornly on the table.

I growled, but Leit’s hoof stilled me before I could slam the table. Taking a deep breath, I tried again, focusing on the rumbling in my stomach instead of the spoon. A strange tugging sensation met me, and, as easily as ever, the spoon rose.

Stomping hooves and Naomi’s clapping hands met me as the table applauded. Naturally, I dropped the spoon at once.

Lyra grinned. “Aww. And you were so close.”

I rolled my eyes, placing my hoof on the spoon’s handle again. Thinking back, I retrieved the sensation of picking it up and replicated it on the spot. Then, just for show, I twirled the spoon around and tossed it into the air to catch with my left.

Spike grumbled as he stalked the tabletop. “If you keep showing off and make a mess, you’re cleaning it up.”

Leit Motif gave me a quick hug. “I knew you could do it.”

“Got it,” I said. My face was split in one of its first true grins in a long time. I hoofed the cheese from Lyra and poured it into my bowl, swirling it around until it created a delicious, savory dish.

“Fine,” Marcus told Lyra. “If it gets me away from these saps, I’ll go chill somewhere else in town. What’s there to do around here, anyway?”

Lyra waved her hooves. “Oh, tons of stuff.”

“Can always watch the Runnin’ of the Leaves,” Applejack said. “Now that harvest is done, we need to get those darned things on the ground.”

“Is it that time already?” Leit Motif frowned. “I guess Nightmare Night and Winterfall are right around the corner.”

Twilight pointed her spoon at Leit. “You know, I was telling Rarity the exact same thing.

Lyra pointed at me. “Hey, I know! You two should go run it together!”

“Uh.” I flicked my ear. “What’s the Running of the Leaves?”

Leit’s explaination was rather matter-of-fact. “It’s an annual event where ponies run through the nearby woods and help the leaves fall so they can fertilize the earth for the next planting,” She scowled. “Though, there’s been a lot of silliness about races and other commercial nonsense in recent years.”

“What?” Lyra protested. “I like that stuff. Besides, it’s fun.”

Leit Motif narrowed her eyes at Lyra. “It dilutes the meaning of an important tradition.”

“Tradition whatever. You two should totally run it.”

Leit turned her head up. “Out of the question.”

“You won’t turn to ash from prolonged exposure to the sun, Leit,” Lyra said, prodding her side.

Waving her hoof away, Leit grumbled. “I don’t like running all that much.”

“Actually, I’m kind of intrigued,” I said, looking up from stuffing my face. “I’m stuck here anyway, and it sounds like something nice we could do together.”

That took the wind right out of Leit’s sails. She sighed and acquiesced with a nod. Lyra grinned triumphantly.

“Well,” Leit muttered, “all right. We should get going, then, so we can meet the start line.”

“I’ll join you,” Applejack said. “I’m gonna be stir-crazy during the winter, anyhow.”

After finishing off breakfast, the three of us waved our goodbyes. We left the library and trotted out under the autumn sun, letting our legs carry us towards the woods north of town. I was quite pleased to see that we weren’t going to be running anywhere near the Everfree Forest—apparently, they excluded the Everfree entirely in this process. Leit Motif’s mood rebounded, and we chatted in low tones. She pointed out landmarks and named ponies around town as we went, and I squinted towards the distant castle of Canterlot and smiled. It really did feel like a magical land, if a subdued one.

I turned my head to Leit Motif, who had gone silent. “What’s up?”

“Oh… nothing,” she murmured, turning her gaze away. “Just wondering what it’ll be like when this is all over. You’ll have to go take your sister home, after all.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “That doesn’t really mean we’ll be apart, though, will it? You can certainly come back with me, and I know how to find this place now. You can even show me your secret route so I don’t get lost like a twit again.”

Leit lowered her gaze even further, a blush darkening her cheeks to purple. “I’d like that.”

“Great.” I grinned and bumped against her side. “Race you to the starting line!” I took off at a full gallop, all four legs stretching and flying.

“Hey!” Leit gasped. She took off after me, and the wind caught our manes and tails, streaming them behind us. The earth vanished under our feet, and I laughed.

* * *

“You can stop giggling anytime, now,” I muttered. My eyes remained firmly affixed on the toy gears I was levitating in front of me. The tremulous green aura wrapped around them greatly resembled Leit Motif’s in hue. Another droplet of water fell past my vision to stain the grass below us.

Leit covered her mouth. “No, no. I think I shall continue giggling.”

“I can’t believe you two didn’t even place,” Lyra said from the park bench where she played a golden lyre that matched her cutie mark. “Tighten up a little there, Daphne.”

The wooden gears flew closer together, but their teeth slipped.

“It was muddy,” I growled. “I fell. None of you would be laughing if I’d hit my head on a river rock or something.”

“You didn’t, though,” Marcus pointed out as he lay back on the grass, watching the pegasi above. “So we are.”

A curly-maned earth pony sitting next to Lyra giggled. She’d followed us back from the race after Leit introduced her as Lyra’s roommate. “Wasn’t that pegasus who pulled you out cute, though? You should count yourself lucky. I need to fall into rivers more often if it gets that sort of treatment.”

Thunderlane.” I grated my teeth. “I remember him from yesterday. What was he doing watching anyway?”

The damnable gears slipped the other way, and I tried to clear the frustration from my mind. A gust of wind chilled my wet coat, stealing that possibility away.

“Gently, Daphne,” Leit cautioned. “Telekinesis can be finicky.”

I tossed my mane, sending droplets over Marcus. “I should be able to visualize this.” My concentration settled on the gears, and I pictured them merrily turning, but the reality kept diverging in subtle ways until the whole thing fell apart.

“It’s not really that simple. You have to feel it and keep it in mind, yes, but there’s a lot of variables you need to account for.” Leit’s horn lit up and tiny gears poured out of the toybox, arranging themselves into an intricate, virtual clocktower, complete with a face. Each gear aligned itself precisely, then began to turn.

Lyra shuddered and glanced away.

“Is it really that hard?” Lyra’s roommate asked, frowning. “Admittedly, it looks pretty complex.”

“It’s vile, Bon Bon. Look, even the unicorns just glancing this way are wincing.” Lyra strummed her hoof, plucking strings to make a jaunty counterpoint like the ringing of a bell. Her magic kept the harp levitated and simultaneously altered the tension in the strings, making for some deliciously complicated melodies.

“It guarantees quick learning of the basics,” Leit grated.

“Maybe for eggheads like you and Twilight. Even she agreed it was a little excessive.”

I shook my head. “I don’t exactly have a lot of practice time available to me. I’m surprised I managed to pick this up as fast as I did, honestly.”

“Once you get the strength, it’s really easy to push things around or apply energy here and there,” Lyra said. “Heck, what I’m doing with my lyre here is really just a sophisticated application of the same idea.” The strings thrummed as she added a second thread to her melody, as if two ponies were playing the instrument instead of just one, the second thread ringing out mocking minor keys. “It’s spell work that gets really counterintuitive.”

Leit shifted, putting the gears back into the toybox. “Well, I—”

“I’m sure your argument is fascinating,” Marcus interrupted, “but it’s not really helping Daphne concentrate on her work.”

The comment earned him a glare from Leit Motif, but I found myself smiling gratefully in spite of myself. I hadn’t wanted to say anything to offend my teachers, but they did tend to ramble on.

“What’s Naomi up to, anyway?” he asked. “I haven’t seen her in a few hours, so I’m afraid she’s erected some sort of dungeon.”

Lyra shrugged. “Out with Pinkie Pie somewhere. I think she said she ‘wanted to meet everypony in Ponyville’ and then kind of giggled madly for a while.”

Marcus sat up, rubbing his face. “She’s going to be revolting for days. No, years.

Elsewhere in the park, ponies went alone or gathered in little groups, walking about their business or simply enjoying a lunch under the shade. Most of the leaves had gone—and let me say, they can really denude a forest when they want to—but the conifers still offered good cover.

“So how’s Ponyville treating you, Marcus?” Bon Bon asked.

“I’m surrounded by pretty ponies, and it’s driving me crazy.” He cocked his head. “Though that kung fu dojo was kind of cool. What are the odds you’d have one of those?”

“I dunno, how can you possibly do kung fu with arms?” Lyra said as she shook her head disdainfully.

He watched a line of young mares, chattering amongst themselves, step out of a nearby spa. “I don’t know, this whole thing is just eerie. I mean, no offense, but I’m having trouble seeing how all of this developed so cleanly together. Our worlds are different, sure, but where are all these similarities coming from?” He frowned at the group, then glanced down at me. He glanced at Lyra, Leit Motif, and Bon Bon, then back at the mares. “I mean, you think about it. I know what Daphne looks like. It’s not hard to imagine the rest of you… as…”

Quite suddenly, his face turned bright red and he tensed.

“What?” I asked, finally managing to slip a gear into another and turn it against its partner. So far, two was my maximum, but it still felt nice.

“N-nothing.” He rose to his feet quickly. “Just need some bleach.”

Leit Motif frowned, glancing up at him. “Is something wrong? I have some bleach at my place. It’s not far.”

“Not… literally! I mean… I… well…” He stared at Leit Motif for a while, and then took off at a run.

“The heck was all that about?” Leit Motif muttered. She checked her mane, sniffing it.

“Hey guys!” Naomi called, walking over. Patch had found her way back into Naomi’s arms, and a gaggle of foals fresh out of school trailed in her wake—which, I’m sure, had nothing at all to do with the enormous bag of candy at her side. “Do you have any idea why Marcus ran by muttering, ‘No clothes’?”

The gears fell as I collapsed into laughter. My magic sputtered out.

“What’s so funny?” Lyra asked, tilting her ears forward. “Am I missing something hilarious?”

“Oh, nothing.” I giggled, wiping my eyes. “Marcus just realized he had a template for converting young mares into young human women, and all of you wander around without any clothes on.”

“Well.” Lyra chewed that over. “Yes. And…?”

“Nothing, nothing. His imagination is going to be his own worst enemy from now on, though!” I sniggered, watching his progress. “Oh, this place is wonderful.”

Naomi sighed contentedly and scratched Patch’s belly. “I know.”

* * *

Reading by the light of your own horn has a certain satisfaction to it. As a little girl, I had enjoyed reading in the dark with a flashlight or other contrivance, and the fact that the light now came from me lent it a personal air I definitely appreciated. My horn had, over the course of the day, transformed from a source of irritation into an object of fascination. It was a shame I would probably never be able to cast spells with it—not without months of study, anyway—but the basic tasks of light and telekinesis were at least within my grasp. I still used my hoof to turn the page, not daring my awkward, untested strength on one of Twilight’s books.

Soft hoofsteps approached, and Leit Motif wormed up on the other side of Twilight’s guest bed. Twilight had apologized for only having the one, but had none-too-subtly suggested that if Rarity and Applejack had been able to stand sharing it, Leit Motif and I should be just fine while she was staying with me. I turned to greet her and giggled as my light fell over her. “Really? Jammies?”

Leit blushed and squirmed in her thick flannel pajamas. “What? I don’t like being cold when I get up in the night.”

“Really? I’d think having a coat would solve those problems.” I covered my mouth to hide a grin. “You’d just better not let Naomi see you wearing that.”

She shuddered. “Your friend scares me sometimes.” Her eyes slid towards me as she fluffed the pillow. “She and Marcus bother me, a little.”

“I wouldn’t have made it here if not for them. Not intact, anyway.” I closed the book and—exercising extreme care—levitated it to the floor beside the bed. Then I turned over to sit up next to her. Thanks to figuring out the whole “grabby hooves” thing earlier, my feet weren’t caked in rubbish, and so I didn’t leave a mess. The sick thing about it was that it didn’t even really take conscious thought. “This is just like old times, isn’t it? You and me, sharing the same tent—bed, whatever.”

“I remember you used to brush out my mane and tail before we went to bed,” Leit said quietly. “I liked that. And the stories you used to tell.”

I glanced up at the alcove where Twilight would be going to bed once she retired. Smiling, I took the cover and pulled it over the two of us.

“Ar-aren’t we a little old for this?” Leit Motif asked, her own horn lighting up. The shades of our magic mingled indistinguishably, two green beacons of identical color and intensity.

“Who’s here to judge us? Your folks aren’t here.”

“B-but…” She kneaded the mattress with her hooves for a moment before nodding her head. “All… all right.”

“Now… hmm… what story can I tell…” I let my mind drift for a bit. “Ah! I know.”

We passed the night like that, me spinning tales from pure imagination while Leit listened, enraptured. Eventually, yawning too much to concentrate, we slid back under the blankets. For the first time in weeks, I slept in peace.

* * * * * * *

Author's Note:

Were it not for the fact that I have a plot to get to, I could write a dozen chapters of Daphne and her friends hanging around in Ponyville. Sadly, both for her and for me, the story demands I move on.

Stay tuned next time for a journey to a new city, where Leit Motif hunts down their best lead!

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